#Dainty Gold Filled Chain

[kitashousewife]

something small

an: this idea randomly popped in my head earlier when i was coming home from the gym so enjoy lol

pairings: timeskip!sakusa x fem!reader

warnings: little teeny bit of anxiety from sakusa, fluff, pet names (pretty girl), lowercase intentional

-

sakusa thinks this is stupid.

the entire drive home, he has been second-guessing his purchase. not because of the price, but because he feels almost childish.

would she even want something like this?

he sighs as he turns onto your street.

all this fuss over a stupid high school memory.

during his third year, sakusa had a math class that was rather boring. the lack of friends and seemingly easy material left him with a lot of opportunities to get distracted.

one day, one of of the girls in his class came skipping in, taking the seat with her friends. shortly after, the group of girls began to squeal. he rolled his eyes, huffing in annoyance at their antics. but, curiosity got the best of him. when he looked over, he realized what the girls were fussing over.

one of them was wearing a necklace, which must have been new. the necklace was plain, but when he looked closer, he noticed that there was a small letter dangling from the chain. the necklace was a gift from her significant other, and everyone was excited about it.

for some reason, that memory stuck with him after all these years. which is the reason he is walking up to the door of your apartment with a velvet box in his hand.

he didn't even mean to get the necklace. he was just browsing, looking for a birthday gift for his sister, when the sparkling of diamonds and polished metal caught his eye. a small jewelry store, filled with precious materials and large price tags was not where sakusa thought he would end up, but after spotting the necklace in the display case, he couldn't stop himself.

the shop owner was extremely patient as he waited for sakusa to debate between gold and silver for the chain and the charm, finally deciding on gold after a good 10 minutes. that wait was nothing, compared to the debate in his mind over if he should get an s charm or a k charm.

while he liked the look of the s charm, he couldn't stop his heart from racing at the intimacy of you wearing a necklace with his first initial on it. while the thought made him a bit nervous, wondering if he was being too forward, he decided on the dainty, simple letter k to go on the gold chain.

sakusa thinks he will save a gift involving his last name, for when he is ready to share it with you.

knocking on the door of your apartment, he holds the small box in his left hand, fingers almost turning white from the grip he has on it.

"hi omi," you smile, welcoming him inside after a few short seconds. toeing off his shoes, sakusa follows you into the kitchen. he can't help the nerves that wash over him as he watches you, dancing around the island as you fix him a cup of tea.

is she too old for something like this?

"how was your day? did you find anything for your sister?" you ask, placing the drink in front of your very anxious looking boyfriend.

he nods, wrapping his fingers around the mug. "yeah, pretty quickly actually, which i'm happy about."

you laugh, and he gives you a small smile. "i know how much you hate shopping."

humming, he walks over to your spot next to the kitchen sink, wrapping his arms around you from behind. kissing the top of your head, he tries to calm himself down a little bit.

"do you like necklaces?" sakusa is glad you can't see his face right now after that stupid line.

you turn to face him, sensing the nerves in his tone. motioning him to follow you towards the living room, you nod. "yes, why do you ask?"

he stops walking and digs around in his pocket, fishing out a small blue box. examining it in his hand for a few seconds, he lets out a sigh and looks at you.

"back in high school, there was a girl who got something like this from her-" he shakes his head and starts over. "i saw a jewelry store today, and this made me think of you," he mumbles, opening the small box to reveal the daintiest, prettiest necklace you've ever seen. a thin, gold chain, and hanging from it is a shiny, curved letter k.

you gasp and look up into his eyes. the worry leaves them when he realizes how happy you are, how excited you look at what he got you. he carefully takes it out of the box, and undoes the clasp.

"turn around, then i can put it on you."

you turn around, and he steps behind you. his hands come around the side of your head, the metal glimmering in the dim light of the room. your heart thuds as you feel the letter sitting flush against your skin, right above your heart.

"it's beautiful, kiyoomi. i really love this," you spin around to face him, beaming from ear to ear. sakusa looks down at the necklace, and he is positive that you were made to wear it.

"it's so pretty," you mumble, looking at yourself in the reflection of your window. moving slightly to watch it glint in the glass.

"then it's perfect for you," he says, coming to stand right behind you once more. "pretty necklace for a pretty girl."

he kisses your cheek, then turns your chin to place a soft kiss on your lips. his heart swells in his chest and fills with pride as he stares at the necklace, his initial on his girl.

maybe next time he goes into the city, he will check out that same store again.

and maybe, he will look at the rings instead.

#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa #haikyuu x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa x reader fluff #sakusa x reader imagine #sakusa x you #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff

[toodivineforhumanmind]

June, 1987

June gloom. That's the term Chrissy's college friends had used to describe the odd, suffocating fog that had seemingly taken over the entire coast in California, looming over the promise of the summer in Los Angeles.

It was a strange sight, the wall of fog like a physical being in the horizon; suffocating her, pulling her in. Sometimes it felt the same that it had felt back home in Hawkins. Suffocating, alienating. And the fog never failed to invite back the nightmares that haunted her. Of her mother, of Hawkins, of red, vengeful skies filled with creatures her father would've called "demon-like". 

Chrissy had left Hawkins for good in June of 1986 - she had often dreamed of getting away from her mother and the crushing weight of what could be considered the "high society" of Hawkins. In other words, an endless parade of church potlucks, charity auctions and dinners at their local country club. A painfully artificial smile plastered on Chrissy's glossed lips, her mother's reproachful voice in her ear if she accidentally spilled something on her dress. Endless greetings and hands she shook time after time, the perfect daughter with the golden cross dangling between her collarbones.

California and the freedom of college had been a breath of fresh air after eighteen years of suffocation. Chrissy had felt free for the first time since she was a child, free of judgement, free of the red skies. And occasionally, she almost believed that she was free of the knowledge of what lied below their own dimension.

And then her mother died on June 9th 1987, and Chrissy jumped on the first plane that flew out of Los Angeles in the early hours of the morning.

That first night back in Hawkins Chrissy woke up screaming, flashes of red skies and golden crosses in her mind. Her clammy hands clawed at her bare throat, almost confused that her fingers weren't entangling with the dainty, gold chains of neither her cross necklace or the ´86´ necklace that Jason had once gifted her.

She had left both necklaces in the drawer of her desk in Hawkins when she had skipped town, eager to let go of the chains that still tethered her to her mother and the memory of Jason.

That June, Chrissy felt like she was watching herself from somewhere else, hovering over her own body. Making promises to her father, swearing she'd stay until the end of summer to take care of her brother and to help with the funeral, the documents, all the miserable shit that Chrissy's father was dreading to do alone.

And so she stayed. Even with the nightmares, she stayed. It was easy enough to forget, to force herself not to feel real. The numbness was her salvation the days she had to go through her mother's things, the scent of her perfume still clinging to the clothes making her gag. The numbness helped her during the funeral, her thumb drawing absent-minded trails on the back of her brother's palm as he clutched onto hers.

Nothing felt real, and Chrissy was so, very grateful for it.

Until the day a pair of all too familiar brown eyes met hers across the vegetable isle of the supermarket; that's all it took for Chrissy's facade to crumble, and she was no longer numb.

// follow this fic on ao3!

#idk??? hello help #lmk if you wanna read more ok #eddissy #eddsy #eddssy #hellcheer #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #stranger things #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #chreddie #also eddie now has short hair bc he works at the plant #i know its tragic #Spotify

[beautifuldisaster88]

Rafe, Reader, Kelce, Topper and Sarah sitting by the pool at Tannyhill and talking:

(Little context; Rafe and Reader are dating, and Reader literally has no filter. Topper and Sarah are dating. Poor Kelce is the 5th wheel, not that he means, especially since he tends to bring along whatever girl of the week he's fucking. This week he's flying solo though, just hanging with the crew.)

Nothing fancy, just a short little blurb.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You're all relaxing by the pool, laughing, joking, bullshitting, drinking, smoking the blunts that you and Rafe had rolled earlier.

Rafe has his back against the pool chair, wearing nothing but swim trunks, as are Top and Kelce, you and Sarah wearing nothing but bikinis. He has your back pressed flush against his toned bare chest, arms possessively and protectively wrapped around your small waist.

Top and Sarah mirror you and Rafe, the couple in the same position in the chair opposite of you. Only Topper's arm is wrapped lazily around Sarah's exposed torso.

On the other side of you and Rafe is Kelce, leaned back against the pool chair, beer in one hand and blunt in the other. Not a single care in the world.

Somehow the conversation turned to talking about jewelry, not that you were paying attention much. Your doe eyes were glued on Rafe's right hand that rested on your lower stomach, prominent veins making you bite down on your bottom lip, thinking about all the hot, nasty, kinky and degrading things your boyfriend's hands have and will continue to do to you. The man was a skilled pro with those hands and long thick digits... You would know.

"Okay, okay. Serious question, man. This one is for the girls. What's your all time favorite piece of jewelry? The one piece that you daydream about? Be honest." Topper spoke up, the slight hint of slurring in his words from day drinking.

You already knew your answer, didn't have to think about it. Still, you looked at Sarah, urging her to answer first, to which she happily obliged with a smile.

"This necklace you got me, Top. There's a reason I never take it off. Not only am I absolutely in love with it, but it's a symbol of our relationship. It's one of my most prized possessions." Sarah beamed as she ran her fingers over the dainty gold chain and pendant that said 'Topper' in gold fancy cursive letters.

Rafe scoffed, rolling his eyes with a smirk. Of course that would be his sister's answer. So basic. He had a strong suspicion that he already knew what your answer was going to be. Surprise! Surprise! He was right.

All eyes were now on you, the other three kooks wondering what answer you'd come up with, each of them knowing that your responses were always interesting to say the least.

Without hesitation, you looked at them with a smug grin, grabbing your boyfriend's big hand and placing it around your throat, to which he immediately grinned. Even though your back was to Rafe, you know that he had a shit-eating smug grin on his perfectly sculpted face.

The other three just stared at you, blinking in confusion.

"Uh," Topper says your name. "The question wasn't if you liked to be choked or not... We already know you're into all that kinky shit. The question wa-"

He was cutoff by Rafe.

"She heard the question, asshole. My hand 'round her throat is her favorite piece of jewelry. No matter how many fucking necklaces I buy this little vixen right here, she insists that she prefers my fucking hand. Who am I to deprive Baby Girl of what she wants? This necklace also happens to be a symbol of mine and kitten's relationship."

You just giggle as he leans his head up, dipping it down to shower your neck with open mouth kisses, loving how you instantly react to him, tilting your head back to give him better access to your sun kissed skin. Normally you'd have a pervy comment to add, but you were content for the moment, pussy still filled to the brim with Rafe's cum from not that long ago.

"Is everything about sex with you two!?" Sarah asked disgusted, regrettably having to once again witness her brother practically make her best friend cum just from having his hand wrapped tightly around her neck and mouth attacking her neck, jawline, shoulders and collarbone.

"Yes!" Topper and Kelce answer in unison, knowing all too well that the two kooks clearly had a sex addiction... At least when it came to each other.

"Okay, okay. Favorite act-" Topper began, only to be cutoff by Sarah clasping her hand over his mouth.

"Do not finish that question, Topper. I don't need to hear my brother and best friend go into detail about their sex life."

Rafe chuckled at that, looking over at his sister with another shit-eating grin, hand still around your throat.

"Come on, sis. S'not like you haven't already heard it. I mean, shit, you've even walked in on us a few times, hasn't she, Baby Girl?"

You tilt her head back to look up at your boyfriend with doe eyes, the look in your eyes silently telling him that you desperately needed to be dicked down, even though he'd just fucked you right before Kelce and Topper showed up, making you cum four times.

"Anyway, kitten here looks sleepy and if she doesn't get her rest, she gets cranky. This was fun, or whatever, but I need to take her upstairs before she starts getting moody."

Effortlessly scooping you up in his arms, Rafe rose from the chair, carrying you towards the Cameron mansion as he whispered in your ear.

"Don' worry, kitten, daddy is about to fuck you stupid."

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx #short blurb #rafe x reader #the kooks #kook princess #kook king #daddy k!nk

[oftenwantedafton]

A New Afton - Stepfather Steve Raglan/William Afton x Stepdaughter Reader

Chapter 8

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - sexual content, daddy kink, praise kink, minor violence

Also available on AO3

taglist @yellowbunnydreams

It’s one of those rare rainy nights in Hurricane when the woman enters the bar.

Friday evening and not long after the 9-5 shift has concluded and the room is already filling.

This latest entry climbs up onto one of the barstools and orders. Slides back down to remove her jacket and place it on the stool. Wallet clutched in hand. Pencil skirt, blouse with one button undone. A small gold chain with a cross at her throat.

The man beside her had not meant to look more than once. But he does. He looks at her and as if sensing his eyes she regards him. A glass is set on a beverage napkin in front of her. She reaches for it. No ring on her finger, though that doesn’t mean anything nowadays. He figures she’s near his age, a little younger. Late twenties, early thirties at most. Takes a dainty sip of the clear mixed cocktail. Her nails are long, polished.

His own are ragged. Cuticles unkempt. Nail beds and fingers and creases of his palms forever stained from the machinery he works on. The animatronics have wreaked havoc on him in more ways than one. He has a ring on his finger. He has a wife and children. He shouldn’t be looking. But he does.

The chatter in the restaurant is white noise. He signals the bartender for another round for both of them. His own drink is amber. Whiskey. She murmurs a soft protest, then thanks him. The liquor runs smooth over his tongue. The ice cubes in her glass click together gently. He rests his arm on the counter. Hers settles near his. Almost making contact. Their eyes link. Another round. Another.

Any caution he might have considered is now drowned beneath the alcohol he’s imbibed. He doesn’t usually drink. And certainly not this quantity. He’s willing to bet the woman beside him doesn’t either. Her cheeks are flushed, pink and pretty. He likes how soft she looks. So different from the alloys and the circuits and the gears and the cables he surrounds himself with everyday.

He helps her put on her coat. Helps her remove it again in the back of his car. The rough engineer’s hands tear her nylons in their frenzy. He licks her mouth open. She lowers herself onto him. The windows fog. Little whimpers and sighs. His beard chafes the skin of her throat. She tightens around him and he spills into her.

They never exchange names or numbers. She straightens her clothing and walks away. He sits behind the wheel and listens to the rain.

***

The next morning the guilt is heavy. Regret. His daughter is missing and the knots twist in his stomach.

“I made a terrible mistake last night, Will,” he says to his business partner.

Afton looks different this morning. His eyes are fever bright. There is a flush to his usually pale skin. He looks exultant, as if he’s discovered something. He knows the look well. He’d seen in during their college years. In the years that have followed when they’d founded the business.

“It’s not your fault Charlie’s missing. I’m sure she’ll turn up. I’ll help look for her,” William says. There is something in his smile. Meant to be reassuring, but it does not quite meet his eyes.

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I mean, yes, I’m worried about her, but it’s not just that.”

“Judging from your scent I can see you spent some time at the local watering hole.” The pale eyed man folds his arms across his chest.

“There was a woman.”

“Ah.” Just that. William seems to understand immediately where this is heading.

“It just…happened.”

“Of course it did.” The seated man cannot tell if the other is mocking him or not. “Did you at least take precautions?”

“No. I mean, unless she’s on birth control. I don’t know.” He drags a hand through his hair. “You’re not…you’re not going to say anything to…”

“No. Your secret is safe with me, old friend.”

He sighs heavily. “We have to find Charlie. I hope she’s alright.”

“I’m sure she’s absolutely fine. Probably just hiding. We’ll find her tucked away cozy somewhere, I’m certain.” He smiles again. It is not warm and it does not reassure the other man. A hand reaches to squeeze his arm. There is something staining one of his fingers. Rust colored, except he doubts that that is what it is. It looks more like…

“Shall we start looking?”

Henry Emily swallows and nods, following William Afton out of the manager’s office.

***

You slump into the kitchen chair—the one you’d previously occupied, now that your mother has returned—and look across the table at your stepfather.

You see Steve lift and set his fork back down without utilizing the utensil. Your mother is talking about her trip. You inhale and the bearded man exhales.

“Is everything alright? You haven’t touched your food.”

“I’m not really hungry,” he says. His eyes have not left your face.

You dig your fork into the pile of fluffy scrambled eggs and take a bite. It is ash in your mouth. You struggle to chew and swallow past the lump in your throat. It takes every effort not to begin crying again.

Eventually you plead unfinished homework and retreat to your room. Your mother enters soon after, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You seem upset. Did something happen?”

“I’m fine. Just a little stressed with school.” You force a smile.

“That’s a pretty necklace. Who got you that?”

You’d forgotten you’re still wearing the heart your stepdad had gifted you. “Oh. I picked it out for myself.” You clutch the pendant, tracing the curves of its shape.

“Sweetheart, you know you can talk to me about anything. Is it a boy at school that’s bothering you?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend at school. Honestly, mom.” You slide the pendant back and forth on the chain.

She hesitates. “Was everything okay while I was gone? With Steve?”

“Yeah. He’s been great. You don’t need to worry, mom, honestly.”

“I’m going to get started on the housework. I’m around if you want to talk, okay?”

“Okay, mom.” Her lips brush your cheek and she combs through your hair before turning to leave.

The door closes softly behind her.

***

You’ve survived the day, mostly by hiding, emerging only for meals you barely consume.

Steve continues to stare. You stare back.

The yellow rabbit he’d won for you is tucked beneath your arm. The beautiful pink roses he’d gifted you are still hidden in your closet, along with the clothes you’d picked out together. Lingerie buried in your dresser drawers.

You hear the door creak open and don’t open your eyes. Your mother probably about to check on you a final time. You’re being too obvious with your sulking and your isolation. You don’t know how else you can behave given the circumstances.

The door closes again and you hear it lock. Your eyes snap open, suddenly alert. You recognize the sound of those weighted footsteps.

The comforter and top sheet are pulled off of you. Your heart is racing. The mattress creaks when he climbs over you.

“She’ll hear you,” you protest softly. One calloused hand drags against your hip.

“I don’t care,” he whispers harshly. His mouth is rough against yours. You whimper, lifting your hips to help him slide your panties off. He moans against your throat when your bodies are joined again. “I need you.” His voice is raw, the words tearing jaggedly from his throat. He fucks into you gently. Your knees squeeze his ribs and you roll your hips into him. Too loud, you think, the panting breaths and the squeaking bed. You can’t stop. You don’t want him to stop, either.

“Daddy.”

His breath huffs over your lips. “My daughter.” His tongue slides across yours.

“Feel so good inside me, Daddy.”

“Baby girl…” His hips work faster, his cock sawing in and out, coated in your slick, your body welcoming him deeper. He laces his fingers through yours and pushes your linked hands down into your pillow. His kisses are salted. Nervous perspiration, maybe. The heat of you together.

His breathing goes ragged, shuddering. Your mouth traps the sound of his ultimate pleasure as he spills into you.

“You’re mine,” he pants beside your ear. “I’m not letting you go.”

***

You hear your mother and stepfather arguing.

It wakes you up early the next morning. You’re supposed to be getting ready for school soon. You remain in bed, your heart pounding as you eavesdrop.

“I know something happened while I was gone. I’m not blind, Steve. She won’t tell me. She’s afraid to.”

“If you’re implying—”

“—I trusted you. You’re supposed to be protecting her. She’s never had a father.”

“That’s my fault how, exactly? Because you had a one night stand with some random stranger in a bar eighteen years ago and didn’t bother to get so much as a name—”

“—I know his name. I found it out later. I lied to Henry and told him I was getting an abortion. He was going to do the right thing—”

“—I…what?” Steve’s voice changes abruptly. So soft you can barely hear him now. You draw back the covers and tiptoe over to the wall, pressing your ear against it. “What was his name?”

“It hardly matters now. He’s long gone. Anyway, you’re missing the point—”

“—What was his name?” Raglan repeats. Still so quiet.

“Henry Emily.”

Your mother knew. She’d always told you she didn’t. A lie of eighteen years now uncovered. You lean back against the wall heavily, needing support. How quickly your whole world was falling apart around you.

Silence for a long time. You hear the adjoining bathroom door open and close. Your eyes flick to the clock. It’s time to get ready for school.

***

The silence continues around the breakfast table. Steve doesn’t touch his coffee. You push your full plate away. He is still staring at you, but now there’s something different in that look. You don’t understand the foreign glint in his eyes.

Your mother still has a week off from work. Perhaps she’s grateful for an excuse not be around your stepfather right now. She busies herself with the housework.

You follow the older man out the door. His vehicle is behind yours, your mother’s beside his. You can still feel the weight of his gaze when you enter the car.

***

You have study hall last period today. You leave early, your car now headed to the social services office your parents work in. You have only been here a few times. Usually just to drop something off or pick something up. Never for a visit. Never for this.

You’re recognized instantly in reception and after a quick phone call told you can go head on in. Steve’s office door is plain, solid wood. His name and title are slotted on a plate beside it. You knock and hear his voice.

You enter and close the door behind you.

His office smells like coffee. It’s warmly lit by a pair of lamps, cozier without the use of the standard office fluorescents above. The window blinds are closed. There is a lot in that small space. It’s organized, but crowded. Filing cabinets and bookshelves. A framed district map and nature scene and certificates on the walls.

Your stepfather looks up from the folder sitting on his desk, setting the pen in his hand down on top of it.

“Why aren’t you in school?”

“I had study hall last period. Are you mad at me?”

He hasn’t said a word to you all day before this. You know it’s got something to do with the conversation he’d had with your mother that morning. Something about the revelation of your real father’s identity.

“No, I’m not mad at you.”

His voice is quiet. Neutral. His hands are clenched into fists. There is a tight set to his bearded jaw.

“You’re upset,” you insist. “Did you know my father?”

He blinks. The clock on the wall ticks softly. A little gurgle from the heated pot of coffee that’s still seated on the burner.

“So you eavesdropped.”

“I could hear you arguing. It woke me up.”

“Yes, I knew your father,” he admits quietly.

Your fingers clutch the vinyl chair in front of you. “Did you…did you know him well?”

“Yes. We attended college together. Founded a business together.”

“The restaurant?”

He nods. “He was the engineer. I focused on the economical side of things. There was overlap between the two eventually.”

“You were friends, then.”

“Yes.”

“Close?”

“Yes.”

“Did he tell you about my mother?”

“He did mention her briefly, yes.”

Your breath shudders. He was so eerily calm. You think you’d prefer his anger from the morning at this point. “Do I look like him?”

“The resemblance is uncanny. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. Of course you know you look nothing like your mother. I knew it was your father’s genes responsible. I just didn’t realize who he was.”

“Do you know where he is now?”

“He’s gone.”

“Gone as in skipped town or…?”

“Deceased.”

Your stomach lurches. “What happened?”

“He was very unhappy. He chose to end things early.”

“He killed himself?” You whisper.

“The disappearance of his daughter—your half-sister—he never recovered from that. Then his son went missing and it overwhelmed him. His marriage fell apart. She went first and then he followed.”

“They both…he was…” You’re feeling lightheaded. It’s too much. Granted the man was a stranger, your half-siblings the same, but still.

“Have a seat.” He rises from the desk and guides you into one of the chairs meant for clients. “It’s a lot to take in all at once.”

“So they never found my…my half-siblings?”

“No.”

“And that’s the reason the restaurant closed, because my father…Henry…”

“A little more than that, but it certainly was the start of the collapse as it were.” He drags the chair near yours closer and settles into it. “Look at me.”

You struggle to meet your stepfather’s gaze.

“I know it’s difficult. But you have a right to know the truth. I’m not upset with you. You’ve done nothing wrong. I need you to understand that.” He brushes back the hair from your face.

You wonder if you would have gotten along with your dad. If his wife would have resented your existence. If you and your half-siblings would have played hide and seek in the vast space of the restaurant and snuck into a movie theater to see an R rated horror movie and argued over drive thru options from the rear of the car and whispered secrets, co-conspirators. Suddenly you’re wondering about a life you could have had. Maybe it had been better being an only child. Easier. Attention focused only on you. But the decision had been made for you. No choice. You’re not sure how to feel about that regret for something and someone you’ll never experience now.

“Do you have any pictures of him?”

“No, but I’m sure they exist in some form. An old news article online, maybe.”

“Was he a good person? I mean, outside of the affair and…”

“Yes, he was. Henry had to battle his own inner demons, as all men do, but overall yes, he was a kind, decent human being. There is no shame in being his descendant.”

“You really cared about him?”

A sigh, exhaled with a faint shudder. “Yes, I really did.”

You nod. It’s something, anyway. Some small comfort. A link to your father through this surrogate.

“Are you going to tell mom?”

“I don’t think it’s relevant at this juncture. You are the one that needed to know.”

“What are you going to do about…”

“I’m working that out. I promise. My feelings for you have not changed.” He stands. You rise to your feet. “You still want me, baby girl?” His voice is husky.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Another shuddering sigh. His mouth crushes yours.

***

William rushes through the last two appointments of the day.

He’s told you to wait for him at the pizzeria.

He still can’t believe you’re Henry’s daughter.

How strange fate was to bring you into his path this way. As if you cannot escape each other. Forever destined to intertwine.

He wonders where your eldest half-sibling is. If fate will somehow bring him back to him as well. He’d be 25 now. Something like that. The last time he’d seen him had been at that state park in Nebraska. A family camping trip turned into another tragedy when he’d stolen Henry’s youngest son.

William parks beside your car. He cannot help but see Henry now when he looks at you. Maybe that’s what had drawn him to you all along.

He brings you back to the manager’s office. He thinks about your father seated there behind the desk he’s just set you on, confessing his act of adultery that had created you.

There is no foreplay that afternoon.

William reaches beneath your uniform skirt and jerks your panties down. He unfastens his belt and opens his pants and shoves his cock into you.

“Oh, baby girl. I need this so badly…” He nips your throat.

“Daddy…” You wrap your legs around his waist and he leans into you, penetrating you more deeply.

“You like it, sweet girl? Hmmm?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Tell Daddy how much you love his big cock in you.”

“I love it. I love your big cock, Daddy,” you gasp. Your nails clutch his back as his prick drives against your pussy over and over, punching little moans of pleasure out of your lungs. “Love it when you fill me up so full of your cum…”

“You want that, baby girl? Want Daddy to breed you? I’m gonna to fill you so fucking full…”

“Yes, Daddy,” you whine. Your lips are parted beneath his. He lets a trail of saliva drop down onto your tongue before he slides tightly wrapped lips over it, sucking it back off your tongue, mouth moving over it like he’s working over a cock, getting it all spit slick. His prick pistons roughly, ramming against your cervix. “Love it, Daddy. Love it, love it, love you…”

Your hair pulled back roughly so you’re looking into his eyes. “You’re mine,” he growls. Not Henry’s daughter. His. He never wanted you. Afton’s always wanted you from the moment he’d laid eyes on you.

“I am yours, Daddy. Just yours.” You stretch to capture his lips.

“Made for me. Mine.” The pounding has become so wet and sloppy and frantic. You’re both sweating. You cling to him and rock and grind against him.

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum. Fuck, Daddy…” He feels you twitch and spasm and shudder around him. One hand slams down on the desk, fingers gripping the edge tightly. The knuckles blanch whiter and whiter. The light leaving Garrett’s eyes. His rough kisses split your bottom lip and draw blood. So much of it from such a small body. Charlie’s wide, surprised eyes, so like your own…

William explodes, filling you with his seed as promised. He feels your hand on the arm still held taut, gripping the desk. He realizes you’ve been trying to get his attention. He rockets back from the past and his gaze focuses on you.

“Steve…”

“My name’s not Steve, it’s William.”

Another long kept secret revealed.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader #dividers credit @saradika-graphics

[letsgetrowdy43]

From Eden (Rowan’s Version)—

Quinn Hughes x Honey Hughes

I tried a new style of writing, it's a bit more creative writing than normal so tell me if you like it!!

Ro's 1000 follower celly

Au Masterlist!!

"Babe, there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you. Don't you agree? Babe, there's something lonesome about you, something so wholesome about you. Get closer to me?"

Quinn’s draft day had been nerve-racking up until the moment his name was called, relief filling his lungs as the Canuck’s general manager called his name.

Seventh overall, it was a great day to be Quinn Hughes.

As their gazes collided, he was abruptly enveloped in his mother's arms. Yet, the impression of Honey's stare lingered in the back of his mind.

Something about this moment mixed with the way his best friend stared at him with such pride and love had him foggy-brained as he hugged Luke and then Jack quickly.

He made his way through his family members, thanking them and hugging them for everything before he found himself placed in front of her. She stood so prettily in a blue long-sleeve dress that matched his tie, something that Ellen had orchestrated to make their day more special.

A soft blush adorned her cheeks as she chewed on the inside of her plump lips, uncertainty filled her as she searched for the perfect words but was met with a silent cry of happiness as he pulled her into his chest. It was the perfect moment in his eyes. Every important person in his life at his side and the girl he loved most whispered short affirmations of her pride in him into his ear.

In the tender hug that followed, a sigh of pure contentment escaped her lips as his face found comfort nestled in the crook of her neck. "I'm so proud of you, Q," she whispered. Quinn, overwhelmed by the weight of unspoken feelings, could only manage a subtle nod, his voice lost to the emotions building up within him.

Instead, he expressed his gratitude with a kiss pressed against her blushing cheek before slipping his jacket from his shoulders and gently draping it across hers—a silent testament to the warmth that existed not only in fabric but in the shared moments of vulnerability and pride.

Jack looked at her knowingly as she fixed the jacket that sat on her shoulders, his arm wrapping around her shoulder as they along with the rest of the Hughes family and friends watched the oldest walking up to the stage to shake hands with the members of the organization.

Loud cheers erupted through the arena as he slipped the blue and green jersey over his head and onto his frame. A smile found its place on his face as he looked to the photographer in front of him taking his photo before exiting the stage. But not before looking back at the crowd, finding his family, and giving his best friend a little wave before heading toward the media booths.

★★★★

"No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony. No 'who cares', no vacant stares, no time for me."

Honey ran her fingers through her tangled wet hair, the salt water causing the ends to curl. In the radiant embrace of summer, Honey blossomed into a picture of beauty. Quinn thought she was the most beautiful thing to walk this earth.

His heart stammered in his chest as her fingers stopped playing with her hair and moved to his, her fingers fixing the mess of damp hair that sat atop his head. Breath got caught in his throat as her fingers stopped playing with his hair and moved down to fix the dainty gold chain that hung from his neck, a draft gift from Honey's family, that he had yet to take off since she put it on him in late June.

It was now August, meaning that decisions were being made, and Quinn was being pressed into either returning back for his sophomore year at Michigan or moving across the continent to British Columbia to fulfil his dreams.

Quinn found himself standing at a crossroads, where the lines of destiny branched into two possibilities. One path beckoned him toward the path of his future, whispering promises of a professional athletic career. The other held the allure of youth, freedom, and the silent melody of unspoken confessions that he had yet to complete.

Summer's gentle touch adorned her, the radiance of her smile, lingered for mere seconds before a frown wove its way onto her expression. "Have you made a decision yet, about school?" she whispered, the words carrying both curiosity and an awareness of the timing.

She understood that the weight of such a decision wasn't something he wished to face at this moment, yet the curiosity that danced in her eyes revealed the undeniable urge to be in the know.

"I think I'm gonna wait another year, they said it was up to me, and I just think another year would be better for me," he watched as she tried to contain the excitement that was clearly written on her face. "Makes sense," she said in a sad attempt at being straight-faced, which he immediately read through as her grin got the best of her.

"Not that I don't want you to go fulfill your dreams, but I want you by my side for at least one more year, I'm selfish," she said repositioning herself so her head could rest against his shoulder, "I don't know what I would do without you Q" "You'll be just fine Hun, I'm never really gone, just a quick call away," he smiled as she moved momentarily to press a kiss to his sunburnt shoulder.

The awareness stayed in the space between them– Quinn would always be a simple phone call away from a decision that could alter the course of their lives. The potential of the forthcoming adult world loomed, yet there remained a precious promise of one more year. One more year to soak up the unbreakable bond that made them inseparable.

Honey and Quinn adopted a silent vow to make this final year, their sophomore year, an era of memories

★★★★

"Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago, idealism sits in prison, and chivalry fell on its sword. Innocence died screaming, Honey, ask me I should know. I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door"

In the warmth of his dorm room, Quinn found himself mesmerized by the allure of Honey's kisses. Since the moment their lips first connected, an insatiable hunger had taken residence within him, fueled by her intoxicating adoration.

"I think I'm in love with you," he confessed, the words a tender murmur as Honey laid her head against his bare chest. Soft breaths escaped her lips, creating a gentle rhythm with the beat of their hearts. In the quiet intimacy of their entangled limbs and sheets, she smiled against his skin, a silent acknowledgment of the emotions that words could only begin to express.

Her fingers traced circles on his skin, and she sat up, her gaze meeting his with a soft intensity. "I know I'm in love with you," she declared, her words carrying the weight of certainty, she leaned in to press a less gentle, more passionate kiss to his chapped lips.

★★★★

"Babe, there's something wretched about this, something so precious about this. Where to begin? Babe, there's something broken about this, but I might be hoping about this. Oh, what a sin"

There was something so tragic about being in love with someone who lived so far away.

The ache of longing manifested in her final kiss, a sweet torment as tears welled in her eyes. She desired relief in his arms, her face buried in the curve of his neck as she mumbled about calling whenever he felt. "I swear Quinn, you call whenever you need to talk, even if you think it's something dumb wanna hear about it all," she mumbled as he smiled into the crown of her head. "Thank you, Hun," and with that her fingers gripped the soft cotton of his sweater, and his hands traced comforting patterns across her shoulder blade, a silent reassurance echoing through the tender touch, as they swayed back and forth.

With a heartfelt whisper, words of her adoration for him were followed by sad murmurs about how she would miss him. As he pulled away, the lingering warmth of his lips on her cheek, oblivious to his brothers' groans, left an unforgettable mark. "Thank you for everything Hun," he smiled a genuine expression of love on his face.

With one last squeeze, he began to make his rounds of goodbyes to his family, leaving Honey with a promise. "Go have a good rest of the semester, I'll see you in a few weeks, and then we have all summer together," he affirmed.

As he hugged his little brothers, Honey stood, both anchored and adrift, in the thought of their shared moments, eagerly awaiting the summer.

★★★★

"To the strand a picnic plan for you and me, a rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree"

"Date night?" Quinn nodded to his brother as he stole a quilt from the hall closet and draped it over his arm, "You're so in love, it's unbecoming," the comment earned Jack a glare as Quinn shoved the blanket into a bag. "That's a really big word for you J," he poked back which gained a laugh from Jack. "I'm just saying, you are fulfilling your dreams and you get the girl, it sounds like it's gonna be your year," Jack teased, savouring the chance to poke fun at his older brother, but instead of pressing any more he left to go and bother Luke instead.

As Jack retreated, Quinn stood there, quilt in hand, fully aware that this was in fact his year.

Honey got his car, the engine humming with potential, a cooler bag of dinner nestled by her feet, as she leaned over the center console, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Where are we going?" "I don't know," Quinn admitted honestly, his eyes reflecting the spontaneity of the evening, "we could go to the park, or that little clearing outside of town."

His gaze lingered on the girl beside him, her hair woven into loose braids and the bridge of her nose adorned with freckles and a hint of sunburn.

The words "outside of town" escaped her lips like a secret shared between the couple, "It's more private," Honey's whisper hung in the air. Leaning in, she sealed the idea with a passionate kiss, leaving Quinn momentarily breathless.

Quinn, hand now on the wheel, felt a combination of excitement and dizziness. His other hand found its way to her thigh as they set forth on the road to the outskirts of Plymouth.

It was Quinn's year, and he was sooo in love.

★★★★

"Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago. Idealism sits in prison, and chivalry fell on its sword. Innocence died screaming, Honey, ask me I should know. I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door"

In the quiet embrace of nostalgia, Quinn found himself lost in his old Instagram posts, scrolling through the old captured memories that he hadn't looked through in years. The images that appeared on the screen told tales of life, their life together. Each photo was a snapshot of a chapter he had lived alongside her and were the moments that had sculpted him into the person he would become today.

With baby Maeve cradled in his arms, a symbol of the present and the future, Quinn's heart warmed at the stark contrast between then and now. Fifteen years had woven into a prosperous life of experiences, and as he looked up from his phone, he saw the picture-perfect scene unfolding before him. His wife, snug on the couch, sharing a bowl of popcorn and M&M's with their other two children as they watched old Disney movies

In this snapshot of domestic bliss, Quinn realized just how full of love his life had been. Quinn's heart swelled with an appreciation for the present— Honey and their babies were his everything, and in that quiet living room, surrounded by their shared history, Quinn cherished the beauty of his life.

-

-

-

#thelittlesthughesau!! #⭐️ro's1000followercelly⭐️ #quinn hughes #dad!quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fic

[midnight-vixn]

You want some thirsts?! Have a random sprinkling of headcanons from the smut fairy.

Satan growls. No moans, no gasps, not much talking. Just variations on growls, usually the deep bass-y rumble deep in his chest as he watches your face. He even growls his praise into your ear.

Asmodeus is an absolute GOD with his fingers and he'll play with you at any chance he gets. Under the table during a lesson? Don't mind him. RAD meeting? Best be quiet, gorgeous~. Movie night under a blanket? You'd better hope Mammon doesn't clock on.

Speaking of Mammon, he gets greedy for your pleasure. He's drawn one orgasm out of you, he wants more. More. MORE. It's like his brain switches off and he just needs you, his sin fully takes over and he just indulges in you until it's sated.

Diavolo loves having you "dressed" in dainty golden chains, jewels and precious gemstones. You're not his queen, you're his goddess, his deity, and he'll worship you the second you ask. He'll gift you with beautifully scented oils, perfumes and lotions that leave his bedsheets with a tiny lingering scent of you, even after they've been washed. Underneath your RAD uniform you just wear these little gold chains and jewellery so expensive it would make Mammon cry. But it's for Diavolo's eyes only.

Solomon is always in control. Whether he's on top or power bottoming. However, he's good at making you think you're in control. He keeps up the façade well until he starts getting close and the "switch" flips and the next thing you know you're pinned under him and he's absolutely feral above you. Smothering your face with kisses and giving bites to your neck as he wills himself to last just that bit longer as he enjoys your tightness around him.

Lucifer loves going down on you, maybe more than Beel, maybe. There's something about just playing with you that drives him insane. Maybe it's the fact you can't stop moaning his name with your fingers threaded into his hair. It's pure lust and passion, no thought going through your mind other than him and his name. That stokes a kind of pride in him that he's not felt in a long time. Knowing that you can think of nothing but him.

I had to physically lay down for a minute after reading all these sldksksk

I’m a firm believer that all the boys growl if you get them worked up enough during sex but Satan growling the most is so fitting!! He has this primal instinct that comes out when he fucks (I think Beel growls just as much)

Yesssss Asmo being willing to play with you/please you literally whenever you ask is such 🤤 the same goes reversed though, he’ll let you touch him whenever you want he has zero shame, though he prefers to be in his room where things can get extra steamy he’ll gladly let you rub his growing erection under the desk in class.

Oh yes yes yessss Mammon is soooo greedy for you!!! For your kiss, your touch, your taste, he constantly needs more!! If you think you’re only fucking for one round with him you’re sorely mistaken

Oh goooood Diavolo showering you in riches, gifting you expensive dainty jewelry to wear, maybe even expensive lingerie to wear under you uniform and only he knows about it. Mmmmm Diavolo who buys you a choker/collar with a little heart charm that has a D engraved on it 😵‍💫🤤 just so everyone knows who you belong to.

Solomon is a switch you’re right say it louder👏🏻 he loves to be under you and watch your fucked out face as he fills you up but will just as quickly flip you over and ram into you like a toy.

Lucifer being so in love with eating you out that if you give him a certain look and spread your legs apart he’s instantly hard. He’s pulling you away to the nearest vacant room and pulling your underwear off so he can worship you with his tongue.

#obey me smut #midnight thirsts #obey me mammon smut #obey me diavolo smut #obey me lucifer smut #obey me satan smut #obey me asmo smut #obey me solomon smut

[bloodlust-1]

꒦꒷ Blood Bond ꒷꒦

Bound by blood, associated by marriage.

Gortash x fem Tav durge Explicit 18+

Chapter: 2

Part one ->here<-

No warnings. You know what you came here for.

The next morning, Tav woke up in her bed, feeling the absence of her husband. A small piece of paper caught her eye as it sat on the disheveled sheets of his side of the bed, resting on his pillow. She reached out for the note, her eyes scanned the message:

“Good morning, wife. I will be out for meetings with the noblemen of our neighboring city. I will meet you over dinner. -Gortash.”

Tav furrowed her eyebrows in frustration and crumpled the note. It was their first day of being married, and yet he uninvited her to business proceedings.

Tav crumpled the note in her hand. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment and annoyance at Gortash’s absence. The fact that he was making political appearances without including her made her feel sidelined. This was her kingdom. She ran the show now, not him.

She sat up, running her hands through her hair to smooth it down, and winced as the fresh wound on her palm stung. Tav let out a tired yawn before proceeding with her morning routine, summoning a servant to assist her with dressing.

He defied her. It's all Tav could think about as her fork stabbed her breakfast a little too aggressively. His stupid face reminisced in her head.

That smug grin in her head was anger fuel enough. Tav wanted nothing short of a perfect image, and he was fucking with it already.

After breakfast, Tav stomped her way to his office, rummaging through his drawers and scattering papers and notes to the floor. Angrily, she searched for any information that might shed light on Enver’s business proposals. She read through treaties, news, and rumors of possible alliances with different kingdoms.

Tav gritted her teeth as she discovered more than Enver had shared with her. She hated learning information herself rather than relying on others to provide it for her.

In between the scattered papers on the desk, a sleek black dagger with intricate gold filigree detailing lay nestled in the drawer. Tav’s eyes were drawn to the weapon, and she reached out to pick it up, feeling its weight in her hand. With a decisive movement, she tucked the dagger into the waistband of her pants, the cool metal pressing against her skin.

Leaving the room in disarray, Tav made her way back to their chambers, stomping her heels against the ground. Despite attempting to keep herself occupied, she found her gaze repeatedly drawn to the window, where she stood waiting for his arrival with a simmering sense of malice.

When night fell, Tav prepared for dinner with meticulous care. She selected an exquisite satin black dress adorned with red beads resembling blood droplets, the fabric hugging her delicate curves. She adorned her horns with dainty golden chains to complement her attire and accessorized with a matching jewelry set.

Tav had an ethereal beauty, her fragile yet captivating allure reminiscent of a goddess. However, beneath this facade lay a personality akin to a snake's.

Most days, Tav's behavior was as tranquil and composed as any other evil queen. However, when Bhaal's presence entered her mind, she faced an intense inner battle. Bhaal's influence brought with it a maliciousness that sought to take control of her actions, filling her with dark and violent thoughts.

Tav fought to keep her sanity, to keep the murderous thoughts at bay, all while being haunted by the knowledge that this darkness was a part of her, thanks to her father's wickedness.

As Tav’s heels clicked against the floor, she made her way into the dining hall. The table was full of an array of dishes, including a selection of expensive meats wafting through the air. Despite the lavish spread, Tav sat there lonely. Gortash had yet to make an appearance for dinner. Feeling a sense of isolation, Tav closed her eyes and offered a quiet prayer before partaking in the meal set before her.

Suddenly, Gortash stumbled into the room, his body looking heavy with weariness. His skin was pale and his dark circles were more pronounced than usual, almost as if he hadn't slept in days. His eyes were barely open as he made his way towards the dinner table and plopped himself down on a chair.

Gortash looked over at Tav and in a hoarse, low voice he asked, "Why the sour face?"

“You excluding me from private meetings to govern a city that rightfully belongs to me,” Tav stated firmly as she gracefully rose from her seat, the chair making a subtle scraping noise against the floor.

Her graceful strides were full of poise and purpose as she walked towards Gortash, continuing, “I have endured countless trials and tribulations, including blood baths and battles, all in pursuit of a husband who dares to defy me.” She then proceeded to walk eerily around Gortash’s chair.

Leaning over his back as he sat, Tav whispered with conviction, “This city is now under my control. Whatever plans you had in place before now involve me. I am an integrated part of everything.”

Her words cut deep, but to Gortash, her harsh words were music to his ears. He loved that she challenged him: and tried to have authority over him. Just like old times.

"That's no way to speak to your king like that. You of all those nobodies should know I don't take shit from anyone." Gortash leaned his back close enough to press against Tav's breasts.

He tilted his head back and glanced carelessly up at her. "The child of Bhaal. So sloppy you are, the urge within you will only wreak havoc. And to think, I have to call that my wife." He scoffed with annoyance ingrained into his face.

Tav pulled out his knife from her undergarments, her breath warming the back of his ear as she whispered, "You fail to see the power I have over you..." With precision, she tightened the blade against his skin, compelling his head upwards. Her tongue trailed from the base of his neck to his cheek.

A malevolent giggle escaped her lips, and the look in his eyes turned dominant. They both knew they’d clash in this power dynamic. Neither of them wanted to budge an inch when it came to control, and whenever they had it, it was hard to take it away.

With mercy, Tav retracted her knife from his neck. She could hear him heavily breathing as he tried to catch his breath. His neck burned red from the blade as she walked over to the edge of the table. With one swipe, Tav pushed the silver plates and food placed in front of Enver onto the floor.

Tav’s eyes narrowed as she uttered the command, her voice dripping with a menacing edge. "Leave, now." She turned her gaze towards the servant, who quickly bowed and scurried out of the room, visibly shaken by the hard threat in her words.

Tav's eyes blinked back to Gortash, whose face grew angered and confused. Tav propped herself up on the edge of the table, dark eyes pierced his own challenged look.

She spreads her legs, only revealing the black silk panties to him, "Eat." She commanded.

"Tch - Why should I?" his eyes narrowed into a glare as he peered down at the figure before him. Her dress’s fabric began to roll up her hips as she parted her legs in front of him.

Tav stabbed the knife forcefully into the wooden table, letting the blade stand up in the grain. Tav made sure her message was clear and understood. She was not to be ignored.

She flashed the same fresh slice wound on her palm as his, "Because, your wife needs attention." She pouted and batted her eyelashes. She eyed his posture, noticing him sitting up with his back straightened in interest.

"You owe it to me. You left me all alone today." Tav hummed seductively.

Getting Gortash to just get a taste of her would certainly drive him crazy. The more he craved her, the easier it would be to have him wrapped around her finger. The power lay in the ability to stoke desire and manipulate him.

His eyes gleamed in excitement, the woman he had recognized to be so beautifully condescending was there, opened-legged for him. Gortash sighed huskily in approval. Long silver curled hair, tight dress, dark eyes, long slender legs, and a cocky attitude to go with it. She was a dream, a vision.

Gortash hooked his arms around her thighs, dragging her body closer to his face. Tav's tail wrapped around his arm in approval, and the jewelry from her horns dangled as she propped herself up with her elbows. Tav fell silent, anticipating his next move.

Tav felt the warmth of his breath hit against her core. Her tail tightened around his arm as an invitation. His tongue dragged against the silk, nibbling the fabric at her clit. His spit damped the silk as his tongue teasingly pressed against her core of the panties.

"You play with your food often?" Tav puffed out her cheeks impatiently. Her face flushed a deep crimson, it was the first time Gortash had seen her face so red without the existence of blood. And it felt so good to be the one to cause it.

His tongue circled her covered core mumbling between licks, "Only with you."

he planted kisses on her panties and then on her thighs. Enver gently drew her skin between his teeth, leaving behind delicate deep purple hickeys. The subtle pain was washed away with pleasure once again as his fingers pulled aside the silk of her panties.

The tip of his tongue traced her clit teasingly, first slowly then roughly. Her sweet tinge on his tongue spread across his tastebuds. Her aroma, taste, and the sweet victory of her whimpers; set him off the edge. His mouth found itself glued between her legs. Groans and moans filled the room while his saliva ran down between her inner thighs.

Tav’s back arched as a result of the goosebumps that swiftly traveled up her spine. The sensation of her skin prickling in ecstasy from Gortash’s attention was undeniable.

It was a moment of intense physical reaction, where every touch seemed to send shivers down on her skin. The slurping noises coming between her legs were layered between Tav's moans.

Gortash flicked and sucked her clit, his hands dug into her bruised thighs creating small indentations that reddened her skin. It was sloppy, rough, and tense.

Tav loved the pain. Her hands felt down her curves until it reached the top of his head. Her fingers intertwined with his messy hair, tugging it firmly into her palm.

The sudden pull forced his face closer against her wet core, moans flowed like lyrics. The feminine rage that pent up inside her brewed closer into bliss deep in her core.

Gortash furrowed his brows each time he received a firm tug. His eyes gazed up at Tav’s sweaty body and onto her face. She was hazy, eyes half opened with a buck of her hips each time his tongue graced her clit.

Gortash could feel her thighs tighten around him as well as the grip on her tail. Tav’s free hand cupped one of her breasts threw her dress, pleasuring herself with small touches.

He forced her legs back opened once her twitching started. An orgasm was close, but he wanted her to beg and plead in what little domination he held.

Gortash roughly pinned Tav’s legs open, and his tongue clicked faster circling around her clit. Tav yelped out, her groin twitched and tensed as a final scream left her lips.

“What a mess you made.” Gortash mumbled while dragging his tongue for a final swipe of her juices. He leaned up and wiped his wet mouth across his sleeve.

Tav panted, her shakey legs lowered slowly onto the table. She grabbed the handle of Gortash’s dagger, pulling the blade up from the wood grain, “I suppose you aren’t truly useless.” she whispered hazily.

“You frustrate me incredibly, my dear.” His eyes hungrily peered down at her exposed legs.

Enver's calmness washed over his face with lust. Tav was an old ‘friend’ before she lost her memory. Secret lovers even, but all was lost in time, and now it was like life was giving him another chance with her. He missed his partner in crime and here she was, a new woman.

Tav stood up, wobbling in her steps as she sat back down at the dinner table. She hiked her dress back down with a sway of her hips. Just a taste he would get. “If you’re good, I’ll consider bedding you.” Tav spoke with a slight shakey voice, but with a sternness, “If I don’t decide to kill you first.”

Damn did he look good sweaty, wet with her cum on his face. A changed opinion she had felt about his face since yesterday. Tav sipped on her wine, a small grin tugging at her lips.

Dinner wasn’t the only thing he ate that night.

Next part here

Any Thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

#bg3 tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #enver gortash #gortash x durge #dark urge x gortash #tav x gortash #gortash smut #gortash x tav #gortash x reader #lord gortash

[munsster]

hi! could you make a robin buckley x reader where she thinks the reader is dating steve but in reality the reader has a crush on her?LOL and im the end they both confess and it’s like awkward but cute? THAMK U! i hope that made sense

gold medal babe

A/N: this is the sweetest fkn thing i LOVE a good awkward wlw confession

Pairing: Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Summary: Robin still doesn’t understand everyone’s apparent obsession with Steve. Turns out, neither do you! 1.7k words

Warnings: fluff, miscommunication, mutual pining, angsty/jealous gay behavior

Each poke, each wise crack, each inside joke made Robin want to suffocate. Steve must have been exposed to radioactive waste or something because there’s no way a girl like you agreed to date him without some lawless external force. Not when you’re all smiles and graphic tights and kitten heels and pearl studs. Not when you’re the perfect girlfriend—thoughtful and soft and so charismatic, not to mention the epitome of grace and all things lovely—and Robin’s starting to wonder what makes Steve so goddamn lucky.

So here she is, flicking through random names on the store’s computer screen, bored out of her mind listening to Steve explain the rules of some obscure European sport you’ve never even heard of. She’s scrolled through twelve Richards already when you laugh, clutching your stomach and doubling over from where you’re perched on the edge of the counter, legs swinging out when you lose your balance.

Robin’s quick to whip around in her chair when you tilt forward a little too far, only to find Steve’s hands already on your shoulders. And he looks constipated with worry, which only makes you laugh harder. She spins back around, flushed and jittery hoping you didn’t catch her overzealous reflexes.

“Somebody’s had one too many slammers.” Steve teases, and you flick at his chest.

“Shut up, Harrington,” you say. Robin catches you in the blurry reflection of the monitor: the unmistakable curve of your cherry red lips, the dainty chain peeking from the neck of your dress, the way your ringed fingers brush over the hem of your uniform green vest.

“Shut up, Harrington,” he whines.

“Oh, that’s real mature. What would your mother think?”

“Hey, lay off’a my ma.”

“That’s not what she wanted last night—gross, gross, stop!” you squeal because he pops his pinky into his mouth, pushing the slick little finger towards your ear. But you snag his wrist and shove him away before he can get any closer.

The glass door swings open to a cute little family of four, the two kids bursting off from the group. Excited squeals fill the aisles of shelved tapes, and you chirp out a generic greeting—the one they coached you on when you were hired.

“Not it,” Steve huffs. Robin sighs and stands from her chair, planting her palms on either side of the register with a deflated look. Almost like a grimace.

“I can take this one,” you coo, tugging at her sleeve and hopping down with the nicest fucking smile she’s ever seen, and it’s enough for her to fumble the play and shuffle around a little.

“Oh, no, I can—I’ve got it. Besides, now you and Steve can go… yunno, whatever. ‘S no problem.”

“Okay.” You nod, lips pursed, glancing back at Steve, wide-eyed and kind of panicked while he just whistles and turns on his heel to weave through the store.

He plucks one of the movies off the new release stand, scanning the back when one of the kids scampers up to him. Not saying a word, just breathing heavily and watching him.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says, giving her a warm smile that she gleefully reciprocates with about half her teeth missing. The little girl grabs at his hand, her gold pigtails bouncing as she tugs him to the section deemed the kids section, decorated with paper butterflies and instruments.

“What the hell was that? Did you see that? God, that was horrible—”

“You loved Snow White? Maybe you’ll like Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty—speaking of princesses,” Steve stands just to glare directly at you, “I’m trying to do my job. You know, the one I’m paid to do, not relationship counseling or some sh—”

“You can’t counsel something that doesn’t exist! You’re supposed to be Steve Harrington, remember? You get all the ladies, this should be a walk in the park.”

“Clearly not all of them, thanks to you two,” he says, crouching down to the child with her hands grabbing at any and every movie with a cartoon animal on the cover, “let me introduce you to my friend, she’s nice sometimes, and she’s also really good at picking out movies, okay?”

The little girl looks up at you with her big green eyes, and you sigh, smacking Steve on the arm and handing her a film from the top shelf.

“I think you’re gonna find Alice in Wonderland a lot more interesting, honey, here you go”—the blondie hugs the tape to her chest and skips back to the front of the store, babbling with each hurried step. Meanwhile, you turn to Steve who’s leaned against the wall like a bastard—“you promised to help me.”

“Yeah, that was when there was something in it for me. Oh, wait, there never was, I’m just an insanely good friend.”

“Steve, I swear to God, if you help me, I will never bother you again.”

“Robin—!”

The family scoots back through the doorway when Robin sees the two of you huddled awkwardly near the back of the store. Steve grabs your hand and walks you to the counter with a bared-teeth-grin.

“Robin, (Y/n), you’re both girls, right? Great, my friend just called and said it was an emergency, so I’m going to leave. And hey, since it’s only”—he checks his wristwatch frantically—“five minutes until your shifts are over, why don’t you ride home together? Sound good? Awesome.”

And he practically bolts for the door, whipping his beamer out of the lot while you and Robin stand across from each other, mouths open in shock and awe

“What does us being girls have anything to do with that?” She says, and her head swivels to look at you, her hair wild and her heart racing, and you’re smiling at her which isn’t making any of it better. It’s like you’re a siren, and she doesn’t know whether to surrender or seek shelter or swim. You drown every coherent thought she’s ever had with one bat of your swooping lashes, and standing right here is like facing God dripping in grape-flavored sin.

Then you giggle, hiding your face in your hands, which makes her laugh, which makes you laugh until you’re both leaned back against opposing countertops and heaving in deep, huffing breaths between his watch doesn’t even work and he has no other friends.

Once you catch your breath, you’re not even safe. Her head is tilted back, pretty eyes fixed on the speckled ceiling, lips parted and smiling just a little at the thought. The thought that you might actually like her. The thought that you’re everything she has ever wanted and the thought that she’s crazy for it. Even if you are breathless at the sight of her, you’re dating Steve. She’d be nothing but your sidequest. Something to achieve and forget.

“Alright,” she sighs, “I better go. My shift ended thirty minutes ago.” She grabs her blazer from the back of the office chair, and you watch her wave when she steps outside. Her shoes are heavy on the pavement, and she almost doesn’t want to walk away. The thought of you keeps dragging her back by the bootstraps. Every time she tries to leave, get over it, live another day, she sees you and she’s back at square one.

“Robin!”

Her heart sinks. The way you say her name is like life support. The IV drip of gods, feeding her straight simple syrup like she’s a hummingbird with an ache. Indulgent and sated and licking her lips because she’ll always know the taste of your girlish charm.

“Robin, wait,” you pant, hands on your hips, taking a deep breath and drawing a sweat across your brow, “d’you wanna go… out? There’s this super cute diner downtown, Steve showed it to me when—”

“You mean just you and me?”

You tilt your head at her, surely smirking at what she may have thought you meant.

“Yeah. Just you and me. And a little dinner. Is that… oh, did I—? Did I read this wrong? I’m so sorry,” you say, scratching the back of your neck and sighing deeply into your chest.

“Wait, what? No, no, sorry, I just think… I’m pretty sure Steve would kill me,” she says with a laugh.

“Why would… why would he kill you?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe because I’d be going out with his girlfriend.”

“His girlfriend? Me? Yeah, I’ll pass. He’s so…”—you wave your hands out in front of you before shrugging—“I mean, he’s handsome, I’ll give him that, but…”

You’re not dating Steve. So then what the hell were the last three months for if she wasted them sulking over her two favorite people who were theoretically sucking face behind the scenes. All that fuss for absolutely nothing. Well maybe not nothing, because the way you’re looking at her now—all tender and soul-crushing—might bring her to her knees.

“Wait, you mean you don’t like Steve? Not even a little?”

“Not even at all. What I feel for Steve is and will always be a friend thing. Strictly platonic,” you say, “plus, why would I need him when I’ve got you to worry about?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Why would I need him when—”

“No, no, I heard you, it’s just,” she huffs, “you worry about me?”

“C’mon, I know you reel in the babes. Gotta make sure I stay in first place.”

She’s short-circuiting right about now. Someone up there’s taking a screwdriver to her central power and going ham. Because this is something straight out of dreams. There’s no cheesy indie rock playing, but there’s a helluva lot of confessing happening. And she feels a little weird standing a sidewalk’s length apart.

So she hops onto the curb. And suddenly, you’re a lot closer now. And she can feel your body heat when you inch towards her in your squeaky new loafers.

“Like it’s even a competition for you,” she mumbles. And your chest swells with pride, flooding hot and sweet with the bright look in her eye. You reach for her waist to pull her close enough to count her freckles one by one. How the sun blessed her skin with kisses and made it predestined at that. Showed her where they’ll be even once they fade for the winter. They’ll come back, and you’ll count them all over again.

“Guess that means the feeling is mutual,” you say, twisting a strand of her wild auburn hair between your fingertips.

“Very mutual,” she says. You nod, grinning so wide it would hurt if you weren’t so stuck on the way she’s holding your hips.

“So… how d’you feel about milkshakes?”

masterlist

#stranger things #st4 #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #stranger things x y/n #stranger things season four #stranger things x reader #x reader #x fem!reader #wlw #robin buckley fic #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #nick answers ♡ #* #fluff

[roosterscockpit]

Friendsgiving | H.C |

click here to see the master list

Today’s double-post is an H.C 🫶🏼

Yet another H.C for you, Bradley, Leia, your friends, and the Dagger squad ❤️

Happy reading and enjoy! 💕 I love you all! 🫶🏼

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bradley volunteered to host Friendsgiving at his house

Invited the whole dagger squad and your friends.

Bradley and you decorated his house with fall-colored leaves, warm-colored balloons, and small pumpkins.

Dinner was going to be held in his backyard. He set up tables and draped them with cream-colored tables clothes. He added rustic orange runners to the center of the tables. 

You made centerpieces to apace out between the tables. The centerpieces consisted of mason jars filled with mini fairy lights, some twigs, and fake flowers. The flowers were an assortment of rustic orange, red, burgundy, cream, and yellow flowers. 

Bradley laid out candles all along the center of the tables. Along with some extra little pumpkins you had left over. 

Bradley laid out burnt orange circle placemats for everyone. On top of that was a nice big white dinner plate, burnt orange lap napkins folded with the gold cutlery neatly tucked inside of them, a mason jar for drinks, and little place cards that read everyone's names. 

You and Bradley decorated Bradley’s backyard bar. You draped a “Friendsgiving” sign across the front of it. Bradley placed a variety of drinks everyone could help themselves to on the top of the bar. He decorated it with fake candles, flowers, and pumpkins.

Bradley set up chairs all around the table. At the head of the table, he set up the Rooster seat. You looked at it funny. “Who is being punished, Bradley?” You pointed to the seat. “This chair is for Daddy Rooster.” He slapped his hands down on the back which was in the shape of the Rooster. “Best seat in the house. Daddy gets the best seat.” He laughed.

You and Bradley stringed fairy lights all around the backyard for the aesthetic. 

You set up an activity table. It consisted of disposable cameras so everyone can take pictures for you to develop later and place in a crab book. You also added a polaroid camera for quickly developing pictures. You added a bunch of wishbones on the activity table for everyone to pull with one another.

You and Bradley made a backdrop that was fall themed for pictures. You added a crate full of little nicknacks and hats to add some fun to the photos.

After decorating, You and Bradley worked hard in the kitchen. Bradley made the turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, salad, corn, and ham. You worked on the desserts. You made pumpkin, pecan, apple pie, cake pops that looked like turkeys, and cranberry crumble bars.

The three of you wore color-coordinating outfits. You and Bradley dressed Leia in a cream colored turtle neck long sleeve with a brown corduroy overall dress, and some black calf high Dr. Martens boots. You wore a cream strappy jumpsuit with a long brown cardigan and some platformed Dr. Martens. Bradley wore brown ankle-high dress pants, with a cream button-up short sleeve that was tight in all the right areas, and some 1461 Dr. Martens. 

You added a couple of gold rings to your fingers for the outfit and a dainty heart necklace that had the letter B on it. 

Bradley wore his gold rope chain and gold watch.

The dagger squad showed up all together. Your friends showed up altogether as well.

Bri and Billy brought a Mac and cheese casserole, Austin brought stuffing, Phoenix brought green bean casserole, Bob brought some deviled eggs, Coyote brought a sweet potato pie, Payback brought his famous cranberry sauce, Hangman brought his homemade artichoke dip and some chips, and Fanboy brought his appetite. 

Everyone set their dishes down on the dinner table and their desserts on the dessert table. 

Everyone mingled and had some wine while waiting for the rest of the dinner to come out of the oven. Everyone utilized the backdrop, polaroid, and disposable cameras as they waited. 

When all the food Bradley had made was ready, all the guys helped him bring it out and set it on the table.

Everyone saw the Rooster seat. “I knew it would grow on him.” Fanboy shook his head and laughed at the chair.

Bradley pulled yours and Leia’s chair out for you to sit. He pushed you both in and set your napkins in your laps before he kissed your heads and took a seat ahead of the table. You sat to the left of Bradley. Leia to the right. Next to you were Bri, Billy, Bob, and Payback. Next to Leia, Austin, Phoenix, Fanboy, and Coyote. At the other head of the table sat Hangman. 

You all joined hands and Bradley said a little thanks before dinner. 

“Thank you everyone for coming and joining together to have dinner together for an early Thanksgiving. I am truly thankful to have each and every one of you in my life. I am especially thankful for my girls. Without them, life wouldn’t feel as extraordinary. I’m grateful we are all happy and healthy. I hope everyone brought their appetites! Let’s have a great night!”

Everyone went around the table saying what they were thankful for. Bri was grateful for her love Billy, Billy was grateful for Bri, Bob was grateful for choosing to be in the navy to meet all of you, Payback was grateful to be a part of yours and Bradley’s life, Hangman was grateful to be Bradley’s right-hand man, Austin was grateful for the little lady he was sitting next to… or both, Phoenix was grateful for you finally loving Bradley, Coyote was grateful to be surrounded by his second family since he was away from his, and Fanboy was grateful that Bradley was using his chair and for the food.

Bradley raised his glass and you all followed. All together you cheered, “To family, health, and love.” 

You all stuffed yourselves into a food coma, But still had enough room for all the desserts.

Everyone helped themselves to the bar. Fanboy and Bob were white girl wasted. One of the disposable cameras was filled with photos of those two having the times of their lives.

Leia took pictures with everyone at the backdrop. Her favorite picture was of her and Hangman. He had a headband with a turkey on it and was holding Leia in a princess carry. He had Leia dipped down slightly, her feet higher than her head. Leia wrapped one arm around Hangman’s neck and the rest of her limbs spread out. She wore a flower crown croakily on her head. Hangman made a screaming face with his eyes wide and mouth wide open. Leia was smiling big and laughing.

Everyone made their way inside for games. The first game was Pie Face. Everyone took turns and whoever got whip cream to the face had to take a shot. Bob kept wanting to take over when anyone started to get close to getting the whipped cream to the face. He just wanted everyone's shots. 

“The innocent one doesn’t look like a drinker,” Bri whispered to you. You smiled, “Just with family.” 

Leia fell asleep on the couch. Bradley brought her up to his room so she could be away from the noise.

The next game was charades. Phoenix had to act out licking ice cream. She made the motion and movements. She looked around as everyone held their tongue. She threw her hands up and were pointing at people. 

Hangman covered his mouth and shook his head. “Sorry, Nix. No.” Payback laughed, “I think I might know, but I’d rather not say.” She pointed at drunken Bob, “You look like you’re-” You covered his mouth. Fanboy started to laugh loudly, “I was thinking the same thing Bob!” You covered his mouth too. She pointed at Austin, he was clearly buzzed. He looked around and bit his lip. “You look like my next girlfriend?” Bradley slapped him playfully on the chest and they laughed together. Phoenix blushed.

“SHE’S EATING ICE CREAM FOR GOD'S SAKE. SICK-Os!” Bradley huffed out obnoxiously laughing. 

After the games, Phoenix took care of Bob and Fanboy. Everyone else helped clean up the house and backyard. 

By the end of the night, Bri and Billy brought home drunk Austin.

Hangman, Coyote, and Payback left back to the barracks together.

You and Bradley offered Phoenix to stay at the house with Bob and Fanboy.

Bradley carried drunk Bob over his shoulder up the stairs to the spare bedroom. He then came and carried passed-out Fanboy to the same room. Bradley slept in the spare room in a sleeping bag with his boys.

You, Phoenix, and Leia stayed in Bradley’s room. 

“Best Friendsgiving ever, Y/n. Thank you for having us.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you all enjoyed it! I love you all so much! Happy Holidays! Be safe, always! *smooches smooches* 

My cute tags are in the comments! ❤️ 

#miles teller #Bradley bradshaw #rooster #rooster bradsahw #Bradley rooster bradshaw #Happy fall! #Happy thanksgiving #happy holidays! #dagger squad #top gun maverick #top gun #tgm cast #his little girl Bradley Bradshaw x reader #hangman #coyote #phoenix #bob #payback #fanboy #I love u #rooster seat

[platosfire]

✨ krater necklace ✨

in shiny gold mirror with gold filled chain (silver mirror/sterling silver chain also available!)

engraved with dainty leaf and flower bud patterns 🌱💛

#platos fire #greek vase #museum aesthetic #tagamemnon #ancient greece #greek mythology

[manjiroscum]

her, her, her

Character/s: Emma Sano

Warnings: f!reader, explicit sex, mature language, w|w, cunnilingus, tribbing, characters are aged up/18+, squirting, and pet names are used. Minors do not interact.

Note: this is my piece for bby @kazuwhora’s pride month collab🌈

Synopsis: Emma wants to show off her new nails and the watermelon lipgloss she bought.

WC: 1k

She had a way of capturing everyone’s attention, commanding eyes to follow the curve of her lips to the way her blonde hair swayed with every decisive step her legs took. Sano Emma was just as charming as her brothers—perhaps even more so than the three who had their own unique quirks. She’s perfect and she knows this. Long honey eyelashes batting and glossy lips in a pout for the poor sucker behind the taxi wheel to agree on having the ride back to your apartment for free.

It was getting late—having her swear to come home before dinner to avoid crowds and strange individuals tailing her. However, she didn’t want to take the bus or train. Not thinking twice to hail a taxi, she was quick to use her charms.

And to none of anyone’s surprise, he agreed. Thoughts of the ongoing increase in gas prices and his efforts in making money are murked by Emma’s cheeky ways. It wasn’t like that was her only choice to get home, though. A wad of cash still filling her wallet, enough for a trip to the fast food chain she loved.

Her reason for doing this? She just loves to exercise the power of her appeal.

All the taxi driver received, other than no rise in his cash, was a flying kiss from the youngest Sano sibling. A low melodic hum filled the staircase as Emma climbed up to your apartment.

“Hun, I’m home!”

Your girlfriend drawled upon entry, shutting the door behind her before sauntering in, pink floral dress fluttering due to the breeze that entered through the open windows. The dainty new nails she paid for in the shade of gold and lightly studded with tiny gems shone under the afternoon glow that streamed through the thin curtains. Her tongue tasted the flavored gloss on her lips as she looked for your familiar figure around the homey apartment. Her honey-hued irises found you lounging on the bed, a book stuck between your nose. Your head lifted up at the movement by the doorway, lips curling into a smile at the sight of Emma. You gestured for her to come hither, giggling when she swung her hips exaggeratedly as she made her way towards you. A pink paper bag hanging by her wrist which she gently threw onto the armchair by the corner before jumping on top of you.

“Oomph—Em, easy…” Laughter bubbled up to your throat at the ticklish sensation of her glossy lips kissing up the flesh of your neck. Despite it being sticky against your skin, the scent of watermelon was inciting. Lips meeting hers halfway, you hummed in delight as your tongue darted out to swipe on Emma’s bottom lip. “Tasty. Is this the lipgloss you’ve been waitin’ to hit the market? The one you couldn't stop talkin’ about for days? The same lipgloss you—”

“Ha, ha. Very funny. I don’t hear you complaining though.” Emma let out a puff of air, straddling you easily. A smirk on her beautiful face, cheeks pink as she wrapped her hand around your neck. “Do ‘ya like my nails, babe?” She continued once she saw your lips curl up, laying there and taking it. Her golden strands of hair almost acted like a halo around her head to which she tilted playfully. Honey-hued eyes slightly squinting at the scene before her. “Not gonna lie, my hand looks so much better now.” A squeeze halted you from responding, especially when it was accompanied by a grind of her hips.

A moan slipped past both of your lips as Emma started to grind continuously against your clothed pussy. But it never stays that way forever, especially the moment her needy whines started to pour out of her mouth and her fingers reached down carefully to remove your pajamas along with your underwear. Your hands reached down instantly to bury your fingers into her hair as those glossy lips started to peck down kisses straight to your aching core. Pussy lips were pampered by Emma’s long licks and sucking on the throbbing clit. The action had you mewling, fisting into strands of sunshine to show how much you were pleasured by her.

“Mhm, ‘s sweet…” Emma giggled, the vibrations shooting straight to your throbbing clit. Pussy lips wet in your arousal and her saliva. “Taste ‘s good, hun. My fav… Can’t get ‘nough.” Her tongue slowly entered your cunt, a small whine slipped from your tongue as the feeling of her mouth and fingers rubbing on your clit was heavenly. To eat her out on the couch, bed, or even under the shower was your favorite pastime that was slowly becoming a habit such as it was for Emma. Yet, for your girlfriend who loves to be on the receiving end all the time to go down on you like this—despite it not being so rare it certainly felt like you won the lottery today. It was either she wasn’t lazy or she just wanted to show off her new stuff.

Lips drenched in your juices, Emma suddenly sat up, leaving you a whimpering mess who hasn’t been given the high you expected yet. Eyes catching her teasing grin and the show of licking your essence to a point it was what coated her mouth instead of the watermelon lipgloss she bought, you were instantly up. A mess of giggles and squeals erupted. Your hands started removing the rest of your clothes and Emma’s as well. Pretty much everything that was blocking your access from her pretty pussy that was glistening under the afternoon glow got acquainted with the floor. A hiss left your lips, parting Emma’s legs like it was a gift, and settled down in between them. Your aching clit found hers before your hips started to thrust, searching for the right rhythm and friction that would have you two mewling and whining. It didn't take long before you two found it. Emma sobbed, nails finding purchase in the plush of your thighs.

“Cum for me, Em,” you groaned at the writhing beauty below you. Emma was quick to listen to your requests, squirting against your pelvis and abdomen. Both of your backs arched at the feeling. Her moans were high-pitched as you continue to thrust your hips despite already reaching both of your highs. A playful smirk etched on your lips, you leaned down to kiss her mumbling lips. Endlessly babbling for more. “We’re not done yet, babe. Ask nicely and I’ll use the strap.”

🎐taglist: @ranilingus @wakaslut @meganemoon @eroscastle @tobidabio @zuuki @chloee0x @leavemealonebutinpink @kamisoria @festive @keijisprettygirl @httphaitani @marism @stffychn @blueparadis @tokyometronetwork @sanoinc

#pat.✍️fics #tokyo revengers smut #tr smut #tokrev smut #emma sano x reader #emma sano smut #sano emma x reader #pride month collab🌈

[blankdblank]

Divided

Separated outside the Goblin Tunnels and badly injured from taking Azog over the side of that cliff all you had to go off of was what you had been told of the lands ahead of you. Found and healed by the Lorien Elves in a matter of days atop a rather eager elk you rode off East towards the Lonely Mountain. Wary of being detained inside the vast Greater Greenwood some dared to call Mirkwood you went around. The long way, perhaps too far along as you found yourself awakening after a long moonless night on the edges of a vast set of hot springs to low deep voices.

Dwarves by the dozens stripped of their regal attire named themselves by your catch of names the Company had spoken of, well really Thorin had grumbled of in recounting which Dwarf Lords refused to aid in marching on Erebor. And right atop a flat smooth boulder all of them had left their regal adornments, crowns, circlets, necklaces and rings to mark their statuses piled on alongside their golden seal stampers to mark their postage and contracts legally to their titles. To yourself you smirked at a plan forming and softly urged your elk to stay in place after readying it to be ridden again. Right over to the boulder you bear crawled to creep up and like a raccoon take each piece with dainty fingers you put quietly into a sack you had to once hold some of the lembas you had been given you’d added to the other sack to make room and not crush your only secure food source.

And when the last piece was added you lowered down again as if you were never there. Back to the elk you crawled and then hurried to climb atop its back with hold of a rock you had pulled out of the earth on the way back. Hard and loud you threw it once barely to the edge of being visible as your silent elk sprang away instantly stirring a notion of alarm through the Dwarves soon bled to anger at the notice of their jewels gone.

Days you managed to stay two hours at least ahead of the amassing army ravens and hawks had been sent to warn for from Southern Dwarf Kingdoms even alarming the Men of Rohan who sent a legion of Riders to join along in chasing the unthinkable thief.

Right through the final night with the peak in sight your elk gladly kept the pace in this game of evasion as a storm had gained you a spare few hours of rest as the Dwarves were diverted around a flooding river it bounded and trudged through easily.

Halfway across the plain to the peak you halted its path at the sound of a loud roar that only meant the Dragon had been woken. Over the front of the saddle your leg swung so you could jump off and dig out a chunk of black metal used for dragon weaponry, the only metal able to pierce the scales of the beast.

The gates were thrown wide open and with the chunk in hand off a chain around your neck you eased a large Dwarf Ring of Power you had found after falling off the cliff the white orc wore like a trophy and slid it on your finger using the chain to help fill the gap between metal and skin. The main power of the thing was a pathway to the only way to drive the Dwarves to possible ruin, the ability to multiply anything they mined and you had pulled this metal right from the earth yourself so it counted at least to you on the vague interpretation of the rule. And just like you hoped a firm grip of the metal had it glowing and fire out both ends to form a giant spear the unknowing beast ran itself through unable to stop in time at the sudden jolt at his breast. Down into the earth he collapsed as you let go of the metal and scrambled to get a foot on the elk’s stirrup and urge it to spring away, as it planned on its own to do. Up above your view of the jostling saddle you drug yourself to be seated upon again was a huddle of bodies that came to stare at the now downed dragon and the nameless too blurry figure atop a steed now turning widely their way.

It didn’t take long for your name to be shouted in both relief and shock, but in the light of the fiery gold lit open doorway they could see the Elven garb and source of your survival. “Hey,” you said dropping off the saddle again to be drawn into eager hugs while the elk came to curiously inspect the hall to see if food was in sight.

“Lothlorien,” Thorin said breathlessly in awe of your survival of nightmarish disaster beyond his worst imaginings. “How did you down the beast?”

And you showed him the ring dangling from the chain wrapped around your palm and wrist loosely. “Azog had this. Multiplies what you mine, found black metal, made a giant spear.” And he let out a proud chuckle then looked to the sack you offered him. “We’re gonna have some angry Company in a few hours.”

His brow rose and you took hold of the reigns of the elk to go and find the farming peaks to let it rest and eat there Balin had once mentioned for their goat and boar steeds. “Y/n?! Where did you get these?!” He demanded to your back after he’d drawn out a familiar seal for the King of Orcarni he kept hold of to show you and the others in your turn to glance back at him still walking away.

“You know there’s a giant hot spring near Orcarni?”

“Yes..” he growled.

“Well there were some familiar names caught and good news, got you your armies. I’m gonna tuck them into the farming peak and then find the dungeon to lock myself in.”

“Y/n!! You-!!” At a loss for words at the sound of a distant Dwarf horn alerting of armed forces ready to advance after the last roar and thunderous crash he lowered his voice and told the others, “Seal the gates, we tell them we captured the thief and we will work out something less severe as a punishment later after a term of stay in our dungeons. Balin, mind her, before she marches another army on our gates please.” The exasperated glance he gave your back had his cousin chuckle and oblige, hurrying after you to congratulate you on the miraculous return and plan to help kill the beast. “And Bilbo, get searching for that stone.” Bilbo nodded and hurried to do that to the motion of the others to force the gates shut and locked again so they could wait atop the overlook in wait for the thousands of Dwarves to arrive and demand answers.

.

A second horn of a fouler tone however found you called for and amidst the ranks of Dwarves and Men standing above Dain now on his back from a warg bite with a chunk of his armor bent into the flesh of his thigh. Oin worked to stem the bleeding to get him able to be moved while you used a stack of dead orc and wargs to funnel the oncoming orc into a more manageable number for full view of the King who had mind to stab you himself when he’d first seen you. All the same on the front against the orc and goblin forces your bright eyed glowing petite thief of a self stood on their side and he would not cut you down unjustly mid battle and could wait for retribution later and now lay at your mercy.

Over the wall of orc a goblin scrambled and collapsed taking hold of your bloody dirt stained braid tugging you backwards in its fall. Belly up for the double handed grip of an orc who smugly grinned at being able to plunge his blade into your exposed chest.

Far off in the distance the sight of an Eldar Elf born and glowing with the light of the Two Trees even in that area plunged with darkness through grime and filth could not be missed by any of the Silvan forces who lined the edge of the forest in case of advance on their borders. All called to arms just same as the Dwarves at the roar of the fallen beast.

The King himself however was the one to break the hold to fire and let loose three arrows to clear the goblin who had hold of the lone Elf and two orc advancing upon them. Lothlorien garb explained little of why they were there aside from possibly having been amongst the Rohirrim and got stuck here after travel from some important message being sent to King Thengel. Then alone at sight of your spring to your feet ready for the next orc to advance was reason of the call to charge. Straight through the darker forces his thousands of soldiers sprung to make clean work of the orc and goblins Dwarves had split into smaller numbers as you had done.

The King himself off his elk dropped helping Dain and Oin up to have the steed charge towards the healing tents made up inside the guarded peak. Blades in hand to assist in this swarm of hundreds the Men of Rohan burst to aid with after clearing their own hundreds, an odd left over pool you had gotten edged to funnel off alone to just keep at bay until others could come and help as Dain had tried while his men behind him got thwarted by a band of wargs they were using to hold off as a wall more orcs trying to come at the back of their Longbeard kin who sprung from Erebor itself.

Hard into his back the Elf King turned his head, having just used both blades to kill five orc nearest him to scowl in focus at your smaller self pinned to his taller frame. Blades locked with a mace of a crooked leaning goblin that had found the obscure nail adorned weapon after losing its own. Easily he swung his arm to sever the head of the goblin and had to restrain his amused smirk at the huff you gave when the force and weight against your blades dropped to the collapse of its body and weapon.

A hand to his side with a hard shove an hour later again had him look to the smaller body trying to stagger away from a collapsing tower in Dale that would have fallen on top of him. Wide eyed in the moments of clarity before heavy stone obscured his view he saw a panicked expression on your face at the loss of crumbling ground to stand upon that had you fall mid squeak as words seemed to fail you. Loudly it fell apart into a giant heap and through the dust he clambered to get over the rubble to find you just ten feet down plopping off your side onto your back.

Just a halo of the body of the King seen through the cloud of dust in view and you squeaked, “Ow,” forcing a breath of relief from his lungs that you were not likely to have been badly injured. Down into the crevice you had found he hopped with other Elves to come into view watching his ease to your side. “Have you landed on anything?”

“Just my ribs it seems.” You frailly replied and out he reached to test a touch of your legs to prop those up in a first step so he could scoop you up.

“Better your ribs than a blade.” He replied.

“Nope, got that too,” you whined in a shift of your hand to draw attention to the hilt of your blade that caught in your outer coat there fraying the side of your gifted Elven embroidered pants at the thigh.

“Clever,” he said collecting the blade he tucked into the sash around his waist so he could ease his arms underneath you. “Now,” he said on his knees having drawn you off the ground and into his chest, “Out of this rubble, Healers await.”

“How do I know you?” You squeaked next when he’d leapt up out of the crevice, to be walked in a heavy number of guards to escort you to a safer place to be seen to.

“My name is unimportant at the moment.” He replied, “Conserve your energy, damage to the ribs will take time to mend properly. Once you are safely placed into a guest quarters in Greater Greenwood I shall write to Lord Celeborn of your safety.”

“No, but my elk is in Erebor.”

“My soldiers will bring your steed as well.” He said and looked down as you narrowed your eyes at him and tilted your head.

“No, I know you from somewhere.”

“I am certain it will come to you in time.” He replied and looked forward again.

Right to an Elven tent amongst the Dwarf stations he brought you to first ensure no serious injuries were unseen before you were transported to the forest.

Though from the moment he’d passed beneath the cover of the tent his instant panic for your slip into unconsciousness was soon overtaken by argument of the Company who refused to allow you to be taken to the forest as you were a member of their Company and had slain Smaug, the direct source of a small tail spike that was found buried in your clothing to be just harmful enough to let out a steady stream of blood from your lower leg to fill your boot.

.

Deeply you inhaled, waking inside a lavish apartment in the Royal Floors of the mountain under watch of an Elleth who seemed pleased you had awoken.

Sheepishly in her slip out of the room you eased off the bed to limp to the robe left on the chair along the wall to cover the silk nightgown you had on with more painted silk you tied around your waist. Free hand on your throbbing ribs as you did this. Silence hinting you were alone had you sneak out of the bedroom and find the front door, that when opened revealed a line of armed Dwarf guards and Dain inside an armchair positioned directly there, complete with footrest his injured led rested upon so he could be here when you awoke.

“You, dragon slayer.” Deep and grumbling he let out a reluctant breath and said, “Had you not saved my life and I owe you a life debt, I would have you thrown from my kin’s lands. For now, I thank you for fealty in battle,” his finger raised to point at you, “But you touch another relic of claim to rule of my kin again and I will see to it you have no hands left to steal so much as a crumb to nibble upon.”

For a moment your lips parted and then closed causing his brow to rise, “Have you lost your voice in battle, Lass?”

“Mr Dwarf,” you squeaked out causing his brow to lift a bit higher, “Honestly I got lost trying to meet Thorin after our separation. And I happened upon you all, all the Dwarf Lords Thorin had named who refused to help him reclaim his home.” At that he scoffed and you said, “Thorin needed help, Azog was alive still until I beheaded him in the fall from a cliff, and I had no clue who would be upon him next when I found him. Turned out to be a dragon. I would say I am sorry for my actions however you must admit it was a clever plot. Classic, honestly, always worked on Finwe.”

Together his brows furrowed through a huff and he growled out, “Aye, it was. Naught but my beard adornments and a wee glowing thing races off with my rites to my crown.”

“I’m certain in a few years it will be a humerous leg to the tale of how Erebor was reclaimed gold over many ales.” Softly you groaned to the plant of your hand on the frame of the door and he gestured a hand to go with a Khuzdul order, and one of the guards came to help take hold of your slouching self.

“Back to bed now, before the Elf King hears of your tired self collapsing. Went and had to save his life too, now the pointy eared princeling is bartering with Thorin for his gems and release of your sticky fingered self to his halls for a stay. No telling what you pinched from him.”

.

“You are not in bed,” The Elf King spoke aloud having caught you in a late night sneak down to check on your elk. Whose face you were stroking while it nibbled on the carrots you brought down here to the stables where you’d left them that now housed more steeds from each army.

“The last Elf King I met was Gil-Galad. You do not look like Gil-Galad.”

“I am pleased,” he joked, “We did not see eye to eye on many things.”

“I would not doubt that very much, he was taller than you, but I know you.” You said and he looked at you still grinning post chuckle at your height comment.

“We crossed paths in Valinor, when I was very young. And very short, shorter than you I would dare to say.”

“Now that must have been a very long time ago then.” You said and he chuckled again.

“Barely a moment to me.” He said and you looked his face over, “I shall assist you, the last time we spoke, prior to my collecting you from that crevice, you were collecting me from a tangled net within which I fell in an act of thievery inside your orchard.”

“And they call me the thief.” You teased and he chuckled again.

“I had never tasted such a pear in all of my life.”

“As the one you stole,” you added and he nodded amused.

“As the one I stole.”

“I would hope not, I created them myself.”

He nodded and said hopefully, “We have much room in my kingdom should the two of us make terms for me to acquire a tree for within our borders.”

“I would have you know I never abandon my orchards.”

“I had hoped as much,” he hummed hopefully causing you to draw in a breath at his lingering gaze locked upon your eyes.

@jesevans, @theincaprincess, @lilith15000, @devilishminx328

#Thorin #thorin's company #durins #bilbo #Dain ironfoot #Dwarves #Dwarf Ring of Power #Lothlorien #Thranduil #Thranduil x reader #elf reader #the hobbit #lotr

[darkhearthorns]

Yuletide Gifts || Maverick x Alex @xseen2muchx

Maverick's eyes sparkle with anticipation and adoration as he extends his hand towards Alex. In his outstretched palm, lie the enchanting treasures he has carefully chosen. He presents them with a tender smile, fully aware of the significance they hold.

Nestled in Maverick's palm is a delicate necklace, its silver chain glistening like moonbeams, supporting a pendant in the shape of a crescent moon. The pendant is adorned with a mesmerizing moonstone, radiating a soft, ethereal glow akin to the moon's luminosity. "This necklace," Maverick murmurs, his voice filled with affection, "holds the eternal moonlight, a symbol of our enduring love. When you wear it, my dear Alex, it shall illuminate your path and remind you of the otherworldly connection we share."

Alongside the necklace, Maverick presents a ring, its band intricately woven with precious metals, forming intricate patterns of vines. Resting at the center is a vibrant gemstone— a color swirling between emerald and sapphire—brimming with ever-shifting hues. "This ring," Maverick explains, his voice filled with warmth, "is the Ring of Protean Harmony. As you wear it, you shall be surrounded by a protective aura, fostering balance and serenity within you. It shall shield you from harm and keep our hearts in harmonious union."

Maverick's gaze then falls upon a dainty bracelet, its silver links adorned with opalescent gemstones that shimmer like a twilight sky. He gently clasps it around Alex's wrist, whispering softly, "this Bracelet of Veiled Illusions carries the enchantment of mystery. When you wear it, it shall enhance your natural allure and bestow upon you a touch of fae magic. You shall captivate others with your grace and charm, a testament to the captivating connection we share."

Lastly, Maverick places a delicate tiara upon Alex's head, crafted with silvery white gold, adorned with crystal dewdrops that sparkle in the light. "This Tiara of Whispers," Maverick murmurs, his voice filled with reverence, "shall grant you heightened intuition and sensitivity to the magical realm. The gentle hum of its enchantments will guide you correctly, connecting you to the whispers of the fae lacking trickery. With it, you shall navigate the realms with grace and wisdom befitting a Queen."

As Maverick gifts each piece of enchanted jewelry to Alex, they become more than mere accessories—they become tokens of their impending courtship, imbued with the magic and essence of their connection. He was aware she didn't show much interest in jewels before but... she better get used to them now.

#threads; maverick/alex #xseen2muchx

[seancamerons]

i wanna make mbs for my fics lol like locations like i have this whole vision of how i think these places look like. ask me about any of these places i make up and have fun with what i have in mind. :)

lana's or known as lana's restaraunt a fancy pink designer boutique parisian provincial vibes and aesthetics, like it looks like a dupe versailles, with columns, statuettes and more. white gold pink as the main color palette the details are what is its major draw. the overall vibe is elegant and classic styles, it would totally have a beautiful logo of gold and baby pink with white accident - dainty looking with a lovely louise fili design aesthetic vibe designwise). the prices are high and is featured in backtrack.

another one is, the ravine itself. although its a canon location and has been featured through the years that could be fun. so scandalous and how good it feels to be bad, conveying that through imagery. i imagine the grounds by the firepits filled with charred logs. the van smelling like weed and gasoline in the summer heat, mosquitos and flies from open containers of food along with the skunky musks of the weed, the smell of cheap keystone light and other cheap beers for the underage who bribe some poor young adults into purchasing some alcohol for them, sometimes they're wanting to relive their glory days have an anon drinking party with guys with random girls, who knows. what a mess, it'd be a gritty vibe for sure. seedy and somewhat morally deviant, but also an entertaining party spot, very 2000s and 2010s flashbacks there.

its so intriguing though and an ambitious project the ravine is to incorporate in my writing. the ravine is featured a lot in faking it but mostly in together forever.

antonio's is another in-universe spot. where jimmy in season 1's coming of age briefly mentioned ordering some pizza for himself after his bday plans with ashley faded out.

it's where sean and emma get their double cheese pizza pies. i assume that's what it meant, they likely went there it's doubtful they didn't go to a chain. the vibe is strictly homemade, hometown mom-and-pop, also like a traditional parlor maybe even dated paneling like stained a chesnut with the checkerboard tables but still nice just retro. for instance another decor like those weird tiffany 80s looking chandeliers for lighting, like its giving pizza hut in the 1990s just family-owned.

i imagine jimmy was a frequent delivery or carryout customer. i could see young spin and jimmy pre-dot circa season 1 or 2, heading over to a pizza place after heading to novak's or the other drug and convenience stores passing the time on the main stretch of streets by school in town. i imagine the reason why the community school was named because the street they hang on is degrassi street, hence that is the idea i get.

wasaga beach, yet another location that i tend to love using in my writing. while in other teen dramas there were lots of locations in and out of town that were intriguing. in s4's back in black we finally see wasaga beach. I'm less sure if its real but i looked it up and it was once and it was sean's hometown. it comes up casually or not so casually in my fics that typically discuss sean or concern or center on sean or sean in relationships such as with ellie and emma, less may ut she conditionally comes up since he dated amy after emma and so on. okay, but i make it seem like an area close to me. hear me me out.

so in most of my fics he's either back recently from wasaga or back from the military after his stint in wasaga and or while he was staying there and leading up to his return, or lastly it's set before departure where wasaga is in the past and not considered, he wasn't ready to go back yet.

anyway, wildwood nj is my favorite place to be and it's reminiscent of a place that is DEAD outside of summer. it's a city by the beach there's a north wildwood and a south.

most people know about atlantic city with the casinos and beaches, an older boardwalk than all of them, and Ocean city course families frequent typically anyway because it's a dry town at Ocean City (not to be confused with ocean city, maryland but there's good and bad on both parts. oh and there's a famous boardwalk, both AC and Ocean City have famous boardwalks, but Wildwood is my favorite it's like 2 miles long and a lot of fun. Something for everybody. lots of funnel cakes on the pier, looking like the sometimes video by britney spears from 1999 but perpetually fun and whimsical, like a big carnival, my dream date.

in faking it it's pretty prominently featured and referenced.

#art #degrassi #writing #writing tag #semma #sean cameron #emma nelson #emjay #jay hogart #jemma #moodboards #moods #mbs #fanfiction #fic #degrassific #ficedit #aesthetic #aes

[nvrcmplt]

empty balcony while a party goes on inside. // lark & raph

The music was fair and dainty through the glass windows and curtains that covered the open doors, but it was dull enough to allow one's ears to relax without thousands of voices mingling in conversation and praise for the evening's splendours and shares of food, business deals and connections for those new and invited. The wedding was a wonderful thing, with every piece of ivory and gold dripped over Lark's beauty, enhanced by their very own traditions, be it shifting skin tones like marble or their eyes twisting into emerald replicas of his own to show his devotion. The night would be nothing Raphael would ever-ever forget. To be granted such a beauty in his time as Lord of this Kingdom - but it was one of the many policies he couldn't deny out of goodwill. It was to secure the boarders, to show his people that times of peace were to remain, and a long family would take on the lineage of Lordship here…

Still, Raphael regretted it naught, after all, his Husband now, breathed with agreement to the arrangement. A little off, one could say, within reason for such things, but it was the times. These lands thrived with things the outside world didn't understand much… Still, they were one of the many oddities from Aarphine after all. Not just his people came here, but his entire island - taken from their world and transported here. In the middle of the pacific seas of 'Earth'. His lands no longer fought harsh endless winters of ash and dragon filled skies - but a peaceful heat that blared away their cold jaded hearts… Of course, as welcoming as the Earth was in her reach for them, the humans took many years to get used to the idea of a new religious faction, more species, more oddities in the world, but it took its place.

Blinking his thoughts aside, however, when he felt the presence of his true companion, the War Orc turned with ease to greet their wedded. Staring upon their beauty through ivory and red curtains, and smiling with intense adoration. "My love." A mitt, large and clothed in black gloves, stark against his red evening wear and black vest. Covered in gold chains and more, but his finger covered in their shared ring of eternal promise. "You tire?" He understood the feeling, easing to guide his love towards the seating arrangements outside so that he could set Lark into place. Moving to with ease, kneel before them and take a foot into palms to release from shoe and rub the ache away as lips press to their knee.

"If you need to take your leave early, Love - you are allowed it. This ball is taking a long time to quieten." He chuckled, tired himself with the amount of faces and congratulations he had to get through from those far and wide. His Husband needn't force himself to mingle any more, should he be tired now. They had many years ahead of them to invite those outside within to learn of new boundaries and policies on top of business proposals. "Shall we escape together, love? This balcony is barely troublesome." He jested though, at heart, it was very much a thing he'll do if agreed upon.

#bonesofchaos #« ( Raphael ) �� Answers. #» | × | Raphael&Lark || You See It In My Dreams Treasuring That Is What You Are ||

[phantombs]

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒.

What does your muse smell like? At any given moment, Cường smells very thickly of deep earth and all things green that grow. He wears a cologne of dried sage, of freshly blossomed roses, bottled up heather, and cardamom bulbs. Yet, underlying these stronger scents, too, there's something sweeter and paler, something summery like sea salt and just peeled tangerines. Laundry, maybe. Hand washed cotton sheets.

What do your muse’s hands feel like? Secure. Warm. Comforting. Cường is a little slight in his body, sure, but his hands run a bit on the larger and firmer, even oddly stronger side comparatively. He's a hard worker and a to-the-bone toiler, so besides swaddling and comforting, his palms have callouses from hours on the pestle and pruning roses, too. They're honest and just a little too rough, admittedly, but somehow, someway, that adds to the comfort those healing hands bring.

What does your muse usually eat in a day? Rice, fish, and pickled vegetables mostly. For dessert? Fresh peeled fruit. He loves baking just as much as he loves cooking, however, and sometimes, as a rare treat, he'll enjoy his choice of dessert puddings, Vietnamese chè, or almond cookies.

Does your muse have a good singing voice? He isn't exactly terrible, but he is off-key and is more a I'm-humming-when-I'm-alone-and–idle guy.

Does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks? Cường, for all his making medicines and tending to other people, has the world's most laughable sense of self preservation. It isn't that he seeks pain or any excuse to harm himself, but when pain comes upon him, or fights, arguments, and blistering, misdirected anger either verbal or physical, he doesn't care. A man can wallop him within an inch of his life for his frightening death-ramblings, and he'll let them have their fill until he's knocked out pulp.

What does your muse usually look like / wear? Natural, a little sleep rumpled, and always in dark (though mostly black) shorts that runs both boxy and slouchy. His only personal effect is his dainty gold chain ordained with a jade cut pendant. In all, the whole package makes him lowkey and relaxed.

Is your muse affectionate? How much? How so? Very. He isn't doting in the saccharine big smiles and batting lashes way, though. He's very casual and abundantly serene, but he says the sweetest things sometimes, the most uplifting things, too, and that's often paired with lingering touches, eyes both patient and steady, and someone's hair swept behind their ear.

What position does your muse sleep in? On his side, slightly folded. He sleeps like a rock, too, quiet, not a flinch of his willowy limbs, and that's in spite of his hair-raising nightmares.

Could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room? Sure. Cường's quiet, but he's alive, and you can hear it in the ambiance — the shuffle of his bare feet or the way he reads something back to himself sometimes in that deep, sleepy drawl, or him taking a kettle off the stovetop and the pop of his shoulders when he stretches and yawns.

Tagged by: @serpentongue (ty!) / Tagging: @indeath @goldfanged @ebonyforged @aworidwithout @mamoriitai @the27percent @tenderpulsive @gcldbrew @lykaiia

#( headcanon & meta. )