#i don't know where else to look without getting ahead of myself

[chronically-ghosted]

vivarium

rating: explicit 18+ pairing: ezra x f!reader word count: 8K summary: you request a vacation for your birthday. With the rain and a few drinks, you get a lot more than you asked for.  warnings: alcohol drinking, minor age gap (less than 10 years), oral (f!receiving), fingering, smut, possessive!Ezra, dom!Ezra, one booty smack, dirty talk for real, smut, pining, a bit of angst, referenced/implied orphanhood, made a religious sex pun and i'm so proud of myself a/n: so @morallyinept requested this and it turns out when I write for a boy for the first time, it can’t be less than 7K – whoops. i've gotten ezra requests from some moots before, so i hope this lives up to your expectations! **massive thanks to @toomanytookas for editing and providing the initial validation so i don't post in a mouth-frothy haze. I've never had a beta like you before and I genuinely feel like I've turned over a new chapter in my fic writing. thank you!

🤍Masterlist 🤍 Ezra Masterlist 🤍 AO3 Link

💜come see what else we've done to celebrate 1K followers

Your feet in the clear blue water, the humidity like a wet tongue on your skin, you scratch a nail under the tab of a mustard yellow can, crack it open, and drink. The bite of alcohol dulled by the carbonation, you take several pulls, drawing out the mid-afternoon buzz from two other cans and whetting your mouth in the heat of the jungle day. You lean back on your elbows into the sponge-soft grass, and let out a massive sigh. 

A few feet ahead of you, on a repurposed inflatable reentry tube, your long-time privateer partner chuckles, the sound deep in the back of his throat as he floats by. Thick fingers and exposed heels dragging along in the crystal water, he greets the yellow sun like an old friend – arms wide, chest out, a lazy smile on his face. A damp rag – supposedly clean – sits over what you know to be dark-earth eyes, every other inch of him relishing in the inevitable sun tan. 

“I see your aaahhh, pet, and I raise you a mhmm.” The rubber squeaks as he adjusts, tips his scarred chin up to the cloudless sky and rests his head back. “Kevva said there’d be days like this, but I think the old hag mighta left out a thing or two.” 

You grin, the wet heat of Banu 8’s lowlands drawing sweat droplets onto your hairline at the back of your neck, settling thick behind your ears where it co-mingles with the drunk haze loping around in your brain. You watch Ezra with his bare arms, hairy legs, and prominent nose turned towards the divinity he’s so fond of invoking and the thought crosses your mind – again:

Shit, he’s so fucking hot. 

Oh, bad thought.

You drop your gaze, pressing the cold aluminum lip of the can to your mouth, drinking quicker than you probably should, anything to distract you from your partner as he obliviously floats by. 

For our sake, you silently beg the hungry little creature that whines and snaps at the image of a shirtless Ezra, please fuck off. 

While Ezra whistles a vaguely familiar tune, terribly off-key, you scoop up the cool lagoon water and dribble it over your hot knees, then your thighs, dampening the rims of your make-shift shorts just enough to cool them without leaving them vulnerable to a permanent state of moisture due to the high humidity. You flick the last drops of the water onto your chest, your white cotton bra choked to your skin. A final effect, you press the cool can to the thrumming pulse on your neck, closing your eyes with a relieved grunt, taking the time to enjoy the sensation of the cold metal against the rapid beat in your throat. 

From the water, you hear an unsettled grunt and you open your eyes to find that same shirtless Ezra staring at you, the rag now curled in one hand against the rubber float. He swallows, looks at something past your ear, and again tries to adjust in the sticky rubber float without flipping himself over, his hands falling into his lap. 

“Neptune, dear, would you do us the favor of tossing over one of those cans? I’m parched. I think my lovely skin is drying out.”

Neptune. His favorite nickname for you. You never got any real explanation from him as to why you got that name, other than after you’d officially joined his crew, you told him you came from a blue planet in a far off system. But that was often the way of things: Ezra did something and you didn’t question why. From that simple truth, you learned about how to repair and rebuild the entire electrical system from a drop pod. You learned, in excruciating detail, the parts and mechanics of a thrower, so much so that you could almost identify the model number at a glance. You learned about which corporate dig sites to avoid, which made for easy marks, and which would draw the eye and ire of entities hardly worth the trouble. 

Being out on your own since you aged up out of the orphanage had not gone the way you hoped and life had not been so kind as to teach you any other way to survive. Ezra had found you in the back of a red spice market, cornered and slurping down the last few of your credits from a muck bowl that you had vastly overpaid for.

For whatever reason, he offered you a job on the spot, despite you having nothing to offer him. and no experience in anything except cleaning prophylaxiams and staying out of the way.

And yet, he has been far kinder than life, or anyone else, had ever been to you. 

As a result, loyalty was only a fraction of what you felt for him. What had begun as overwhelming adoration had grown hot to the touch, slippery between your fingers at night, and perhaps – what you feared most of all – obvious. 

Yet when Ezra looked at you with a smile on his face, it was only comradery he wished to share with you, certainly not his bed. He shared it with practically every other bi-pedal humanoid you came across, but not you. And this you had to accept. And you did. 

But being a little drunk made it that much harder to remember where to keep your hands to avoid being burned.

“Sure, Ez.” You tuck your legs out from the cool water and dig around in the canvas bag at the base of the white nut tree. Most of the ice had melted into the bright green grass around the lagoon, but a few of the cans were still cold. You’d probably tease Ezra later for skimping on the insulation bucket the provisions store the port offered, but he had been so eager to get to the camp ground after spending an “exceedingly exorbitant amount of time stacked up against human drivel on public transportation”. One lopsided grin, and you’d give him the world. 

“Ez–,”

He lifts the rag, glancing at you over his shoulder, hands cupped as the can flies through the air. The cold metal presses against the overheated skin on his chest and he hisses. Eyeing the can ruefully, he cracks it open and drinks deep. You busy yourself with sliding to the edge of the pool again to keep from watching his throat move. 

Ezra finally pulls back, smacking his lips, with a pleased groan. He wets the rag again and dramatically flops it over his eyes. Hidden from his view, you watch the roll of water down his temples, his neck, his chest. 

“Name anything better than this, Neptune, I beg you. Free from obligation or assignment on commission. Where my only moral imperative is to drink as many of these as I can and remind you how beautiful you are. Which . . .” he tilts the bottom of the can towards you, head still tilted back on the raft and dripping rag covering his vision, “fantastic, by the way.” 

Having stifled your blush while under his watchful gaze about three or four other times today, without him looking, you flush so hard and fast you go lightheaded. Beautiful, he said. You drink more carbonated alcohol to choke back your rising heart, your eyes skim over the curve of his nose, a drop of sweat as it peaks on his forehead. You can’t linger over him too long; he has a six-sense about you – unable to know what you’re thinking but that you’re overthinking all the same. 

“Was this worth the trip on public transportation, Ez?” Your ankles stir the water again. 

“I could do this all day,” he sighs contently, bringing a warm smile to your face. “And definitely all night.”

Maybe you’ll both be so sun-drunk later tonight, you’ll fall asleep together on the pallet on the floor. Of course, by nightfall, someone will have to come to their senses and you’ll be tucked back into your separate sleeping bags, but maybe, as a present you couldn’t possibly ask for, you can just nap together.

With the bottom plush of your lip stuck between your teeth, you rim the metallic edge of your can with your nail, ankles spinning slow circles in the water. 

“Thank you, Ezra,” you say quietly, “for the best birthday I’ve ever had.” 

It began as a sort of joke one night on the volcanic hotspring moon of Wulkan after a twelve hour shift hunting through the black ash in search of fire pearls. The job was rather rushed, and Ezra had his reservations going into it, but fire pearls were a near certainty and you both needed a boost after a jump exchange had gone a little cockeyed. Sweat dripping from his temples, the provided water packs in the harvest suits doing just enough to keep him from passing out from heat exhaustion, he extended the skein of hydro-electric towards you across the narrow lane between your cots and asked you if you could be anywhere right now, any system, where would you be.

“Somewhere so cold I freeze my tits clean off,” you said with a sigh and wiped your own sweat-drenched forehead. You could smell yourself after two days of sweating profusely, but your stench in comparison to the rest of the crew, including Ezra, barely registered any more. You took a sip as Ezra laughed.

“A grievous crime against humanity and all its luscious gifts, but I get your meaning. Anywhere else?”

“Water.” This was said with more conviction, so much so it turned Ezra’s head towards you. “The few memories I have of my home planet and my parents, we were always near or in water. An ocean, maybe. I’m not sure. But I remember being really, really happy and I think being near water . . . it would make me happy again.”

You handed the skein back to Ezra, something unreadable in his gaze. He took it back from you, his fingers dark from the ash that clings to everything. On the other side of the tent, the rest of your crew and other teams mill about, yelling, with cutlery clattering as the camp gets ready to slow for the night, a graveyard shift picking up in just a few hours. 

Ezra’s eyes are as dark as the ash you’ve been shifting through the past two days.

“Then you shall have it, Neptune.” He said, quietly. “I’d give you the fucking galaxy if I could.” 

Those words often came to you in the crevice between sleep and wakefulness, when your mind was idle and the reins that tightly bound your affection for him loosened without a conscious grip. When you thought you weren’t being watched. 

The flat of his foot hooking behind your ankle breaks you from your reverie. Cast into shadow by the wide, rubbery palm leaves above your head, he looks at you curiously. 

“That look of deep consternation is giving me a headache. Spill.” 

With a faint smile, you gently bump his knee with your own. “Nothing, Ez. I’m just glad we get to take a break from it all. I can’t remember the last time I . . . the last time we’ve just had nothing to do.” 

He cocks his head as his gaze crawls up your ankle, your shin, to your knee. You think it might linger on your thigh before it bounces to your face. You tighten your grip on the hot, expansive feeling behind your ribs and stare back at him.

“Then that’s a black mark against me, as the leader of this clan.” His mouth curls, eyebrow arching as he talks, knowing that statement has been a point of playful contention between you two for years. “A good overseer knows when to crack the bullwhip and when to let it rest.”

“Well, a better overseer knows when to demand that her team rests, because sometimes they have no idea what’s good for them.” 

His foot rotates behind your ankle, his toes brushing against your calf, bringing your attention to your own body part in the water. Your legs are hairy, nearly as much as Ezra’s, and you haven’t shaved your pits in possibly a decade. Ezra once brought home a professional nightwalker, one from the Upper City, to the derelict flat you’d been sharing for two weeks as you offloaded your haul to the under markets. You never forgot how smooth her skin had been, shaved clean and smelling of moon lilies. That scent permeated the small space for weeks afterward. Even now, just the sight of moon lilies makes you nauseous. 

His aversion to you runs much deeper than physical aesthetics, even if you can’t help but wonder sometimes if becoming as smooth and hairless as the nightwalker might change his mind.

“Observational to a fault as always, Neptune.” The ball of his foot rests briefly between your legs before he pushes off from the spongy lip of the lagoon’s edge. He floats back into the sun, his head shaking slightly, a smile drained of amusement on his lips. He inhales as the sun crests over his forehead and he glances up at the blue sky. “I have no idea what’s good for me.”

Something about his tone, the way he turns away from you, scratches a very raw place inside of you – a place that fears and obsesses over abandonment. You wouldn’t survive it if he abandoned you, if he left you to fend for yourself one day. Logically, you know he would never do that – he has sworn up and down to your face that that notion is fundamentally ludicrous to him – but the anguish of him silently rejecting you from his bed again and again and again makes that fragile place inside you bleed red. 

You stand up, swipe another can from the bag, and move towards the waterfall. 

“I’m taking a hike.”

You feel his eyes on the backs of your thighs as you march towards the gentle incline.

“Be safe, Neptune,” he calls softly.

For a fleeting second, you wish he had made you stay.

The first fat raindrop splashes against your cheek and wakes you from a humid, irritated nap. You’re scowling by the time you open your eyes to several more wet droplets as they splatter against your neck, your forehead and you sit up, even more frustrated than when you fell asleep. The last sticky tendrils of dreams snap and pop as you pull yourself onto your feet, back hunched and arm held high against the steamy sprinkle. A crack of lightning, then a growl of thunder, and the sky splits open, drenching you in seconds. With a snarl of your own, you snatch up the empty can from the grass next to you and make for your camp down the hill. As you crest the top, you see a figure standing outside the tent, back tense and hand raised as if searching through the twilight gray downpour. 

Normally, the thought of warming up beside Ezra in your yellow tent fills you with something inexplicable, the grime and load of the day melting from your shoulders, but your buzz from earlier has thickened, made worse by the heat, the emotions in your heart all gummed up and smashed together. The sight of him cranks up your irritation high in your ears. With a huff, you concentrate on a smooth slide down the hill without breaking your ankles and not the fire rising in your gut. 

But the rain and the distance apart has only stoked his own outrage.

“Where the hell were you?” He snaps as you yank back the velcroed tent flap. He is dripping from head to toe in jungle rain as he follows closely behind you into your small space. You ring the water from your hair into a corner and scowl up at him. 

“I fell asleep. The rain woke me up. I came back as soon as I could.” 

His eyes narrow, water rolling off his bare shoulders as if he still stood out in the downpour. The droplets pat pat pat against the tarp floor as he snatches up a fiber towel and dries himself off, scowling all the while. 

“I searched for you, calling your name up and down this fuckin’ jungle and I didn’t hear a peep. What if something had gone wrong? What if you’d been hurt?”

“Then I would have fucking dealt with it, Ezra.” You stomp to your feet, neck hot from his patronizing gaze. Hands on his hips, you feel like you’re being scolded. “I can take care of myself.” 

One dark eyebrow arches mockingly, the scar on his cheek twisting in his scowl.

“And you expect me to lay about, twiddling my thumbs, while I wait for you to return or until you deem it appropriate for me to fret over your corpse?” 

That patch of blonde hair is a shade darker, drenched and pressed flat against his forehead. His bare chest is littered with scars and divots where chunks of flesh had been torn away. His skin is a reflection of the hard life he lives. You doubt you’d look any different if you’d seen yourself in a mirror. 

“We are partners, Ez,” you grind out between locked teeth. “Equals, alright? I am not your little sister for you to fuss over and you are not my keeper.” 

At that, the indignant swell of his chest deflates and the anger in his eyes flickers before fading out. 

“You are beyond capture,” he mutters, eyebrows down but gaze distant. “I’d never dream of keeping you, Neptune.” 

Again, it’s his phrasing that hurts most of all. You glance away, the backs of your eyes growing hot and tight, drying out despite the sticky moisture warming the inside of the tent. But then his hand around your elbow startles away the tears forming in the corners of your eyes. 

“You are the most important thing to me in the entirety of this world and the next,” he says softly, earth eyes searching your face. “I came on too strong, I know that, but the idea that you’d ever be gone from my side for any amount of permanence . . . well, it’s been a lifetime since I’ve felt fear like that.” 

His frown goes belly-up, a hopeless smile on his face. “I wasn’t aware I even still could.” His calloused thumb brushes your skin, skin that nearly catches fire from the rough drag of scar tissue, before he lets his hand drop. Your own curls into a fist at your side, a tremor rattling the bones of your wrist in an effort to keep from reaching up and touching that moon-shaped scar you dream about at night.

“I’m not going anywhere, Ez. You taught me enough to survive in a world like this. But you’re going to have to trust me.”

That smile goes wan, sickly. “That’s the problem, dear heart, I trust you with my life.” 

He swallows, as if suddenly bashful to make direct eye contact with you. He clears his throat before rummaging around in his canvas bag for dry clothes. He yanks a black, sleeveless shirt on over his head before setting up the materials for a flameless pocket fire. 

“Since my dreams of showing you something called a barbeque have been quite literally rained out, we’ll finish off the rest of the dredge pack tonight. But come first light, I’ll fix you breakfast so succulent, the smell alone’ll make your mouth water. How does that sound, Neptune?”

He barely slows to breathe as he seamlessly switches topics from breakfast to another meal made at camp without looking up or stalling in his prep for dinner, hands almost disconnected from the humming of his mouth – one so methodical, the other like a channel rat on fire. 

“– and the thing was no one was really sure enough what a squatter egg looked like when it goes bad. But being out in a cramped hold-out for two weeks where it was so dark, your own ass and someone else’s had no demarcation, well, there wasn’t a single peep of dissimilitude . . .”

Words strung together so quick and so melodic, it was always incredibly easy to fall into a sort of easy trance around Ezra. Sounds and syllables just sounded right coming out of his mouth and after a while, that trance became a state of repose, Ezra’s own sense of calm filtered to whoever was also in the room. But not to you, not right now.

After spending immeasurable time with less than half a space between you in cramped tents and in claustrophobic dig sites, you could read the tension on the lines of his body as well as the lines on the palm of your hand. 

“Neptune? You with me?”

Ezra glances up at you, always aware of you and your movements like the twinge on a spider’s web, a signature smile that has always seemed to shine a bit brighter for you plastered over his face. The anger was the only thing holding you up and with it gone, you can feel your bruised heart twinge as it folds over itself. 

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’m gonna switch out of these wet clothes before we eat, okay?”

He hums, nodding, eyes fixating on the steadily boiling water in front of him as you turn away to the other side of the tent, by your pallet and traveler’s pack. As further evidence that he feels nothing but companionship for you, you feel his eyes remain nowhere near you as you strip off your shorts and bra for a sun-warm suit. Then again, you’d like to think it’s kind of scandalous to be changing in front of him, but you’d both seen each other naked more times than you could count – there is no modesty in foxholes. The space between your hips and your thighs feel sticky from sweat and the slick rain, the curve of your spine warm and flushed. The zipper is loud in the silence. 

You’re braiding your damp hair away from your face when he sighs and the noise makes you look back at him.

“Answer me honestly, if you’ve ever cared for me a tick. Do you regret it?”

His eyes are sorrowful, worried, brow fixed down. Ezra is not, and never has been, a man prone to melancholy. His wrists rest loosely over his knees, gaze deep in the bubbling bone broth. The rain outside taps insistently at the tarp. 

“Regret what?” 

“Coming with me and taking on this life. It’s not an easy one,” he says quietly. “I should have offered you another choice, that day in the market. But one look at you and I . . . I was willing to trust you with my life, Neptune – far, far too soon. Even at my best, you make me irrational.”

You watch him, his broad shoulders moving, as he scoops up the hot, dark liquid into two bowls, and joins you by the entrance to the tent. You pin back the flap as he settles, the scent of humid rain immediately flooding your mouth, the pattering sound now twice as loud. Wordlessly, he hands you a spoon before digging into his own bowl. 

The heat of the soup burns away all the silly, impossible things sitting on your tongue. You sit in silence, his presence never rushing you to answer before you are ready. As you eat, you stare out at the dark lagoon, where you had both been only hours ago, the clear water murky beneath the downpour. 

“No, Ezra, I don’t regret it.” He stills, as if surprised you’re answering him now, mid-meal. He lowers the bowl to his lap, eyes trained on you. “You saved my life, more times than I can count.” 

Your words loosen the rigid lock of his shoulders. He grins. “As you’ve said, you would have been just fine without me.”

Your vision goes blurry. You pin him with such a stare, you watch the blood rush from his face.

“But it would have been only half a life.”

“Don’t kid about that, Neptune, it’s not –,”

“I’m serious.” You put your bowl down and rub your eyes with your sleeves. Of all the ways he hasd seen you bare and naked, he’s never seen you this vulnerable. “I don’t wanna do any of this without you. I want you, Ezra.”

“You have me, dear heart, you have me.”

“Not like that and you know it.” You watch as understanding rolls across his face. His lips part, eyes wider. He swallows and you stare at the ceiling, cheeks suddenly wet and hot. He said he’d never leave you, but what if this is the thing that finally does it? Could he work with you, knowing just how deeply you love him, and not feel an ounce of disgust? “You told me once sex is just a way to pass the time, but never, not once, have you ever even tried to pass the time with me.” 

He swallows, deeper this time, jaw locked, his eyes fluttering with the force of it. He brings his knees to his chest.

“Because it wouldn’t just be passing time with you.” 

In that moment, you’re grateful for the rain, for the sound of something to fill the silence. 

You stare at him, cross-legged in front of the open corner of this yellow tent, abandoned bowls growing colder, but he sits with his leg up, knee to his chest, as if to ward you off. Ward off whatever is growing in your gaze, under the flat bone over your heart in your chest. But whatever is stifling the air in your lungs, is warming his eyes past the point of comfort, barrelling towards expletives and the crass, the lewd and depraved. You cannot go back to having him look at you any other way. 

That look loosens every line in his face when you crawl into his lap, your knees around his hips. The backs of your thighs go damp, even through the suit, pressing down onto his still-damp shorts, and you think his breathing has quickened.

His massive palm hovers near your cheek, unwilling or unable to pull you forward or push you back, his oak eyes searching your face for signs of discomfort as if he had somehow dragged you across the tarp floor. 

“Neptune,” he mumbles as he focuses on the curve of your bottom lip, “this is unwise. You don’t know what you’re asking for.” 

You can feel the hard curve of his shoulders as you follow the lines of his arms and settle them on his collarbone. Nothing has happened that can’t be undone – not yet. Your perfect, vicious Ezra hasn’t pressed you flat on your back like you thought he would at the hint of sex. You could return with your dignity tomorrow morning, this moment never spoken of again, and he’d let you have that. The shake of his elbow with his palm against the tarp is the only indication that something might be unsettling to him. 

But it is your birthday after all. Maybe he’d let you have this one thing. He doesn’t know you’ll die without it.

“If you don’t want this . . . if you don’t want m-me, then say something. Push me away and I’ll never bring it up again.” You cup the sides of his neck as your hips shift forward, closer to him. The air in your lungs tightens, breath coming in shallow pants. Only then does he drop your gaze and fixate on your encroaching heat. “At least then I’ll know.” 

There. Out loud. It’s been said, heard above the deluge of rain against the tent and the jungle outside. 

His palm finally settles on your cheek. It brings a sense of wholeness to you like you’ve never known. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, a breathy exhale pours out of your mouth. His thumb catches the plush curve of your bottom lip and he draws it towards your chin, his own mouth open, enraptured. 

“Sweet thing, how have you not always known?” 

His mouth is humid against yours, as if he swallowed the jungle while looking for you, his thumb releasing your lip to capture with his own. The tip of his pointer finger massages the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear, and he manipulates your head until your mouth parts like he wants.

His tongue skims your upper lip, a tentative exploration into the unknown rewarded with a low groan that is warmed by the heat coiling low in your hips. You taste his tongue, a hot glide inside your mouth, and you feel his arms slip around your lower back, his inhale of breath sharp across your face as he brings you closer. He bites your lips roughly, the spark of pain and pleasure crackling across your face as if you’d brushed a live wire. 

His fingers wrap around your wrist, prying you from the back of his neck, just for a moment, his eyes heat-soaked. You suck your teeth, mouth open and seeking, and the hand around your jaw drops to your collarbone, the breadth of his palm nearly suffocating your throat.

The briefest pressure – the slightest touch – at the pulse at the bottom of your neck and your hips rock forward into him as he flattens his other palm to your ass, clutching you to him and pinning you to the pallet.

His teeth scrape against the curve of your ear, pinching the cartilage between his incisors, while his hands frantically search up and down your waist. His weight smothers you, his stomach breathing into yours, the flat plane of his chest rubbing your nipples raw against your suit, an unfocused lurch to his hips every time you tug on his hair. With every breath, every time you try to savor his touch, the taste of his mouth is like a wave, dragging you forward, wrapping a dizzy chain around your throat and squeezing.

Ezra’s greatest weapon has always been his mouth, that silver string spinning faster the longer he captivates you, spell-bound. Now he uses to decimate you in entirely new ways. 

The suck of his lips against the moist flesh below your ear distantly distracts from the afterburn of his unkempt beard against your jaw, your cheek. His lips alternate patterns of reward with a plush kiss and punishment with a stern nip when you try and stifle a moan. The edge of his shirt is damp from resting against his shorts when you slip your fingers underneath to palm the small of his back. He stills when you run your fingers around to the front of his trunks. 

His hand curls around a clump of hair at the base of your skull, his eyes darker than volcanic ash. The steady heat of his groin against your thigh is a sensation you’ll chase for the rest of your life.

“You know what happens when you touch a man there, Neptune?” He’s breathing hard, you both are, and the way he snags your hair in his fist has your head twisted at an odd angle, but you’d be damned to a Kevva-forgotten corner of the cosmos before you drop his gaze. You nod and that moon-shaped scar on his cheek twitches. “I know I didn’t teach you that.”

“L-learned it – somewhere else – Ezra.” Your mouth isn’t working properly, your lips swollen from his kisses, the slight pain in your scalp making it difficult to focus, while your cunt tightens hungrily. “Had to.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you wouldn’t give it to me.” 

He leans back, his forearm tense and corded where he has you by the hair, a seemingly disinterested scowl on his face. But by the throbbing length pressed up against you, so far from where you need him the most, he is anything but. 

“So you’re saying this is my fault?” Without breaking eye contact, his chest raised inches above yours, his fingers snag on the blue zipper by your collar and your breathing nearly stops. He hums to himself, eyes following the path of the zipper as the material separates, click by click by click. When it reaches your belly button, he stops. 

“Ezra –,” it’s a whine and you can’t even chastise yourself for it. And neither, it seems, can he. 

Head tilted as if curious about the label of a box beneath colorful wrapping, he dips his wide hand beneath the edge of your suit. The heat that radiates from his palm against the curve of your stomach has you writhing underneath him, your knees drawing up to his hips, trying to catch any relief. 

But he takes his self-satisfied time. Callouses of a hard-won life snag and drag over the soft paper-thin skin that covers your ribs as he maps you in one hand. When he cups your right breast in his palm, the noise you make is a sob of gratitude. 

“You let another man besides me do this to you?” 

The snarling pit of your own thoughts slows as some awareness realizes he’s speaking to you. 

You swallow, clutching his bicep, begging for forgiveness before even opening your mouth to answer. 

“It didn’t mean anything, Ez, it wasn’t you – it meant nothing to me–,”

“But you let someone else touch what’s mine, hm?” That lazy, slightly irritated look on his face, he rotates his hand, squeezing the cup of your tit again, before sharply pinching your nipple. 

“Ezra–,” you choke out and his thigh shifts between your legs, just close enough to feel the heat but nowhere near close enough to grind against. His thumb rotates the raised flesh slow enough to capture and catalog every sigh it draws from you, his eyes catching between his hand and your relaxed face. 

He wears the same expression he does when sitting in the backs of blackmarket tea shops and smoky alebins. When the prospect of striking gold becomes all he can think about.

“Strip.” He suddenly commands. He lifts off you just enough for you to wrench your arm through the armhole, all the while keeping a rough palm on one breast, and then the other. You watch him massage your flesh and your ribs tremble with an unsteady breath. Only when a slightly cool breeze meanders over your bare shoulders and chest do you realize that the tent flap is still open, your head inches from the edge. A perfect and unimpeded view to anyone who wants to watch him hungrily grope your tits. Embarrassment peaks sharply, despite his hand pressing you into the tarp, you wrench your neck back and look over your shoulder through the window of the open tent as if you need to confirm that you are giving the jungle a floor show.

“Ez– shit, the flap–,” 

He finds that the skin beneath your breast had grown sticky and slick from sweat, the humidity still oppressive even with a breeze. He bends his head and licks that same sweaty path and your attention snaps back to him, nails curling against his scalp, his warm breath a high-intensity balm to your roughly-played-with nipples. 

“Not a soul in sight, Neptune,” he murmurs lazily into your ribcage, his nose running up and down the valley between your tits. “And if there were, let them learn a thing or two.” 

His teeth nip the swell of your stomach as he crawls down your half-naked body. Without his heat and hands, the tenderness from his attention on your breasts ratchets up to an ache, a minor preoccupation before he hooks his fingers around the rest of the jumpsuit and tugs. 

You are naked beneath him, swollen chest rising and falling, your knuckles scraping against the pallet as you search for something to grip with all your might. You smell of lagoon water and hot jungle air, of muggy photosynthesis and algae. The smoky scent of the black ash of that distant planet never really left Ezra and the dampness of the rain seems to stir it up. He towers over you, dark and breathing heavy. Smoke and brimstone.

He gropes your ankles, then your calves, hands gliding over the thick hair there – now grown soft in length – as he slowly spreads your legs, with a light you’d never seen before in his eyes. 

“Neptune, I revolve around you.” 

A wave of anxiety lurches up your throat when he brings his mouth to your cunt, the cloying, imagined scent of moon lilies threatening to tear you out of the moment – he won’t want you wild like this – but it’s forcefully yanked back down with a single stripe of his tongue. His previously casual, authoritative persona cracks when he buries his face into your unkempt curls and lets out a deep, overly pleased moan.

Your back bends and he’s gathering up your limbs in his arms to pin them down, nearly resting his forehead on your pubic bone. A few more licks, some deeper than others into where you drip for him, and your thighs start to shake. His fingers around your thighs squeeze roughly against your flesh and pull you further apart. 

Between the flush of slick seeping from you at an embarrassing rate and the wiry hair kept natural out of a certainty no one would see it, he must be drowning or choking, his tongue flicking and sliding, nose prodding your clit just enough to spread the sparks of arousal up through your spine. Feeling as though you’re losing your grip on reality, you sink your hands into his hair, thumb rubbing back that blonde patch, and tug. The moan he shoots into your cunt as he rocks forward into your touch has you whining helplessly. The tarp squeaks where he rubs his hips into it. 

His arms curled around your thighs, your hips shake with restraint against every lap of his tongue until he flicks your clit and your hips grind up against his obliging mouth, a sunspot of pleasure flaring brightly. But all too soon, Ezra lifts up onto his elbows, his hands smoothing across your stomach and he pops his mouth up from your wet folds. With an irate gasp, the swell of bliss fading, your gaze snaps down to plead with him, but he shakes his head.

Wordlessly, he takes one hand from your thigh and wipes his mouth clean with a swipe of his fingers. Then, with his eyes wide, the skin around his mouth loose, he crooks two fingers at the top of your mound before sliding them down where his mouth was seconds ago and presses them inside of you. That simmering in your low belly roars back to life and you toss your head against the unforgiving pallet, eyes slamming shut. He growls at the obscene sucking noise your cunt makes as he plucks at you, in and out. 

“Oleaginous,” he hums, so quietly, it might have been for him. He tongues your clit lightly, pushing his fingers as deep as they can go, watching you thrash. “Mine. Understand?” You remember that tone of voice from when he had you dissecting throwers on a workbench in front of him. You nod, eyes fluttering open, balancing on the precarious edge of release. 

You want to obey his every word. 

His thumb twists up, opening your clit to him and within a whispered breath of “good girl” he sucks your bundle of nerves and launches you into orbit. 

Your entire body goes stiff from the force of it, only to crash back down into his waiting hands, your voice wavering on a high-pitched, girlish wail that shrieks above the sound of rain. Waves of bliss lap at every nerve ending and your vision goes fuzzy for a minute, the only sound you can register is the pounding of your blood in your ears.

And then you register the steady, wet plunge of his fingers still dragging in and out of your pussy.

“Was that mine?” 

Your clit tingles from overstimulation, but you’d rather die than have him stop – you want to answer, if only you could pick up the pieces of your voice. You can only nod, whining. He presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh, the skin there smeared with your release.

“You did a bad thing, letting someone else touch what’s mine.” He scolds, rubs that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back in your head, holds his finger to it until it burns. You cry, his punishment evident. “Now you have to apologize, Neptune.” 

You nod again, mouth wrenched open as he drags you back and forth across pleasure and pain. 

“Y-y-yes, Ezra,” the words are bone dry, cracked between your teeth. “I’m sorry.” 

Pure wickedness strikes those earth eyes and scorches them a singed black. 

“Unfortunately, atonement is a fickle thing,” Ezra tuts, dragging his lips across your thigh in a mockery of a kiss, “and I’m not quite ready to offer absolution. Despite your offerings,” he wipes his mouth with a stroke of his palm, “this godhead remains rigid.” 

You whimper. He grins with a mouthful of teeth.

Ezra pulls back onto his knees and shuts your thighs, his hand palming your ass as he indicates that you should turn. Your entire lower half still feels like jelly – no one has ever made you come that hard with just their mouth before – but you obey. You stagger onto your hands and knees in front of him. 

His wide palm appears beneath your chin.

“Spit.”

You do.

That spit-wet hand cups your still wet cunt, middle finger rubbing briefly against your clit, before it disappears. You feel him move closer, hear his slick hand pump himself a few times with a grunt. Hot lips drag up your spine, interspersed with the nip of teeth, and when he lays across your back, his hands overtaking yours and threading your fingers together, his bare chest presses up against the skin of your back and you shudder. 

He noses your temple, his throbbing cock coated between your folds. He bites at your jaw and follows your line of sight through the open tent flap. 

“Breathtaking, isn’t it? All that moisture, dripping and running over smooth rock and fern. All that heat coagulating in spaces it shouldn’t fit. All that . . . open field, for anyone to just wander into. Take a look around and smell the air. Could they smell you like I can, Neptune? The way you leak for this cock?”

As he hums filth in your ear, his hand settles again at the base of your throat, thick fingers squeezing just enough to threaten, before sliding down to your swinging breasts, rough palms catching your swollen nipples, then arching down your stomach and between your legs. 

He plays slowly with your clit; barely enough stimulation and he knows it.

“Ask for forgiveness.” He croons in your ear. The breeze returns for a moment, and between the heat of him mounting you like a feral animal and the hesitant touch of outside air against your sweaty chest, you shudder with a groan. 

“I’m sorry, Ezra. I’m so–,” his middle finger increases its pressure slightly and the words shatter in your mouth, “sor-ry.” 

“And for what?”

He continues to rub between your folds and the minute hitch in his breath is more intoxicating than anything he’s done so far. This is affecting him just as much as it does you. He kisses your jaw then tugs on the skin with his teeth. 

“For letting a-anyone but you t-touch me.”

Ezra presses his damp forehead into your shoulder, panting, your correct answers soaking the neurons in his brain. Your reward is the faster stroke of his finger. 

“And why was that a reprehensible thing to do?” His hips rut into yours, the scrape and rub of his cock between your slick lips and thighs almost enough to set you off. 

“Because it’s yours – I’m yours – f-fuck, Ezra, I’m yours, I only wanna be yours,” you sob. 

He’s suddenly gone from above you and the loud crack of his hand against your ass cheek deafens you for a minute, the sting skittering up your back and down your thigh. 

“Good fuckin’ girl.”

Your elbows shudder, the weight of his tone, his hand nearly forcing you onto your chest with your ass still in the air. You wanna be so good for him. 

He’s breathing hard and his skin is warm and damp where you feel his thigh press against the back of yours. There’s a measure of restraint he’s showing and it makes your heart pound in anticipation. You swing your hips back at him, as if you could catch yourself on his cock. 

“I wanna show you I’m yours,” you cry, nails curling into the pallet. “Please, Ezra, please!”

His broad hand settling on your spine draws a hiccup out of you, a sob. 

“Breathe . . . Good girls get what they need.” 

On an exhale, his blunt tip spreads you apart and he shuffles closer as he thickens inside you. His loud, unabashed moan overwhelms yours, when you think you might just be devoured by him. His hand, the one at your hip, squeezes you, silent reassurance. You can feel the knuckles on his other hand against your slick lips as he feeds himself into you.

“Neptune, talk to me. How,” your cunt tightens around his girth at the sound of his voice coaching you along and he grunts, as if suddenly dizzy, “h-how do you feel?”

“Amazing, Ez. Please keep going don’t stop I can take it–,” 

He obliges; something’s reconnected the wires in his brain enough to tell him to move. He huffs before sinking deeper and your eyes roll back in your head. He bottoms out and waits again, letting you both catch your breath. 

“Spent a hundred moons thinking about this.” The puff of breath against your shoulder is the only warning you have before he presses his mouth to your skin. His hand free of your clutch, his thumb softly rubs the muscle of your neck. He kisses you and kisses you and kisses you, wherever he finds bare flesh. “Would wake up in the night, with you a few feet from me, looking like divinity made sin, made real, but I wasn’t worthy to touch you. You got me all tongue-tied, Neptune, all mucked up in the head. A silly boy,” he purrs.

You glance over your shoulder, unsure which Ezra is going to meet your eyes, but wanting all of them. The man you feel most safe with in this world and the next greets you and you reach back and squeeze his hand. He chuckles softly, and with it, comes a gentle roll of his hips. You gasp, airily, your gaze slipping from his face to his chest, to the steady breathing in his stomach, and then to the growth of hair that fades as it reaches up his low belly. How many times did you sit across the room from him with your fists in tight balls, watching as he regaled exploits of riches and wonder, all the while thinking about how thick his cock is outlined in his suit – you’re so blinded by breathy dreams of what the musky scent of his cock must taste like that you miss that he’s pulled out farther, halfway now, and you are completely knocked senseless when he thrusts back in, a beat faster. 

“Later, Neptune. I’ll let you suck my cock later, but right now I’ve gotta ride this pussy to oblivion.” 

Your thighs quake at his promise, cunt squeezing him, and he huffs, picking up speed.

“I felt that. You really like sucking cock that much?” 

All you can answer him with is a whine. Your knees are starting to ache from the barest cushion the tarp provides, the palms of your hands sore, but you can’t find it in you to remotely care. With every stroke, he fills you up to a breaking point before riding you back out. Moaning gratefully, you finally drop onto your elbows, your cheek scraping against the pallet with every forceful thrust behind you. He tilts your hips up higher, on one knee to fuck down into you; he’s searching with his cock for that spot that made your brain numb. 

Like a flood, you feel bliss roll down your spine, his hands on your lower back pulling you up another peak, and you gasp, at the edge of a very, very long drop, the sounds in the tent as sticky and wet as the rain outside.

But Ezra’s sounds are loudest of them all. Grunting. Hissing. Moaning like he’s fucking the best pussy of his life. You open one eye, glancing over your shoulder and the sight drops open your mouth. Hips pumping forward, skin dewy with sweat, he breathes like a freshly broken-in stallion, relieved that something finally bested him. Chest full and tight with muscle, flushed pink with roaring blood. Stomach torqued with tension. His rhythm is caught between his hands pulling you onto him and his cock thrusting into you. A frantic beat that bounces wet and hot, mouth agape and eyes rolling shut, his head drops back between his shoulders. You push back slightly and he stutters, the hand on your hip tightening. 

“Not gonna last, Neptune–” he grits, his jaw locked tight. The image of him actively staving off an orgasm for you to finish first has been imprinted on your brain for the rest of your life. 

“J-just a little harder, Ez.” 

He obeys, submitting as you had for him, sweat curling around his neck and down his chest. 

As release barrels down on you, those mahogany eyes catch and hold yours in a second that lasts through infinity. They promise you things that you didn’t know you asked for, those eyes, made vows only your soul could hear. You see, in that instant before you are swallowed whole, that he’d die at your feet, if you asked him to. He’d give up every worldly treasure he won through grit and his teeth if you needed it or wanted it. If it made you happy.

His Neptune – in the crushing grip of your gravity. Willingly caught in the trail of your comet as you fill up his night sky.    

“Yeah, that’s it, right there – Ez-ra!” 

His face blown out in near ecclesial bliss is the last thing you see before your vision goes white. Your heart pounds in your ears so loudly, it's the only thing that exists for an instant. And then you shatter with a perfectly soft cry, bliss breaking across you like a heavy wave, and you succumb to exhaustion. 

Behind you, he groans, fucking you faster through it, snarling something entirely incomprehensible. 

You think you might say his name, you don’t know what your mouth is doing, but whatever you say, it breaks him and you are dragged through another low shock, the flood of cum deep into your achy cunt enough to contract your walls again, his harsh groan stuffing your ears just as full. 

The rain is barely louder than your desperate attempts to breathe. 

The tarp crackles as you slump forward onto your stomach, Ezra dropping to his side with half his body over yours. Panting raggedly, his hand curls up to the base of your neck, a reassurance of his presence and commitment when words have failed him. 

You lay like that for a long time.

And then, when feeling starts to return to your limbs, you turn your head, your nose rubbing against his. When you breathe hotly across his face, he grins a satisfied grin that splits into a chuckle. You laugh with him too, curling up into his chest, his forearm is sticky across your spine, and he kisses your forehead.

Staring up at the tarp, together you listen to the rain. 

In the long drawn out, buzzy silence, his nails scratch the base of your skull. And then, like he remembered something vital, he picks his head up and looks at you.

“Do you want this to change things for us?” 

“Yes.” You cup the muscles of his thick neck. “Yes, Ezra. I want this to change everything between us. Please.” 

He smiles, unguarded and open. 

“Wild horses never stood a chance . . . especially against these tits.” He nips at the swell of your breast and you laugh. “I had no plans of letting you go in any case . . . but we are bound from this day forward. You know that, don’t you?”

You nod. A stroke of heat passes over his eyes and  Ezra leans forward to kiss you, his hand on your cheek pulling you in close, as close as you can be, two sticky bodies, cum-dried and tingling.

“And if we’re going to spend every year of our lives together, I have a question for you.” he pushes away a stray strand of hair stuck to your face, nose tip to nose tip, “did you have a good birthday, Neptune? Are you satisfied?”

With a giggle that has his eyebrow arching playfully, you kiss his cheek.

“I already told you. This was the best birthday I’ve ever had.” 

+

#ezra prospect #Ezra prospect 2018 #Pedro pascal Ezra #Ezra #ezra smut #prospect 2018 #prospect smut #pedro pascal characters #ezra fanfiction #Ezra fanfic #Pedro pascal character smut #smut #Pedro pascal character fanfiction #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect smut #ezra prospect fluff #1k followers #1k celebration #followers celebration

[originalaccountname]

Everyone is in full conspiracy mode since (a little before) the last chapter with the Fyodor ability theories and I'm loving that. That got me thinking:

What was Fyodor's objective again?

Disclaimer, I fully rely on translations, but I cross-checked with two of them so...

special thanks to @ticklinglady for finding these pages!

"... a world free of sin and skill users."

1. A world free of sin

He says he wants to spill the blood of the sinners like 3 times but doesn't really give an explanation of who, what or why.

His definition of "sin" is quite vague, but could be the usual christian/catholic/orthodox/etc (sorry it's been a while) stuff. The one time he identified a specific behaviour as a sin was when the Agency and Port Mafia were killing each other "even though they knew they were being set up to do so" (though he also said Ace breathing and thinking was a crime and said killing Karma was freeing him).

In the Dead Apple novelization (not written, but edited by Asagiri, who came up with the original idea for the movie and gave a whole speech on Fyodor to the writing team), Fyodor does make a speech about the post-dragon red fog surrounding the Earth, transforming it into a "dead apple" by essentially killing everyone and "washing away the original sin of man". The apple motif was a sort of poetic irony.

According to the novelization, this was his true objective at the time and he never mentions the Book, not even in the epilogue, as opposed to doing so in the movie.

This scenario is kind of a contradiction, since the fog would have erased everyone except ability users, though most would have suffered at the hands of their abilities before dying. Said abilities would have then been kept in a collection maintained by Shibusawa, an ability singularity himself, which brings us to...

2. A world free of ability users

I went through the manga and never did find an instance of Fyodor speaking ill of abilities, only ability users. That doesn't mean there is a difference to him in the first place, but it's interesting.

The Dead Apple scenario is to be taken with a grain of salt, but killing everyone doesn't seem to be a problem for him (he kills nearly everyone he interacts with anyway), and this implies that to him every single human is sinful beyond redemption and can only be saved through death. Why he is singling out ability users in that case? seems redundant.

Other instances of him talking about his objective included talking about "the will of the hand of God and Demon", doing this "for the sake of a better world", and saying the death he gives is a form of salvation by severing the influence of sins from the soul. He also talks a big game about God and his intentions (order and stuff), and Dazai likes to point and laugh at him when he does so.

As a bonus, in Dead Apple, Fyodor answered Dazai's question of why he accepted to join forces with him by saying it was "simply to see the world as it ought to be" (and because he wanted entertainment, with Dazai turning out to be that entertainment, as Fyodor was in fact using him the whole time for his own agenda).

now go and apply that knowledge to your theories

#and this is an open mic post if you have more feel free to add #i went through the entire manga and fyodor's scenes in the movie and his scenes in the novelization AND the DA prologue in mayoi #i don't know where else to look without getting ahead of myself #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd analysis #bsd meta #bsd manga spoilers #? #this was mostly because of the ''what are you'' in the last chapter #bsd fyodor #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #apparently i talk sometimes #i don't want to cut it it's not THAT long so #long post

[mellifluouaamor]

MASH BURNEDEAD, FINN AMES, LANCE CROWN, DOT BARRETT, RAYNE AMES, ABEL WALKER, ABYSS RAZOR, WIRTH MADL, CARPACCIO LUO-YANG, ORTER MADL (SEPARATE) ⍣ GENDER-NEUTRAL READER

synopsis. his reaction to you asking him, “what if i suddenly disappeared one day?”

author's note. reader's relationship with the boys is up to your interpretation! but reader is implied to be orter's betrothed here c;

as a blank look crosses his face, MASH almost drops the cream puff he was eating upon registering your question. he stops for a moment to think what exactly made you ask him that, but when he can't come up with any reason he decides to ask you a question of his own. "did something happen?"

when you don't answer him, he clenches a fist beside his head. someone must be threatening you - why else would you ask him that out of nowhere? "tell me his name. i'll punch the stuffing out of him so he doesn't bother you again."

mash is puzzled when you wave your hands around frantically, claiming that nobody is bothering you. "i was just curious!" you exclaim, "don't think about it too deeply. i just wanna know how you'd feel and what you'd do if it happens."

he hums thoughtfully as he continues eating his cream puff. the thought of you suddenly disappearing makes his chest feel heavy. losing you is like losing his pops - but ten times worse. he visibly deflates and stops eating, which worries you. when you place a hand on his shoulder, mash grabs that same hand and pulls you towards him.

"if you suddenly disappeared one day... i'll be sad. but i'll find you," he says, cupping your cheek which grows warm under his touch, "and i'll keep trying until i do."

FINN would stare at you like you've just told the entire world his deepest and darkest secret. a few seconds pass, and the freckled first-year then clings to your sleeve as if he's a child about to be left behind by his mother. "wh-what? why would you ask that? where would you go? why would you go? is... is everything okay...?"

you could tell that he's becoming more anxious with every second that ticks by from the way he's clenching his fists against your robe. you reassure him that everything is okay and he relaxes a little, but he's still bothered by your question.

"then why are you asking me...?" he asks, trailing off. he's starting to think that you're actually hiding something from him and becomes jittery again. he grips your arm tightly, afraid that you'll disappear into thin air if he doesn't, and you wince; you swear that he's cutting off the blood circulation in your arm.

when you tell him that you're only asking for fun, that does little to ease his nerves. "but i can't get it out of my head! i'm scared- i don't want you to disappear without a trace!"

for the next few days, finn would become extra clingy and glue himself to your side whenever he can. lance and dot would cast judging looks his way, but he couldn't care less. as long as he's with you, there's no way you'd suddenly disappear, right?

LANCE rolls his eyes at your question. "like that'll ever happen. you don't even know how to cast the transportation spell properly." despite his words, he's a bit concerned that something might be happening to you behind his back or you're sick, and you're not telling him about it.

"oh come on, you know that's not what i meant!" you exclaim, "just answer my question!" he lets out a quiet sigh. folding his arms over his chest, he stares straight ahead and thinks about what he'd do if you were suddenly gone from the academy one day.

"there's not much to do except to ask your friends and teachers where you went. if they don't know, then i'll search for you myself." there's a pause, and you tilt your head curiously as he looks down, his bangs casting a shadow over his eyes. "i'll keep looking until i find you." after that, lance doesn't talk to you for the rest of the day.

the following morning, your friends tell you that lance was borderline interrogating them about your private life last night, making you internally question his intentions. you can feel someone's gaze on your back as you go about your day, making you scared of the prospect of someone stalking you.

you also notice that lance has been overly attentive towards your activities over the course of the week, asking questions such as, "where's your next class? which friend are you going to sit with? what class do you have after that?"

DOT doesn't think much about it at first and just laughs. "disappear? where are you even planning to go?" with a beam, he slings an arm over your shoulder. "don't think of going anywhere without me! wherever you go, i'll follow!"

you laugh along, unable to continue the conversation with how much of a cheery fellow he is.

later on, dot's mind would drift back to your question. he knits his eyebrows together, wondering why you would even ask him that. is someone bullying you? or maybe... he stands up abruptly and slams his hands on his desk, disrupting the class as he shouts, "I OFFENDED THEM WITHOUT KNOWING?!"

even when he's told to stand outside of the classroom until the class ends as punishment, he couldn't stop thinking about it. he's itching to barge into your classroom to ask you, but holds himself back from getting into further trouble.

during one of your breaks, dot would pull you aside and hold your shoulders firmly as he stares into your wide eyes. "look, i'm sorry for whatever i did. i'll apologise a thousand times if i have to," he says, and after a brief pause he adds, "just don't go anywhere i can't follow."

RAYNE is immediately alarmed by your question, and he turns to face you with his usual frown deepening. he then grabs your arm to prevent you from leaving and asks, "what do you mean? spit it out. what happened?"

he won't let you go until you tell him everything. he doesn't even bother hiding the fact that he's worried, and the worst case scenario keeps surfacing in his mind. this is why he didn't want people knowing that you're close to him; you might be used against him, or even worse, hurt because of him.

"please, (y/n). tell me if something's wrong," he implores. he can't bear the thought you disappearing right before his eyes, and he really thinks that your life is in danger. even when you say that you're asking the question in a general sense, he's not about to take any chances.

rayne would ask max to look after you in his place and to keep tabs on your activities, as well as the people you'd frequently interact with. max thinks that he's overthinking but does it all anyway because he understands rayne's concern for your safety and well-being.

rayne would also make an effort to spend more time with you outside of classes so that he can guard you himself. you'll have to give him plenty of reassurance to convince him that nobody is out to get you.

ABEL drops his doll; that's how shocked he feels when you asked him that haunting question. why would you ask him that, knowing that he had lost his mother when he was a child? do you want to torture him by disappearing without a single trace of your existence?

you immediately regret asking him that and try to apologise. before any words could leave your mouth, abel pulls you into a tight hug with one arm wrapped around your waist and the other around your shoulders. his gesture catches you off-guard, rendering you speechless.

"please don't," he whispers, "i feel the safest with you. if anyone or anything tries to take you from my side, i swear i'll take you back." without you, abel would truly be a lost child searching endlessly for the warmth that had left him.

the following day, you'd find abel and abyss as your scary dog privilege on campus.

"... are you actually scared of me?" ABYSS gives you a melancholy smile as he asks you a question of his own. he had always dreaded the day that you would admit your fear of him because of his evil eye; although he knew that you would never leave him simply because of that, he still can't help but be scared of the slightest possibility that you might.

he slowly reaches for your face and gingerly cups your cheek, as if he's scared that you might reject him and pull away from his touch. he lets out the bated breath he didn't know he had been holding when you don't, and caresses the soft skin with his thumb.

"i know it's selfish of me to say this... but please don't leave me. you're all that i have, and life is only worth fighting for when you're there," he admits. abyss had a rough past where he was unloved even by his own parents, so when you approached him with a smile that shines like the light of dawn, he found himself unable to let go of your outstretched hand.

however, if the situation ever calls for it, he's willing to learn to let go. "if there ever comes a time when you're no longer by my side... then i'll accept it. but if anyone tries to take you against your will..." there's a pause as his left eye glints. "then i'll make sure that they're the ones who disappear."

WIRTH lets out a loud laugh before leaning towards your face with a smirk. "And who would dare to take you away from me?" he'll gladly challenge anyone who attempts to do so, and he's confident that he'll win. "you've always been bad at hide and seek too, so how would you even hide from me?"

"just answer the damn question," you say with a huff, "it's not that deep. it's only a 'what if'." propping his chin on the palm of his hand, he mulls over what you had asked. if you disappeared because someone took you away...

"well, i'll simply find you and make the perpetrator suffer," he replies, "by the time i notice your disappearance, you wouldn't have gone far anyway." then, there's a long, awkward pause as wirth averts his gaze, like he wants to say something else but is reluctant to.

after a moment, he adds in a more serious tone, "if you need any protection, don't hesitate to find me. i promise i'll keep you safe." you can't help but feel a bit shy hearing those words come from him.

CARPACCIO is eerily silent. he doesn't even look at you. he could only try to think of what his life would be like in your absence… and decides that he doesn't want to consider the possibility.

"disappear where?" he asks as he finally meets your nervous gaze, "would you disappear unwillingly? or of your own accord?" cupping his chin, he thinks about your question more thoroughly and tries to apply it in the different situations he could come up with.

"if you were taken against your will, then the most logical thing to do is rescue you," he answers, spinning his knife around his fingers, "and of course, i'll make sure that whoever kidnapped you will be in so much pain that they wish they're dead." a slight shiver went down your spine; you could actually see carpaccio doing that.

"but if you left on your own, then..." carpaccio trails off for a moment, unsure of how to vocalise his thoughts. "... i'd still find you, i guess. and try to figure out why you left."

carpaccio knows that the question you asked is merely hypothetical... but he can't stop himself from thinking that he may have done something to make you consider disappearing from his life. he'd try to figure out what instigated those thoughts of yours before finally asking you.

"i have ways of looking for missing people. just finding you would be child's play," ORTER answers, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "is that all you'd like to discuss with me? please stop wasting my time with your nonsensical questions. if you're that unhappy with our engagement, take it up with my father."

he doesn't want to admit it, but he's actually thinking about your question far too much to the point that it's affecting his daily life. he gets visibly agitated whenever he's not in your presence, which doesn't go unnoticed by kaldo, who proceeds to tease him. "what got you so nervous, hm? worried that your future spouse won't be happy with you once you're married?"

if renatus happens to be passing by, he'd join in by saying, "he brought it upon himself. who asked him to be an ass fiance? i wouldn't be surprised if they plan on disappearing from his sight."

renatus' words would get orter thinking. after pondering your question more, he'd come to the conclusion that you feel neglected and are planning to leave him soon. the mere thought makes his chest feel painfully tight, and he'd drop whatever he's doing to search for you.

the longer he takes to find you, the more anxious he feels inside. the moment he sees you, he'd grab your shoulder and roughly turn you around to confirm that it's really you. you're surprised to see the dread on his countenance, which gradually dissipates once he's sure that he has found you.

there's a flash of guilt in his eyes, and as he gently takes your hand in his, he quietly says, "i'm sorry. please... don't ever leave my side."

(you can read kaldo's part here)

#loveletters—! #mashle magic and muscles #mashle #mashle x reader #mash burnedead x reader #finn ames x reader #lance crown x reader #dot barrett x reader #rayne ames x reader #abel walker x reader #abyss razor x reader #wirth madl x reader #carpaccio luo yang x reader #orter madl x reader #headcanons #gender neutral reader

[barcaatthemoon]

attention whore || alexia putellas x reader ||

minors dni, 18 +, smut ahead.

alexia punishes you after act like a brat to get her attention.

alexia's grip was tight on your hips as she led you away from the hotel bar. many of the girls were watching the two of you. frido and sandra had been sat with alexia earlier in the night, the three of them deciding not to indulge with everybody else. you may have all just won a big match, but there was still a lot more work to do. you understood that, but you also wanted to cut loose and have some fun.

"don't try to look back, just keep going," alexia said with a sharp pinch to your thigh. she didn't seem to care at the little noise you made from the pain. it had been a long time since you had done something to get alexia like that.

"ale," you whined. she placed her hand on the back of your neck as the two of you got into the elevator together. she forced you to turn and look at her. all you saw was the angry flare of jealousy in her eyes. "ale, i'm sorry."

"no, you're not," alexia laughed. it was dangerous whenever she got like that. you knew that you'd be punished, but the longevity of it was unknown to you. alexia could get over it within a couple of minutes or she could decide to drag things out and torture you for weeks on end. "if you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes."

"i wasn't playing any games, i swear. all i was doing was talking to another player," you tried to plead your case with her, but it was no use. alexia wasn't going to buy any of your excuses, not that you blamed her. alexia hadn't been giving you her attention, so you tried to seek it elsewhere.

"don't lie to me, it will only make things worse for you," alexia warned you. she knew what you were doing because you had done it before. you were a very needy person, and alexia had a lot of practice dealing with that. she had been getting used to it before the two of you had even gotten together. "god, i don't even know if i want to look at you right now."

"ale, please." you weren't sure if pouting and playing up your neediness for her was the right move. your question seemed to be answered once alexia got you back into the hotel room. she seemed hellbent on turning your desire for attention back on you. it was attention that you wanted, so alexia was going to give you everything that you could handle and then some.

"strip and get on the bed for me with your legs spread. don't you dare lay a finger on yourself, understood? tonight, your body is mine, and only mine," alexia told you. you followed her instructions, undressing yourself quickly before you scrambled up onto the bed. alexia watched you lay there with your legs spread for her as she poured herself a drink from the mini bar.

you started to squirm beneath her gaze as she pulled a chair up across from where you were laying. alexia smirked as she sipped on her drink. there wasn't a single hint of a movement to touch you just yet. alexia seemed to be content to watch you squirm and suffer under her gaze. and the worst part was that you couldn't do anything to cover yourself up without warranting a worse punishment from her.

"are you going to sit there all night ale?" you asked her.

"be patient, let me finish my drink bebita. you're getting what you wanted, i'm paying attention to you," alexia said. she leaned forward a little, just enough to place one of her hands on your ankle. alexia noticed the way that your eyes flicked down to her hand on your skin and tsked. "eyes up here. i want us to both enjoy this moment."

"sorry," you mumbled out an apology. alexia leaned down and pressed a kiss to your calf. you struggled to keep your eyes on her as she finished her drink. alexia finished her drink, and for a moment, you got excited about the idea of her getting in bed with you. "what are you doing?"

"getting myself another drink. you're so fucking hot that i feel absolutely parched," alexia answered smugly. you hated the look on her face, even if it was one that you usually loved. alexia raked her eyes up and down your body as she poured herself a second drink. this time, she sat down on the bed in between your legs. foolishly, you sat up a little, only to be shoved right back down.

"ale," you whined.

"(y/n)," alexia mocked. you pouted and looked away from her, rolling your eyes as you did. alexia grabbed onto your jaw, forcing you to look at her. she leaned in until your lips were almost touching and told you, "if you look away from me again, i swear i'll stop. and trust me, i can go a lot longer without fucking you than you can handle."

"i'm sorry," you apologized. alexia let go of your jaw, allowing for that hand to go straight between your legs. "tell me what you want from me."

"i want you to lay back and let me have my fun," alexia told you. it was difficult not to sit up and move with her, but alexia wasn't giving you that option. you knew that if she stopped again, she'd make you beg for her to touch you again later. you were getting past the point of even wanting to be bratty with alexia. she was finally touching you, working away at the tension that had been building up inside of you.

you wanted to close your eyes as her fingers toyed with your clit. alexia knew just how to touch you in order to distract you. she knew exactly what she was doing, but you held strong. you forced yourself not to let go, even as alexia pushed two fingers inside of you. she was moving with the intention of roughly fucking you, something that alexia knew would have you looking away from her before you came.

"ale, please," you whimpered. you reached down and grabbed her wrist, slowing her movements down just a bit. "i can't do this much longer. ale, don't make me, i'm sorry. i'm so sorry."

"you haven't even cum yet. don't you want me to make you cum?" alexia asked as she curled her fingers inside of you. she watched as your brows furrowed and a small string of curse words left your lips. "i thought that this was what you wanted from me."

"i wanted you, that was all. i just wanted your attention, but not like this. i'll behave, just please, let me close my eyes," you pleaded with her. alexia shifted, spreading your legs a little wider as she pushed her hips against yours. "ale, please."

"since you've been asking so nicely, i guess that i will, under one condition. i want you to tell me how much you love me," alexia said. she stilled her fingers inside of you, but kept her thumb rubbing lazy circles around your clit.

"fuck! i love you so much alexia, i swear. i love you so fucking much, i don't think i've ever loved anybody like i love you. i love you on the pitch, i love you at home, and i love you right here between my legs fucking me. i love you when i'm staring at you, and i love you when i can't see you," you rambled. alexia's features softened as she leaned down and kissed you. her fingers started up again, and this time, you couldn't hold yourself back. alexia didn't seem to mind as she felt you clenching around her fingers.

"hey," alexia said softly as she pulled her fingers out of you.

"what?" you asked weakly. alexia laid down next to you, staring at you as she propped herself up on her elbows.

"i love you too." alexia leaned in and kissed your cheek.

"do you love me enough to get me some comfy clothes?" you asked her. alexia nodded and rolled out of bed. you watched as she grabbed some clothes for you to wear before changing out of her outfit from the bar.

alexia was a little extra cuddly once she got back into bed with you. she could tease you in the bedroom all she wanted about you wanting her attention, but she wanted yours just as badly. the only difference was her method of grabbing your attention. however, both of you almost always seemed to cling to each other the same way once you got a little bit of acknowledgement.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso smut #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #minors do not interact

[roosterr]

Heyyy! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests rn.. BUT if you areee, can I just please get a john price with the prompt “why are you avoiding me?” (Bc I’m a slut for angst) with a large fry on the side? IF NOT I TOTALLY COOL

outside it starts to pour

note: two posts in one month? who am i? i hope this is angsty enough lol, i re-wrote it 3 times bc i wasnt happy with it, its a love hate relationship 🥲 but anyway pls enjoy anon!!!

pairing: john price x gn!reader

wc: 1.5k

summary: in your dreams, you're more than just someone who warms john's bed

warnings: fwb, implied smut but no actual smut, angst, miscommunication (i cant help myself), hurt/no comfort, no happy ending

ao3

"why're you avoidin' me?"

the question echoes in your ears, drowning out the war drum of your heartbeat despite the heavy silence that settles between you.

john has a hand around your arm, gentle and barely there but still anchoring you in place like a vice with just his light touch. the back of your mind screams for you to rip yourself free, get as far away from the familiar timbre of his voice and the near-stifling comfort of his smoky scent as you can before he can get you in his web again. but just like always, he's got you right where he wants you.

how many times have you been pulled behind the door he was halfway out of? and how many times have you been ushered back out again with your hair and heart a mess, just to pretend like nothing happened? always one foot in your little secret and one in his reputation, never fully with you; that's how the captain operated, and you feel like a fool for ever believing otherwise.

a squeeze to your arm brings you back to the present, suddenly all too aware of his fingers against your skin and his eyes boring into your own with an intensity that has your heart fluttering – against your mind's better judgement.

"i'm not." your response is a mutter, your gaze dropping from his to the hardwood ahead of you. it's unconvincing, even to you, but he had no right to question you like this.

"you are." he shoots back, gruffly and without a second of hesitation. from the corner of your vision you see his brow furrow, casting shadow over those eyes that always captivate you so mercilessly.

a sigh escapes his chest at your lack of response, his eyes darting from one end of the hallway to the other before giving your arm a miniscule tug, nodding his head back towards his office.

that's how it always starts. the thought makes your heart clenches painfully. "stop. i don't want to–"

"no." he interrupts firmly, with a shake of his head so resolute it almost has you believing that was never his intention to begin with. your eyes gravitate towards his again, and there's a spark of something, under the surface, when his thumb strokes your skin, dipping just below the hem of your sleeve. "talk to me, what's wrong?"

the urge to give in is tempting, to fall into his arms like you always do, just how he wants, how he expects you to. this time, however, you're determined to avoid his trap.

"it's nothing," you avert your gaze again, sighing in the same moment you take his wrist and slowly pull his touch from your arm, "just leave it."

john tuts. "it's not nothin', though, is it?" he asks, sidestepping into your line of sight again and ignoring the pointed look you give him. "talk to me."

if he cared for you the same way you do for him, his persistence would be endearing, but you know better. you're a good soldier who just so happens to be a good fuck too; that's all you are to him, and that's all you'll ever be.

"i told you. drop it." you shake your head, face creasing into a frown as you turn on your heel. if you have to endure any more of his deceiving sympathy, you know you'll only end up caving to his desires. you're not that strong, and that's why you need to keep as much distance as possible between you.

"you're somewhere else, lieutenant." he calls after you, stopping you in your tracks before you can get too far. you don't bother to turn around, but he continues anyway. "if you can't get your head back in the game, i can't risk havin' you out in the field."

your indignant laugh bounces off the walls.

"it's just that easy for you, isn't it?" there's a lump in your throat as you force the last two words over it, one you hope neither of you will acknowledge.

"and what's that supposed to mean?" he scoffs, the sound of his boots taking a few damning steps closer to where you stand, still with your back to him.

"i don't know why i'm offended, you always do this." you mutter, bringing your hand up to smooth over the crease of your brow, the tremble there barely noticeable but telling of your fragile state.

he doesn't respond this time, waiting for you to elaborate with what you're sure is a glare directed at the back of your head.

"you find something to take, and take, and take from," you spin around to face him again, which proves to be a mistake because the second you meet his concerned eyes, you can feel the sting of tears in your own. "and as soon as it's not useful to you anymore, you chuck it away like yesterday's leftovers."

the silence that follows your outburst is so tense it weighs you down. you can't will yourself to move, to tear your gaze away from him even when your vision blurs. it takes a moment for you to realise just how ragged your breathing has become, feeling the hard rise and fall of your chest over your racing heart as you come down from your anger.

"that… that's not what this is." john utters, his face morphing into something you coin as pity, and it makes your heart squeeze all over again.

"don't. i told you to fucking leave it…" your voice is weaker than before, and you curse yourself for showing this amount of weakness in front of him, because now you know he knows that it was never just sex to you. he never meant that little to you.

by some miracle you manage to blink away the tears before they can fall and embarrass you further. you wait for him to say something, in a painful sense of awkwardness that's never been there before, but all he does is stare at you.

"i can't do this anymore." you whisper, the words muffled through the blood rushing in your ears. you fix him with another scathing look before turning to leave for the second time tonight.

"wait." he calls your name as you walk away, quickly moving to catch up with you, but you have no desire to listen to him, not anymore. he gives you no time to react when he rushes to stand in your path, grasping both your shoulders to stop you when you try to sidestep him. "for fucks sake, just hold on."

there's a conflicted look in his gaze that seems to pull his expression down with it. if you had anything left to give you might've felt bad for being the cause, but it's been months of this game of cat and mouse, and you're drained.

"it was a mutual arrangement," he urges, his eyes search yours, something you can't discern muddying the deep blue as they dart across your face.

you give a watery scoff, rolling your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself of the ache his touch brings you. "there was no arrangement. you're not an idiot, john, you knew how i felt about you."

"what?" he has the audacity to sound confused, and you have to resist the urge to scoff again. "how you felt about me? what're you saying?"

"i think it's pretty obvious by now." you mutter, folding your arms over you chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. he hasn't taken his eyes off you once, your skin prickling under his intense stare. "i'm an idiot for thinking this would go any other way."

there's another heavy pause, john opens his mouth and closes it again like he was fighting with himself on what to say. the way your throat has constricted makes it hard to breath without sobbing, your breath coming out laboured and uneven.

"do you regret it?" he finally asks, his fingertips pressing into your flesh almost imperceptibly, leaving your skin tingling even though your shirt.

it was self-destruction, giving in to him every time even though it felt like a thorn in your heart. to allow yourself to live in the fantasy that he loved you while you were in his arms, just to have that warm feeling shattered when he told you to get dressed.

"yes."

you regret falling for someone who would never love you back.

"it's over. let me go, captain." you whisper, a plea for him to release you from whatever spell he's got you under, even if you don't really mean it.

his hands drop from your shoulders, letting one curl into a fist at his side and bringing the other up to scratch his beard in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. you know it's for the better, but the knowledge couldn't stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you brush past him, feeling his gaze burning into you as you lean away to avoid touching him.

he doesn't stop you when you walk away this time.

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price #john price #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #roosterr writes

[angelskills]

JJK men reacting to you saying you got a brazilian wax from a man, would love if Gojo and Toji were included :3

a/n: thank u for the req!! this is too funny LMAOO 😭😭😭😭, I'm not sure if you wanted smut or just overall silliness, so i wrote silliness and smut for Sukuna, if you want smut pls request again! I'm gonna be writing this character accurately! you might not think this is accurate, but if you want something else, pls be more specific and request again! I'll be more than happy to write, NOT PROOFREAD :)

JJK men reacting to you getting a Brazilian wax

characters: Sukuna, Gojo, Choso, Toji, Naoya

warnings: None really for Gojo, Choso or Toji, Misogyny Naoya and smut for Sukuna

‹𝟹﹒Gojo

⪩⪨﹒Satoru always has a big reaction whenever you get a Brazilian wax in general, doesn't matter if it's a man or a woman.

⪩⪨﹒You got your Brazilian wax done on a Saturday, and usually, Satoru doesn't work that day. This time, you forgot to tell him.

⪩⪨﹒You came home, still feeling a bit of pain in your private area from the waxing. Satoru heard the front door open and rushed there, checking to see if you were there. He was in his blue apron with a pan in his hand. You pointed your hand out, signaling for him to take your purse.

⪩⪨﹒"Where were you?" he asked. You told him about the Brazilian wax and apologized for leaving without telling him, you pointed out that you got it done by a man but, he just ignored it.

⪩⪨﹒You couldn't believe that man. He actually got on his knees and started petting your lower abdomen, "Aww, I can't pet it anymoreeeee."

⪩⪨﹒You were so tired of him. You smacked his head with your purse, he's driving you absolutely crazy with these jokes. He started pointing and laughing at you. You swear you wanted to kill him right there, but you ended up giving in and laughed too.

✹﹒Toji

⪩⪨﹒Toji made sure you always got your Brazilian wax done by a woman. But this time, you didn't tell him about it, and made an appointment yourself, not knowing your waxer would be a man.

⪩⪨﹒Toji happened to not have work that day, and you came home to him, though you were expecting him to be at work.

⪩⪨﹒You were telling Toji about your day as he was on his phone, taking a sip from the cup of tea.

⪩⪨﹒As you continued speaking, "I swear, he-",

"He?" He interrupted, choking on his tea, "You got the wax done by another man?"

⪩⪨﹒He was a very jealous man, and you knew that. You knew this would be bad, "Well, I didn't know and it was too late to-"

He stood up and cupped your jaw gently, making you look up at him, his eyes burning with jealousy, "Don't ask no other man to do that for ya. If there are no female waxers, then I'll go ahead and do it myself, don't matter if I know how to or not."

⪩⪨﹒You had the fucking of your LIFE that night, nearly said your safeword, and almost passed out. You promised yourself you will NEVER get your wax done by a man AGAIN.

ᗢ﹒Sukuna

⪩⪨﹒Sukuna never really cared whether you got your Brazilian wax done by a man or a woman, as long as he could fuck you, he was good.

⪩⪨﹒You finally came home from your waxing appointment, looking around the house for your boyfriend, Sukuna. Until you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in. Sukuna buried his head in your neck, kissing and biting on it.

⪩⪨﹒You chuckled and talked about the waxing appointment, you also mentioned how it was a man, but he seemed to really not give a fuck. But, he was happy because that man was excited to fuck your brain out.

⪩⪨﹒He carried you to the bed, burying his head in between your thighs. He kissed your lower thigh and worked his way back up. You felt him press his tongue against your clit, making you slightly arch your back.

⪩⪨﹒His tongue swirled around your clit, sucking on it in a way that made your eyes almost roll back. He slid two fingers in at the same time, making it easier for him since you were so wet. Your pussy clenched around his fingers as he curled it right against your g-spot.

⪩⪨﹒The funny thing is, Sukuna is so good in bed, you never had to fake an orgasm with him, he would just pull it right out of you.

⟡﹒Choso

⪩⪨﹒Choso didn't know that much about modern times. He didn't even know what waxing meant, let alone Brazilian wax. You were getting ready for your appointment which was in the afternoon, you gave Choso a kiss and left.

⪩⪨﹒You finally came home after a few hours, Choso was waiting for you on the couch, watching a movie in his pajamas.

⪩⪨﹒You gave him a kiss, sat down next to him, and talked about your Brazilian wax appointment.

⪩⪨﹒You were shocked. You never knew that he would ask THAT question. That man really asked, "You went to Brazil?"

⪩⪨﹒ You sighed and explained what Brazilian wax is to him, though he was so confused and frustrated.

⪩⪨﹒At the end, he still has a lot to catch up on, so this would take a long time to explain.

✦﹒Naoya

⪩⪨﹒Naoya is the most possessive and insecure man you would ever be with. Who knows why you're even with him in the first place.

⪩⪨﹒You had come back from your Brazilian wax appointment, sneaking in the house in hopes Naoya doesn't notice. But, he just appeared right behind you.

⪩⪨﹒"Where have you been, woman?" He asks, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

⪩⪨﹒"U-uhm... I w-was at a wax appointment." You turned around to look at him, gulping from fear. His eyes widened and he pushed you against the wall, "Why are you going to appointments without me? A woman isn't supposed to go anywhere without a man present. Was the waxer a man or a woman?"

⪩⪨﹒You gulped, you were scared to tell him about the waxer being a man because you knew he would get mad and start throwing things at you.

⪩⪨﹒You didn't answer, he got annoyed by that fact and pinned you against the wall. "Answer me, you stupid of a woman!" he hissed at you. "A m-man... the waxer was a man." You looked away in fear, your heart was beating out of your chest. He chuckled, "Really? Is that so?". You were surprised for a bit that he didn't do anything. Until, he slapped the shit out of you, "Make me a damn sandwich now, woman."

#jujutsu kaisen #smut #toji smut #toji x reader #fushiguro toji #ryomen #naoya zenin #y/n #jjk x y/n #choso kamo #choso #sukuna #satoru gojo #toji zenin #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk gojo #jjk toji #jjk choso #jjk naoya #jjk sukuna

[cartierre]

ELECTRIC FEEL | ob3

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU ollie bearman x fem!reader

side note: does anyone know where to edit good fake instagram stories because i just had to edit them myself and they look so weird because i couldn't find the right font and sizes and all that

♡ liked by olliebearman,frederikvestiofficial and 7,392 others

tagged: olliebearman

yourusername get yourself a friend who takes you with them on their work trips

view all 23 comments

olliebearman my head is itchy ⤷ yourusername our guide told you to wear the keffiyeh to not get a sunburn on your scalp you idiot ⤷ olliebearman the material was itchy as well! ⤷ yourusername you just wanted an excuse for me to scratch your head

user1 are we just going to ignore the way y/n stares at ollie in the last picture? ⤷ user2 they're been friends since forever ⤷ user3 i'm usually not one to say "boys and girls can't just be friends" but those two are for sure not just friends

frederikvestiofficial i hope you take good care of my future teammate ⤷ yourusername i've been taking care of this boy since elementary school, i take my job very serious

♡ liked by yourusername, dinobeganovic_, maya_weug and 35,294 others

tagged: maya_weug, dinobeganovic_, jameswharton_official, yourusername

olliebearman training camp in the dolomite's was so fun with the ferraridriveracademy ! (and y/n snuck in as well)

view all 53 comments

yourusername i'm basically part of the driver academy, just without the driving part ⤷ olliebearman some would say driving is the important part ⤷ yourusername and yet they still keep up with me :)

user4 why is y/n literally everywhere ⤷ user5 literally like what is she even doing here?

user6 where's arthur? ⤷ user7 y/n was able to come but arthur wasn't while he's literally actually part of the academy? the sense is not sensing

♡ liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc and 6,985 others

tagged: olliebearman

yourusername my little bear is growing up

view all 38 comments

user8 obviously she's at bahrain ⤷ user9 i'm just asking myself if she goes to school. she's always travelling with ollie, where does she get her education? ⤷ user10 maybe she's being home schooled? ⤷ user11 she graduated 2022 ⤷ yourusername seeing as you're all so interested in my private life: i'm taking a gap year before going to university

olliebearman i guess i'm a big bear now ⤷ yourusername don't get ahead of yourself, you're not a formula one driver yet. until then, you remain a little bear to me! ⤷ olliebearman yes ma'am

user12 arthur what are you doing here

♡ liked by arthur_leclerc, dennis_hauger and 7,001 others

yourusername the easter bunny brought me a great gift this year

view all 45 comments

user13 the way i know this isn't ollie because he's with his family and not in monaco breaks my heart ⤷ user14 he didn't even like the post, i wonder what happened ⤷ user15 maybe you're all just reading too much into it. they were never together, she's allowed to date someone else if she wants to

♡ liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, lorenzotl and 170,389 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, lorenzotl

arthur_leclerc easter break with my family ❀

view all 365 comments

user16 excuse me, is he saying y/n's part of his family? ⤷ user17 i don't like where this is going

user18 NO MICHAEL NO THIS IS SO NOT RIGHT

yourusername thank god i took french in school ⤷ arthur_leclerc i don't know if you can call that french, mon amour (my love) ⤷ user19 NO NO NO ⤷ user20 him calling her mon amour (my love)... i cannot anymore this just feels so wrong

♡ liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc and 6,304 others

tagged: olliebearman

yourusername ollie and i are not fighting, dégage! (piss off!)

view all 67 comments

arthur_leclerc i should stop teaching you french curse words ⤷ yourusername non tu ne le feras pas (no you don't)

user21 paint me confused ⤷ user22 she's dating arthur (probably) and is still friends with ollie. what is there to be confused about? ⤷ user23 something just doesn't feel right. ollie isn't even commenting, just liking, as if he just agrees because he doesn't want y/n to be sad ⤷ user24 chill y'all, you don't know how their friendship works. ⤷ user25 not you all just assuming things you don't know about

user26 i'm just happy seeing ollie and y/n back together, no matter if it's just as friends or anything else :) ⤷ user27 jesus christ, they're JUST FRIENDS. she's literally dating arthur?

#ollie bearman #ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman imagines #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman fanfiction #ollie bearman x y/n #f2 instagram au #f2 social media au #f2 imagine #f2 imagines #f2 x reader #f2 x you #f2 x y/n #f2 fanfiction

[bloggingboutburgers]

Hey, allo anon with an ace partner here. I wanted to say thank you so much for the well wishes! I figured I would send this in here again, so anyone else who is curious about what this experience looks like from the other side can see it.

My girlfriend came out to me a little over 2 years into our relationship. At the time it surprised me a lot, because she'd never given me any signs that she wasn't enjoying what we were doing. After we talked more I understood that she wasn't repulsed by sex and she didn't hate it, but she didn't really love it either and wanted to stop doing it for a while (so a sex-neutral ace).

Honestly, at the time, I did get anxious about it. Not just because of social conventions, but because I had viewed sex as an important bonding part of our relationship. I don't do well with change, and I was super worried about how a lack of sex would change our dynamic. I also had some insecurities about my own body, and my girlfriend admitting that she didn't see me as sexy was upsetting. But after speaking to my therapist, I realized that I was projecting my own issues on to the relationship. So I spoke with her again, and she reassured me that she wanted to be with me, and that she was confiding these feelings because she trusted me. She likes how I look, she just doesn't have the same sexual impulses I do.

So, I realized this was pretty much like cuddling. I love physical touch a lot, and I want to cuddle for a much longer time than she does. I like it when someone lies on top of me. She doesn't want me on top of her chest during cuddling. She still cuddles with me, but she tells me when she's satisfied, and we stop.

A few months went by, and I noticed that she wasn't spending any less time with me; she was actually spending more. We would still call every evening when we didn't meet up in person, we would still joke around, and she still told me she loved me and did everything she could to show it to me. We also began trying out new stuff together, and playing games and watching stuff more often. We also still had plenty of physical intimacy with things like cuddling and kissing, which made me really happy.

I realized that I didn't feel like anything was missing from the relationship. I just needed her to show and tell me she loved me in the ways she normally did. Sure, I am still attracted to her that way, but it wasn't something that would make or break the relationship.

It's been years since she came out, and at this point, I never expect anything sexual. It happens rarely, and I always check in with her multiple times before and during. We stop at any point she tells me. There are quite a few hard boundaries about what is and isn't off limits, and I always keep them in mind. I would rather satisfy myself forever than make her uncomfortable, and she knows it.

It's been over 5 years and we are still going strong. I am hoping to ask her to marry me in the next few years, because honestly, I can't picture wanting anyone else by my side. She is kind, funny, beautiful, intelligent, and treats me well. I could never ask for anything more from a partner.

Thank you SO MUCH for sharing. I myself definitely lack knowledge of what it feels like from an allo's perspective, so this was very educational for me, but beyond that... You have no idea how much hope this gives me.

From you being aware of how much sex meant to you in the context of your relationship and still being fine without it, to just... Heck, even your therapist for not blaming her for the situation. Therapy is still very much, in my country at least, an area where the absence or lower levels of sexual attraction will be hastily labelled as something wrong physically or mentally, so... Yeah, the amount of relief I felt reading that, you have no idea. And I can only imagine how much your partner appreciates it too.

Honestly I teared up a bit reading this - I sincerely wish you guys all the best and I hope you have a bright future ahead! (Also fun fact, seems you guys have been together as long as my partner and I have, it's nice to be able to relate to that too hehe^^)

#anon #asexual #ace #allosexual #thank you so much for sharing

[amourdivine]

୨ ♡ ୧︰ TAROT 101: developing your intuition.

Hello lovelies, welcome to the first post of my Tarot 101 series! After receiving a few questions, I decided to incorporate a series of tips and tutorials for other self-taught readers. Today, I'm answering a follower's asks sent in my DM's. I'm tackling it separately, so it makes more sense to other people to read it. PS: Since this is a major work in progress and I'm not an all-knowing, almighty entity, please provide feedback, comments or concerns you might have! Thank you.

☁️ ˚ NAVIGATE ༉ ‧

INSTAGRAM ୭ YOUTUBE ୭ MASTERLIST ୭ PAYHIP

How you develop your intuition and psychic abilities while reading tarot?

There is not one size fits all. While many readers recommend connecting to oneself, that's just the basis of it, really, but the main concept is to look at yourself, compassionately. Without the judgment of our everyday lives and the chaos of getting things right in the first attempt. You cannot be honest with yourself (or your intuition), if self-denial is the state you're living in. Or worse: if you view the truth as punishment.

It's always going to be a journey of discovery, and the first thing about spirituality is that you need to keep an open heart to the magic. Skepticism may get you far ahead in your career or financial matters, but when it comes to intuition, you can't grasp onto logic all the time.

With tarot, it's a little more practical: learn and lean into the cards. Notice I didn't say memorize, because many of us are busy enough with our everyday schedules. Just tap into them. Look at them. What does The Lovers remind you of? Maybe it takes you to the story about the Garden of Eden. Or- maybe it reminds you of your parents, their golden youth before marrying.

Again. No judgement. Let your stream of consciousness free. A huge part of reading tarot is allowing your imagination to run wild. Although the Devil card can symbolize obsession or addiction at first, take into account the spread, the topic. The context. What is your body telling you about the images you see?

We often underestimate the symbolism behind the cards. Without considering the traditional meanings,take one card out of your deck and just look at it. What colors are prominent? What do these colors represent in modern society? Do these people look happy? Are there any people at all? Where are they? Let your mind weave a story.

As a tarot reader, what you do on daily basis for intuition and tarot reading? What practices, book, or some kind of information which help you for tarot readings?

There are many things that have helped me, personally, but I'm going to mention some of the best practices I've seen, both for myself and for others.

› Stay creative. If it means drawing, writing, or painting, then stay creative. Find whatever little (or big) ways you can express your creativity. Remember you don't have to be "good". You can just be. Creativity exists in a lot of ways.

› Engage with other readers. Observe them. You can find a tarot reader that deeply resonates with you and watch how they read. Test if it works for you. Remember this is your practice, it's your sacred space, so you don't have to follow someone else's rules.

› Read, if and when you can. I personally recommend the book "History of Tarot" by Isabelle Nadolny, but not everyone can afford books or the time to read them. There are plenty of Youtube tutorials and free guidebooks on Biddy Tarot, for example. I also love Servant of The Fates' blog. They're both different and great, reliable sources.

› Start small. You can pull one card a day. Get a journal, write its meaning (or what it means to you) and record your progress. In a few months, when you return to it, you might find it surprising.

› Let yourself not know everything. No one does. Sometimes, you'll need to pause, go back to a guidebook and read the meaning all over again. Other times, you'll look at the spread and feel nothing. That's okay too. We're not meant to know all the answers.

Is meditation really important for reading tarot? Why? How much time do you spend daily for tarot readings and spiritual practices?

Since this is more of a personal matter, I'll be talking about myself. I don't meditate as often as most readers. Three times a month, maybe? I have a busy schedule and I can only meditate before bed, if I'm not too sleepy. Many people find that meditation makes them anxious or they're not able to fully let go. Other people find it that being in silence or taking a walk is more useful to them. Relaxation and meditation come in many, many forms. The important thing is to nurture your body and soul more than to adhere to rigid rules.

However, when it comes to saving time for readings or spiritual practices, I don't set rules for myself. It never works for me.

I let it flow. Sometimes, I go weeks on end without really consuming tarot content and I bond with my decks occasionally. And other times, I'm reading daily, journaling and trying to improve my skills. Since I have a billion other things to care for, I'm not always able to prioritize tarot as much as I'd like, but the important thing is to stay passionate, stay curious and get back to it. Better late than never.

When you're getting started, let yourself try. If you get it wrong, at least you'll be one step closer to getting it right.

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

#pick a card #tarotblr #tarot reading #pick a card reading #tarot #pac reading #tarot witch #witchblr #tarot community #tarot reader #tarot tips #witch tips #divination #tarot cards #spirituality #mine. #series: tarot 101 #tarot 101: 001

[sebastianwallows]

You Can Always Learn

Ominis Gaunt x Reader

Summary - Anon request for "How about a private moment or two where Ominis says he doesn't understand the point in trying to dance since he can't see it anyway. So you decide to help him by getting as close as possible and having him follow your movements with his hands on your body as you move"

Word Count - 832

Warnings - none

The Yule ball was coming up and it gave Ominis a pit in his stomach. You deserved to go and enjoy the once in a lifetime opportunity. Not only would he not be able to appreciate your efforts into your appearance, but he feared he wouldn't be able to properly dance with you either.

He had been telling Sebastian to take you in his stead. He didn't want to embarrass you or himself, but he didn't think he could handle knowing Sebastian was taking his place all night.

That's how you found him in the Undercroft. He looked sad and distant.

You thought you could cheer him up by telling about the dress clothes shopping you had gotten done in Hogsmeade. You were so excited to describe everything you tried on to him, but your real selection you were planning on keeping a secret.

You took a seat next to him and grabbed his hands excitedly, "Ominis there were so many beautiful options. I looked really silly in the really extravagant ones. Surprisingly bright mustard yellow and ornate lace isn't for me," you teased. You frowned at the small smile he threw at you.

"What's wrong? I don't want to talk about myself while you're sad."

He sighed deeply and dropped his chin to his chest, "I don't know if I can go to the ball with you." His voice was soft and melancholy. It made your feel like it was about to break.

"What? What are you talking about?"

He turned his gaze to you and cupped your cheek, "Y/N. I won't be able to give the experience you deserve. You'll be stuck on the sidelines all night because of me. You deserve a spotlight in the middle of the floor."

You raised your eyebrows at him, placing your hand of his, "Ominis, is this because there's the coordinated dancing? I don't care about any of that. It wouldn't mean anything to be there without you."

"I don't want to be embarrassment. And I want you to shine like you always do wherever you go. Even if it's not dressed in yellow." You laughed at his sheepish expression.

"You could never embarrass me more than I already embarrass myself on a daily basis. I don't expect you to do anything you don't want to, including dancing if you're too nervous. But if you want to try we can practice down here."

For a moment he looked at you terrified, "I - I don't want you to see me looking stupid."

"Ominis. You won't look any worse than any of the other boys stepping on the professor's toes even as they stare right at them."

"Well, I would like to think that if I could see then that wouldn't happen."

"Then you're already the strides ahead of them all since you actually care."

You tugged at his arms to pull him up, "Come on, I'm not gonna make fun of you. I want to teach you so you can wipe that grim look off of your face. You're too pretty it doesn't suit you." You pinched his cheek and grinned at him turning pink.

You led him to an area of the room that had the most open space.

"Okay, so if you want to put both of your hands on my hips to help feel the movement that's okay. I think your hands are the easiest part to figure out later."

He grabbed you firmly where your hips met your thigh, rubbing gentle circle with his thumb as he pulled you much closer. The proximity and determined look on his face took your breath away.

You bite your lip and tell him you love him which makes him smile.

"I'm not a professional here, but I've watched everyone else so I think I have a good enough idea to teach you. I'll start out really slow and count for you, so if you can try to follow where my foot is going, maybe by keeping your toes on mine you can feel the directions."

He nodded, looking down completely focused. You started to count, with no particular rhythm, but to help him get the hang of the movements themselves.

You were surprised at how easy he seemed to pick it up, how natural it felt with him. It was way better than the practice partner you had been stuck with. You started to count and hum the music between steps, easing in to a comfortable loop with Ominis.

You had kept your eyes on the steps, hyper-focused on making sure you were doing it correctly yourself until you looked up and saw a peaceful expression on his face.

He leaned his forehead into yours and place met your lips in a tender kiss. He massaged his fingers into our hips while he slid his other hand up your side and down your arm before pulling your hand off of his shoulder into into his own.

"Maybe this won't be so bad."

#ominis guant #ominis #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt x mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy x mc

[lost-walmartbag]

Warning: Swearing

Background: You finally talk

Status: Ongoing

Previous part

Next part

Peace by your side: Chapter three

"We have to talk," Kyle said as he took long strides to catch up to me as I walked toward the front gates of the school. It didn't take him long to catch up. Curse those stupid long legs.

"I don't have the English homework," I mutter keeping my eyes ahead of me. Come on Kyle, I know you're smart take the hint!

"You know that's not what this is about." He said, clearly not taking said hint.

Maybe I can start running? No, he'd catch up. What if I trip him? No that's mean. Well.....so is ignoring him but this is necessary.

I try walking faster but five long fingers wrap around my upper arm to stop me. I shut my eyes tightly hoping to disappear into thin air. I think my heart is pounding but all I can feel is fire where he's touching me right now.

Big, long, skinny fingers that I can feel even through the fabric of my sleeves. It's so hot, too hot, but that doesn't stop a shiver from going up my spine. He shouldn't be making me feel like this. But I can't tell him to let go. My brain was screaming for me to tell him that this was way too much but I couldn't.

I never thought I would feel this again. Feel his touch; I almost forgot what it felt like and now I'm terrified to go back to not feeling it. I let out a shaky breath trying my best to compose myself before I could speak but he beat me to it.

"Y/N. I want to talk. I know it's been forever and I'm sorry." He said, almost pleading with me.

"K-kyle..." I said, my voice doing that weird crack it did when I would speak in front of the class.

"Just hear me out ok? Can we...go to the park? Right now? Get some privacy?" He asked softly. His voice made him sound so small, he was fragile. I made him that way.

I open my eyes and look up at him. His curls were falling around his face, shining like honey in the sun. He was biting his lip nervously like he did when we were kids and his eyes...God, his eyes. They were this deep shade of green that I didn't even know existed. But it was the look in them that sucked all the air out of my lungs.

He looked tired. Exhausted really. Like he hadn't slept in days. Not there were bags under his eyes or anything else on his face that would lead one to that conclusion. It was all in whatever was hidden in that deep green and I was the only person on Earth close enough to see it now.

I felt myself nod before I knew my brain even told it to. I heard him let out a shaky breath he must have been holding in while waiting for my answer. HIs eyes softened and he finally pulled his hand back. I felt myself shiver again because I've never felt more cold without his touch.

We stared at each other for a long minute almost begging the other one to break the eye contact. Finally, I did. I lowered my head and began walking towards the park. He heard him mutter something under his breath but I couldn't make it out.

We walked in silence as we made our way to the park. The sound of our footsteps crunching against the leaves on the sidewalk made it more bearable. I used to love that sound as a kid.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

It's like he was doing it on purpose. I was definitely stepping on way fewer leaves than he was. I looked down at his feet and sure enough, it was like he was trying to step on as many as he could.

"You like the sound right? You did when we were kids." He said softly. "Sorry... I'll stop."

He remembered all that? I felt a smile spread across my face, far bigger than the sentence deserved. I looked up to meet his eyes and he spotted my smile immediately. A smile of his own spread across his lips.

"You remember that?" I whispered.

"Of course." He said a snort. "You used to have this toy leaf that would sound like crunching leaves when you would squeeze it."

"You used to hate it," I said with a chuckle.

"No. I used to hate when we would fall asleep and you would roll over it every five seconds." He was right. When we would have our sleepovers we slept in the same bed, but I couldn't sleep without that stupid leaf.

"Our sleepovers would have been better without it."

"It wasn't horrible, and you wouldn't have been able to sleep without it." He said with a smile. "I liked knowing you felt safe or whatever.."

I always felt safe being with Kyle. It wasn't the leaf that did it.

"Yeah I guess.." I mutter, looking down at my feet as we walked.

Kyle let out a sigh and I heard him run a hand through his hair. "What are we doing Y/N?"

My body tensed up and I looked for anything for anything to change the topic. "The ducks are back," I said with a shaky voice.

"Y/N, come on." He said softly, putting his hand on my arm. "What are we doing? You've been basically ignoring me for years. We were best friends I can't just act like you don't exist."

"We've. We've been ignoring each other. Don't put this only on me." My voice cracked as I held back as many stupid emotions as I could.

"I've never ignored you." He said softly.

I snap my head up and look at him. His eyes were already on me and I feel like he was looking into my very being. Never ignored me? Are you kidding me? It can't be my fault this happened.

"You never ignored me? We haven't spoken in years! Are you saying it's all my fault?" I'm yelling. I know he hates that but why would he say that? How could he blame me?

"Y/N I'm not blaming you but I just-"

"No. I tried. I would have been fine talking to you after everything happened but you didn't want to!"

I could tell he was frustrated but I didn't care. My fault my fault my fault. That's what he's telling me that's what he thinks of me. He thinks I'm th-

He released a frustrated groan and I felt his hand under my chin and his body so close to mine I was burning up. I looked up at him and his lips were pressed into a line as he studied my face.

Too close. So close

"I may have fucked up letting you act like this for as long as you have but I have never once ignored you." He said, his lips turning downward and his thumb brushing against my bottom lip. "I could never do that. Not to you."

A/N: I know. I know. I disappeared. I'm sorry. Seasonal depression is no joke. But I'm kinda back. I wanna keep writing and you guys have been sending in some amazing requests that really make me want to write more than ever. I really hope you guys had a great holiday and a great new year. Wishing you all the love of 2024 and hope my stories are a part of it. Love you all and thank you for reading my stories from 2023 to now 💚💚💚💚💚💚

Taglist: @southparkynnn @stephs-inluv @weird0o0 @jessiegerl @ringa-starr @bakusquadobsessed

#south park #south park x reader #fanfic #south park x you #x reader #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader

[oizysian]

III. DON’T FALL IN LOVE WITH HER

All Eyes on Me masterlist

Word count: 2.5k

•

The next few days were exhausting. Brie took me all over LA, or at least that's what it felt like.

We went shopping, went out to eat at restaurants I'd never try by myself, and went sightseeing at the typical tourist attractions the state had to offer.

It was now the night of the party and, quite frankly, I was terrified. I was in my hotel room, pacing, waiting for Brie to come and pick me up, but I wasn't even dressed yet. I couldn't choose an outfit to save my life. She told me it was casual, but what is casual to a bunch of celebrities?

I bit my lip as I examined the clothing I brought with me. It was mostly graphic tees, hoodies and joggers that I owned, so casual is all that I really had anyway. I just didn't want to look or feel out of place.

I took a random shirt and a pair of black joggers and went into the bathroom, cleaning up a bit before getting dressed. As I reentered the living area there was a knock on the door, no doubt it was Brie.

I opened the door and there she stood, dressed just about as casually as I was. She looked me up and down and shot me a sly smile.

"Lookin' good, Y/N."

"Thanks." I smiled, moving to the side so she could enter the room. "You look really good too. Lemme just grab my phone and we can go."

She nodded at my words, standing at the door as I walked over to the bed and grabbed my phone and hotel key off the nightstand. I pat my pockets, checking for my wallet and double checking that I had everything before turning back to her and gesturing for her to leave.

"Ladies first." I smirked and she scoffed at me.

"Then why am I leaving before you?"

"That's 'cos I'm a gentlewoman and you're not."

"Yeah, 'cos gentlewomen wear snapbacks to parties."

"Wait," I stopped dead in my tracks and she turned to look at me. "Should I not? I could take it off."

She approached me, looking at my face intently. She reached up to grab me by the chin, turning my head in different directions so she could see me from all angles. It was a little intimidating to be honest. She gave me a small smile and tapped my nose gently.

"It suits you. You look cute. C'mon."

I watched her walk down the hall towards the elevator for a split second before following her, closing my room door securely behind me. What the hell was that about? I shook myself out of my thoughts and joined her in wait for the elevator to reach our floor.

"You excited?" She asked, staring straight ahead at the closed doors.

"Yeah," I smiled slightly, thinking about all the things that could possibly happen tonight. "I like making new friends. I'm just not very good at it."

"Selling yourself short again." She shook her head and gave me a playful smirk. "Don't you remember what happened last time?"

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks at her words. Despite waking up with a hangover the next day, I did remember that she wanted to kiss me that night.

"Yeah, you struck me down in cold blood." I teased and she laughed underneath her breath, not wanting me to know she was laughing.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened for us. We entered and went down to the lobby, where she had a car waiting for us out front.

"You're not driving?" I asked and she shook her head.

"I plan on drinking, so I asked my usual driver to take us. Frank, this is Y/N. Y/N, Frank." She introduced us and I waved to him shyly as we both got into the backseat.

"How far is it?"

"From here?" She thought for a second. "About 10 minutes."

"Where are we going?"

"A lot of questions tonight, huh?" She bumped our shoulders and I bumped hers right back, causing her to laugh. "The producers of the film rented out this small club for the night so the cast, crew, and whoever else was invited could party without an audience."

She looked at me from the corner of her eye and I tried not to notice how often she actually looked at me.

"You're probably the only person that'll be there with absolutely no Marvel connections at all."

"You're my Marvel connection." I smiled up at her and she shook her head, clearly amused with me.

"I sure am."

We sat in silence for a few moments before finally pulling up at the club. She said "small" and I expected it to be small. This was huge.

"C'mon." She called to me and I realized I was still sitting in the car while she was already waiting outside.

I climbed out and looked up at the building before I felt her tug on the sleeve of my shirt, dragging me to the front door. We entered with no issues, her being Brie Larson and me being attached to Brie Larson. She kept me close as we walked through the crowds of people, and I suddenly became very aware of just how many people it took to work on a movie.

I nervously clung to her arm, not really being used to large crowds all so close together like this. There was almost no room to breathe.

She greeted people as we made our way to the back end of the club where she had obviously spotted her former co-stars. She waved animatedly at people I couldn't see and picked up her pace, which I did my best to match. She had energy I could only dream of.

In front of us was a few tables put together with a bunch of people just talking, drinking, and enjoying each other's company. It would seem like a normal scene, except for the fact that all of these people were some of Marvel's greatest actors.

Brie introduced me to everyone generally and I waved, completely overwhelmed at the amount of people I was meeting and I was momentarily thankful that I already knew most, if not all, of their names. She then took me around and introduced me to her friends personally and I did my best to keep my cool.

They were all very nice to me, very polite and Chris Evans even offered to buy me a drink, which I accepted. While he was off fetching me a drink of some kind, Brie introduced me to the last group - the one that got my stomach all tied up in knots.

"Y/N, this is Scarlett, Colin, Elizabeth, and Robbie."

"H-hi." I stuttered like an idiot, my eyes glued to the green-eyed beauty sitting not ten feet away from me.

She smiled brightly, extending her hand out for me to shake. She was the only one that offered her hand to me and I took it, hoping that my palm wasn't sweaty and that I wasn't shaking too badly.

Her hands were small and soft, quite like my own, and it kind of felt like they fit perfectly together.

"Brie told me she was bringing someone special with her." I gave Brie a look and she shrugged.

"Are you guys dating?" The man beside Elizabeth spoke and she elbowed him in his side, which he ignored.

I shook my head and a moment later Brie spoke.

"Robbie, people have friends. You should get some and see what it's like."

My eyes widened at her words. She had a smile on her face and Elizabeth looked embarrassed. Robbie, on the other hand, seemed used to Brie's banter and completely ignored her, going back to sipping on his beer.

Chris approached us with my drink and I thanked him. He took note of the awkward tension between Elizabeth and Brie and shook his head, walking away to hang out with everyone else. Oh god, why did Brie have to open her mouth and make things tense?

"I'm gonna get another beer." Robbie got up and made his way over to the bar, leaving us alone for the moment.

"Do you want a drink?" I asked Elizabeth and she shook her head.

"No, I'm driving tonight. Come sit!" She pat the spot next to her and I sat down, my whole body shaking with excitement and nervousness.

Brie stood for a moment before sitting on the other side of me, chatting up Scarlett and Colin.

"So, tell me about yourself." Elizabeth spoke to me and I nearly spit out my drink. She was actively trying to get to know me.

"Um ... well, what do you wanna know?" I chuckled nervously, swirling my drink around to distract myself from making a fool out of myself.

"Anything. Everything." She leaned her elbow on the table and placed her head in her hand, her eyes completely focused on me. "Brie says you met playing video games? Do you make them for a living?"

I shook my head, placing the drink on the table so I could discreetly fidget with my hands under the table.

"I play them, actually. Live for people to watch."

"What kind of games do you play?"

"All kinds. Do you play?"

"Oh no," she smiled at me. "But Robbie does sometimes so I know a little bit about them."

I nodded in understanding, bringing one of my hands back up to grab my drink and take a sip.

"If you ever want to learn more, I'm your gal. I-I mean, I can show you how to play stuff. Like CoD."

"CoD?" She questioned. If she noticed that I was nervous she didn't make it obvious.

"Call of Duty. Sorry, I'm so used to being around gamers that I forget about normal people sometimes." I laughed and she scrunched up her nose.

"I'd love to learn. I'm really competitive so I might become a monster when we play."

"I'm only competitive when it comes to Zombies. I'm not much of an online player."

"Is that how you met Brie?"

"Playing CoD? No. We played Fortnite. Well, actually we met because -"

Robbie returned at that moment, plopping down on the other side of Elizabeth and wrapping his free arm around her shoulders. She moved from her leaning position and sat up straight.

"I think I know you." Robbie spoke, pointing at me with his bottle.

"Do you?" I questioned, unsure as to how he could possibly know me.

"Yeah, Twitch made a post about you on Twitter the other day, didn't they? Saying how you raised $5,000 for charity with that one over there." He gestured to Brie and I nodded at his words.

"Yeah, that was me." I chuckled nervously, taking another sip of my drink.

"You raised $5,000 for charity?" Elizabeth asked surprised and I nodded.

"Brie helped though." I laughed.

"That's amazing." She spoke softly, awe evident in her gaze.

"Y/N here is amazing, Liz." Brie turned to butt into our conversation. "She organized the whole thing herself. I just weaseled my way in there for fun."

Brie nudged me with her elbow and I looked at her. She gestured to Elizabeth with her head and smiled.

"Tell Lizzie what character you played as when we played Fortnite."

My eyes shot down to the liquid in my glass, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Who?" She questioned, a smile gracing her beautiful face as she looked at me.

"Scarlet Witch." I mumbled and she placed her hand on my thigh, bouncing excitedly in her seat.

"Are you a fan?"

I shook my head and her expression went from excited to confused.

"Not of her." I looked up into her eyes and smiled, noticing the light blush that colored her cheeks.

"Y/N is a BIG admirer of yours, Liz."

I shot Brie yet another look and she smiled widely, taking a sip of the drink I hadn't realized that she had.

"I-I just ..." I tried to think of something to say to save myself. "I think you're beautiful."

Y/N, shut up.

"And smart and funny."

Elizabeth smiled, biting her lip and scrunching up her nose again. Holy shit, I was going to fall in love.

"Well, thank you, Y/N. I think you're beautiful and smart and funny too."

I completely malfunctioned at that very moment. She giggled at my reaction and I did my best to not turn into a puddle of mush at the sound.

"How long are you gonna be in LA?"

"Only another day or so."

"We should grab lunch before you go! It'll be fun."

"Y-yeah, sure." I smiled and she turned to grab her purse, digging around inside of it before pulling out her phone.

"Here," she handed it over to me. "Give me your number and we can meet up."

I stared at the phone in her hand for a moment before taking it from her, putting my name and number in her contacts before handing it back. She smiled at her phone before looking back up at me. If Robbie wasn't draped across her at the moment I probably would've gotten closer to her.

"Where do you live?"

"New York."

"New York! My sisters live there - I visit all the time!" She was really excited and I wasn't sure why. Did she really like me that much already?

"They have a clothing line, right? The Row?"

She nodded excitedly, clearly proud of the empire her sisters had built. We talked for a while with the occasional interruption from Robbie and Brie, the both of them a little more than tipsy.

When Brie became more intoxicated than I could handle, I apologized to Elizabeth, telling her I would be taking Brie home. She promised she'd text me in the morning and gave me a hug before I dragged Brie's drunk ass out of the club and over to the car.

I managed to get Brie up to my hotel room, stumbling and tripping over our own feet as we made our way over to the bed. I dropped her half conscious body onto the bed and stood in front of her for a moment, deciding that I would sleep on the pullout couch tonight instead of bunking with her.

I turned to fix up the couch when I heard Brie shuffling around.

"Y/N," she called to me, now sitting up on the bed. "Come here."

I approached her and she grabbed my waist to steady herself as she looked up at me.

"Did you have fun?"

"I did." I smiled down at her, pushing gently on her shoulders so that she would lay down and sleep. "We can talk about it tomorrow. You need sleep now."

She grabbed me by my arms and pulled herself up, pressing her lips to mine sloppily. I stood in shock as she kissed me, not even thinking to respond in any way. She pulled away from me, licking her lips and looking down at the ground before speaking.

"You really like her, don't you?"

"What?" I finally snapped out of my stupor, realizing she was now laying down on the bed, falling asleep.

"Don't fall in love with her." She murmured softly and I just stared at her as she fell asleep.

It might've been too late for that.

•

@oh-thats-cute @marvelwomen-simp

#oizysian writes #elizabeth olsen x yn #elizabeth olsen story #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x female reader #elizabeth olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen #brie larson x y/n #brie larson x female reader #brie larson x reader #brie larson

[harunayuuka2060]

Ruggie: Feeling nervous, Leona? Shishishi!

Leona: *getting ready to meet his father-in-law* Shut up, Ruggie.

Ruggie: I don't know why you're being serious right now when the queen herself has told you to not think too much about the visit.

Leona: I would've just done that. However, her father is known for annulling his daughters' marriages.

Ruggie: Huh? He what?

Leona: Though I would say what he did was justifiable and for the sake of his children.

Leona: I would still not let my guard down.

Ruggie: Uh-huh. When did you start being a Mr. Romantic?

Leona: *frowns* Just finish those braids, will you?

MC's father: *has an intimidating aura that makes the students dare not to approach him*

MC's father: What's taking him so long?

MC's mother: Calm down. I'm sure he's feeling nervous right now because you suddenly asked to have a meet up.

MC's father: That's because you set our daughter's marriage without me!

MC's mother: Are you yelling at me?

MC's father: Of course not, darling. You know I have a natural loud voice.

MC's mother: Then you better not be using that tone to our son-in-law, or else you'll see yourself flying over the hedge.

MC's father: Yes, darling...

MC: Ma, Pa. *goes to kiss them on their cheeks*

MC's father: How are you, my princess?

MC's mother: *gives him that quick cringe glance*

MC: *chuckles* I'm doing well. I hope it's the same with you both.

MC's mother: Yes. Except your father is being stupid again.

MC's father: Darling...

MC's mother: Anyway, Leona. I see that you've become more beautiful from the last time I've seen you.

Leona: Thank you, Your Majesty.

MC's father: *scoffs*

Ruggie: Wow. Looks like he doesn't like you, Leona.

MC's mother: Just ignore him. And MC, I've heard you have bought two separate islands. What's the other one for?

MC: It will be a vacation island, mother.

MC's mother: A vacation island... That's good to know. Make sure to stay it hidden so your father won't know where it is.

MC's father: Darling... Why would you say that?

MC's mother: And you should always watch your health.

MC: Yes, mother.

Leona: Your Majesty, may I ask you something?

MC's mother: Go ahead.

Leona: After my graduation here in Night Raven College, I would like to marry my wife again. With a proper ceremony this time.

MC's mother: Sure. The marriage has been done in a rush so I completely understand your request.

MC's mother: However, would you also mind listening to my request?

Leona: No, don't worry. What is it?

MC's mother: On the day of your wedding, I want to see my future grandchild.

Leona and MC: ...

MC: Mother.

MC's mother: I'm feeling myself getting weak. And I won't be going out that much in the future, so hopefully, I will still have enough strength to take care of your children.

MC: ...

MC: *smiles* I prefer that mother enjoys her time more.

MC's mother: Oh, shut up. I've had enjoyed mine.

MC's mother: Now would you, Leona?

Leona: ...

Leona: It depends on how wife feels about it.

MC's father: *nods in agreement*

Ruggie: You shouldn't worry about baby #1, Your Highness. Leona is trying to finish his studies early so they could start with it.

Leona: Ruggie!

Ruggie: Shishishi! Why? That's the truth, isn't it?

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst leona #twst ruggie #leona's lioness

[mosneakers]

After tenderly tucking their two darling daughters safely into their warm and cozy beds, Agnes and Erik retire to the master bedroom, preparing to turn in for the night. A bittersweet image is reflected from the luxurious vanity mirror. With each delicate stroke of Agnes's ornate bronze hair brush, her silky golden locks unveil brief glimpses of a hidden frown.

Coraleye beams in awe, watching Agnes's reflection in the mirror. Coraleye: Grandma, you're the epitome of grace and beauty. Look at you! Agnes: [Gently nudges Corarleye with her elbow] Oh quit that, will you.

Coraleye's smile starts to fade. Coraleye: But you look so sad. Even after getting to move back to your home in Sunset Valley? You really weren't excited about having a third baby at this point, were you?

Agnes: I didn't want to be expecting, no. I least I thought I didn't, anyway. Until this night, when I found out I wasn't. That's when the truth was realized.

Coraleye: Oh...

Erik: Aggy, baby, what is it? I thought you didn't want any more kids right now. I figured you'd be glad about your monthly visitor.

Agnes: [Sniffles] I thought so too, darling. I suppose I allowed myself to become excited about the idea. Turns out I'm actually quite disappointed, if I'm being perfectly honest.

Erik continues offering solace to his wife, urging her to confide in him. The spirit of Agnes guiding Coraleye approaches Erik, studying the remaining youth in his features. She gently rests her hand on his chest; though Erik cannot feel her touch, the emotional resonance of the exchange hits Coraleye like a wave, as she wraps her arms around herself in an attempt to hold herself together.

Agnes: He's so young here; What has time done to you, my love? Coraleye, darling, life is awfully short. I want you to always remember, to hold onto your memories and all your heart's desires for as long as you can, and never make the mistake of not listening to them. One day you'll blink, and your memory won't be like it is now.

Coraleye's trembling frown gives way, and tears drop down her rosy cheeks, unable to contain them any longer.

Erik puts on a record, and the vintage melody fills the room. By her hands, Erik leads Agnes to her feet, where he gently wipes the tears from her face. Erik: Let's dance, honey.

Agnes: [Giggles] Erik! What are you doing? It's getting late, we should get to bed. Erik: Aggy baby, if you want a baby, then I've got work to do! We'll figure out the details later, okay? Agnes laughs joyfully as Erik pulls her in closer for a slow dance.

The spirit-guide Agnes smiles at her great-granddaughter lovingly. Her brows furrow as her focus then hones in on Coraleye's tears, still flowing. She gently wipes away a tear and whispers words of comfort.

Agnes: What's the matter, my love?

Coraleye: [Sniffles and wipes eyes] It's just... you two are so incredibly sweet. The love you share is so obvious. The way he looks at you, Grandma! I'm so scared my future won't measure up to yours, or my parents', even. I worry that I'm falling short of the legacy and everything else.

Agnes: Oh, honey... listen to me. Agnes affectionately traces Coraleye's hair behind her ear.

Agnes: You don't have to go about this in the same manner that we did! Forge your own path, dear. The essence of this legacy lies in granting second chances to someone we love, provided they're deemed worthy. It's a profound responsibility for one heart. Understand, the journey won't be simple should you decide to embrace it. Coraleye: ...Should I decide to embrace it.

Agnes: I share this with you not to instill fear, but to equip you for the challenges that lie ahead. Soon, my dear, you'll face a profound pain that may feel insurmountable. Yet, I know you are very capable of weathering it.

Coraleye: [Concerned tone] Grandma, how do you know this? Are you able to see the future? Agnes: The privilege of magic and resurrections isn't taken lightly, and it doesn't come without consequences. Our currency for second chances and love is excruciating pain. Some may see it as a curse, but I find it makes these tender moments all the sweeter. The choice of who is worthy of navigating this journey by your side, is ultimately up to you.

Coraleye: But Grandma... How will I know who that person is? That they can be trusted?

Agnes: You see the way your grandfather looks at me in this moment? That's how I knew, honey. Coraleye ponders for a brief moment, watching them dance gleefully around the room. As their kisses grow more passionate, she senses that her time to observe is running out. Just before the spirit Agnes concludes the session, Coraleye speaks up, her voice breaking.

Coraleye: I... I think I've seen that look before.

#ts4 #MD4season10 #MD4 #Coraleye Darling #RealmOfMagicGetaway #Agnes Darling #Many Moons Ago #Many Moons Ago: Gen 1 #MMA Gen 1: Ch. 16 #Erik Darling #GIF #Persephone Darling #Gwendolyn Darling

[mars-wuz-herez]

Sonic Prime AU

Part 1

What if Sonic died?

!!!Sonic Prime Spoilers ahead!!!!

Amy's point of view

We are in Tails’ lab and for the first time ever it is silent. It's never silent in here. This is the place where we talk, laugh, plan our next move on Eggman and have a good time. We did everything here. But now….

Knuckles: It's silent

Amy: heh you read my mind

Knuckles: I am not used to such silence

Amy: I'm not used to it either

With that we both fall silent. I am sitting at a desk with a computer in front of me. Knuckles is on the other side on the floor looking at the blueprints of the prism trying to figure out more. I take a look at my notes which are one page long. ONE PAGE.

Knuckles: Anything new come up?

Amy (with an annoyed voice): No Knuckles, nothing's new. 

Knuckles: Ok sheesh sorry for asking

Breathe Amy. Breathe. I breathe in 7 seconds and out 7 seconds. I turn to face the Echidna.

Amy: Sorry I just… I'm worried about Sonic but that is not an excuse to lash out at you. I'm sorry.

Knuckles: Ok you are forgiven 

Amy: Thanks

Knuckles: Will you also apologize to Rouge?

Amy: What why?

Knuckles: Well you accused her of something that was not true. If there is anything you have taught me that I remember is that you can not accuse someone else without proof.

I think about it. I don't know how to answer that. I did accuse her which is something I taught the group not to do. It was one of the reasons we all got along. It was one of the reasons we fought so well as a team. 

Amy: We are getting off topic. Did you discover anything new?

Knuckles wants to continue the conversation. I can see it in his body language but he doesn't say anything about it.

Knuckles: I got nothing. Just the same old blueprint of the prism. It is shaped to have 5 pieces all together. Other than that I don't know. 

Amy: Well keep trying.

I hear Knuckles breathe hard but I pretend I don't hear it. I turn back to the computer and search “Paradox Prism” for the millionth time. I have been to most of the websites but maybe I can find something new. I have to find something new. 

Knuckles: Can we take a break?

Amy: A break? Our friend disappeared out of thin air and you want to take a break? No way. Keep researching

Knuckles: Amy we have been at this for hours without a break and have learned nothing new. Maybe some fresh air is what we need before continuing. What do you say-

Amy: If we are going outside it means we have found something useful and we are on our way to tell Tails about it. 

Knuckles: You mean Tails and Rouge?

Amy: No, just Tails.. 

Knuckles: Why are you so against Rouge? She did not do anything wrong.

I rise from the chair I'm sitting on and turn to Knuckles. Was he serious?

Amy: Today we saw our friend disappear like it was nothing and seconds later Shadow came asking about him and then took the prism. The only person who can have a conversation with Shadow without getting into a fight is Rouge and only Rouge! I know she knows something about this mess…. I just….

I feel myself getting more and more mad. Then the water works start forming. Knuckles notices and runs to my side.

Amy (voice breaking): Rouge is the only one….

He puts his hand on my shoulder. I fall to my knees, put my hands on my face and start crying. Knuckles kneels to my side and puts his arm around my shoulder. 

Amy (voice breaking): We saw our friend disappear today, Knuckles. We saw him vanish into thin air without any explanation and in these past hours we have learned nothing useful that can bring him back. What if….what if….

Knuckles: Do not… say it. We will find a way to bring him back. We won't give up until we have found a way to bring Sonic back. If it was one of us he would not rest until he found a way to bring us back. 

Amy (sniffing): Yeah you're right. He never gives up even when things seem impossible. It's one of the things I've always admired about him.

Knuckles: Remember that time where Sonic could not find the Chili dog stand? 

Amy (giggles): Yeah. He did not rest until he found it. We all thought it was ridiculous until he told us Eggman….

I stop talking. That's it! I stand up quickly and face Knuckles

Knuckles: You ok?

Amy: I know how we can get more information about the Prism!

Knuckles gets up.

Knuckles: How?

Amy: Eggman!

Knuckles (raises his fists): Where?

Amy: What no- he's not here. What I meant is that Eggman can give us the answers we have been searching for!

Knuckles: Are you out of your mind? What makes you think Eggman has the answers?.

Amy: Think about it. Eggman used Sonic's speed to create a giant crack in the mountain where low and behold the prism was located. Why go through the trouble of doing that for a shiny rock? He must know something about the prism that we can't find. 

Knuckles: You have a point… but it is Eggman. Even if we were to pay a visit to Eggman, why would he tell us anything? He hates us, especially Sonic. We are enemies after all

I turn and face the computer again. I see the pictures of us along with Sonic. I face the Echidna.

Amy: Eggman won't be easy to talk to let alone get answers from. I don't like it but he is our only lead to discover more about the Paradox Prism and it's one step closer to bringing Sonic back. We aren't going to ignore that. 

Knuckles: You are right. We are not going to ignore that. But if he refuses to tell us anything?

Amy: If he won't tell us then…

I grab my hammer from the floor and grip it tightly.

Amy: …we'll make him tell us

To be continued……..

(None of these characters are mine)

People who wanted to be mentioned:

@mrfrobbert @hawk-has-alot-of-gay-ships @callme-aprilroseisha04

@rainestorm05 @upodubo-reblog @theavo-guac @seaslugdisco

@bun-bie @annoyingcat413 @bee-birb

If you want to be mentioned just say something in the comments.

#my sonic prime au #My writing is so sloppy #sorry bout that #what if sonic died in sonic prime? #sonic prime #sonic the hedgehog #sonic prime spoilers #sonic prime season 3 #amy rose #knuckles the echidna #sonadow prime #Eggman #thanks so much for reading! #writes-from-mars

[explorerofsouls]

This is entirely self-indulgent, so if u don't like it u can ignore it. If u want to, any feedback would be appreciated.

Oh to be a weak helpless catfolk healer, with fat rolling on my wide hips and thick belly, and cute little cat ears that constantly flick around. I would follow around a party of adventurers much stronger than me, because there’s good coin in adventuring and I need money because I love to eat, and any time we settle in a town I immediate run off to stuff my face at all the local inns until my stomach is taut and bulging~

But really all I’m good for is healing, I can’t defend myself at all and I’m honestly pretty cowardly, I drop my staff and run with my ears pinned back the moment anything dangerous actually gets close, so I’m completely dependent on the party to protect me.

One day we’re exploring a deep, winding cave system, and I’m huddled close to an armored back in fright as we tread through a particularly large cavern, able to hear in perfect detail not only the dripping of water against the rough floor, but every creak and shift of stone and far-away clatter or or pitter-patter of unknown monsters. The only lights we have to go by are torches held up high, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

Without warning, there’s a hiss and a screech and all the light goes out, plunging the room into darkness with the clanging of metal and sudden screams of panic— my instincts go into overdrive, fully in flight mode, and I spot a smaller side passage partially hidden behind a large column of stone. I don’t even need the light, my vision works perfectly well in the dark, so I have no problem slipping away from my group and vanishing into the dark.

It could be minutes or hours later that I realize I’ve made a mistake. I don’t know how far or how long I’ve run, my clothes are torn and tattered, and I’m scared and exhausted. Tears spring to my eyes as I stop and turn to look back the way I’ve came, a twisting, natural passageway turning out of sight, but I force my sobs down and get to retracing my steps.

Where I turn here? That way, right?

A half-hour later, and my ears are pinned flat down in distress. I haven’t seen a single thing I recognize, not a trace of my party, and—

Something shifts in the darkness ahead.

I stumble and trip forwards with a yelp of fright, hands and knees hitting the soft, wet ground ahead, and—

Wait. That isn’t right.

The ground under my hands isn’t stone, it’s flesh, warm and soft, and as I try to scramble back my limbs are seized by grasping limbs from the dark— long, dexterous tentacles the width of my arms but magnitudes stronger, curling around my ankles and wrists and dragging my forward to their nest.

I writhe in panic, desperately hoping to get away, sobbing and gasping, but the tentacles are unmoved. I’m quickly nested in a bed of them, surrounded on all sides by squirming, wet tentacles that grasp at my work robes and tear them off like tissues paper, disposing of my undergarments in the same stroke and leaving my supple, soft skin exposed. I shiver, not from cold but from fear— curiously, the air around me is warm and moist and heavy.

The tentacles seem almost curious, tracing all along my skin from my massive hips to my fat belly, my generous bust and chubby neck and face. I’m still sobbing in fear, sure I’m about to be torn apart and consumed by the monster, quickly covered in warm lubricant.

One tentacle finds my face, and I lean my head away as far as I can but it just follows the movement, poking at the edge of my lips. A sudden movement of a tentacle near my dick makes me gasp in shock, and the roaming tentacle takes the invitation and plunges into my mouth.

It’s thick, forcing my jaw wide to fit it in, warm and almost throbbing, tasting strangely salty but not of much else. Attempts to bite down are futile— my jaw is open so wide that I have no power behind the movement, and even my sharp fangs don’t seem to be able to penetrate the tentacle’s skin. It explores my mouth curiously, forcing my tongue aside to scrape at all the corners, but when it hits the back of my throat and I gag it stops and retracts slightly, resting on my rough tongue.

Then, it bulges, swells, filling my mouth with its warmth further, and abruptly spurts something hot and sticky and thick onto my tongue. My eyes blow wide and ears stick straight up in surprise, and then the taste hits my brain—

It tastes good. No, it tastes amazing, likefreshly made buttercream icing: almost sickly in its sweetness, warm and sticky and rich, and my body instinctively betrays me, eagerly gulping down the mouthful before I can really think about what I’m doing.

That’s alright, though; the next mouthful is only a moment behind the last and just as good. It just keeps coming and coming, traveling down my throat to my belly and settling there with a comforting, heavy warmth. My head feels foggier, thoughts harder to reach— why was I so upset, again? I start to suckle on the tentacle filling my mouth, tongue lapping and ears turning from alarmed straightness to happy, lazy flicking. My head fills with fog and my belly fills with nectar, sloshing happily and bulging out my tummy until I look like I’ve eaten a full meal of my favorite fish stew.

As I fully relax, the heat starts to spread from my belly all through the my body. I feel warm inside and out, deep in my throat and my head and especially in my dick, slowly springing to full attention and straining against the air. It feels kind of like a heat, but where heat is painful this is a comfortable warmth, gently enticing my dick to start leaking all over itself and dripping slick onto my pelvis and legs.

A warm, wet heat covers my dick as a tentacle gently envelops the thick shaft. I mewl into the tentacle still dumping nectar in my mouth, hips bucking involuntary as the tentacle begins sucking at my cock, sending my eyes rolling in pleasure. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt— I’m decently experienced with sex, but not very used to using my dick— both from dysphoria and the fact that not many people, catfolk or otherwise, are interested in a spiny penis. My clumsy hands can’t hold a candle to the tentacle’s steady suction— and it’s embarrassingly soon that I’m thrusting needily into it, moaning and mewling, balls throbbing— I cum harder than I ever have, unloading rope after rope of seed into the tentacle, eyes rolling back as I’m sucked off even as I cum. My hips and stomach and tits are jiggling, rolling, bouncing— when I finish I’m still hard as a rock, and the tentacle never stops it’s suction.

The flow of nectar in my mouth tapers off. I mewl and whine in protest, but the tentacle in my mouth is moving again, pressing to the back of my throat and then deeper, reaching down and down and bulging me out til it’s at the entrance to my stuffed stomach. Strangely, I’m not gagging or choking— it feels comfortable, right, to be this full.

A tentacle pokes at my tight asshole, probing, then slowly stretching inside. It should hurt to be that gaped, but again, all I feel is pleasure. I cum again as the tentacle wriggles into my ass, my orgasm prolonged as it find its way through my guts. My full tummy sloshes and jiggles with my movements.

When they’re both nestled deep inside, the movement starts. They pull back before thrusting deeper, their thick lengths dragging against my insides and sending even more pleasure through my body. I cum again at the feeling of them speeding up, bouncing my heavy tits and tummy, and though I can’t see it, their outlines are clearly visible through my neck and torso. They’re each so deep it feels like they should be touching, frotting in the heavy mixture of my belly, weighing me down even more with their mass. I cum again and again, the sucking tentacle happily accepting my seed, until they throb, and swell, and thrust harder and more erratic and hilt deep inside me and cum.

The sheer volume of cum they start spurting is immediately apparent in the bloat of my belly. The sloshing fluid takes my stomach from a hearty meal to three meals, then beyond what I’ve ever swelled to; I look pregnant and ready to pop. The warmth grows and grows, and I cum with the tentacles as they bloat me. By the time they’re done, my stomach looks like I’m about to give birth to a full litter.

It’s strange, though— they still aren’t moving or pulling out. I’m comfortable though, cumming with a short moan— my entire body is sloppy with the tentacles’ lubricant, heavy with seed and nectar and warm, the air comfortable and surrounding tentacles forming a living, loving blanket as they pet my skin and even rub at my ears. The fluid filling me ripples with the force of my purrs.

A bulge travels through the tentacle at my mouth, distending my jaw further as it pushes in and down my throat— the same happens with the one in my ass, rubbing against my walls and my prostate and sending me into another orgasm. More and more identical bulges follow, and it isn’t until they reach my stomach and I feel something heavy and hard pop out until I realize I’m being impregnated, and the knowledge instantly sets me off with a consecutive orgasm. The eggs settle gently into my guts, sloshing around in the fluid surrounding them, and I’m comforted by the knowledge that my future children are safe inside me. A warm, wet feeling on my chest makes me blink in confusion, until I feel two more sucking tentacles latch onto my nipples and start feeding. I’m stuffed overfull with eggs, until even the nectar can’t completely block the feeling of my skin stretching to make room for more of the tentacles’ brood, and I cum and cum and cum, feeding the organism with my seed.

When the eggs stop, I’m so heavy with child that my tummy must weight more than the rest of me combined, spilling out into the support of the tentacle bed and shoving my milk-filled tits against my chin. I’m full of tentacles and milk and nectar and eggs and cum, and I finally pass out comfortably in the embrace of my mate.

I’m proud to be a mother, and I can’t wait until the eggs hatch and the newborn tentacles come crawling out of my throat.

-foxtoy

Oh my god…. @foxtoy17 that was great! I’ve only had fleeting interests in tentacles, but you paint a picture of why they’re hot so well…. You managed to hit a lot of very good side kinks too…… very well done~

#nsft #send me dms #send me asks #hornposting #tentacles #ovipositor #foxtoy