#like I WANT them to kiss. I WANT to draw this. but I can’t rationalize it

[shalpilot]

musings on these dumbasses

#one piece #eustass kid #killer one piece #kid x killer #geese art #like I WANT them to kiss. I WANT to draw this. but I can’t rationalize it #mostly bc I don’t think killer would risk it. #he knows better.

[tojisun]

simon grunts, his chest heaving as he palms at his chub, tracing the twitching muscle of his cock and letting out a hiss at the muted pleasure that razes through him. he shivers at the heated look you give him, your pretty eyes awash with desire, scalding as it trails down the lines of his bulk until it settles on his flesh.

“ah,” you whisper and simon nearly moans at the awe in your voice.

“s’right, baby,” he says, feeling the way he pulses underneath his low-hanging sweats. “s’all f’r you.”

there is a whine that drags itself from the base of your throat, so primal in the way it scratches your vocal cords, and simon has to fist his cock to stop himself from rutting against his palm.

“i can’t,” you whine, pouting, your eyes still trained on his groin. “‘m gonna be late for work.”

“please,” he croaks out, breathless himself. “how about jus’ the tip, love? jus’ give daddy a taste of you ‘round me, yeah?”

simon knows it is playing dirty to pull this card on you—to exploit your one weakness—but simon’s guilt is tucked underneath his stretching need, the desire bloating as it leaks past his rationality, leaving him with thinning restraints.

your sharp inhale is all the answer he needs.

he bites the inside of his cheek to tamp down the smirk dancing to the corners of his lips.

“okay,” you reply, tentative and quiet. “but just the tip, you promise?”

“swear,” simon murmurs.

like a goddamn liar.

he relishes in the squeals dripping from your parted lips, only for them to be muffled into your pillow.

he’s got you on your knees, your front all but pressed flat on the bed, your arms having lost the energy to keep yourself up as simon fucks you from the back. he’s got fistfuls of your ass, using them as sweet, sweet leverage as he manhandles your body back to his cock.

“so good f’r daddy, sweet’art,” he rumbles, his voice so deep it even sounds foreign to him. “so, so fuckin’ good, love.”

he punctuates his words with hard thrusts; drawing his cock out slowly, deliberately torturous so he can watch the way your hole grips at his cock, not wanting to let him go, before punching it back in. he doesn’t stop and keeps pushing his cock past the gummy press of your walls until his hips are pressed flush to the fat of your ass.

then, he repeats the process—sharp snaps of his hips leaving you twitching, and simon watches with a crazed giddiness as your hands uselessly scratch at the sheets as though that could tether you.

he bends forward, his bulk covering your trembling body. “such a cute darlin’ for me, lovie.” he ruts his cock along a particular sweet spot. “say ‘thank you’ to daddy?”

he hears a warbled reply from where your head is pressed to your pillow.

“hmm? wha’s ‘at?”

simon cups a hand on your forehead and carefully pulls, tipping your head up just enough that he can hear you.

he hears a hiccuped sob, then, “than’ you, daddy.”

simon giggles and presses a kiss on the back of your head. “what a good doll y’are.”

something about that makes your body tremble, spasming in his hold, and simon watches with awe as your toes curl, before he has to let go of you at the sudden tightening of your walls. his eyes go white, his ears ringing with a sharp static.

he feels so, so overwhelmed at the expanding euphoria that washes over him, lapping at the synapses from the back of his skull to the cavity of his ribs.

“you came,” simon mutters in awe, his voice passing through his teeth like a gritted hiss. “christ, lovie-”

-

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #cw daddy kink #suns #gushing myself #q

[delirious-donna]

tw: somnophilia and breeding with Zhongli (consenting established relationship), and reader is female. Follows on from this post which is fluff only. The below is far from SFW!!

Zhongli wakes from his short nap to find you still fast asleep and he can’t help but find himself aroused by how you appear. You’ve shifted fully to your back, the shirt you’d borrowed from him earlier that night riding up to expose your soft stomach and inviting thighs. Before he fully comes to his senses, his hand is beneath the flimsy cotton of your panties, slender fingers working deeper between your folds and seeking out your cute little button to toy with. Groaning in his throat at how easily you wet his fingers from such minimal effort, cooing “good girl” beneath his breath. His amber gaze is fixed upon your pretty face, taking in your expressions that morphs in your slumber and wondering how far he could take this.

His cock strains to the max behind his pants, enough to force Zhongli to roll to his stomach and slowly begin to rut against the mattress to find that dose of friction he craves. It’s not enough; it would never be enough because he’s not buried in your perfect cunt. His mind is overrun with taking you, that primal instinct overruling rational thought, and when did your panties disappear? When had he buried his face between your thighs to make out with your pussy? It’s surprising you’re still asleep, not that he is complaining, although he does miss the sound of his name being moaned whilst he sucks on your pert clit and tongues your leaking hole. Slick flows over his skilful tongue and down his tongue, sweeter than any wine and he wants to take you - to breed the sweet little pussy that belongs to him.

Zhongli blinks, opening his eyes to find his raging cock in hand and the tip already wet with spit and dipping past that first tight ring of muscle at your entrance. Your face is contorted in evident pleasure, breathing coming in shallow pants that causes your tits to rise and fall rapidly and your pretty plush lips parted and dewy from how your tongue has licked over them. Your heat is intoxicating, wet silken walls moulding to accommodate his long, girthy dick to perfection. His thrusts are slow and shallow, working you open leisurely so as to not wake you too soon. The thought of having you not rouse until his cum is leaking out your hole causing his eyes to roll, tugging harshly on his lower lip.

You finally come to after a particularly loud and aggressive grunt, your eyes snapping wide with a gasp in your throat. The sight that greets you is enough to steal the remaining breath from your lungs. Dark ruffled hair, burning amber irises and cheeks stained red. Your lower half rests on his lap, cunt swallowing his cream coated cock and you clench down hard enough that you trip into an orgasm you weren’t prepared for. Laughter rumbles in your ear, cool air kissing your burning chest before a molten tongue is wrapped around your nipple. Zhongli continues to snap his hips forward whilst he suckles you. Holding you still through the relentless storm of pleasure that crashes over you. Sobbing at how sudden it is and hissing when he draws back with a nip of his teeth so he can rasp directly in your ear.

“Good morning, beloved… you looked so perfectly peaceful and inviting. I simply had to breed you, my love, but don’t worry if it doesn’t take this time, I can do this everyday if you’ll let me..?”

It’s only then you notice the thick drooling excess of his seed that’s slicking your thighs and staining the sheets. This wasn’t the first round and that thought alone was sinful. How could you refuse? You’d wake like this every chance you could and Zhongli was more than happy to provide.

#delirious writes #zhongli smut #zhongli x reader #morax smut #morax x reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #tw somno #genshin zhongli

[kingkatsuki]

Fucking you like they’re actively trying to make your birth control fail >>>

i want to know exactly what you were thinking !!!

Tw:dubcon

Bakugou knows neither of you are ready for kids, a discussion that’s yet to be had in your relationship together aside from the precautions you both chose to take early on. Condoms paired with your birth control to keep you both safe—

But Bakugou can’t help but think what a waste it is each time he empties his balls inside that annoying piece of latex. His cum sticking to the length of him uncomfortably as he tugs it off to tie it before throwing it away. Ashamed of how often he’s tempted to empty its contents onto your skin, the perfect canvas for his release— or even better inside you.

He’s subtle about it though— starts conveniently forgetting to buy a new box, or replace the wrapper inside his wallet. Knowing exactly how desperate you become when you’re begging for his cock, how lightheaded he makes you without even trying. Bakugou knows he’ll have you begging him to fuck you with the slightest kiss to your clit, his fingers toying with your tight hole as you cry out for something bigger.

He pushes the fat tip of his cock to your slit, dragging it through your folds so he can feel how warm and wet you are. Catching himself against your tight hole as he repeats the motion, waiting for any sign of disapproval as you cant your hips forward.

“Condom, Katsuki—“ He groans at your statement, just as he’s begun to push himself inside you. Furrowing his brows as he pretends to think, knowing all too well that the box inside his bedside table is empty.

“Ain’t got anymore,” He grunts, “Haven’t had a chance to get some.”

Bakugou can see the way you bite the inside of your cheek, silently weighing up your options as he waits for you to tell him to go to the closest kombini for more—

“I’ll go get some, baby.” He rasps, silently sighing in defeat as he starts to pull away from your warm, wet hole.

“No, wait!” You whine, pawing at his bare shoulders as you pull him back, only serving to draw him deeper as he feels for the very first time just how perfect your pussy is raw, “It’ll be okay. I’m on the pill—”

You murmur, as though you’re trying to convince yourself. The desire swirling in your abdomen taking over any rational thought you had before, pliant walls clamping down around him as you urge him to move, “Just pull out, okay?”

His balls tighten as he does everything in his power not to empty them inside you within the first thrust— there’s no fucking way he’ll be able to pull out, not with your pussy creaming all over him like this.

It’s like you’ve ignited a fire deep within him as strong palms are curling under your thighs, drawing a surprised squeal from your lips as he pushes your knees up towards your head. Bakugou’s muscular frame now curled over you as he plants the balls of his feet against the mattress, a depraved growl vibrating deep in his chest as he watches your eyes widen in surprise at the new position.

“Oh, fuck. Katsuki— so deep,” And he has you crying out with ease, your nails leaving dark red welts in their wake as they rake across his back. His balls slap against the curve of your ass with each harsh thrust which has your eyes rolling back into your skull. Unable to control the drool that begins to dribble from your open mouth as he well and truly fucks you dumb.

And of course he can’t help it when he cums inside you, thrusts stuttering as he empties rope after rope of warm cum inside you. Your greedy walls trying to milk him for more, and he stills inside you after. Pressing a kiss to your closed eye before muttering out apologies— except he’s not sorry at all.

Not when he sees his cum leaking out of your poor, abused hole. Still fluttering in the aftershocks of your climax as you continue to push more of it out as it dribbles down the curve of your ass. His fingers twitch as he’s tempted to lean forward to push it back in, convinced there’s no other way he wants you now than permanently stuffed full of his spunk.

His cock already twitching back to life at the sight as it droops hard and heavy towards you, sliding his hips forward as he pushes back inside your sensitive entrance. Cherishing the surprised look on your face as he fucks his cum back inside you, the crude squelch of it enough to solidify the fact that he’ll never wear a condom again.

But it’s all your fault— This is a monster that you’ve created.

#jo thirsts #thirst posts #Bakugou thirst

[lokischocolatefountain]

Hiii if you’re still taking requests, could we have more angsty, jealous Javier? You write his character so good, i love all of it!!! Your married series was absolutely fantastic <3

Javier Peña is not a jealous man. The women he’s with have multiple partners beside him- they’re informants, sex workers, and a lot of times both. He’s no juvenile and doesn’t expect them to not do their job because he can’t share. Besides, there’s a clear transaction with these women- sex in exchange for dollar bills, intelligence in exchange for a visa.

Javier Peña is not a jealous man. At least he doesn’t think he is until he’s with her (the professor he ends up marrying). The relationship starts out casual. She’s a beautiful woman who frequents the restaurant he frequents. They do the decent mating dance of flirtation and buying each other coffee before he takes her back to her place and fucks her thoughts out of her head.

He makes it clear to her that he isn’t looking for something serious. He hasn’t told her the exact nature of her job, but she knows. She has seen the gun on him. She has seen him on a raid, tactical vest on and hand enclosed around his gun. She kicks him out, but only after giving him a kiss and telling him she’d like to do this again. They were on the same page. Until they weren’t.

He’s bad at drawing boundaries. He kissed prostitutes on the forehead, asked them about their young kids and ailing parents, let them drone on about their hopes and dreams. Sure it was important to cultivate a relationship with his informants so that when things got dangerous, they would continue to… inform. But he enjoyed it. He liked knowing the women he slept with, liked asking questions and answering their questions. It was the only human thing left in his life full of violence.

He cannot draw boundaries with her at all. He eats from her refrigerator, drinks her liquor and lies down on her lap and lets her read English literature to him. He picks her up from work sometimes and drops her back the morning after. He fixes her faulty plumbing without even being asked. He finds her carrying heavy bags of groceries and offers to drive her to her place. He takes her grocery shopping and restocks her fridge. He tells himself it’s because he eats so much of her food. Just repaying her.

He’s picking her up from work one night. It boils his blood to learn that he isn’t the only one waiting in the parking area for her. There’s another guy, a professor like her, and he walks with her to his car. He should’ve driven away as soon as he noticed her with another man. But he doesn’t. He stares hard enough to burn a hole in the dress she wore when he first slept with her. It was flattering on her figure, highlighting her best assets— her entire goddamn body. Clearly she wore this dress when she was hoping to get laid. He drives away before she could notice him. He finds someone else that night. Plenty of fish in the sea, right? Except he screams her name when he’s balls deep in Helena.

She’s at their restaurant the next morning, having breakfast and drinking coffee like she didn’t go fuck someone else just last night. He sits at his old table instead of joining her like he always did. She looks a little hurt by it, but quickly fixes her expression to smile at him. Good. Be hurt. He is aware he’s being irrational. And a pig. She was free to sleep with all of Bogotá if she wished. God knows he did. She wasn’t doing anything wrong just like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. But he’s angry at her anyway.

Work takes him to Medellin for days and when he returns, he finds himself at her doorsteps. He feels right at home in her arms, in her pussy, and he doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t want to get up and leave even though everything in him is begging him to leave before it was too late. He struggles between the rational part of him that knows it’s best to leave and the irrational one that wants to pull her to his chest and fall asleep breathing her in. She makes the decision for him.

She’d asked in the nicest possible way to fuck right off. Well, not really. But she might as well have kicked him out. She asks for clarification “what are we doing, Javi?” There is it, he thinks. He was always clear about his intentions with women, but he’s had a few of them believe that they could “fix” him. Whatever the hell that meant. And he had to break their heart, tell them it was just sex like they’d originally agreed. But she surprises him.

She calls him out on his shit, tells him he’s giving her mixed signals with taking her grocery shopping and meeting her up at work. She tells him he can’t have it both ways. “I have a date with a colleague this Sunday. It’ll be weird if I’m with him, thinking about how sweet it was of you to take my car for an oil change. That’s not umm…it’s not fuckbuddy stuff.” It’s boyfriend stuff.

Her drawing the boundaries for him should’ve helped. But god it doesn’t. All he wants to do that week is walk into her university campus and punch that fucker who was taking his girl out on a date. It was stupid, dangerous and reprehensible. But fucking hell, he couldn’t do shit while thinking about her with another man. Would she let the guy fuck her in his car like she let him? Would she cry his name? Would she accidentally let a low Javi slip out of her pretty lips out of habit?

He stops visiting the restaurant. He doesn’t need breakfast anyway. He fucks other women, fucks his own fist, but none of them come close to the euphoria of being inside her, of kissing her and drinking her moans in just as he made her cum on his cock. Nobody comes close. It’s for the best. He cannot afford emotional entanglements. It was for her good that she pulled away when she did. This was no life for anyone and attaching herself to him would mean having to endure his shit.

He can’t stop thinking about her. He freezes in the middle of the fucking street with his gun pulled on some guy because he thinks he saw her in the distance. It’s not her, he knows that. She was in Bogotá and he was in Medellin. It’s not her. But he sees her in everything. He finds himself reading fiction, for fuck’s sake. He finds her panties stuffed into the cushions of his couch and smells it to get himself off. It was creepy as shit, but it’s the hardest he’s come since he stopped seeing her.

He drives by their restaurant and catches a glimpse of her having breakfast with that guy. At their restaurant, at their table. He’s filled with rage towards her new man, at her. How could she just take this guy to their restaurant and have breakfast at their table? Like he didn’t even fucking exist. How long had this been going on? Was it well before he saw them in the parking lot that evening? Did she bring him here whenever Javi was away in Medellin?

He brings another girl to his leather couch that night and tries not to think about how she could be at home right now, fucking her colleague in the same bed she fucked him. Did she ask him about his interests? Run her fingers through his hair? Touch his arms and tell him how strong he was? He wants to laugh at himself. Of course she didn’t do that last one. The fucker she was with had noodle arms. They wouldn’t satisfy her. He wouldn’t satisfy her. Javi knew her body in and out, knew all the right buttons to push, had her wrapped around his little finger and his cock.

Two months and he’s strong in his resolve. He still think about her, still keeps her panties tucked under his pillow like a low grade pervert, still thinks of beating the shit out of her new guy. Hell, she was probably in love with him by now. Probably a nice guy who didn’t sleep around and actually came home on time.

It’s the oddest thing that breaks him. Surveillance pictures from Escobar’s family vacation. The piece of shit has a whole wife. Keeps his mother and cousin close. Even that fucking monster had family. Doesn’t he deserve to at least take the girl he can’t get out of his head to a nice dinner? Loneliness creeps into his days and nights. No matter how many informants he beds, there’s a growing void in his chest.

Rather than drive home that night, he drives to hers. He wakes her up at an odd hour and all he can think of is whether she was in bed with the new guy when he rang the doorbell. She looked both surprised and annoyed to find him at her door. He couldn’t blame her for either of those things— he did drop off the face of the Earth and it was way past a decent hour to drop by someone’s place. He wants to hold her face in his hand and press a kiss to her lips. But he didn’t have permission for that anymore. So he just says “Dinner?”

Series Masterlist

#nice people #asks #javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña fluff #javier peña headcanon #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x ofc #javier pena x reader #javier pena angst #javier peña angst #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fluff #javier pena narcos #javier pena imagine #javier peña imagine #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #javier peña fic #javier pena x ofc #javier pena x y/n #javier peña smut #anon asks #anon request #fic request #all that i've inflicted on the world

[foreverisntenough]

- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This story will contain fluff, suggestion, smut and angst- not sure what else yet! Some love bombing but we love a needy Trent

Note: I was planning on keeping this just for myself so please be nice. I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Chapter 6 - ‘You’re Mine’

His fingers laced between yours as the summer sun sunk on the horizon in between the buildings in Manhattan. You walked down Madison Avenue popping in and out of some stores before dinner. You were caught in a conversation with one of Trent’s friends talking about something frivolous when you walked by Van Clef & Arpels.

“Ugh! I’d die honestly” you said staring into the brick and mortar window at a particularly ridiculous necklace; it’s audacious shimmer reflecting in your eye. Trent just looked at you falling in love with a piece of jewelry like he wished you would with him.

“You’re so dramatic, relax, it’s a necklace” his friend still next to you said.

“It’s not just a necklace though” you assured him.

“You don’t want to match with me, baby?” Trent interjected into the conversation pointing at a version of the bracelet he currently had on.

“Nah, mate. It’s not the look” his friend speaking before you even could tear your eyes away from the necklace that held your attention.

“I actually really like T’s” you corrected the boy. “Looks good on you baby” you spoke amorously now to Trent but hadn’t turned your head to actually look at him. “This necklace though... You don’t understand.” It was a ‘10 Motif’ necklace in white gold, like Trent’s, but unlike his, this one was covered with diamonds.

“If someone ever bought me this, I would beg them to be in a relationship with me.. would have to be my boyfriend..have to marry them” you sighed not realizing what you were saying caught in a greedy haze.

“That’s insane but sure.” Trent’s friend shook his head at your rational. Trent on the other hand had to stop himself from just walking into the store and buying it for you then.

You squeezed Trent’s hand, missing the connection as you continued to walk down the avenue. He was also a little lost in the moment but responded to the squeeze with a kiss to the back of your hand.

A few days passed like this; filled with the word ‘baby,’ sharing secrets, stolen kisses and a lot of sex.. like a lot. You couldn’t pull yourself off or away from him, you were completely hooked. He was everything to you. You were completely submissive to him, you were his.

You laid tucked on the hotel bed in Trent’s arms. This had become your favorite place to be. You both had gotten ready for dinner, the last one of Trent’s trip, the other boys all had met up in Tyler’s room before they planned to leave but you and Trent had opted to cuddle a little in your room till the Ubers arrived. Your head nuzzled into his neck, your hand drawing patterns over his button up shirt.

“Baby” he spoke between kisses to your temple. You only hummed in response.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, beautiful” Trent continued speaking. His words stung. As much as you two had discussed over the past few days how much you liked one another and your rough plans it still hurt to be reminded about his impending departure.

“T… I can’t even think about that. It actually makes my heart hurt, please.” You said nuzzling your head further into him.

“I know, baby. I just hope you know really how much I’ll miss you” he placed another kiss onto you.

“I do” you giggled a little back, swooning over his kiss. “Do you know how much I’m going to miss you baby?”

“Don’t know… show me.” He said pulling at your body. You leaned up to kiss his lips. “It won’t be that long though, I promise” he continued talking.

“5 and a ½ weeks is pretty long considering I haven’t left your side for days. Don’t know if I’m even going to be able to breathe tomorrow” you tried to lighten the mood given the harrowing reminder of the time apart you were about to embark on. You and Trent had decided that you would keep in touch and try to talk as much as possible while he was away back in England and then gone for preseason. If you both were still feeling the same you were going to go visit him at the start of his season. Neither of you thought your feelings were going to change so you both were pretty certain about being together again.

“It’ll go quick then you’ll be back with me. Yeah?” He tried to reassure you.

“You sure you don’t want like space for a little? I mean..” you tailed off nervously second guessing his commitment.

“Baby, I’ve never wanted someone to give me less space. Promise you’ll call me everyday?” He was showing just how needy he was for you and you ate it up. You wanted to give him all your attention.

“If you want me to. I will definitely call you, maybe a little FaceTime too show you what you might be missing…” You mused suggestively

“Yeah? I will need to see what’s still mine. We'll find a good rhythm baby.” Trent placed another kiss on your lips, his hands lowering in your body. You just stared into each other's eyes for a little.

“Promise you won’t meet anyone else on the street and hole up with them?” He looked really nervous as he spoke again which surprised you.

“T… trust me this is a once in a lifetime.” You tried to ease his nerves.

“And.. if you get drunk or horny.. please don’t go home with someone else I don’t think I could take it” he was almost begging you.

“T! You’re you! A footballer! I should be the one worried about you being horny, you can have anyone at the snap of your fingers...” your voice faltered a little realizing your circumstance.

“Baby.. “ he laughed a little. “Thing is.. I only want you.” Giving you another kiss. Fortunately, it was a really good kiss so you worries slipped away without a second thought.

“If that happens, I’ll just call you T” you said pulling away.

“Huh?” He looked at you a little confused forgetting what you were talking about lost in your kiss.

“If I’m drunk and/or horny… you will be the first and only person I’ll be calling.” You confirmed.

“Good, beautiful,” he said, snuggling up to you some more. He placed his face in the crook of your neck and kissed your sensitive skin. The idea of you being horny was now making him horny.

Trent rubbed his hands along the bare skin beneath the hem of the skirt you had on. His touch had your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You could feel your cheeks blush red, your body getting hot.

He was so devastatingly beautiful you needed to fight back a whimper from escaping. You slid your hands up his chest and your fingers curled around his shirt pulling at it. He knew he had won when you slowly spread your legs and let his hand slip underneath your skirt.

“Baby…” you moaned quietly.

“Shhh, just let me take care of you.” Trent hushed, dragging his thumb over your core. Your slick gathered between your legs before he parted your lips a little more to swipe over your clit slowly. His touch sent a shiver up your spine, pushing out a soft moan.

“T, please we have to go soon.” You tried to stop him.

“Nah, Nah. Just be a good girl for me, okay?” He spoke into your neck when he slipped two of his fingers into you.

“Oh my god, baby, you feel so good.” You let out in a gasp.

“Needed to feel you” Trent said while his fingers worked slow and then up to a blistering pace. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach forming. You shut your eyes tight, your pussy pulsating around his fingers. Before you could even tell Trent you felt it all snap and release, a sensation of pleasure washed over you embarrassingly quick.

“Fuck…” you could barely speak but Trent was persistent.

“Gimme one more baby, please I need to make you feel good,” Trent coaxed you on. You were over stimulated but the thought of not being with Trent for weeks had you begging for more.

“T, please, please” you moaned with no real direction of your words. His fingers still circling your throbbing clit. The lack of oxygen made you felt dizzy and you loved it. His lips all over your neck. The pleasure you felt was like nothing else. Your stomach came undone again, fingers digging into his biceps, leaving half crescent marks on his tanned skin. He pulled his fingers out of you slowly and you gasped at the loss of contact. You breathed heavily collapsed on Trent’s chest. You couldn’t get the strength to look but you heard Trent lick his fingers still wet with you.

“You’re perfect. So good f’me.” He said now kissing your head, his hand coming to soothe your back.

“That wasn’t fair, T, I have to like get ready all over again.” You said trying to pull yourself off him now but you couldn’t break out of his tight hold.

“You look so sexy just like this. C’mere, baby” he said pulling your face to his for a sloppy kiss.

“T…” you tried to pull away from him but he held onto your lips with his teeth “let me get uppppp.” You groaned, actually starting to get annoyed.

“Fine, fine” he said, releasing you. You got up pulling your skirt back down, running your hands over some of the sequins of the silver mini. You fixed the hem of your tight long sleeve white t-shirt: You wanted to ruche the bottom to crop it showing your stomach.

“Look okay?” You asked, now putting on a pair of black boots.

“Mmmm. Fuck baby, maybe we should…” your eyes flashed at Trent in frustration before he could finish his sentence. “Okay, sheesh nevermind. Was just trying to tell you how good you looked but fine.” He said laughing trying to be dramatic per usual.

You were in the bathroom fixing your lipstick when Trent came in, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder and giving you a wet kiss on your cheek.

“All mine. So, so beautiful. Hmm?” He cooed with question before placing another kiss.

“I actually might kill you before you leave this country.”

“Nah, you secretly like this.” He was right to be fair. He was actually always right. He pulled out his phone and took a picture of you two in the bathroom mirror. You had gotten into the habit the last few days, taking more and more pictures together. It was like you were dating but you…you definitely were not. You sure as hell acted like a couple and it was even furthering the delusion you and he were in.

Finally you two managed to leave the room after another messy make out, another reapplication of lipstick, and another slew of mushy ‘you’re so perfect” comments to the other. You got to dinner with the rest of the boys and while both you and Trent were trying your best to be present and engaged with everyone, your hand was placed high on his leg pulling his attention elsewhere. You had pulled his shorts to rise a little underneath the table grazing your fingers on the inside of his thigh tracing patterns. The glide of your nails had Trent unable to focus, unable to get his words out, unable to think about anything but you.

When dinner ended the group had gathered at the front of the restaurant waiting for cars to arrive. Trent’s mind was still muddied with dirty thoughts. He sat on a bench pulling at your hands till you stood between his legs. Placing kisses on your exposed stomach, his hands slid up and down rubbing the sides of your bare thighs.

“You want to go out with them? Or…” he kept kissing against your bare skin.

“T..” you groaned a little.

“Or you want to come back home with me, baby?” He said tilting his head up showing a cheeky smile.

“Well that’s not fair… of course, I want to go home with you, I will be going home with you later but we should go with them first” you said, placing a kiss on his head.

“Fine” he said, his plump lips rolling into a fake a pout. Cheekily he slid his hands up your thighs again except this time completely under your skirt squeezing onto your ass.

“T!” You exclaimed. He just kept his hands on you until you physically removed them. The sly smile illuminating his face had you anything but mad.

Jumping out of the black cars, the group of boys and you were escorted into a bar downtown seated in a lounge area that was still accessible by the public. You were trying to be conscious of how clingy you were to Trent when out with his friends the last few nights. As much as you were ‘together,’ it wasn’t lost on you that this was initially a trip with his friends. In an effort to ‘distance’ you opted to sit with Marcel but you only managed to get arms distance away before Trent was pulling at the hem of your top asking you silently not to go too far. Trent sat comfortably, legs spread leaning forward onto one of his legs as he and his friend ordered drinks.

“Baby..” Trent said reaching for you again. “What do you want?” He cooed with more affection.

“Whatever you get T,” you said with a smile before diving back into your conversation with his brother. Trent watched you with a smile, swaying gracefully, talking with excitement. He barely could make out your words over the music but he didn’t care, he just liked the look of you, the presence you had in the room was completely enthralling to him.

“You actually like her mate” His friend quietly said.

“Yeah, like genuinely, down a bit bad for her. I’d be embarrassed but honestly don’t care. Gonna have her come visit me as well.”

“Wow bro, whirlwind, no?” His friend looked surprised but also happy with the authentic smile that had been permanently stuck on Trent’s face the past couple days, his eyes refusing to break away from you now.

“Yeah, I don’t know but I want this one.” Trent said with certainty. He had caught your eye and you stared back a little questioning his gaze. He just winked at you licking his lips. Even just a glance from him had your stomach doing flips so you looked away quick.

As you expected and had become accustomed to, a few girls had made their way over into the space. Plenty of naive questions about Trent, renditions of attempted Liverpool accents, a few bottles of 1942 circulating, the night was quickly picking up and your distance from Trent no longer seemed intentional but unavoidable as you could no longer get to him.

Like any girls would, they all attached to boys in the group, sitting in laps, standing in between legs, hands brushing biceps. You were standing with Marcel soon along with two new girls and it wasn’t until they asked if you two were together that you noticed Trents position.

“Nah, she’s with my brother.” Marcel answered for you pointing to Trent which caused his face to drop a little. Trent was sat in another seat, only now a girl in a backless mini dress stood in front of him and way too close for your liking.

“Oh…” the girl with you seemed kind but had now gotten a little awkward seeing her friend with a man that was apparently with you. Unbeknownst to you Trent was gently letting her friend down.

“I’m going to be in London this winter” The girl attempted to flirt and ignite plans with Trent.

“Yeah, London’s great. I prefer to stay up north but I’m sure you’ll have a good time.” He said his eyes now panning the room looking for you. He was trying to be polite but was getting a little bored of the niceties. He couldn’t find you through the crowd of people but you could see him. The girl stretched her arm out grabbing for Trent’s and that’s when you felt sick.

“Marc, I can’t do this. I am so stupid.” Your eyes filling with tears. You were drunk and emotional about your impending split. You soberly would trust Trent but you were overwhelmed and frankly overreacting but you needed to get out of there. You couldn’t stomach another girl touching him.

“Y/N” Marcel tried to grab you but you slipped away breaking out of the area. He didn’t follow you instead he adamantly stared at Trent with a ‘what the fuck’ expression.

“Look, you seem really nice..” Trent said with some sternness removing her hand from him quickly “…but I’m here with someone” he continued looking for you, only now catching Marcel's glare. Still unable to see you, Trent began to worry. He stood up briskly, making his way through his friends ignoring any remarks determined to find you immediately.

You had rushed into the hallway in tears trying to catch your breath before you kept walking to leave. What had happened? To no surprise but also to your disappointment your fool's paradise had crumbled around you.

“Hey, nah, none of this. Where you going” you heard echoing off the walls. You knew the voice, you knew who it was but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around, not with your swollen eyes and tear stained cheeks.

“Baby.. C’mere now” he said firmly, grabbing your wrist forcing you to turn to him. “No, no, no, please baby. Don’t do this. C’mere” he cooed, picking your chin up to make eye contact, his thumb brushing the tears from your skin. “Please beautiful.”

You started to cry again a little more.

“T, why are you dragging this out with me?Just let me go, it hurts too much already and you’re still here.” You wept.

“Y/N” he said harshly before his lips crashed into yours, passionately making out, pressing you up against the wall before you pulled away.

“T, don’t. I get that this..” you gestured to your bodies, “works but my heart is breaking here so please.” You were practically begging but his lips stayed attached to your neck.

“Baby, I’m not breaking anything, I’m not letting you go, I’m here with you, alright?” He whispered against your skin.

“Baby..” you whined “what about...” You wanted to ask about the girl but you already were looking embarrassingly desperate and your drunk logic didn’t really make sense anymore.

“Don’t even go there… I told her I was with you, pretty girl.” He cooed with a goofy smile now placing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Yeah?” You questioned returning the kiss, falling into a heavier makeout before Trent pulled you into an unspecified room.

He broke the kiss trying to inspect where you two had ended up, a maintenance closet of sorts, both of you heavily breathing, his forehead rested against yours, before his lips were back on your neck.

“I just didn’t want to bother you tonight…” you tried to explain your distance ultimately causing the miscommunication.

“This face…” he said stroking his thumb over your cheekbone “will never bother me. Don’t leave my side when we’re out, yeah?” He said as your hands slid under his shirt, twisting the material higher up to show more and more of his abs. His lips were still on your neck, his teeth nipped at your soft skin. His mouth slowly moved down your neck shoving your shirt up now over your boobs giving him a rushed but full view of them before placing his mouth on your exposed skin. You pulled him off though pushing him up against the door before working your lips down his body.

“T, don’t leave me” You said regarding tonight at this bar but also in the grander sense. You had made your way down to Trent’s shorts looking up at him with a sinister look. You quickly fumbled around pulling his now hard cock out, placing him almost immediately in your mouth.

“Fuck…” he groaned.

You took as much of him as you possibly could. Trent’s groans filled the maintenance room as you licked down his shaft, before moving your mouth back up. His hands gripped your hair, growing tighter as you continued to bob up and down vigorously. You moved one of your hands to squeeze his balls, you knew his orgasm was fast approaching, by his ragged breath. Given your location, you picked up your pace slightly, your jaw now aching, feeling more and more lightheaded, as much as you were enjoying this you couldn’t stay in this room long. Trent knew that too so he pushed your head a little more so all of his cock was in your mouth. You gagged slightly before feeling his release shoot into the back of your throat. You swallowed obediently.

“All mine” Trent moaned, almost completely breathless as you pulled off of him. You stuck your tongue out a little to show him how good you did for him.

“Oh my fucking god, baby, it’s insane you think I’d try to leave you.” He joked but the sentiment was incredibly serious.

“T” you cooed looking up at him through your lashes. He reached out grabbing under your arms pulling you into him while he tried to adjust himself back in his shorts.

“We should go beautiful.” He said kissing the top of your head. “You want to head home or stay out, anything you want, yeah?”

“Anywhere with you T.” You confirmed sweetly.

“Perfect, perfect girl” he said with a kiss to your lips, pulling you out the door into the hall. The pair of you snuck back into the area where the boys were. Some of them had paired off with the girls from earlier, the remaining seemed to be enamored in various conversations although your return didn’t go unnoticed.

“All good?” Tyler looked at you with a smug smile. You and Trent weren’t exactly as discreet as you thought. Your eyes a bit watery not from sad tears, Trent’s face flushed. You shyly giggled squeezing on Trent’s arm.

“You all good? Hmm?” You cooed a question looking at Trent knowing what just ensued made him feel pretty good.

“Yeah, yeah, better than ever.” Trent said, unable to hide his grin.

“Subtly is not a strong suit of either of yours” Tyler joked.

“Wasn’t trying to be. What you want to drink, baby?” Trent snapped at his brother before affectionately asking you.

“Mmm whatever you think, T” you said staring into his eyes, completely enamored and obsessed before placing a sultry kiss behind his ear.

“Sit with them till I get back” he suggested, his hand pressing low on your back, hand dipping into the waist of your skirt. Leaning closer to your ear so only you could hear he began to whisper…

“Don’t fucking think for a second I’m not coming right back to you after you had my cock down your throat tonight. Be a good girl and wait for me, baby.” His lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. It occurred to Trent that maybe security and transparency was something you were looking for from him so he was going to tell you exactly what he was thinking and that definitely including his dick in your mouth.

You went and sat on a couch next to one of Trent’s friends trying to hide a stupid smile before he nudged your thigh.

“Earlier… He wouldn’t do that. Not to anyone, definitely not to you Y/N.” He said with a sincere smile. “Not you” he repeated

It was incredibly kind to try to ease your mind about what he watched unfold earlier. It was also unnecessary given what Trent had just whispered in your ear but he didn’t know that. He just wanted to reassure you and you appreciated it.

“Yeah? Thanks. When I think too much it just feels a little far-fetched, the whole thing.” The honest response fell out. You were a little buzzed, very emotional, and a bit dizzy from the night.

“Yeah, it’s insane for sure” he laughed “but he’s also serious though. It’s not that far-fetched. I don’t know you but he’s not fucking around, I promise.” He spoke to you candidly before Trent came back over with two drinks. It made you feel better Trent was being authentic not only to you but in front of his friends too.

“For you beautiful” Trent returned, handing you a drink.

“Thank you, T” you cooed. He leant down pushing his lips out waiting for a kiss in return. You giggled pressing your lips to his, your hand cupping his cheek before he pulled you up taking your seat placing you on his lap. His friend gave you a smug knowing look, confirming exactly what he was saying a moment ago… Trent was serious.

“Absolute melt” Tyler mused poking fun at Trent’s desperation to please you. Little did he know you were quite literally on your knees for his brother.

•

Thank you for continuing reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think or if you have any thoughts/ questions! 🤍

Next part is up - Chapter 7

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagines

[argisthebulwark]

begging for the “i don’t want to admit i love you” sex to be vilkas. beg. ging.

ur so right, anon. it's obviously nsfw so it's going under a cut! minors don't read or interact, it's sexually explicit. Vilkas/Harbinger. this is the first thing i've written in like. 3 months lol. thank you!!

“Anyone could have seen us.”

“No one saw us, I assure you.”

“And how do you know this? You were making enough noise to wake the dead.”

“Is it my fault for this? When you were the one making me -”

“I am to blame for making you feel too good?” His nose bumped against mine, skin tingling everywhere it touched his. “Should I stop, then?” My fingers itched to close the gap, to draw him closer until there was no discerning between our bodies. His low voice rumbled through the chamber, heating every bit of my body. I could summon no answer - there was no point in lying, in denying the pure bliss only Vilkas could draw out of me. But what was there to say instead? Admitting how he made me feel was far too dangerous. His dark eyes simmered with undisguised lust I struggled to ignore. 

“Tell me, Harbinger.” His lips slid down my throat, stubble only adding to the intoxication of being touched by him. “What would happen if someone spotted us?” 

Long fingers wound around my waist and drew me into his chest. Every bit of sense left in my mind bid me to run from him before he broke down my walls again but he felt too good to let go. My arms rose seemingly of their own accord to wrap around his broad shoulders, feeding the need to be closer to him. 

“I would look unprofessional.” I gasped when sharp teeth grazed down my shoulder, nimble fingers undoing the careful braid of my hair. “I would appear to be an unfit leader by sleeping with my second in command.”

“Oh yes.” Vilkas practically moaned the words into my skin. “I would lose the respect of all the new recruits.”

“Yes.” He’d barely touched me but I found myself panting, begging for more of him. Clamping down on the thought of asking for more - more of his touch, his breath, more of him was easy. Practiced.

“There would be talk.” There was something exhilarating about his words. The idea of getting caught was terrifying but under the fear there was something exciting about Vilkas being mine. My skin prickled at the idea, face coloring when his fingers guided my lips so close to his. I felt every breath but hesitated. I couldn’t simply dive in, couldn’t let him see how badly I wanted him. 

“There would be rumors, Harbinger. We would lose control. And we can’t have that.”

Winding my fingers into his hair I reminded myself that our meetings were purely physical, a release from the high tension of running such a large Guild. It was difficult to remember when Vilkas’ fingers unstrapped my armor without missing a beat as if he’d memorized them. When he gazed down at me, lips parted and whispering my name I reminded myself that he wanted nothing more of me than what I wanted of him. We’d made a deal.

“This has to mean nothing.” I reminded Vilkas as his lips brushed over mine. The slightest hint of his kiss already had me weak at the knees but he couldn’t see what he truly did to me. 

“Of course, my Harbinger,” he breathed those words against my lips. “We are nothing.” 

Forgetting those words was too easy once we fell into bed, sweaty skin sticking together and desperate moans drowning out the crackling fire. All rational thought banished by Vilkas’ hands keeping me close, hips pounding into mine and praise dripping from his tongue. I grasped his shoulders, nails leaving selfish marks into the skin of his back where I clung to him. I couldn’t bear meeting his gaze. That look was in his eye, the one that taunted me to acknowledge that something had blossomed between us long ago. Each thrust, every kiss trailed down my body, everywhere he touched I fought back the words threatening to ruin it all. 

“Look at me.” He murmured, surely knowing I was on the precipice of orgasming. My cheeks were hot when he grasped my face, drawing my gaze from the ceiling to meet his. Vilkas’ smirk was like nothing I’d ever seen before, so sure of himself. “I want you to look at me when you cum.”

“Why?” My fingers tugged at his hips, desperate for him to allow me to finish. I was so close, nerves tingling and muscles tightening but his hands kept me in place. The question threw him off a bit - the muscles in his back flexed under my hold as he leaned closer. 

Refusing to answer he snatched my hips, dragging my body to his. His cock thrust deep into me but I held his gaze, never breaking. While my vision became blurry with stars and our mingled moans filled the room I watched him. Vilkas stuttered through his own orgasm and amidst the haze of lust I saw it there, that terrifying love clear as day in his beautiful brown eyes. 

Prepared for his usual exit I cleared my throat, embarrassed at the thoughts clouding my mind. Without his cock in me it was easier to recall the purpose of these visits - relieve some tension before a good night's sleep. To my surprise Vilkas did not grab his armor and make haste back to his own chambers. He remained, dark hair spread over my stomach where he rested between my legs. 

Something deep in my chest broke at the sight. Vilkas traced an old scar running up my thigh, the other hand clasping mine. That aching loneliness that always found me after his departure was banished by the sight of him tangled in my bedding and the stray kiss he placed upon my sticky skin. I didn’t dare say a word, afraid of breaking whatever spell kept him in place. 

I could not love him. 

It was unreasonable to be in love with Vilkas. Unbecoming. Inopportune. Unprofessional.

And yet, when he finally met my eyes I could do nothing to hide the hammering of my heart. When his fingers tightened around mine and offered to share a warm bath I found myself agreeing. Even as he sank into the warm water next to me, muscled arms drawing me closer I could not admit the terrible truth to myself lest I lose what little piece of him I’d gained. 

#asks #anon #writing #skyrim #vilkas #vilkas x reader #vilkas x dragonborn

[jeonginluvrr]

bite me | park sunghoon

synopsis: will you kiss him or bite him to ensure your survival?

pairing: sunghoon x !vampire fem reader

genre: angst, suggestive, established relationship

warnings: mentions of biting and blood. 

notes: i absolutely loved dark blood and HAD to write this indulgent fic .. this fic is based off of the concept trailer. each member will be receiving a fic! 

sunghoon couldn’t let the others harm you. he had this need to protect you and a strong will and desire to keep you safe from danger. to escape his brothers, he enveloped you with his raven cloak, your figure pressed against his chest as the two of you galloped away on his midnight black stallion.

after you and sunghoon had escaped his brothers, he helped you down from the saddle of his horse, his warm cloak separating from your body. sunghoon stared at you with a loving look, a small smile tugging at his plump lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb. 

“you’re safe now,” sunghoon kissed the corner of your lips, a slight chuckle eliciting out of his plush lips once he saw the sight of you. “i’ll keep you safe.” 

you knew that sunghoon would keep his promise. he always did. you sighed quietly, pressing your cold body closer to his, your arms wrapped around the base of his neck. 

“we can’t keep running away forever, hoon.” you addressed him, leaving small kisses against his upper lip. the corners of his lips tightened into a frown as his large hands cupped the sides of your waist. 

“i know.” sunghoon acknowledged your statement, his chocolate eyes peering into yours. “but running away is our only option for now.” 

during the days that passed during your hiding with sunghoon, he strived to entertain you and maintain your happiness by cracking jokes and making shadow puppets with his hands. you loved the determined look that crossed sunghoon’s face whenever he saw a small frown on your lips. 

however, much of sunghoon’s efforts were in vain as his brothers located him once again. although he killed his brother jungwon, his younger brother riki had already found him and intended to kill him. 

riki cornered the two of you in the snowy forest, twirling his blade in his fingers as he stared the both of you down. 

sunghoon’s forehead creased as he narrowed his eyebrows at his younger brother, wielding a weapon of his own that he stumbled upon within the depths of the forest. 

“i don’t want to hurt you,” sunghoon began, defensively placing you behind him as you peered to stare at the intimidating figure of riki. “don’t make me do this.” 

“we’re beyond rationality,” riki glared at sunghoon, his steps drawing closer to the both of you. “surrender now or face the consequences.” 

“never.” sunghoon stated boldly, his blade clashing against riki’s, the metal scraping against each other as they fought aggressively. sunghoon’s eyes quickly glanced at you. 

“y/n, run!” sunghoon’s attention returned to the battle as he slashed riki’s blade repeatedly in an attempt to break through riki’s defense. 

your breathing began to become heavy as you ran away from the battle, as far away as you could. you didn’t look back, afraid that riki would pursue you when you least expected it. 

you fell into the thick snow, tears running down your cheeks as you desperately begged to the heavens that your love, sunghoon, would survive. 

several moments later, sunghoon returned to you, his blade stained with blood. you grabbed onto him tightly, clutching his blazer tightly, fearing what would happen if you let go. 

“y/n,” sunghoon breathed into your ear, his voice sounding rushed. “we need to go.” 

you looked up from your position to see the rest of sunghoon’s brothers closing in on the two of you, grim and serious expressions on each of their faces. 

you locked your fingers with sunghoon’s, sprinting away from the rest of them before he ensured your safety. sunghoon stopped you, staring into your eyes with a grim look on his face. 

“y/n, we won’t get anywhere like this,” he panted, cupping your chin with his thumb, staring into your eyes with a sincere look.

you looked up at him with an innocent look, watching as he leaned closer to you, his breath fanning in your ear as he whispered in a nearly seductive tone, “bite me.” 

sunghoon retracted from your ear, his eyes lowered to look at yours as his plush lips grazed against yours. it was an act of desperation. 

you hesitated, your hands clutching sunghoon’s arms as he remained in that position, his lips and nose brushing against yours. in silent agreement, you slowly leaned to sunghoon’s collar. you elevated your height slightly by standing on the end of your toes, your fingers pulling his collared neck to reveal his exposed neck. 

you gently kissed his neck before sinking your fangs into them, your sharp teeth digging into his skin as sunghoon let out a small cry of pain, his hands traveling to your shoulders to grip them tightly as you bit him. 

you stepped back from sunghoon, drinking in his blood. you wiped the dark red stains from your lips and chin, staring at sunghoon as he began to wither away. 

“thank you," he whispered, clutching onto you as he gave you one last kiss before evaporating into nothingness. 

#sunghoon #park sunghoon #enhypen #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #enhypen reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen imagine #enhypen scenario #enhypen scenarios #enhypen thought #enhypen thoughts #dark blood #enhypen dark blood #bite me #sunghoon imagine #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon angst #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x y/n #sunghoon x you #sunghoon park #enhypen x you #enhypen x engene #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #lee heeseung #park jongseong

[tcwmatchmakingau]

The Sixth Language (Part 4)

Pairing: Waxer x Fem!Reader (single parent)

Rating: M (18+ minors do not interact) 

Wordcount: 2.4k

Warnings and tags: SMUT; gentle femdom; body worship; oral sex; PIV; oh, my god, it’s happening!

Read the full series: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

“I need to tell you something,” you whisper, and just then, his teeth scrape across the sensitive skin of your collarbone.

“Now?” he asks in a voice thick with lust, not stopping his progress across your shoulder.

You writhe against him with a moan of pleasure, but somehow, your rational brain prevails. “Yes.”

“What is it?” he asks, gently tugging your neckline further down so he can explore the soft flesh beneath your blouse.

As much as it pains you, you drop your legs from around his waist and raise a hand to his chest to give him a soft push. He stops instantly and takes a small step back. You immediately miss his warmth. 

“I haven’t been completely honest with you,” you confess. “And I don’t want to take this any further until you know the full truth.”

Waxer’s eyes widen, and his mouth sets in a firm line. He looks so serious, and you wish for the thousandth kriffing time that you’d just been honest from the beginning. What if he runs? What if he thinks I’ve been manipulating him all along? 

Your position on the countertop makes you feel vulnerable and ridiculous. You slide forward, and Waxer takes another step backward to give you space as you drop down to the floor. You can’t decide what to do with your hands; suddenly, it feels like you have too many of them, and you fidget for a moment until at last you wrap your arms around your torso.

You take a deep breath, and you tell the truth. “I have a daughter. Kaia. She’s two.”

“I know,” he says.

You blink. “You—you do?”

“Yeah, RTL told me.”

“I didn’t tell them about her, though,” you say, confused.

He shrugs. “They do a background check on all their applicants. It must have come up then. Didn’t you sign the waiver?”

You had; you just hadn’t realized how thorough they would be. It doesn’t matter now, though.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you ask.

“I figured you’d talk about her when you were ready,” he replies.

“So,” you begin, dumbfounded, “you’re okay with it?”

He laughs, and the nervous tension in your shoulders eases when you see his eyes soften. “Of course, I am. I wouldn’t have agreed to the match if I weren’t.”

“Okay, but you should know that she’s in the Terrible Twos right now, and she has, just, so many toys, and she always leaves them lying around, I spend two thirds of my life picking up tooka dolls, you have no idea, and she spreads crumbs everywhere whenever she eats, and she recently started doing this thing where she bites—”

A slow smile spreads across Waxer’s face as you ramble, crinkling the corners of his lovely eyes, and, Wait, has he always had that perfectly kissable dimple? And just as you’re complaining about the frankly ridiculous number of dolls in Kaia’s toy stash, he reaches for your hands, interlacing his fingers with yours, and draws you close to him, and then he lowers his mouth to yours, and your monologue fades into a sigh of pleasure as his tongue slides across yours. 

He kisses you thoroughly, but all too soon, his lips pull away from yours. Instead of letting you go, though, he kisses you again, first on one cheek, and then the other, and then he drops an adorable little kiss on the tip of your nose, and then the center of your forehead, and once on each eyebrow, until your entire face glows with happiness and you giggle helplessly against his chest. 

Giggling? Who am I? you can’t help but wonder.

“Was there something else you needed to tell me?” he asks between kisses.

You shake your head. Blissfully unaware of the existential crisis he has awakened in you, Waxer continues to sprinkle kisses across your face, and while you’re distracted, he slides his hands around your torso and up your back. By the time he returns to your lips, you’re pressed tightly up against him, and now he turns purposeful, devouring your mouth with a kiss that leaves you breathless and trembling.

You slip your hands under the hem of his shirt and glide your palms over his skin, caressing his firm muscles and exploring his body with your touch. As you skim over his ribs, he flinches, and you pause.

“Ticklish?” you whisper against his mouth. He nods, and you move away from the danger zone. “Don’t tell Kaia. She’s in the phase where she thinks tickles are hilarious, and she will torture you. We’re working on it.”

His eyes go soft, and he smiles. “Does this mean you trust me enough to introduce us someday?”

“Someday,” you nod, and his face lights up, but he doesn’t press the issue. “But right now, I have plans that are definitely not kid-friendly.”

“Oh?” he grins. “And what would those be?”

“Come with me, and I’ll show you,” you reply, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

You slide your hands under his shirt, carefully avoiding his ribs this time, and you tug the shirt off over his head. You suck in an audible breath when his body is finally revealed to you. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” you breathe, raking your gaze across his torso. 

You already knew he was incredibly fit, but now that all that smooth, brown skin and dense muscle is on display, you’re in awe. He watches you with darkened eyes beneath hooded lids, and you reach out to grasp his belt, pulling him closer to you. He yields without resistance, and as you press your open mouth to his chest and begin to explore his body, he shivers against you.

Your flattened hands roam over his bare skin, fingers dipping below the waistband of his pants, gliding over the planes of his back and shoulders while your lips and tongue chart a path of heated kisses across his torso and up his neck. He clutches his arms around you as his breathing grows deep and ragged. You lick the salt from his skin, and when you click your teeth together softly next to his ear, he lets out a quiet, agonized whimper.

“I am going to take such good care of you,” you whisper.

He turns to look at you, his warm eyes intent with arousal as they flit between your eyes and mouth. You wrap your hand around the back of his neck and gently pull him down to kiss you. He kisses you with his entire soul, holding nothing back. No caution, no reserve, and you realize how dangerously easy it would be to fall in love with a man who kisses like that.

You press him backwards onto the bed, and you crawl up between his legs, skating your hands along his thighs. He’s hard beneath his trousers, and you tease him through the fabric before you continue your progress up his body to straddle his hips. 

“I want to see you,” he says in a low voice. “Please.”

You smile and draw his hands up to your blouse. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He begins to unbutton your blouse, brushing his knuckles softly against your throat, down your chest, between your breasts, over the soft skin of your belly, until the fabric falls apart, and he slips it down over your shoulders.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, trailing his fingers reverently over the slopes of your breasts, following the curve of your bra. You unhook it one-handed behind your back, and as it falls away, his hands ghost down to caress the undersides of your breasts, and then continue down your ribcage. His touch is feather-light, just grazing your skin, never digging into your soft flesh.

You lean forward to kiss him again, and this time, you make your way slowly down his jaw, down his neck, kissing and licking and gently sucking your way down his abdomen, until you reach his waistband. You unbuckle his belt while your mouth has him distracted, and by the time you reach your destination, it is only the work of a few seconds to unzip his trousers and slide them down his thighs.

His cock is absolutely rigid, straining toward you, but you’re feeling a little vindictive after the way he worked you up in the kitchen, so you take your time instead of giving him the relief he so obviously craves. You press a soft kiss to the inside of his calf, and then another, a little higher. You slide your tongue in a long, unhurried lick up the inside of his lovely, thick thigh, and then you blow softly on it and watch the way his leg hair prickles under the sensation. He makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a whine, and his hips shift. His cock looks delicious, but you are determined to spend as long as you need to take him apart one piece at a time. Some things are worth waiting for.

You shift your attention to his other leg, and this time, you alternate a few tiny, soft nips on his skin in between kisses and licks. By the time you reach the top of his thigh, his chest is heaving with exertion, and his hands are clenched into tight fists on the bed on either side of his head. Interesting. You’re tempted to climb on top of him and pin those fists to the mattress while you ride him into the sunset, but you have a plan, and you intend to stick to it. Besides, you have to save something for the next round.

The instant your tongue cups around one of his balls, Waxer convulses with a tormented cry, his legs spasming and his abs clenching to jerk his head and shoulders off the bed. You laugh quietly and press your hand to the center of his chest, pushing him back down onto the mattress.

“Be a darling and stay where you’re told,” you murmur.

“Fuck, please, please—” he gasps.

“Hush, love. Lie back and let me make you feel good. Trust me,” you whisper, your breath hot against his skin, so close to where he wants you, but still not touching him.

When you gently suck his ball into your mouth, his entire body tenses, but he forces himself to lie obediently still beneath you, and when you shift to his other ball, he begins to chant something under his breath. You listen carefully and realize he’s reciting military regulations. I guess I’m not working hard enough if he can still remember his own name, let alone a reg manual, you think as a devious smile lights your eyes.

Waxer sees it and mumbles, “Oh, kriff.”

You release him from your mouth and turn your attention to his cock. A thick, glassy sphere of precum beads at the tip, and you gently dip your finger in it, drawing tiny, concentric circles around his head. When you pull away, the fluid stretches between you until the thin, translucent string snaps, and you bring your fingertip to your mouth and take a tiny, delicate taste of it. Your own quiet, pleased hum is drowned out by Waxer’s response.

Finally, finally, you lean forward and begin to move your tongue over his cock with the smallest, softest touches. You circle the head, swirling over his frenulum and flicking lightly over the slit, and then you kiss your way down his shaft and back up again. You work patiently, slowly increasing the speed and pressure, and by the time you take him fully inside your mouth, Waxer’s entire body is wracked with shudders. An endless stream of incoherent moans and pleading flows from him as you pleasure him with your lips and mouth and tongue.

“I’m close—I’m so kriffing close,” he gasps in warning. “You should—”

You cup his testicles gently with your hand, and when his legs flex in response, you slip your fingers down to massage the hard length of his shaft behind his balls. His reaction is intense and immediate. He lets out a harsh sob, and his hips arch off the mattress, inadvertently thrusting his cock deep into your mouth. He comes hard, his release flooding over your tongue, and you swallow quickly to keep from gagging from the sheer quantity. You keep sucking and licking his cock as his body begins to relax and his breath comes in deep, rough gasps.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he pants. “I wasn’t expecting—”

“It’s all right,” you say, releasing him momentarily as you flick tiny, gentle licks over his cock, which remains surprisingly firm. “I did it on purpose.”

He lies still, breathing hard as he reaches down to stroke your face with such tenderness that it makes your chest ache. After a moment, he pulls you up into a kiss. “Your turn.”

“Do you need a minute?” you ask.

He flips you over onto your back and begins to lavish kisses over your body, tugging your skirt and underwear off as he does. 

“What do you think?” he asks, rolling his pelvis against your thigh.

“I think those rumors I heard about clone stamina are true,” you giggle—again with the giggling!

“Shall we put it to the test?” he asks.

“I think so,” you reply gravely. “It’s important to research things for ourselves and not just accept everything we hear at face value.”

“So true,” he agrees, kissing his way down your body until he finds your clit and slides his tongue over it. “Kriff, are you this wet just from sucking me off?”

He gazes up at you with something like adoration in his eyes.

“That, and the way you worked me up earlier—Oh, kriff—” you gasp, your hips levitating off the bed as he delves into your pussy.

He quickly learns exactly how you like to be touched, testing and experimenting and paying close attention to your reactions until he has you trembling and moaning beneath him. When he’s satisfied that you are ready for him, he slides into you gradually, giving you plenty of time to adjust to his size, stroking your clit rhythmically all the while. Once he’s inside, though, the power of his body is undeniable. 

He slips his hands beneath your back and wraps them over your shoulders so he can hold you in place as he thrusts into you again and again. You wrap your legs around him and marvel at his strength as his hips and ass flex to drive his cock so deep inside you that you can barely breathe. And then you don’t think anything at all, lost in sensation and drowning in him.

—

A/N: Clone trooper jizz tastes like cinnamon roll topping. It’s canon.

#tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #212th Attack Battalion #x reader #waxer x reader #lieutenant waxer #clone trooper waxer #waxer x you

[steddie-my-love]

Please Stay

Dads!Gentlebeard x Daughter!Reader

When you and Stede finally catch up to the revenge you prepare to see Ed again, but aren’t quite prepared for what you find.

CW: a whole lot of angst, mention of abandonment, depiction of mental health and suicidal tendencies, season 2 spoilers

—

You pace outside the cargo hold, the familiar sounds of the revenge a welcome relief to the last three months working as a barmaid at spanish jackie’s.

On the other side of the door stede sat with ed’s still body. You had wanted to go in but stede insisted you go and help roach take stock of the rations. It was a flimsy excuse but you knew what he meant: let me have a moment with him before i tell you he’s gone.

So here you stand, listening with rapt attention behind the cherry wood door, waiting to see if Edward Teach was dead.

the part of you still left on that island curled in your gut; anger and fear and disappointment set to a low simmer. Stede had told you everything. The kiss, the plans, the betrayal. You knew what ed must have been feeling, pushed into the deep end and casting off everything that reminded him of stede; you included.

you don’t want to understand but you do. you want to be angry. you want to hate him, but you can’t.

A sudden commotion sounded beyond the door, Stede’s excited voice rising higher and higher in what sounded to be celebration. Celebration until a shocked cry of pain.

“Stede?” you called, pushing into the small room. The blonde covered his eye, a baffled look crossing his face.

“he head butted me!” stede cried “ed just head butted me!”

“can you blame him?” you laughed, inching into the room as stede raised his hand to draw you to his side. In the last months you and stede had talked about what the both of you wanted this reunion to look like, and in all of them you belonged at his side.

Stede gave your hand a tight squeeze as you stood beside him, looking down at ed as he lay rigid on the crates below.

“ed-“ you began, voice cracking. all the things you had wanted to say seemed to dry up on your tongue as you looked down on the man, his once healthy frame pulled thin and skin paler than you had seen him before. “christ ed what have you done to yourself?” you mumbled.

He looked nothing like he used to, the light that used to shine from him reduced to a pale glimmer. Those once sharp eyes able to plan a fuckery from a mile away almost seemed dull and a crease between his eyebrows erased and smile lines that had been there before.

You sat down beside him, your hand hesitating to take his until he was ready. With a small signal from the man you laid your hand on his right hand, the left still firmly grasped by stede.

“hey kid-“ Ed said weakly, his voice all but gone. a ghost of a smile stretched across his face

“ed-“ you began, struggling to find the words “I know that you have been through hell but please, please don’t destroy yourself. We need you in our lives. If-“

You faltered, voice catching in your throat as you tried to get the words out. Stede’s now callused hand clasped your shoulder.

“Promise me that you’ll come to us if it gets this bad. Talk to us or so help me i will walk into hell and pull you out myself” you said.

Ed let out a sort of wheezing laugh, his lungs not yet recovered fully. “i promise kid.” he said with a small squeeze of his hand that you returned.

“Okay now-“ Stede began, shaking you out from the moment. “we have a lot to talk about tomorrow but in the meantime ed should get some rest. come on yn.” the captain said, but as you began to collect yourself you noticed that ed’s grip had not yet been relinquished, his gaze not yet leaving your face.

“stay, will you?” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. you gave a short nod and before you could say a word stede had excused himself to find the two of you some extra blankets.

“kid i’m-“ Ed began, not quite able to look you in the face.

“we’ll be able to get into all of that.” you said, brushing a piece of hair out of his face “what’s important is that you rest. That we both rest really, stede frees us from the pirate queen today!”

The pirate’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, so to began the tale- about indigo trunks and good soup and zip lining above the pacific ocean.

Ed listened with rapt interest, but by the time he returned with blankets for you and ed, the man was fast asleep and you were soon to follow.

—

Suicide is a serious issue! Please text or call the Suicide Hotline at 988, reach out to a friend or send me a message (my inbox is a completely safe space)

#blackbonnet #blackbonnet fic #dad!ed teach #dad!stede bonnet #our flag means death #stede x ed #stede bonnet fic #ofmd #gentlebeard #gentlebeard fic #dad!blackbonnet x daughter!reader #dads!blackbonnet #dad!blackbonnet #dad!blackbeard #dad!gentlebeard #dads!gentlebeard #daughter!reader #daughter

[itsclydebitches]

BG3 Fic Prompts

I am once again creating a massive document of fics I want to write, to be updated whenever. This is 50% me keeping track of ideas, 25% giving the fandom ideas if they want to steal, and 25% pure entertainment.

“She looks like she could throw me over her shoulder and carry me to safety.” Six times Karlach carried a party member and one time the whole group returned the favor. Bonus points if carrying her is pre-insulation upgrade so they have to get creative and/or sacrificial about it.

~

Similarly, Karlach/Character of Choice in a Pushing Daisies-esque situation, except on steroids. It’s not just that they can’t touch her, they’ll actively burn themselves if they get too close (so no easy kiss-through-Saran-Wrap solutions). They make it work though through the power of love, magic, and a fuck-ton of stubbornness. Ideas can differ greatly depending on who the partner of choice is. Example: Lae’zel toughing it out while Shadowheart curses and sprints to heal her; Astarion leaning into his flirty cad side: “Gale? Summon me a mage hand so I can slap that ass.”

~

Because the Gale romance bug remains one of my favorite things: angsty fic where he—in true BG3 fashion—misinterprets the most basic, bare-bones decency as love because he’s a) been groomed by a goddess since he was a boy and then abandoned by her in a way that makes him feel completely worthless and b) locked in a tower for a year+ with only his cat for company. Writer’s choice whether this results in Tav rejecting Gale and leaving him with the bittersweet realization that they may not Love him, but they do love him and this helps forward Gale’s recovery. OR

Narrator: Lying awake that night, you think back on your talk with Gale. He looked so handsome in the candlelight, even while devastated by your rejection, and you dwell on how unfortunate it is that you don’t return his romantic feelings.

Hmm…or do you?

Oh dear.

~

That Githyanki egg is going to hatch if it’s the last thing I do, even if it’s only in fic. Cue the absolute chaos of this found family/polycule parenting. You’d think Lae’zel would be some help in this but no. She’s not. She’s really, really not. (Doctor McCoy voice: “I’m a warrior not a creche tender!”) What do they feed the thing? Who gets to decide their name? How young is too young to start teaching them to wield a dagger? Spoilers: Withers is a surprisingly good babysitter and the only one with a braincell to draw on.

Wyll: I want a baby

Astarion: Give me a week. What color?

Tav, walking in with acid burns and a panicked Lae’Zel: You got green

~

More Gale angst because I’m trash: Yeah, yeah literally everyone in this party is hella touch-starved but this boy has a year of isolation on top of a kicked puppy personality hidden under that arrogant bravado. Astarion plays his needs off with charm and a supposed obsession with sex, Wyll and Karlach distract with cheer, Shadowheart and Lae’zel stoically power through… and then there’s Gale who’s going to get teary-eyed at the first clasp of his shoulder. Character of Choice gives him a hug one night and he just breaks. Full on sobbing, hyperventilating, holy-shit-this-is-embarrassing-but-now-that-I’ve-started-I-can’t-stop breakdown that’s exactly what he needs. Halsin might be a good choice for this.

~

Forced Lae’zel / Shadowheart bonding via the specific experience of two abused ex-cult members figuring out what kindness looks like.

Lae’zel: Tchk. I failed our leader in battle and they say only, ‘We’ll try again next time’? If this were a githyanki camp my blood would have dyed their armor red tonight.

Shadowheart: Indeed. The disciples of Lady Shar never would have stood for such indolence. There are no beatings for failing to rise with the sun and no one monitoring our rations. Gale gave me thirds last night!

Lae’zel: Why then do I… prefer this weakness?

Shadowheart: Worse, why do I agree with you?

~

I want to give my companions presents! Six times Tav gives a party member something they love—a githyanki tablet for Lae’zel, good wine for Wyll, etc.—and one time they give Tav something back. Or, alternatively, one time Tav refrains from giving a gift and the recipient ends up appreciating that even more. Example: not letting Shadowheart get ahold of any Dark Justiciar armor.

~

Obligatory “Astarion is insecure about not being able to see his reflection and someone helps him with magic/drawing” fic that I may or may not be working on atm.

~

Equally obligatory The Last Unicorn reference where Asatrion has a rage-driven breakdown, screaming at Tav for not being this selfless hero when he needed them. Everyone ignores the realities that, you know, Tav probably hadn’t even been born yet, because they understand that Astarion just needs to Let It Out. This segues into reassurances that they’ll be there for Astarion in the future. End fic. Sike! Plot twist. The party winds up in the past due to plot shenanigans and are like, “Holy shit. We can rescue Astarion.” Except it turns out they can’t because that would totally fuck with the timeline (idk if that’s actually the case in D&D. I just watch a lot of Doctor Who), but they’re at least able to assist him in some small way/comfort him/give him hope for the next 100+ years. They wind up back in their own time where Astarion suddenly realizes that the absolutely insane, weird-as-balls group he met a century ago and whose kindness he's been leaning his sanity on is his group and there are ~emotions~.

~

Hurt/Comfort Bloodweave fic where Astarion, as the rogue, does the best job of finding (read: stealing) items for Gale to feed on. He’s really good at it, to the point that when they get together he starts to fear that’s the main reason why Gale is ‘bothering’ to stay with him. After all, what the hells else does he have to offer? Especially now that he’s pulling back from sex as a primary incentive? Someone loving Astarion for who he is? Absurd. Someone needing Astarion’s talents to keep themselves fed? That he understands. That’s familiar. Cue Gale cycling through obliviousness (necessary intervention from another party member?), horror, and finally reassurance.

~

Wyll teaches the party to dance one night when they’re all bored. Bonus points if Astarion is insulted af because his moves from two centuries ago aren’t cool anymore. Bonus bonus points if Withers turns out to be really good.

~

Honestly, I feel like we’ve been sleeping on Withers in general. Granted, I haven’t finished the game yet so I’m sure there’s stuff that hasn’t been revealed to me yet, but he’s a skeleton that randomly appears in your camp, makes himself at home, changes reality for you provided you've got the funds, tuts about your love life, and is surprisingly good with kids. There’s so much potential in that.

~

“I hate this place. I want to go to Build a Bear!” Total crack fic featuring the Faerûn equivalent of Build a Bear: a kindly toymaker with lots of simple stuffed animals that he’ll personalize for you with clothes, accessories, embroidery, etc. Karlach has the time of her life (as does everyone else, even if they won’t admit it).

#BG3 #Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 prompts #BG3 fic prompts #Astarion #Gale #Karlach #shadowheart #lae'zel #Wyll #bloodweave

[dropout-if]

80 J IN A SAME SEX RELATIONSHIP WITH MC BEFORE THEY LEAVE AND THEY ARE DATING IN SECRET I NEED-

J + 80: “Let’s run away together.”

(THIS ONE!!! I featured both Jean and Jade so if someone prefers sapphic J you can scroll down^^)

From this ask game.

Jean always said, “You’ll leave for school soon enough,” like that meant an end and not a beginning. His following phrase often changed: “So come over, have dinner— a proper dinner.”

Or: “It’s too crowded at your place.”

Or: “I’ll help you with your homework.”

They were lousy excuses to see you but they always worked. Sleepovers—you didn’t call them sleepovers even though that’s exactly what you did: you ate, you hung out with Jean’s family like you belonged in it, you sneaked into his bed and slipped out before dawn—at Jean’s were a usual enough occurrence that both your parents and his father could predict when the two of you would ask for permission. As long as it didn’t affect your grades, you were fine to do as you pleased.

And Jean’s father? He was glad his son felt comfortable enough to bring a friend over.

Because Jean and you pretended to be just friends, and by all means it was a success, a perfect act, the role of your life. Jean was nothing if not careful, cold enough in public and scorching hot when you were alone together.

But it still hurt to draw that line between the two of you, to put on an act, to listen and nod along when his father nagged him: “Son,” he said in a teasing tone “You’re always out nowadays. Did you finally get a girlfriend, or something?”

Jean rolled his eyes, barely paid attention, stirred his food around the plate with disinterest. And that was what gave it away for you: Jean was annoyed—though his father was mostly teasing him, Jean had always hated to be the butt of any joke. Your own frustration sparked, but for different reasons.

His father’s attention turned to you, “What about you, boy?”

“He’s too busy studying to date,” came Jean’s swift reply.

“And you?” he snorted. The studying excuse died for Jean last year, when he graduated and refused to keep studying.

“Me? I don’t care. About girls.”

It hurt but you understood, grinned and bore it, kissed Jean twice as hard when he locked his door behind the two of you, where nobody could see you and come up with a million reasons as to why you shouldn’t. It was one of those things that Jean and you never really talked about, always relying on silent agreements and suppositions.

There was little to assume when you had him just where you wanted him, with his hands on your waist, his short hair tangled around your fingers. Jean was right— you’d leave for college soon enough. This was one of the scarce moments in which you allowed yourself to embrace all the negativity.

Though rather than drowning, you found the oxygen and tranquility you needed in Jean’s bruising kiss.

“Sorry about him,” your boyfriend mumbled.

Your fingers trailed down the side of his face, his jaw, and then his neck—making him shiver and look at you with adoration—until they curled around the collar of his shirt.

“Jean,” you mumbled as his thumb caressed your lower lip almost absentmindedly. Jean mused a quiet ‘what?’ to which you answered “Let’s run away together.”

Taking calm and collected Jean by surprise was a shock in itself, but you doubled down.

“Please? We could— You could come with me. I don’t know. I just—” you sigh, perhaps a bit overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions that normally curse through you when Jean was this close (this close and so far away) “I can’t just hide how much I want you, you know?”

Ever the grounding force, Jean swallows all emotion like a black hole—reflects nothing, gives away nothing—and he reaches up with the calmness he’s known for, holding both your hands in his.

“You know you’re not thinking rationally, right?” Jean asked softly “That. That’s just never going to happen.”

“It won’t if we don’t try—”

“And then what?” he waits for an answer you can’t give. Looking at it in hindsight, asking Jean to abandon his family feels unfair “You want me? I’m yours. But be realistic, please.”

You catch his undertone: Jean and you always had an expiration date.

Jade always said, “You’ll leave for school soon enough,” like that meant an end and not a beginning. Her following phrase often changed: “So come over, have dinner— a proper dinner.”

Or: “It’s too crowded at your place.”

Or: “I’ll help you with your homework.”

They were lousy excuses to see you but they always worked. Sleepovers—you felt giddy like a schoolgirl when you referred to them as sleepovers, though it meant much more for both you and Jade than a platonic night with girlfriends—at Jade’s were a usual enough occurrence that both your parents and her father could predict when the two of you would ask for permission. As long as it didn’t affect your grades, you were fine to do as you pleased.

And Jade’s father? He was glad his daughter felt comfortable enough to bring a friend over.

Because Jade and you pretended to be just friends, and by all means it was a success, a perfect act, the role of your life. Jade was nothing if not careful, cold enough in public and scorching hot when you were alone together.

But it still hurt to draw that line between the two of you, to put on an act, to listen and nod along when her father nagged her: “Jay,” he said in a teasing tone “You’re always out nowadays. I don’t have to worry about you having a boyfriend, right?

Jade rolled her eyes, barely paying attention, stirred her food around the plate with disinterest. And that was what gave it away for you: Jade was annoyed—though her father was mostly teasing her, Jade had always hated any attempts of telling what she could or could not do. Your own frustration sparked, but for different reasons.

Her father’s attention turned to you, “What about you, girl?”

“She’s too busy studying to date,” came Jade’s swift reply.

“And you?” he snorted. The studying excuse died for Jade last year, when she graduated and refused to keep studying.

“Me? I don’t care. About boys.”

It hurt but you understood, grinned and bore it, kissed Jade twice as hard when she locked her door behind the two of you, where nobody could see you and come up with a million reasons as to why you shouldn’t. It was one of those things that Jade and you never really talked about, always relying on silent agreements and suppositions.

There was little to assume when you had her just where you wanted her, with her hands on your waist, the flawlessness in her hair coming undone under your fingers. Jade was right— you’d leave for college soon enough. This was one of the scarce moments in which you allowed yourself to embrace all the negativity.

Though rather than drowning, you found the oxygen and tranquility you needed in Jade’s bruising kiss.

“Sorry about him,” your girlfriend mumbled.

Your fingers trailed down the side of her face, her jaw, and then her neck—making her shiver and look at you with adoration—until they curled around the collar of her shirt.

“Jade,” you mumbled as her thumb caressed your lower lip almost absentmindedly. Jade mused a quiet ‘What?’ to which you answered: “Let’s run away together.”

Taking calm and collected Jade by surprise was a shock in itself, but you doubled down.

“Please? We could— You could come with me. I don’t know. I just—” you sigh, perhaps a bit overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions that normally curse through you when Jade was this close (this close and so far away) “I can’t just hide how much I want you, you know?”

Ever the grounding force, Jade swallows all emotion like a black hole—reflects nothing, gives away nothing—and she reaches up with the calmness she’s known for, holding both your hands in hers.

“You know you’re not thinking rationally, right?” Jade asked softly “That. That’s just never going to happen.”

“It won’t if we don’t try—”

“And then what?” she waits for an answer you can’t give. Looking at it in hindsight, asking Jade to abandon her family feels unfair “You want me? I’m yours. But be realistic, please.”

You catch her undertone: Jade and you always had an expiration date.

#angsty angst angst #dropout #dropout if #ask #j gray #ask game

[mindshelter]

on writing prompts: how bout timkon (platonic or romantic or the muddy in between they're laying in) + ttk shenanigans?

(also just wanted to say i loooove your timkon fics, they're the few i reread every so often bc the characterization and the dynamic you write for them Hits. hope you're having a lovely day!)

Hands slide up Tim’s face, large thumbs stroking his cheekbones in slow swoops. Water is still beading at the tips of his hair, gravity willing it downwards. The fog is clearing, heat sinking towards tiled flooring, but the temptation to sleep blurs the edges of his consciousness.

“Don’t fall asleep here,” Kon says, clearly attempting to sound stern—but Tim can imagine Kon’s scrunched-up grin even as his eyelids flutter and fatigue reduces the world to little more than a muted smear.

“Mm,” says Tim, head tipping forward. He hasn’t been able to afford a good night’s rest for nearly two months, rationing sleep on rooftops as a teammate kept watch or in the quiet of a fusty motel room close to their target, nodding off as a computer program dug up files like scraping char off a pot. Espionage work is as gratifying as it is long and soul-destroyingly boring. Being attacked from behind with a knife was the biggest highlight of the assignment aside from finishing it and going home.

The delicate pressure begins at Kon’s fingertips, wicking the excess moisture where they touch Tim’s skin. They slide upwards, smoothing back the clumps of hair clinging to his forehead. Tim shivers when Kon reaches the nape of his neck, gliding over an island of scar tissue. The nerves there are either semi-healed or beyond repair, oversensitive at some spots, numb at others, all overlaid with leather.  

Kon had his palm laid over the small of his back and a smile against his mouth, the first time Tim let himself be touched like this. His hand had continued to meander before it gathered some courage to wander upwards. Unhurried and light, giving plenty of time for Tim to pull away. Tim had waited for the familiar feeling of insects crawling over him—but a hush had fallen inside of him.

Before he knows it, Kon is taking a step backwards. The distance is still short enough that Tim’s legs still flank either side of his hips.

“Is being able to sleep anywhere and everywhere part of spooky’s training regimen?” Kon asks, giving Tim’s hair another ruffle. “Alongside ‘how to hang upside down,’ intensive endurance, strength and martial arts training? Mastering the crabby grunt?”

Tim grunts.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Kon says, dragging out the first word. “I bet Bruce made you practice sleeping upside down, with all those bats in your cave. Stick with the theme, you know. My working theory is that it’s mandatory. Only after you’ve inhaled enough bat guano fumes to lose your mind—then you’re ripe and ready to hit the streets.”

“That’s just me, Conner,” Tim mumbles. And the repeated head trauma, probably.

Tim’s body lifts off the bathroom counter—and then the counter is upside down, as is everything else in the en suite. The bend of his knees dangle off of Kon’s outstretched arm, but it’s the TTK wound around him holding Tim steady. Tim yawns, but wraps his arms around himself in the best mimicry of the actual animal he can manage just to hear Kon laugh.

The things he does for love. “I am the night,” Tim says.

Kon chortles before flipping Tim back upright—Tim lands in his arms, and he rolls his eyes as Kon elbows the light switch and unceremoniously kicks the en suite’s door open to cross the short distance needed to reach Kon’s bed. It’s on the smaller side for two grown men, but Tim can’t say that he minds.

There are a few thin, faded strips of moonlight threading past the window curtains. Kon chose an East-facing room to get the most sun in the morning. The bedsprings squeak and whine as Kon drops their combined weight onto the mattress. TTK rearranges the duvet over their bodies while hands draw Tim in by the waist; Tim wriggles to nuzzle closer.

This kiss tastes of spearmint. Tim is sure Kon is listening for his pulse; he can hear it too, loud, steady, and just as well as the soft breaths Kon releases as Tim licks into his mouth. It’s perfect, even if Tim’s exhaustion is apparent in the way their teeth clack together.

Tim can’t see Kon properly in this darkness. But he traces Kon’s jaw, his browbone—indulges, luxuriates in the softness of Kon’s hair, the rise and fall of his chest, his golden heart—

“Missed you,” Kon murmurs once they break apart. Tim uses the last dredges of his energy to leave one more kiss between Kon’s eyebrows.

It’s so warm under the covers, his limbs tangled with Kon’s. Like they made their own hearth.

He never wants this to end.

Tim’s more than terrified that it might. (It will, part of him insists. He’ll come to his senses; it’s just a question of when.) Good things rarely last, and Kon won’t ignore the rot inside of Tim forever. 

In the meantime—he’s happy, pursuing the indomitable challenge of being enough, and is entirely too selfish to walk away from this.

Kon’s happy too, Tim thinks; sadness always paralyzes him. Tim becomes volatile—and so, so angry—but Kon prefers to vanish, making himself scarce and quiet if he could wish himself away.

He’s been singing, lately—off-note, but Tim never says a thing. It’s only as it started happening again that Tim had realized it used to be a regular habit of his. His laughter is loud again, booming down hallways, no longer fearful of taking up space.

It’s Kon’s turn to yawn. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Tim says. “You,” he amends.

__

thank you for the prompt, anon! i had fun with it, and hopefully it’s to your liking. i think i adhered to the ttk theme enough dsksls <3

i’m accepting fic prompts; details here!

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #dc #my writing #heavily influenced by the fact that post-resurrection tim basically lets kon get away with anything #he has infinite patience for this guy now #fic requests

[ciaossu-imagines]

I always enjoy writing for Bungou Stray Dogs and am pretty lucky to have it requested every now and again on this blog! I really enjoyed writing these headcanons as I haven’t written much for this character, despite being one of my favourites from the manga! Using this prompt here, I hope ya’ll will enjoy these headcanons for John Steinbeck!

A(rousal): what gets them aroused quickest

John’s actually a really simple man sexually and he’s really easy to turn on, especially where he’s kind of in the prime of his sexual life but hasn’t had many opportunities to actually get laid. I feel he’s really turned on by almost anything that hints that his partner wants him, from small but naughty touches but especially by kisses. Kiss this man, full on, and make it clear it’s not just a sweet little ‘I love you’ smooch. Or surprise him with kisses along his neck because he’s really weak to those and all the blood rushes from his head when you do that to other areas of his body.

B(roken): what it takes to break them

John’s really resilient. He’s been through a lot, living through poverty and with his family always being an edge away from being homeless. He’s been through hell with the Guild. He’s tortured and murdered just to not only to keep himself alive but to keep his family alive and happy and together. So, it will take a lot to break him, but I do think the most surefire way is by hitting him where it hurts and killing a member of his family. If you killed his entire family, that’s it. He’s done. He’s nothing more than a shell of a man and he’ll consider himself as someone who has nothing to live for anymore…which is dangerous, because it means he also has no reason to have morals or a conscience anymore and he will go to the most depraved lengths to see you suitably punished for what you did.

C(an’t): one thing they can’t do in life/refuse to do

Steinbeck does appear to have some questionable morals and he is a little hypocritical in his behaviours. That being said, even he has places where he draws the line. He doesn’t kill or maim for fun and he’s loyal to those he truly cares about. That blind, devout loyalty is actually what often skews his moral compass, to be honest.

D(enial): something they’re in denial about

It’s not so much that he’s in denial about it…because he knows that the things he’s done or the things he’s currently doing are wrong and that they go against all the teachings of his parents and the bible. But I think he rationalizes it as being necessary so much that it strongly hints at him at least trying to live in some kind of inner denial.

E(ager): something they are eager to do in life

I think that, after all is said in done, all Steinbeck wants in life is to be able to go back to the farm, make it profitable, and live out his days living a simple, happy life close to his family. Settle down, expand the family, work the earth…that would be true happiness to him and he is bound and determined to get a chance to do so.

F(itness): how often they work out and what they prefer doing for a workout

John doesn’t work out. He’s not a gym rat, he doesn’t have an exercise routine. His physique and health are the result of hard physical labour and outdoor living, combined with there never being enough to eat for him to gain too much weight. He’s really going to prefer physical labour to keep fit and healthy over any exercise routine.

G(uarded): something they always guard (item can be physical or mental like their feelings)

He always knows exactly what is going on with his family. Even while abroad, he has ways of making sure they’re safe and okay and doing well and he is really protective of them, as much as is humanly possible to be when he’s not right there with them.

H(ell): what would make their life hell

Aside from the obvious answers listed above in the ‘how to break him’ section, I feel like he has kept his family really in the dark about what he’s actually doing and what his life is actually like. He would rather die than have his mother or his younger sister, in particular, ever learn about what he’s done.

I(ngenuity): how clever they can be in tough situations

Steinbeck might appear dumb or slow at times, like a country bumpkin. But that’s okay with him and might even, in some cases, be a deliberately exaggerated act because he really is very cunning. He thinks fast on his feet and he comes up with clever tricks quite easily.

J(ealous): how easily they get jealous

I think Steinbeck gets angry or disgusted before he ever gets jealous. While there might be an undercurrent of jealousy in his attitude towards the rich, there’s more outright anger and disgust for how they live these lavish lives without ever helping those who need it most, for example.

K(iller): how old they were when they first killed someone

I think he made it into his teens before ever having to kill someone. But he has killed and he will kill again, but he’s respectful towards his victims in that he will at least remember their names and will make sure that their families get to bury a body.

L(ust): what they lust after in life

Security. Having grown up in the poverty he did, Steinbeck lusts after financial security, both for himself and the people he loves.

M(aturity): how mature they are as an adult

Honestly, even before he became an adult, Steinbeck had to learn to be mature for his age. He didn’t get to have a long childhood and while he’s a mature individual, I feel like that missing childhood will lead him into some childlike behaviours later on into his adult years.

N(egligence): what they can be negligent about

He neglects his personal health and grooming quite a bit. He gets really focused on his missions and his goals and can forget to take care of himself, missing meals or sleep. It’s only when his body is hitting its limits that he really remembers and thinks to take care of himself if there’s no partner on his mission to remind him to do so.

O(pinionated): one thing they are very opinionated about

Eat the rich. Seriously, Steinbeck has some very anti-authoritarian and anti-government sentiments, as he feels the ruling parties are more geared towards lining their own pockets and supporting the wealthy one percent than they are in making anything truly better.

P(ersistent): how persistent can they be about something

It will really depend on what it is. If he feels something isn’t necessary, but it’s just something he would like or wants, Steinbeck can move on from it and let it go pretty easily. But if it’s something he considers necessary or a need, he will move heaven and earth to obtain it or accomplish his goal in getting it.

Q(uest): what they feel their quest in life is/their main goal in life

At the root of everything, Steinbeck is just out trying to do right for his family and to earn them all a happy, safe life. He wants to do good for the people who raised him.

R(egret): what they regret most in life

So, just because Steinbeck the character is based off Steinbeck the writer’s creations, the Joad family, I do think he also has an older brother Noah who is handicapped. While John knows it isn’t his fault and that he does the best he can by his family, Noah ran away from the family after confessing to John that he knew his parents didn’t like him as much as the other children and that John was the son his parents had wanted. It still really troubles John and he wished he could have figured out what to do or say to his brother to keep his brother from leaving.

S(trength): where they find their strength

I feel this might be really repetitive, but it is his family. They are the root of everything he does, what he thinks about to keep him going.

T(est): something that will test them to their limits

I think Steinbeck can deal with pain, both physical and mental. But isolation gets him really bad. He’s never been truly alone much and loneliness hits him harder than it should. He’s not someone who could hold up to extended periods by himself; he needs at least some contact with his family or some contact with people in general.

U(nbelievable): one thing that they experienced that they still have a hard time believing was real

Sometimes Steinbeck does wonder, now that Lovecraft isn’t around, if he dreamed the man up…Lovecraft truly was something, someone, truly unbelievable.

V(engeance): have they ever wanted vengeance on someone

My god, yes, and it’s on Fitzgerald. The man is not getting off easy if John has anything to say about it.

W(aiting): how good they are at waiting on something/someone

Steinbeck has a lot of patience, honestly. He’s learned patience from a young age and he can usually keep himself from getting too bored or antsy while waiting for something. With some things, he even enjoys the waiting and the excitement for a thing more than he’ll enjoy the thing itself.

X(enodocheionology): (the love of hotels according to some) since they do some traveling, what their favourite hotel was

While it wasn’t his first choice of lodgings, Steinbeck really did marvel at the Moby Dick and all the opulence Fitzgerald put into the modifications on it.

Y(ield): one thing that will make them stop what they’re doing no matter what

Very repetitive and I am truly sorry about that, loves, but it will be the threat of injury to those he loves. It’s about the only thing that will stop him once he sets his mind on something.

Z(oo): how old they were when they first went to a zoo and what their favourite animal was

Steinbeck has never been to a zoo. There weren’t zoos in the area he grew up in and his parents never had the extra money needed to take their children to the zoo in the big city so it’s not an experience he’s had. He did grow up on a farm though and they did keep animals there, with the baby goats being John’s favourite.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd headcanons #john steinbeck #steinbeck bsd #headcanons

[sheepwithspecs]

March CarvRhos Ficlet: Almost Kiss

|| FFXIV || Rated T ||(1/??)

Prompts Found Here!

The first of (hopefully) many CarvRhos ficlets! I hope to release as many as I can during the month of March. Each will be under 1000 words, and I’ll post them to Ao3 when the month is over. Enjoy!

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” His voice is rough, with an edge she’s never heard before… from him, at least. He laughed low in his throat, the sound settling deep in the cradle of her thighs. “What exactly do you think this is?”

“I… I don’t—” She can’t look him in the eye, too afraid of being trapped somewhere between her rationality and the subtle way his lips are parted, a clear invitation if there ever was. It’s easier to focus on his chest, lean muscle disappearing between the folds of his shirt. Her mouth watered at the thought of leaning forward and tasting him there, one finger tugging at the neatly laced front until she could kiss the salt from his skin. The breath caught in her lungs as she imagined it, fighting to break free lest she suffocate where she stood.

“Come now, my dear.” The smooth plaster of the wall met her spine, one hand bracing her hip as he loomed ever closer. “We both know you could stop this, if that’s what you truly wanted.” His hand rose to trace her ribcage, never straying too far and yet mere ilms from cupping her breast through the thin fabric of her blouse. The desperate need to arch into his touch practically burned in her veins, and yet she would rather die than give him the satisfaction of a genuine response. She fought to remain perfectly still, hands clenched into fists behind her back.

“S-Shut up.”

“Am I wrong? Call for reinforcements,” he practically whispered, leaning down until they were eye to eye. “Struggle against me, or—better yet—draw your weapon.” The holster seemed to burn at hole at her hip. “Nothing is stopping you from fighting back. Or could this perhaps be something you secretly desire?” Pale blue eyes swept from nose to chin to collarbone, teasing her silently as they mapped the fierce blush setting her skin alight.

“Who’s talking o’ desires!? I ain’t the one wastin’ time by—by—” Her insult sputtered into silence as rough knuckles caressed her cheekbone, trailing down to cup her jaw with a leather-clad palm. She shivered despite herself, worrying her lower lip between her teeth before trying to nudge him aside with an unruly jerk of her shoulder. “Y-Ye must have a death wish,” she scoffed… or tried to, in any case.

To her immense embarrassment, her voice quivered with the timid mewl of a maiden in the first blush of youth. Her, a woman grown! A merciless corsair! Reduced to this, and by what? A tight-laced, swiving whoreson of a fop with more baubles than brains! Could ye be any more pathetic?!

“Look at me.” Unwilling to concede any further, she purposefully averted her eyes with a scowl. “Damnit, Rhoswen—” For all his mockery, his tone could have easily been mistaken as pleading. “For once in your life, can you not be so godsdamned stubborn?” The calloused pad of his thumb tugged at her skin, tracing the outermost edge of the white tattoo at her brow. She lifted her hand, fully intending to push him away, but ended up grasping his wrist in a sort of halfhearted stalemate.

“Look at me,” he insisted, and she found herself obeying without thought. His eyes fell to her lips, lingering there a moment before rising to meet her wary gaze. Gods, she swore, heart pounding in her ears, the bastard’s going to kiss me. Carvallain, known hater of the unrefined, the unpolished, the imperfect, was about to kiss her.

And worse, she was about to let him.

Her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in, rooted in place like one of the broken pillars littering the cliffside ruins of Nym. Fingers tipped her chin higher and she quailed inwardly, torn between thoughts of escape and surrender. There’s no going back from this—

Warm breath tickled her skin—not on her cheeks, as she expected, but on the exposed column of her throat. She froze, lips parting in silent query, only to gasp aloud as his teeth found the sensitive skin above her jugular. He bit down gently, just enough to worry the skin without bruising, and she couldn’t help but melt against the wall with a smothered sigh of pleasure. His answering smile was triumphant, victorious in the face of a hard won battle.

“Delicious,” he purred, nibbling his way up to her ear. “I wonder if you’d taste even sweeter elsewhere.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

#ffxiv #Final Fantasy 14 #Final Fantasy XIV #CarvRhos #Carvallain de Gorgagne #Rhoswen Leach #my writing #I hope to keep these short and sweet #it's mostly practice but i did have a lot of ideas when I saw the prompt list last month so.... #MarchoftheTropes

[revvethasmythh]

I think people just ship Imogen and Laudna because they are close friends and are women. Women who are not afraid to be affectionate with each other. I still very much hate people calling them lesbians when they both have expressed feelings for men. Why can’t they be bi or pan? It’s not a bad ship but the shippers are so fucking insufferable. And lowkey I think some people (a very weird subset of fans) just ship Laura and Marisha. And have shipped literally every Laura and Marisha characters. I have a lot of grievances or complaints with those subset of fans/shippers.

Okay, at the risk of getting spicy on my own blog, yeah anon, I feel you. I always try to remain open minded to certain ships and things that take hold in the fandom that I may not particularly like, but I have found myself drawing a harder line on this topic as of recently. Not because the ship is bad (not my cup of tea, perhaps, but not bad) but because I dislike the vibe of the shipping culture that is growing around it.

I mean, I say that delicately, but the specific attitude that has rubbed me the wrong way existed since at least the first 4sd and probably long before. It's like, the level of presumption that these characters a) are a certain way (re: your point about them regularly being referred to as lesbians despite showing attraction toward men/male presenting), b) WILL end up together, and c) that anyone who thinks otherwise is straight up wrong, that I have found off-putting, particularly as we're at a stage in the campaign where NO relationships are certain. I vividly recall seeing at least one person say with genuine confusion and a little bit of hurt after the first 4sd that they didn't understand why Marisha would even ask Robbie if Dorian had a crush on Imogen (let alone sounding excited about it) because "Laudna's in love with her :("

And in normal sized quantities, I'm never going to be a bitch about these sorts of things--ship what you want! life's short, imagine your blorbos kissing while you can! I do--but the breadth of it and the insistence that it will happen is something I have found grating for a long time. I mean, you try to be above it, but we're still human. Sometimes things are just annoying and frustrating. And how quickly it all gained ground is probably helped along by, as you said, the fact that a fair number of these shippers roved over from previous Marisha PC/Laura PC ships and have consistently shipped Marisha PC/Laura PC in every campaign. So, like, yeah. I get it.

Also, just a disclaimer that this is NOT about everyone who ships imogen/laudna. This is mainly about, as anon said, a specific subset of shippers that have contributed to a general vibe that has been. uh. not great. Which is fine and a thing that we can talk about, and everyone is going to engage with this post like completely normal and rational people! Right? Amazing. Thank you for agreeing.

#it sure is a good thing I don't have a ton of followers isn't it #otherwise I probably wouldn't have been able to post this #anyway this actually felt good to talk about because I feel like there ARE things we can rationally discuss here #and should be able to without feeling like we're going to get cyberbullied for it like asjflnasl #that said I am leaving replies on but reblogs off. so. don't clown around in the replies or I'll get rid of that too. okay? okay #anon #asks