#looking at this drawing makes me want a soft pretzel

[causeimanartist]

your art looks very biteable (this is a good thing imo)

Chomp chomp

#my art #causeimanartist #drawing of me #ask #thank you lol #looking at this drawing makes me want a soft pretzel #don't ask me why that's just how I feel #anon you are the cat

[usetheeauthor]

Video Games (MDNI +18)

🎶I heard that you like the bad girls, honey? Is that true?🎶

Sub!Boyfriend!Arisu Ryohei x Dom!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend games all day instead of paying attention to you. You know exactly how to get him out of his own world.

A/N: Wrote another sub!Arisu fic because I’m horny and I want to slut this man out. He’s so underrated in the fandom and I don’t get why. Do you see that innocent face? This man is begging to be folding like a pretzel.

Word Count: 994 words

Warnings: smut, handjob, biting, hair pulling, choking, kissing/french kissing, saliva as lube, spit kink, cum eating, dacryphilia, daddy kink

You knew the disadvantages of having a gamer boyfriend but you figured that Arisu was more than worth it. Now you’re not so sure anymore.

Just how is it possible that this man could stay in front of a screen for hours on end, mindlessly shooting enemies? Not once has he looked up at you to make sure that you’re still there. You just might very well leave.

Except you were incredibly horny.

There was something about your boyfriend that just made you so insatiable. You’ve never had a sexual appetite this intense before but whenever you’re in his presence all you want to do is tie him to your bed and use him until you’re both spent.

Sometimes, you wondered if your boyfriend felt this way, too. You get that he enjoys sex but it’s almost as if he’d rather game than make love to you.

You huff out loud. He glances at you for a moment, unaware of your lust-filled thoughts. You guess you should test your theory.

Standing up from your seat on the couch, you alert him enough for him to do a double take. Nonetheless, he returns his attention back to the game, headphones over his ears as he shouts commands at his team.

You approach him from behind the couch, removing the headset and throwing them off to the side.

“Hanii, I’m a little busy, here.” Arisu groans, frustration pickled in his tone.

“I know,” You whisper seductively in his ear. “But I want you.”

A shiver goes down his spine. “I can’t leave the guys. We’re right in the middle of a serious game.”

“I just wanna play with you for a bit. Why should you get to have all the fun?” You pout, leaning over the couch a little to rub his clothed erection. He’s already starting to grow in your hands.

“Please…” Arisu rasps.

You kiss and suck his neck, now exposed from lowering his hoodie. Continuing to palm his thick length, you could feel the faint motion of his hips rolling up in a circle.

“Should I stop?” You ask, teasingly.

“Uh-uh.” He protests, eyes closed.

“That’s what I thought.” You say, pulling down his shorts and underwear with his assistance and free him of his restraints. Your mouth waters at the sight of his dick. It was just so pleasingly beautiful. Thick and decent in length, he knew exactly how to use it to hit the deepest parts of you.

You hold your palm out in front of him, signaling him to spit. Arisu obeys, whimpering once you began coating his cock with his saliva and slowly stroking him. His ragged breaths fill the air and it takes everything in you not to ravish him. Your free hand grabs a fistful of his hair, turning his head to the side for a kiss. Upping the theatrics of the kiss, you massage your tongue over his while moaning. It was absolutely pornographic.

Sucking on his bottom lip, you drag it along with you before letting it go with faint pop. Your grip tightens around him, focusing your clenched fist around the sensitive tip of his cock.

His mouth parts, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back. He looks so amazing. How was it possible that you were his first girlfriend with beauty like that? You clasp a hand around his neck, applying enough pressure to choke out a sob.

“Y/n…”

You bite down on his earlobe, stroking him quicker. “Ryohei, don’t hold back. Make some noise for me.”

Arisu does as you say. No longer afraid to be vulnerable with being subservient to you. With every tug, he makes a soft ‘uh, uh, uh’ sound. He could feel his balls drawing up, the tension in the pit of his stomach building up.

“I’m gonna cum.” He whines.

“I wanna see your eyes when you cum. Please, daddy.” You were surprised yourself that you let that slip out. You’ve never called a guy that before especially not when you’re the dominant one in bed. But you were just so desperate to please him that he’d earned the title in that moment.

You could tell that it was just what he needed to let go, eyes open as you stare back at him intensely. He lets out a guttural moan, back arching as he spills over himself. His warm cum spurts out and runs down your fist and his tummy. You continue to jerk him, wanting to extend his pleasure for as long as he could take it.

“That’s it, daddy. Let go. Make a mess for me.” You kiss up his neck some more, it slightly sweaty from the exertion.

He begins to shudder and sob at the overstimulation. His nails sink into the couch cushion under him, searching for something to ground him. You have mercy on him, removing your hand and he can breathe again.

You make a show of licking his essence off your palm and fingers before crawling up the overhead of the couch, rolling onto the seat beside him. You plop your head in his lap, his dick still out but long gone soft. He hasn’t moved since his orgasm.

You stare up at him concern. “My love?”

He looks down at you in his lap with a blissed out smile and his hair was messy. “I’m back.”

“Good to know. I was worried I lost you there.” You giggle, soothing his hair.

He snaps out of his daze when he hears the notification sound from the TV. He quickly takes the controller to open the message.

“Dude, if you were going to abandon the game to get laid, at least give us a heads up. Also, your mic’s on.”

Arisu blushes profusely, taking a throw pillow to shove in his face. He muffles, “We forgot to turn off the mic! They’ll never let me live it down.”

“I’m sure they enjoyed the show.” You wink, rubbing his back.

#aib arisu #aib imagines #arisu alice in borderland #alice in borderland smut #arisu x reader fluff #arisu x reader smut #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland fanfic #alice in borderland #kento yamazaki #kento x y/n #kento x you #arisu x reader #arisu imagines #imawa no kuni no arisu #ryohei arisu #arisu ryohei x reader #arisu smut #arisu imagine #dom reader #dom!reader #sub!arisu #chishiya imagine #alice in borderland fandom #aib headcanons #aib x reader #smuttyfic #fanfiction #ao3 #aib fic

[my1guilty1pleasures]

The Boy With The Pretty Blue Eyes

Words - 2.4k

Looking in the mirror, you stared into your own eyes, or rather, you stared into one of your eyes. Your left eye sparkled a brilliant blue, like the most brilliant gemstone. It was your soulmate’s eye. Part of you feared meeting your soulmate because it would mean losing the wonderful crystal that drew attention to you. You’d considered covering it up, that way if you saw someone with that same eye color, you could walk away and never lose the shimmering blue. At the same time, you didn’t want to cover it up, it was too stunning. So you didn’t, you let it be. Of course, the brilliant blue of your soulmate’s eye wasn’t the only special thing about you. You could also see things other people couldn’t. Monsters and creatures that seemed invisible to everyone else. You didn’t see them often and when you did, you avoided them, but you could still see them. When you were little, your parents had thought it was childish ‘monster under the bed’ nonsense. As a kid, they thought it was make believe. Eventually, after being told to stop playing pretend often enough, you’d stopped saying anything; you still saw them, you just didn’t tell anybody. Instead, you studied them, learned where they liked to hang out, and found a nice job as far away from them as possible. It was a cute little bakery, not very well known due to the size and location, but that didn’t matter to you. The staff and customers were always nice and the sweets and breads were always handmade with the utmost care. It was the kind of place that you could easily walk right past without realizing it, but had very loyal regulars. 

     Today seemed like any other day, helping the owners, who insisted on calling you their adopted daughter, make the muffins, donuts, and other breakfast foods that the early customers would order, setting up the front dining area, and getting the cash register ready before unlocking the door and flipping the sign over. The first few people trickled in along with a couple people you didn’t recognize. Nothing unusual as you served up the various orders, one of the owners making coffees while the other cooked up more treats in back. Taking a short break to make more goods between breakfast and lunch, the bell on the front counter and the front door alerting you to any stray customers that might stray in during the usually free hours where almost nobody entered the store. Time usually spent making sandwiches for the lunch rush, snacks such as soft pretzels and a couple of delicious loaves of bread. As always, it was quiet until the bell on the door jingled. Quickly handing what you were doing to one of the owners, you pulled your gloves off and hurried to the front while wiping any excess flour off on your apron.

     Gojo looked around, his brow furrowed. Shoko had gotten him a really delicious slice of cake as part of a bet that he’d won. After repeated words of praise to the cake, she’d suggested he just go down to the bakery himself next time and then given him the address. He’d admit that he’d gotten lost a few times, having passed right past it, not realizing that this tiny little storefront was its own place and not just part of the larger stores next to it. Entering, he looked around in confusion, there wasn’t anybody inside, no customers, cashiers, nothing. Walking up to the counter, he couldn't help but start drooling. Even if there wasn’t anybody there, the sweets contained within looked delicious! Looking over the sweets, he was too distracted to notice the young woman walking up to the front counter.

     “If you see anything you like, let me know.” a melodious voice called, drawing his attention. Standing there before him was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Yet that wasn’t even what had his jaw hanging open as he stared at her, completely speechless. It was the brilliant blue left eye that had his attention, the one that was fading into a stunning e/c. It was one of the things he’d always loved since he was old enough to understand what it meant. He’d spent plenty of time staring into mirrors, but not to see his own reflection. All just to see the beautiful eye of his soulmate and imagine who they were. Of course that had changed some time ago. Amanai Riko. He hadn’t been able to protect her, hadn’t been able to stop Geto, hadn’t been able to do anything. He wouldn’t tell anyone this, but it was one of the reasons why he trained his abilities so hard after Amanai. It wasn’t the main reason why he’d done it, but he wouldn’t deny that he’d thought of his soulmate more than once while training and the best ways to protect them. Now here he was, staring his soulmate in the eyes. Her beautiful eyes, the one that he’d spent hours staring into in his mirror.

     “I’m… I’m Satoru… Satoru Gojo.” he said, still stunned by the woman in front of him. Honestly, he wished he could have said something different. Something more romantic or flirtatious. Maybe something sweet, but in that moment, it was all he could think of saying instead of standing there like an idiot. Still, her giggle was a good sign, right?

     “Y/n L/n and you have the most amazing eyes.” you said, staring into his own crystalline eyes. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he grinned.

     “My apologies, beautiful, but I really must disagree there. Yours are far more beautiful than mine. I’ve spent countless hours simply staring into the mirror, admiring the beautiful color, yearning to stare into the beauty that they must belong to.” he said charmingly, drawing another giggle from you. 

     “I don’t know, I’ve never seen a blue quite like yours. And the way they sparkle, I don’t think even sapphires or diamonds could compare. How about I go ask for the rest of the day off so we can go and complement each other’s eyes somewhere else?” you suggested, the boy nodding rapidly. Having heard the entire interaction and seeing your eyes, the owners gladly gave you the day off, shooing you out to spend time with the boy with the pretty blue eyes. 

     The two of you quickly became close, the young man spending all of his free time with you. Dinner and a movie, a comfortable stroll through the park, or flying you out to Osaka simply to take you on the biggest shopping trip you’d ever been on. Paying for dinner hadn’t been a surprise, even if it had been a rather upscale restaurant. A movie didn’t phase you, these were things a hard working guy could afford. The trip to Osaka, however, that had left you stunned. Apparently Satoru Gojo, your darling soulmate, was loaded. The first few dates he hadn’t wanted to overwhelm you with the amount of money he’d gladly spend on you, but continuing to hold himself back from spoiling you had been ‘far too difficult to resist’. After that, he spoiled you even more, despite your protests. Expensive gifts ranging from buying the absolutely best ingredients for the bakery you worked at to expensive diamond jewelry. The owners simply laughed and told you to enjoy yourself, he was your soulmate after all, what was the harm in letting him lavish you in gifts? So you let him spoil you to a degree. Perhaps not diamond jewelry, but frequent shopping trips, expensive dinners, and spa days at high end spas.

     While you couldn’t exactly afford the extravagant gifts that he gave you, you still made sure to make every date special. Taking him for a walk after dinner to simply enjoy the night air and being together, snuggling up to him during a movie, or making sure to hold his hand tightly and plenty of kisses on his cheek. And he loved it. Loved the attention and affection. He didn’t care about expensive gifts, he could afford that shit himself, he’d grown up with that, but the time with you, the love you showed him, he couldn’t buy that. It meant the world to him. Still, there were things you both kept from each other. In particular were anything having to do with curses or the jujutsu world. To the best of his knowledge, you were just a regular civilian, maybe a little more cursed energy than a typical person, but not enough for him to risk telling you about everything. He couldn’t do that to you, you lived a calm, peaceful life, he didn’t want to change that if he could avoid it. Likewise, you didn’t tell him of the things you could see, the monsters that caught your eye before leading him in a different direction under various pretenses of wanting to see something else or go somewhere else. He always seemed very accepting of your choices, not once questioning them, but that was fine with you. So long as you kept him from the monsters, that’s all that mattered. 

     Gojo paced his room, biting his lip. You’d been dating for a year now and it was getting serious. Worse yet, his family was insisting on meeting you. They wanted to meet their son’s soulmate and, more importantly, his father wanted to see if you were ‘worthy’ of the Gojo name. He honestly couldn’t care less if his father thought you were worthy, you were his soulmate, he loved you, he wouldn’t let his father separate you, but it meant that he’d have to introduce you to what he really did, to the jujutsu world. To the best of your knowledge, he worked in his father’s line of work, which wasn’t an entire lie, but it certainly wasn’t true either. Still, he couldn’t hide this from you forever. Even if he managed to continue to hide it from you, even if he managed to marry you without telling you, you’d find out when your child was born, when they were different, when they began training and going to jujutsu high. Burying his hands in his hair, he groaned, he had to tell you, he didn’t have a choice. Hopefully you wouldn’t freak out. 

     Walking down the street, you looked at Satoru in confusion, he was oddly tense today, oddly quiet. He almost never stopped talking, he was always making you laugh, but today he’d barely said anything.

     “Satoru, what’s wrong?” you asked, stopping, looking up at him in worry. He knew he couldn’t hide it from you, he knew he’d been acting differently today, there was no denying it.

     “Y/n, I… I need to tell you something and it’s going to sound insane and crazy and you’re probably going to think I’m crazy, but please, please, please, just listen to me and try to believe me when I tell you that everything I’m about to tell you is true. I’ll… I’ll understand if you can’t believe me and I’ll understand if you leave me, even as soulmates, I know it’s a little much for a person to take in, but I-” you cut him off with a finger to his lips, simply smiling at him. 

     “Whatever you have to say, I’ll believe you, I… have something a little unbelievable to tell you as well. So you go first and we’ll promise to try and believe each other.” you said softly, making his heart pound. Looking up, he sighed.

     “Y/n, there are… things in this world, things that people don’t know about, things that they can’t see. I guess you could call them ‘monsters’, I know them as curses. There’s a group of people who fight them, they’re called jujutsu sorcerers, I’m… I’m one of them. I have… abilities, curse techniques, that allow me to fight them. The other jujutsu sorcerers and I, we exorcize these curses before they can cause too much harm. We’re not always able to save everyone, but we protect as many people as we can. Y/n, I love you so much, but I can’t continue hiding this from you, hide what I really do from you.” he said, looking away from you. Hearing your laughter, he couldn’t help but flinch. You thought he was joking, you didn’t believe him. How could you? It was… it sounded insane. Feeling your hand on his cheek, he closed his eyes tightly as you turned him to face you.

     “Satoru… look at me.” you said softly, coaxing him into opening his eyes, staring into his brilliant blue orbs that you loved so much. You had a soft smile on your lips as you stared at him, a surprisingly understanding look on your face, “I believe you, Satoru, I know you wouldn’t lie about this and moreover… moreover, I can see them too. I never knew what they were, but I’ve seen them for as long as I can remember. Strange creatures that nobody else could see, monsters that loomed over others, things that felt threatening. I… I’m glad that there’s people in the world who won’t think I’m crazy when I tell them that I see monsters… uh, curses.” you said, making his eyes widen. You understood? You could see curses? Suddenly a lot of things made sense. The way you would suddenly tug him in a different direction when a curse stood in a nearby alley, how you would suggest getting some ice cream when a curse floated in the sky. You’d been trying to avoid them, trying to keep the both of you safe. Satoru chuckled as he caressed your cheek, pulling you into a gentle kiss. 

     “I love you so much, Y/n. Is that what you wanted to tell me?” he asked, grinning when you nodded, “it looks like we’re a pretty perfect match then. In that case, I have one thing to ask you.” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. You simply nodded, staring at him lovingly. The moment he got down on one knee, you were already tearing up, watching as he pulled out a small box.

     “Y/n, will you marry me?” he asked, opening the box to reveal a brilliant wedding ring. You tried to wipe the tears away before wrapping your arms around him, tackling him to the ground as you laughed, he didn’t need you to say it, he knew what your answer was.

#Jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #jujustu kaisen #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo x y/n

[bradshawsbaby]

for a Bradshaw drabble, maybe something about Mrs. B on her period? I get horribly awful cramps and they're wearing me out today and I'd love to see something about Bradley just snuggling with her in bed and bringing her snacks ❤️ manifesting a bradley for us all right now haha

(Aww, I feel you! I hope you feel better soon! ❤️)

It was your least favorite time of the month, and today was hitting you particularly hard.

Your cramps had been debilitating, to the point that you’d actually had to lay curled up in the fetal position on the couch with a heating pad wrapped around your stomach for over an hour. A hot bath helped a little bit, but discomfort continued to plague you throughout the day.

You also felt absolutely ravenous, but nothing seemed to satisfy you, not even your favorite snacks. Oreos? Ice cream? Pretzels? Starburst? You ate them all, sure, but they did nothing to satiate the hunger gnawing at you.

When Bradley called you on his way home from work, you could barely do more than groan into the phone, feeling exhausted and bloated and grumpy and weepy all at the same time.

“Hmm, that doesn’t sound too good,” Bradley said gently, fully aware of how miserable your period had the power to make you. “Tough day, honey?”

“I’m just not feeling great right now,” you admitted, pressing your phone against your ear as you curled up in bed, wrapping your arm tightly across your stomach. “If you’re hungry, there’s leftovers in the fridge, but I didn’t have the energy to make anything new. I’m sorry,” you mumbled, wincing as another cramp seized you.

“Don’t apologize, honey. I’ll be home soon, okay? Just relax and take it easy,” he told you. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. See you in a little bit,” you replied, dropping your phone beside you on the bed and letting out a soft groan.

You were just starting to get worried about how long it was taking your husband to get home when you suddenly heard the front door of your apartment opening.

“Baby? I’m home,” Bradley called out to you, the sound of his heavy footsteps echoing in the front hall.

“I’m in the bedroom!” you called back, your cheek pressed against your pillow as you pulled your blanket up towards your chin, curling up miserably.

A moment later, Bradley appeared in the doorway of your room, his hands behind his back as he gazed at you softly. “Hi, honey,” he murmured, walking over towards the bed slowly.

“Hi,” you replied, smiling despite the pain you were currently experiencing. “What do you have there?” you asked, eyes crinkling in amusement as your husband tried to keep whatever he was holding hidden from view.

“I know you’re not feeling so hot right now, so I just wanted to pick up a couple things to make you feel better,” he grinned, bending down to press a warm kiss to your lips.

“Oh, yeah?” You sat up slowly, curiosity getting the best of you.

“Mhm,” Bradley nodded, chuckling at the little spark of intrigue in your eyes. He pulled one hand from behind his back, revealing a little tan-colored box that you recognized instantly.

Gasping in surprised delight, your gaze flew up to meet his smiling eyes. “Oh my gosh, you didn’t!” you exclaimed, eagerly taking the box out of his hands and flipping the lid open to reveal your favorite lemon raspberry cupcake from your favorite cafe, a few miles away from North Island. “Honey, you didn’t have to,” you told him, beaming as you looked back up at him once more.

“It was worth it just to see you smiling like that,” Bradley replied, winking as he stroked your cheek with gentle fingers.

“Are you still hiding something else back there?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as your gaze flickered to the arm he still had bent behind his back.

Laughing, Bradley nodded. “So impatient, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he teased, drawing his hand from behind his back to reveal a sweet little bouquet of yellow roses—your favorite.

“Bradley,” you breathed out, setting your cupcake aside so that you could accept the flowers with both hands, burying your nose in them and inhaling their sweet scent. “They’re so beautiful, honey.”

“Just like you,” Bradley murmured, sitting down on the edge of the bed and wrapping his arms around your waist, nuzzling your cheek with his nose before pressing another kiss to your lips.

“Thank you, baby,” you whispered, wrapping an arm around him and hugging him tightly. “I feel better already.”

“I’m gonna put these in some water and get changed, and then I’m spending the rest of the night holding you in my arms,” he promised you, kissing the tip of your nose.

“I like that plan,” you grinned, resting back against your pillows as Bradley rose and took the roses out of your hand.

As promised, he returned a few moments later, having changed into a loose pair of sweatpants and bringing in the vase of flowers so that you could continue to admire them.

“I’m a spoiled girl indeed,” you laughed softly, snuggling against your husband’s chest as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

“Nothing you don’t deserve, sweetheart,” Bradley told you, brushing your hair back from your face and peppering your cheeks, chin, and lips with kisses.

You fell asleep a couple hours later while some random TV show played in the background, comfortable, safe, and warm in your husband’s arms.

For as much as you hated this time of the month, you loved the way that Bradley loved you through it.

#bradshaw drabble #mr. & mrs. bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #mrs. bradshaw #rooster x wife!reader #rooster x reader #top gun: maverick #miles teller

[saytrrose]

Hey it’s been awhile since you reblogged that one nsfw ask meme yk what, fuck it why don’t you answer all of them with whatever ship you want 👀

HAHAHAAH OHHH ANON THIS TOOK MULTIPLE DAYS I HOPE YOU ARE HAPPY WITH CHESSPIECES-

———

CHECKMATE NSFW ASK MEME (KINGER X QUEENIE)

———

1. What was their first time like?

Kinda awkward at first, their first time together was Kingers first time with anyone. It was mostly just testing waters, slow and sweet and obviously not perfect but one time turned into another time and another so it must’ve not been that bad !! There was definitely a lot more communication and talking than actions in itself, learning about eachother and what they liked as they don’t immediately know right off the bat, and Kinger barely knows himself anyway.

2. Who usually initiates things?

Queenie is more assertive and overall confident. She usually starts things, but Kinger is not unknown to also do so.

3. How often do they have sex?

Not often actually, it’s not something super important to them in the first place but also, living in the circus kinda sucks and there’s not really a lot of free time in order to do so❗️💔

4. Who is louder/noisier?

Here!

5. Who is more sensitive?

Kinger probably.

6. What's foreplay often like?

They have a lot of prep, after all they are never in a rush. Lots of soft kisses all over, slowly trailing down and massaging- teasing- the teasing is definitely Queenie. Kinger just can’t, is Queenie wants something you mean he has to say no? But yeah, lube, condoms, all the wonderful things before they get into the real thing.

7. Favorite place to have sex?

They’ve probably only done it in their rooms before but for the sake of this question can you imagine if one time they snuck away mid-adventure during the day to like.. the castle or just into the hallway and Queenie pushed Kinger against the wall or hid in there and was being real risky? I’d say they could’ve done something like that once which Queenie loved, but Kingers far too paranoid so he’d prefer their bedrooms.

8. Favorite position to have sex?

Basic/Common positions- Kinger likes missionary most because he’s a vanilla loser but Queenie also loves doggy, pretzel dip, cowgirl- silly silly things that she can’t decide a favorite.

9. Who's best at oral sex/oral headcanons?

This is so funny thinking of them as chesspieces bro anyway I’ll say Queenie.

10. Who's more likely to tickle their partner?

Kinger might to make Queenie laugh a bit but I don’t see tickling to do with anything sexual w them.

11. Who's more romantically sexual?

I’m honestly going to say Kinger, and my reasoning is that Kinger prefers to be more slow and sweet, and Queenie loves that but also when she’s topping then she’s much rougher and quicker. Doesn’t have to do much with romance at first glance but I think with Kingers mannerisms, he draws things out longer.

12. Who's better at dirty talk/dirty talk headcanon?

Queenie hahhaHa but they don’t degrade, they are huge on praise. Kinger gets nervous but he’s still good at it, mumble in between kisses compliments usually- how she’s so pretty and beautiful. Queenie is much better, because she can suppress her noises more easily and focus on her talking. She praises him constantly over every little thing because Kinger always gets unbelievably flustered. While Kinger usually just sticks to small compliments, Queenie likes to comment more on the direct situation- like “you’re doing so good,” “That’s it, you’re such a pretty boy,” “you’re so cute looking up at me like that,” HAHAH and more yk yk.

13. Do they have sexual nicknames or titles?

Here!

14. Who's more likely to be caught masturbating?

I wanna say Queenie because she’s the more sexual one but I also wanna say Kinger because he’s.. not smart idk. Mf would forget to lock the door so yeah. Kinger.

15. Who looks at porn more?

They can’t look at porn in the circus, I’m almost positive Caine wouldn’t allow that lol.

16. Who usually cums first?

Kinger, just by using the logic of men vs women in that area. It’s much much easier and common for the men to..

17. How long can they go?

Kinger is wiped after just one round- I think Queenie could go maybe 3 before she’s sore.

18. What are their safewords?

Here!

19. Any routines?

Ummm I don’t think so! They don’t really stick to the same one thing over and over. However maybe aftercare. It’s very very important to them, and they always take a lot of time to clean up and check in on one another.

20. Do they have a dynamic (Dom/sub) or are they versatile?

Versatile for the most part but Queenie does tend to lean towards dominant and Kinger leans more submissive with his behavior.

21. What roleplay scenarios do they have/want?

I don’t think they really roleplay anything? (This is an excuse to not think hard about it because hhh idk!)

22. What sextoys do they use?

I doubt sex toys are a thing in the circus as well but for the sake of this question I’ll say a strap or vibrators. Haha.. ha.. Queenie… strap..

23. Who, if anyone, would they most likely bring in to join them?

Here!

24. Shared kinks/fetishes?

They are drastically different when it comes to this, Kinger is pretty vanilla and Queenie is quite kinky, however they do both love and share a praise kink.

25. Something they tried and won't do again?

Oh man. Maybe risk play? Queenie thought it’d be super exciting, the thought of almost getting caught but it freaked Kinger out so much they might’ve had to stop. Poor guy is too paranoid for that.

26. What would each member say their favorite thing about the other(s) is?

Kinger would say her eyes, her voice, he’d ramble on and gush about her every feature and aspect of her appearance and then Queenie would be the sort to write on a piece of paper “tits or ass” and write personality instead, and then check off “ass” anyway.

27. Any headcanons not touched on?

Nothing comes to my mind!! I ramble about them oh so much already i just can’t think of anything else eeee

#suggestive #tadc #the amazing digital circus #kinger #tadc kinger #Queenie #tadc queenie #checkmate #tadc checkmate #tadc headcanons

[angstyaches]

Love Language: Touch

Novemetober (@monthofsick) Day 14

Prompt from @justtopostmyfic-blog :

caretaker accidentally causes sickee to vomit (maybe knees him in the stomach while they sleep? Or?), sickie vomits copiously (ofc!) and gets so fatigued from the exertion, and caretaker feels so guilty for causing the vomit reaction. Cue lots of angst and h/c! I have a soft spot for shayne or charlie or felix, tysm!

CW: character’s stomach-centred kink (safe for work), stress, slight overwhelm, stomach ache, loss of control over supernatural ability, banter/teasing, emeto, guilty caretaker.

___

”Hey,” Shayne murmured, casting a confused glance towards the kitchen as he came through the sitting room door, “so, I thought you said you wanted to make popcorn before we started the...”

Charlie rolled his head back against the sofa cushions. “Bleugh.”

Shayne blinked where he stood. “Did you just say ‘bleugh’? Like, the word, ‘bleurgh’?”

“Yeah.” Charlie pressed his lips together, feeling a little guilty for drawing attention to his ailing state in such an obvious way. Every now and then, he wished he could be the strong, silent type who suffered through minor inconveniences with grace and poise, but it was starting to become clear that he would never be that type. “Sorry. I don’t feel good.”

Shayne’s face fell. “What? You don’t?”

Charlie shook his head and hummed in appreciation when Shayne sank down on the sofa and wrapped his arms around him. They were supposed to start watching a movie, but Charlie wasn’t sure he was in the mood for one anymore.

“What’s up?” Shayne spoke in a low voice, probably conscious of how close his mouth was to Charlie’s ear. “Start of a migraine?”

“No, my head feels fine. Just...” Charlie drew a deep breath. “My tummy hurts. I’m tired.”

“Wait, so,” Shayne murmured, “are you saying you’re tired because your tummy hurts, or your tummy hurts because you’re –?”  

Charlie’s jaw dropped, and the sickly knot in his stomach dissolved into a fluffy, fluttery feeling. The cherry on top of his momentary distraction was the look on Shayne’s face when he realised what he’d said.  

He let out an anxious whimper and pushed his head into the gap between Charlie’s shoulder and the sofa cushion.  

“What... What did you just –?”  

“Nothing. Shut up.” Shayne cleared his throat before raising his head. His expression was very calm, as though he was hoping to just smooth everything over. “Can I, um... can I do anything for you?”

“Yeah.” Charlie slowly brought his hands to his stomach, cradling it through his hoodie. “I want to hear you say tummy again.”

“No.”

“Please?”

Shayne narrowed his eyes.

“Maybe if you say it just one more time, it’ll cure me…?”

“Twice drained my life force, Charlie. Come on. Do you want some tea? Do you want me to rub your stomach?”

Charlie slumped onto his side, pushing his feet towards the end of the sofa, and tucked his head against Shayne’s waist.

“You didn’t answer m- oh, okay.”

Charlie grabbed Shayne’s hand and guided it to his belly.  

Shayne knew the drill by now, which still blew Charlie’s mind a little bit. A few years ago, he never would have believed that he would have a partner who was always willing to rub his stomach at a moment’s notice. 

“How’s that?” Shayne asked as he began to knead his hand gently around Charlie’s abdomen – crossing from side to side beneath his ribcage, down towards his right hip, across to his left hip...

Charlie shut his eyes and answered with a contented sigh. 

As easy as it was to be lighthearted with Shayne about it, he really, really didn’t feel well. It felt as though his insides had been packed with chewing gum and then twisted up like a pretzel, though he couldn’t imagine why. They’d both eaten the same thing for dinner, and Shayne – usually being the one with the delicate stomach – didn't seem to have any complaints about it.

Maybe college was getting to him more than he’d realised.  

Maybe the nightmares had been sucking away his rest, as though he weren’t truly sleeping while he was having them.  

Maybe it was the fact that the sun had barely poked its way through the clouds in weeks, making it feel like Charlie had his own personal raincloud that even followed him into lecture halls and library study rooms.  

Or that Jonathan had left his last message on ‘read’.  

Or that he hadn’t seen his parents in so long.  

Or that he was yet to make any real connections with any of his classmates –  

“Charlie, love?” Shayne asked.  

“Yes?”

“Um... you okay?”

“Y-yeah?” Eyes still shut, Charlie nuzzled Shayne’s side, finding relief from his bad thoughts as he sank further into the contact. “I think so, lovely.”

“Okay, it’s just that the photo of Belle, and some other stuff, is... floating.”

Charlie let his eyes flicker open, and his heart sank at the sight of his pumpkin spice candle (which was, thankfully, unlit), the mugs that had been sitting on the coffee table, the coasters they’d been using, and – indeed – the framed photo of his niece were all suspended in mid-air, tipping gently from side to side.

“Shit.” Charlie tried to sit up, but Shayne’s hands held him gently in place – one on his waist, one on his shoulder.

Since he spent the majority of his time at college now, the demonic energies that existed in and around the Mulberry house seemed to destabilise Charlie’s control over his demonic powers every time he visited. There had been a time when he’d been so immersed in this place and its aura that it hadn’t affected him, but now...

Maybe this was why he’d started feeling sick in the first place?

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Shayne drew the palm of his hand back and forth in a half-moon shape over Charlie’s stomach. “Try to relax.”

Charlie nodded. He rested his head against Shayne’s belly again and carefully gazed at each item until it lowered itself back into place. The effort seemed to bring on a touch of light-headedness, but... he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t already been feeling light-headed anyway.

“That was so fucking cool, Charlie.” Shayne drew his fingertips in a circle, and they dipped ever-so-slightly into the little depression Charlie’s t-shirt made over his belly button. “See what you can do when you stop stressing for, like, one second of your life?”

Charlie couldn’t help the little high-pitched scoff that escaped his lungs upon hearing that. He nuzzled against Shayne’s side again. “Are you hearing yourself right now? Like you’re one to talk.”

“Nancy has a saying that she loves; ‘do as I say, not as I do’.” Shayne brushed his cheek against the top of Charlie’s head. “Now, shut the fuck up. Think about something nice.”

“Something nice,” Charlie mused, “like my boyfriend telling me to shut up?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” With his free hand, Shayne brushed a clump of Charlie’s bangs back from his eyes. “Shut up, my love. Is that nicer?”  

“Mmm. Much better.”

When he shut his eyes again, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than to be here, where he was right now, with Shayne, being held and watched over. Instead of making him feel any better, though, the thought brought tears to his eyes and made his throat tighten.  

Everything was so good, so perfect, and he still felt like life was too much.  

Was that ever going to change? He couldn’t stop thinking about himself in his teens, hearing the people around him say that things would get easier, things would get better, he would get stronger as he grew up.

And here he was, practically grown up, and he still had no idea what he was doing.

Had every single person he’d ever met been lying to him?

“I love you,” he heard Shayne say under his breath. He was still smoothing a hand across Charlie’s stomach, but the movement was a little more subdued now.

Charlie swallowed against the tears. “I lo–”

“Ssshh.” Shayne combed the fingers of his other hand through Charlie’s hair. Gentle pulses of electricity seems to trickle down through Charlies nerves, his muscles, his veins. “Don’t say it back. Just accept it. Just lie there and be fucking loved for a sec, okay?”

“Okay,” Charlie said hoarsely.

“I love you, Charlie Benjamin Waters. You and this stupid hair.”

“Stupid?”

“Yeah, it changes shape and size every time I see you.” Shayne looped a short lock of blonde hair around his index finger. “That’s pretty stupid.”

A half-smile twitched across Charlie’s face. “Shut up.”

“Oh, so, you can tell me to shut up, and that’s fine?” Shayne asked. “The fuck kind of double standard is this?”

Charlie gazed up at Shayne’s dark brown eyes. He could feel the blush in his cheeks, and his nerves were buzzing from the tummy rubs and the hair play. 

He reached up to poke Shayne’s cheek. “Shut up.”

“Fuck you.” Shayne took Charlie’s hand out of the air and pressed a kiss against his knuckles. “How are you feeling?” 

Charlie made a sound that was halfway between a meh and the previously-deployed bleurgh. “Can we go to bed?” 

“Of course we can, idiot.”

___

“Charlie. Charlie.”

Charlie loved touch.

But when he woke to find hands pressing on various parts of his body, flitting around, shaking him, his first thought was oh, shit, is the house on fire or something? 

Sure, he was a heavy sleeper, but he had never known Shayne to be this rough while trying to wake him up before.

“Charlie, you need to wake up, love. You need to –”

And the second thought Charlie had was oh, shit, my stomach still hurts.

And that was right before the heel of Shayne’s hand happened to land on it a little too roughly, pressing right into the slight dip between his ribcage and his belly button.

The knots of pain seemed to writhe and split apart, letting loose a torrent of nausea into Charlie’s oesophagus.

He whimpered as he flew upright. He was vaguely aware of Shayne leaning over him now, leaping back to avoid being headbutted. He was a lot more concerned with what was going on with his belly. This felt a lot worse than the dull, steady ache he’d been experiencing earlier, which he’d blamed on stress.

Then again, the belly rubs Shayne had administered for him earlier were a far cry from the violent grasping and jabbing that had just transpired.

“Whoa, you okay, you okay?” Shayne demanded.

“Y-yeah, I just w-wish – I really wish you hadn’t... mmph.”  

Charlie gulped over a splash of acid that gurgled up his throat, resulting in the wettest belch he’d ever done. A bubble of air caught in his chest, but he didn’t have time to worry about that, because it was rapidly being dislodged by another wave of nausea.

A thick gurgle wove its way through his stomach.

Charlie kicked the blanket back and clamped a hand to his mouth as he fled the bed.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Shayne was murmuring all the while.

Charlie didn’t stop to see if he was going to follow him; he just made a beeline for the bathroom. His head felt like it’d been taken off and sewn back at the wrong angle... or maybe he was just dizzy and he –  

“Ow! Shit...” His toes throbbed as they collided with something heavy and hard on his way to the door.

“Oh, yeah, be careful, there’s...” Shayne’s voice barely registered. “There’s shit all over the floor.”

A monstrous belch rolled up from the pit of Charlie’s stomach as he stumbled into the hall. A watery stream of vomit coursed out of his mouth, and then dangled from his lips rather than falling straight to the hardwood floor.

“You’re okay, you’re okay.” Shayne was by his side then, one hand on his lower back and the other taking hold of his elbow. “Come on.”

___

After a couple more false alarms on the way across the landing, Charlie finally let go of the tension in his throat and abdominal muscles, and squeezed his eyes shut as about half of his dinner was dragged up from the pit of his stomach like a long, hot, wet rope.

“Ow,” Charlie whispered, wrapping his arms around his cramping belly. A shiver worked through him, from his spinning head to his still-throbbing toes. Even his teeth clattered together in the back of his mouth.

“Fuck,” Shayne sighed. “Should I get you a hoodie or something?”

Charlie shook his head.

“But you’ll freeze, Charlie.”

“Shayne, I’m boiling,” Charlie lamented. It was true, despite the advanced stage of undress he found himself in.  

As much as Charlie adored pyjamas, he’d never really liked sleeping in anything other than his underwear. This usually meant that a middle-of-the-night bathroom trip was a cold and unpleasant one, but right now, he was grateful for his lack of layers. His skin felt prickly and his mouth was parched from how much he’d sweat in his sleep.  

And this wasn’t the cold sweat that came with his night terrors, either.

“Just... stay with me.” He squinted up through the harsh bathroom light at Shayne. “Please.”

“I will. You know I will.”

Charlie choked on an unproductive gag. His stomach was still recovering from its first massive heave.

As the nausea ebbed out like a tide, Charlie’s mind started reeling all over again. He couldn’t shake the echo in his head, of Shayne’s voice telling him that there was ‘shit all over the floor’ of their bedroom. His right toe still throbbed from where it’d collided with something hard in the dark.

He remembered the floating objects in the living room, and icy dread trickled through his chest.

“Shayne,” he whimpered, resting a hand on the side of the bath. He was relieved when Shayne crouched down next to him, so he didn’t have to look up towards the light in order to see his boyfriend’s face. “Was I using telekinesis in my sleep?”

“Um.” Shayne’s gaze shifted between Charlie’s eyes, as though he was trying to decide whether or not he was in an appropriate state of mind to hear this. “Little bit. Yeah.”

“Did I make a mess?”

“You didn’t... not make a mess.”

Charlie groaned and leaned over the toilet bowl again, not sure if his stomach was roiling from distress or pure sickness this time. Either way, saliva began to pour freely from the insides of his cheeks.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Shayne said softly.

Charlie whimpered through a retch, wishing that Shayne would rub his back, but he didn’t seem to make any move whatsoever to touch him. As freezing-cold as he knew Shayne’s hands would be, they would be better than nothing - and possibly even a relief from his burning fever.

Charlie coughed up another horrendous volume of vomit. Whatever was going on with his insides, his belly seemed eager to end up as empty as possible.  

When he finally felt like he could breathe without the risk of inhaling and choking on his own stomach contents, he sat back from the bowl.  

He reached a hand towards the toilet roll holder, despite it being obviously out of reach. Shayne sprung to his feet and hurried to get it for him. Charlie wordlessly wiped his chin and scooted back a little bit so that he could brace his back against the side of the bath – though the cold was so abrupt that he flinched when it touched his skin.

Shayne cleaned up a little more around the toilet seat, and flushed, before joining Charlie beside the bath. He laid a hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

“You good?”

Charlie’s breath shuddered, and Shayne grimaced sympathetically.

“Sorry. Of course you’re not.” Anxiety swam in his dark brown eyes. “Can... can I ask you something?”

Although he had a feeling he knew what was coming, Charlie nodded.

“You said you wished I hadn’t... done something,” Shayne said, “just before you ran off to get sick.”

Charlie’s heart sank.  

“Was that part of a dream you were having, or did I...?” Shayne pulled his hand back from Charlie’s shoulder then, as though he’d suddenly realised he was doing something inappropriate. Or... or like he thought he’d done something so unforgiveable that he didn’t deserve to touch him anymore. 

“Did I do something?” Shayne pulled his arms around himself. “What’d I do?”

Charlie drew a deep breath. As his belly muscles expanded, his stomach let out an ambiguous gurgle. 

He knew how intensely Shayne latched onto feelings of guilt. He knew it was a problem for him. But at the end of the day, this was a relationship, and Charlie knew in his heart that it wouldn’t be good for either of them if he was always walking on eggshells, reluctant to be honest with the person he loved.

“While you were shaking me awake, your hand pressed right into my stomach.” Charlie couldn’t tear his eyes away from the floor tiles. “I’m not saying you made me throw up, but...”

“I made you throw up.” Shayne almost sounded nauseous himself.

“It’s okay. I mean...” Charlie glanced guiltily towards the toilet. “Based on what happened, I was probably going to puke my guts up at some point anyway...”

“Still, I – I knew you weren’t feeling well, and I still – I’m so sorry, Charlie,” Shayne whispered shakily. “I-I was just so worried, thinking you were having a really bad dream, I... I should’ve been gentle with you, I didn’t think.”

“Hey.” Charlie reached for Shayne’s hand and directed it towards his bare, aching belly. “When do you ever think?”

There was very little humour in the scoff that Shayne let out, but he linked his fingers with Charlie’s and let his thumb brush softly against Charlie’s knuckles, and then across the skin of his stomach.

“I’m really, really sorry.”

“I know, lovely.” Charlie blinked slowly. The motion of Shayne’s thumb felt like cool, refreshing trickles of water across his skin. He would reassure his poor, guilt-ridden boyfriend some more tomorrow; right now, he just needed to melt into his touch.

“How are you feeling now? You ready to go back to bed?”

Charlie shrugged. His heavy head and even heavier eyelids were practically begging him to slip into a horizontal position for a couple of hours, and bed sounded much better than curling up here, on the bathroom tiles. 

“Mm,” he groaned when his body refused to magically move on its own. He let his eyelids slide shut. Where were his telekinetic talents when they could have actually been useful?

“I’ll, um...” Shayne cleared his throat and brushed his palm back and forth over Charlie’s belly button. “If you want some extra motivation, I promise I’ll give you really nice... um, tummy rubs, once we’re back in –”

Charlie’s eyes fluttered open in a daze. “Okay, okay, ‘m going.”

#StW Charlie #sickfic #emeto #OC sickfic #OC emeto #stomach kink #kink mention #belly rubs #tummy rubs #hurt and comfort #hurt comfort #novemetober #novemetober 2022

[drpeppertummy]

tiny little leon thing you can totally tell i forgot it was supposed to be about his tummy hurting

[tummyache, emotional anguish, tummy rubs]

Leon laid his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. He felt awful. He'd just finished off a cup of hot chocolate that had been a bit too much and a bit too rich, and the jalapeño cheese-stuffed pretzel he'd decided to pair it with probably hadn't helped any. His tummy bulged under his loose pajama shirt, occasionally letting out a soft gurgle. He forced up a tiny burp, but it didn't help much.

In retrospect, he should've known this would happen. Hot chocolate, despite none of its individual ingredients ever causing problems for him, always gave Leon a bellyache. It didn't seem to matter what was in it; it always left him feeling bloated and queasy. And in retrospect, he should've known the greasy cheesy pretzel wasn't going to do anything to soothe his already doomed stomach. Still, he'd gone and had them anyway, and now he was paying the price. He sighed miserably, and a pitiful little moan came out with it.

As he sat there, feeling awful, Leon found himself desperately wishing he had somebody to comfort him. For a split, foolish second, he almost longed for his ex-husband's arms. No, not almost--he did long for him. He quickly shook that thought out of his head; Bill wouldn't have cared about his poor upset tummy. He'd have been more likely to call him a fat pig and leave him to suffer on his own. Still, Leon ached to be held. Feeling cold and alone, he cautiously laid himself down on the beaten old couch and curled up, hugging a pillow against his chest. His eyes dampened, and he buried his face in the pillow. His soft sniffling and the occasional gurgle of his queasy stomach were the only sounds accompanying him as he lay there in miserable silence.

Leon was startled by a knock at the front door, followed by the sound of it opening. If he hadn't already known it was Shel--nobody else walked into his home unannounced--the familiar click of his cane would've given him away. Leon heard him pause, presumably wondering where his friend was, and remained silent. He was ashamed of himself, of his stupid eating habits and his pathetic crying and his failure to do anything right. He didn't want Shel to see him like this. He heard him move again, this time approaching the couch, and a shadow fell across him as Shel peered over the back.

"Leon!" Shel came around to the front of the couch, concerned. "Hey, what's the matter?" Leon shrugged, not making eye contact, and Shel sat down beside him. He placed a gentle hand on Leon's shoulder.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want," Shel said gently. "I'm staying with you, though. No sense in suffering alone."

"You don't have to," Leon mumbled.

"I want to," said Shel. Leon looked up, his eyes still wet.

"You're a good friend, Shelly." His voice cracked as he spoke, and his breath hitched in his throat.

"Come here," said Shel, opening his arms, and Leon pushed himself upright and fell into his embrace. He blinked back tears for a moment, then, unable to help himself, he sobbed against Shel's shoulder. Shel hugged him tightly, gently stroking his hair.

"I know, baby, I know," Shel said softly, rubbing Leon's back. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry," Leon hiccupped, wiping his eyes. As if to give him away, his stomach let out a sickly gurgle, drawing Shel's attention to it. Despite his loose clothing, his belly was bloated enough to notice.

"Hey, your stomach sounds pretty upset," said Shel, placing a hand on Leon's tummy. "Are you feeling alright?" Leon shook his head.

"Dinner isn't sitting right," he mumbled, laying his head against Shel's shoulder.

"What'd you have?" Shel gently rubbed his belly, and he hesitated for a moment, not wanting to answer.

"Hot chocolate and a stuffed pretzel," he admitted quietly.

"Oh, Leon," groaned Shel. Leon let his gaze fall to the floor, and his stomach answered with a miserable gurgle. Still rubbing his belly, Shel kept his other arm around Leon and gave him a gentle squeeze. He didn't ask if that was what he was so upset about; he supposed he could put together the gist of it. Leon was terribly lonely. He hadn't been in a relationship since before his transition began, and that had been at least a decade ago. He'd confided in Shel that he was too afraid to try again, and Shel knew it ate at him, particularly during those lonely moments when he longed for comfort. It made his own heart ache to know Leon was so miserable.

The two friends sat together in each other's arms, Shel softly rubbing Leon's upset belly, Leon curled up against Shel's chest, listening to his heartbeat. They were quiet, not needing to speak, until Leon broke the silence.

"You don't have to stay, Shelly," he said quietly, not looking up. Shel looked down at him sympathetically and gave his shoulder a reassurring squeeze.

"I want to."

#writing #belly kink #tummy kink #xleonx #xshelx

[eddiemunsxn]

eddie seeing reader isnt having the best day so he leavers her love notes everywhere and by the end of the day she just in a puddle in eddies lap

— don’t dream it’s over.

masterlist. / nav.

warnings. fem!reader, depression, angst

word count. 1085

note. expanded the timeline a bit i hope you don’t mind, nonny ♥️

That old villain, your own mind, dragged you down to its lair—full of darkness the sun couldn’t kill, and echoing with cruel taunts; a deeply set cave system you tried to get out of. But there were so many tricky passages.

You were quiet, even in company—even during D&D, and that’s how Eddie knew. It was the first sign.

As one often looked to the sky for weather, he noticed any change in you right away. The moment your clouds grayed and smothered the expansive blue, he was there to make sure you didn’t cry your rainfalls alone. He didn’t stay out from under your skies, no matter how dark. He would stand in your tears and listen to your thunder because he loved you.

“I’ll catch up with you sheeps in a bit.” Eddie lightly smacked Gareth’s shoulder. “Just give me a minute.”

The boys and Erica left the theatre room, their clamor muffled as the doors closed.

Lingering with you, Eddie turned to you, the overhead stage lights haloing him. He reached a hand up to your face, grazing the back of his knuckles against your cheek—his rings a cool kiss. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, his softness echoing in his eyes.

“I don’t feel good,” you said. “In my head.”

His hand fell away to draw along the length of your arm, and he took both of your hands in his. “Do you wanna talk about it, or be distracted?” He rubbed a thumb over your knuckles.

“I think…distracted. I don’t have the energy to talk about it tonight.”

“That’s okay.” He smiled, dimples pinching his cheeks. He understood, and he’d wait for you.

The next day during lunch, as you opened your bag of food, you noticed he kept glancing between you and the bag. He nibbled on his pretzel, eyes alight and smiling beneath his lashes.

You pulled out a piece of paper, and his messy handwriting read: you look pretty today. I like you in blue.

The compliment was simple, but enough to beckon tingles of tears to your eyes. You smiled wide, pressing your lips into a thin line as your throat tightened. You had needed such soft things right now.

Eddie reached over to you, taking your hand in a firm, but gentle hold as if to say, I’ve got you.

During class he always passed notes to you (which is why his notebook pages looked as if they were ravaged by raccoons), but this time they weren’t just flirty or funny.

As usual, he was casual about handing the folded note to you, staring forward to act as if he was paying attention to the blackboard. Once you had the note, he hunched forward, hiding behind the student in front of him. He rested his cheek against his hand and angled his head to look at you.

Keep going. You’re not alone. I’m here for you, and so are so many others. Here’s some paper kisses until I can give you real ones.

Warmth bloomed in your chest, and you felt a little more energized. You met his eyes.

Eddie shaped a heart with his hands and playfully peeked through, closing one eye and puckering his lips.

You tried to stifle a bubbling giggle, and blew him a kiss.

He made a catching motion, and—pretended to eat the kiss? He ballooned his cheeks and chewed, the edges of his eyes crinkling from his smile.

He was doing it on purpose. He wanted to make you laugh and smile, and it was working.

Both of you almost got in trouble.

After the night’s D&D campaign, it was you and him in his room. Lying down, you were tucked under his blanket, having it pulled up to your nose. It smelled of him; weed and cheap cologne.

Eddie sat criss cross next to you with his Warlock NJ. He played the chords to Crowded House’s “Don’t Dream It’s Over”, softly singing the lyrics.

You watched the way the Metacarpal bones in his hands moved—admired the swell of his veins, like swollen scratches.

“There's a battle ahead. Many battles are lost, but you'll never see the end of the road while you're travelling with me…Hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over…”

Your battle was with your mind—that old villain, the Captain Hook terrorizing your Neverland. You wanted to enjoy your youth without the cruelty of growing up with these thoughts. Why did some kids have to get so wise, so young? Why did some have to fight more than others?

But Eddie was there with you. Battles were never fought with just one soldier.

“You know they won't win…Don't let them win.”

Those lyrics did you in. Don’t let those thoughts win. Hot tears blurred your vision, and something squeezed your chest—strained noises of pain. You tried to restrain them, and pulled the blanket up over your face.

Eddie stopped playing the song, set his guitar on the ground against the mattress edge, and moved closer to you. He gently pried away the blanket from your wet face, and brushed away strands of hair sticking to your skin.

“C’mere, c’mere,” Eddie soothed, gathering you onto his lap.

You girded your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck, and trembled as if plagued by low blood sugar.

Eddie placed a hand on the back of your head, rubbing your back. His rings bumped over your spine. “Let it all out,” he whispered, laying his cheek against your head as he rocked you side to side. “Let it out. You’re safe.” He angled his head to touch his heated lips to your temple. “You’re loved. I got you, I got you.”

As your body calmed from twitches and deep, shaky intakes of breath, Eddie moved his hands to your face—gently encouraging you to look at him.

You were raw—pink and puffy like a newborn. Not everyone cried as pretty as an actress, or a woman in comics.

“You’re beautiful to me. Don’t let those thoughts win, okay? Easier said than done, I know. But you’re not fighting alone. You never are, and you don’t have to. Don’t be afraid to ask me for help. I’m always here.”

When he saw more tears gloss your eyes, he pressed his lips to your forehead, and then peppered butterfly kisses on your nose, mouth, and the pulse below your jaw.

He hugged you to him, arms tight around your waist. “I love you.”

tags. @lilywoood

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

[poedameronthighs]

don't blame me | jake lockley

jake lockley x gn!afab!reader

word count: 1,705

kinktober: day 8 - creampie

warnings: NSFW 18+, creampie, quickie, car sex, vaginal fingering, slight orgasm delay, vaginal sex, riding, autistic!jake lockley, autistic!reader, reader wears a dress, mild possessive!jake

a/n: from @the-purity-pen kinktober 2022 prompt list

read on ao3

You're laughing into the kiss when Jake pulls you outside, both of you stumbling a little, your hands fisting in the lapels of his coat to keep you upright even as his hands grasp your waist to keep you steady. You both sort of fail at that, and Jake lets your forward momentum carry him backward until his back thumps against the side of his car, and you're pressed to his front.

Jake pulls back so he can look at your face as you slip your hands beneath his coat and around his back, the chill night breeze sending a wave of goosebumps across your shoulders that have nothing to do with the way Jake is looking at you. His thumbs stroke across your lower back and you shiver.

"Jake," you murmur, tilting your face. Jake raises his eyebrows.

"Looking for something?" he asks, sweeping on hand up your spine to curl around the back of your neck. That's just - unfair and mostly you hate how you want to whine and lean further into his touch.

"Jake," you say again, "c'mon-" but he doesn't let you finish, drawing you closer to kiss you again, all business this time, cradling the back of your head as he kisses you open-mouthed, presses his tongue against yours, until you taste the whiskey and pretzels he'd had inside the bar. You're just buzzed enough that you don't stifle the soft moan that builds in your throat at his touch, and besides - the car is packed at the back and there was no one around.

Jake pulls back slowly, letting you chase after his mouth before he shifts his hand, cradles your cheek and rubs his thumb across your cheekbone. His smirk is smug and unfairly kissable.

"Were you saying something?"

"Oh, bastard," you breathe, struggling to catch your breath as you lean into his touch, eyes fluttering. 

"Well, if you're going to be like that," he says, grinning and making no move to fulfill whatever threat he was going to make. 

"Shut up and kiss me again," you growl, impatient and wanting, but Jake does, leaning in with a smile to kiss away your (frankly adorable) scowl. It works unfairly well, and the kissing turns to making out which in turn gas both of you gasping and breathless before long. 

Jake asks, "Car?"

He didn't need to ask - you could tell how much he was worked up by his arousal digging into you, pressed up against him as you were, and if that didn't give him away, the desperate clutch of his hands on your body did, the way he licked into your mouth like he wanted to devour you. You had to be honest; knowing Jake was as turned on by this as you were was definitely something of an ego boost.

"Yeah," you breathe, and pull away to make for the back of the car, but Jake goes after you, hand around your waist pulling you to a stop, and this time it was your back to the car, and Jake pressed to you front.

"No," he says. "Not there. Front."

You don't question him, only nod, and squirm until he tugs you toward the front seat. The pair of you tumble inside, Jake sitting down hard on his ass as you half-fall in behind him, and he hauls you into his lap, sliding the seat back to give you more room as you wiggle in his lap, trying to get your knees under you. Jake yanks his gloves off as you yank the door shut behind you, and then Jake's bare hands are on you, one cupping your neck, the other sliding beneath your skirt. You whine, breathless, when he leans in to brush his mouth against your neck, and lightly drags his fingertips across your clothed cunt, digging in gently at the wet spot at your entrance.

"Looking for something?" Jake asks, a wicked tilt to his mouth as he grins at you when you try to grind against his fingers.

"Asshole," you gasp, reaching to undo his collar with shaking hands, to drag your hands through his hair and knock his hat off. "C'mon, don't be a tease, we don't have time."

Jake has to admit that you were right. As much as he wants to take his time, take you apart slowly until you were shaking and gasping and begging for him - there isn't time or room. He'll have to make do with this.

"Ah, you're right, mi vida," Jake says, and doesn't give you a chance to be smug before he pulls your underwear down your thighs and sinks one, two fingers inside. You gasp, fingers flying to his shoulders to keep yourself steady - but Jake can't let you just take your pleasure, even though he'd just admitted he doesn't have time, and when he draws his fingers out, he only pushes back in to the first knuckle, and grins at the frustrated sound that bursts from your throat 

"Jake," you whine, clenching around his fingertips but he is such a tease - "Jake, you said-"

Jake grins and kisses you and sinks his fingers in all the way, swallowing your moan down eagerly. This time he lets you grind against his fingers as much as you want, pulls back to take in the carefully focused expression on your face, and the way it falls apart when Jake grinds his palm against your clit and curls your fingers just right.

"Jake," you say - moan. "Jake, I'm- Jake, please-"

He knows what you're trying to say (I'm close), what you're trying to ask (please don't stop), doesn't decide what he wants to do until your right on the precipice, and pulls his fingers out fully. You gasp a wet, frustrated sound that almost sounds like his name, and Jake shushes you gently, fumbling with his belt with one hand as he tries to lick the taste of you off the other.

"I've got you, it's okay, you're okay," Jake murmurs gently, settling his hand on your hip, the other around his cock, and guides your hips forward until the fat head of him nudges against your cunt, and you both hiss in unison. You whine his name, and God, he wants to kiss your whimpering mouth but he can't tear his eyes away from the sight before him, your slick cunt gleaming in the low light, clutching at the tip of his cock when he sinks it into you.

You gasp again, and want to squirm, sink down on it, but Jake keeps his grip on your hip firm, and you know it's because he doesn't want to hurt you, because you haven't come once, and regardless, it's always a fucking stretch when he enters you the first time. You're pretty sure you don't breath at all until you're fully seated on his cock, hips flush, and then Jake has his hand on your jaw, kissing you desperately as he bucks his hips, and has you moaning immediately.

Jake's arm is tight around you waist, his hand cupping you jaw, and he keeps you close as he grinds into you, the fullness of it overwhelming, has you whining and clutching at his shoulders because fuckfuck it's good, he's so good.

"God- Jake-"

He shushes you again gently, tilting your head and pressing his tongue to your pulse - sinking his teeth in there until you squirm and grind down hard on his dick, until you cry out. Jake's face when he pulls back is focused and tensed and you know he has to be close, because you know that you're close, the earlier high Jake has cruelly denied creeping closer inside your gut.

"Jake," you say again, and it's a whining plea, and as much as Jake likes to think he can deny you, he can't, too desperate to please you and hear his name in your mouth. He wets his first two fingers with his mouth, and reaches between your legs, pressing against your clit, dragging lightly around where you're spread open for him. Just close enough that he can feel the way your cunt has a vice grip on his cock, and then Jake is closer than he'd like to admit, and returns his attention to your clit.

Jake knows you well, know your body well, and knows just how to press and rub until you are shaking with the force of your orgasm, shattering around him with a desperate moan and burying your face against his neck. Jake fucks you through it, or tries, his thrusts becoming stuttering and aborted as he chases his own high.

"Hey," he gasps, "where-"

"Inside, inside," you say, still breathless, struggling to talk because every thrust is a jolt to your system, so deep you can feel it in your throat, and Jake growls, and wraps his arms around your waist, and falls off the edge with a rumbling moan.

Jake pets your waist absently, the pair of you struggling to catch your breath. He's still inside you, warm and softening, and you can feel the mess of his cum, and you smile a little, because you'll have to keep it inside until you get home.

"Are we going home now?" you ask, a little hoarse, voice croaky. Jake hums, rubs your back a little more firmly.

"I can take you home," he says, which means no, I still have things to do. 

"You don't have to," you tell him, sitting back until you could see his face. You smile and reach to stroke your thumb at the curve of his jaw. Jake makes a skeptical face.

"Like this?" he asks, palm smoothing up your thigh and curling around your waist, which means with my cum leaking out of you? 

You feel your grin growing on your flushed face, and relished the journey Jake's expression goes through, before settling on something a little dark and possessive. 

"Why not," you say. "I've still got my underwear."

Jake shakes his head, laughing, a short-lived, throaty thing.

"You're going to be the death of me one day," he says, and that means I love you.

"I sure hope not," you shoot back, and that means I love you, too.

#tppkinktober2022 #jake lockley x reader #18+ #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #jake lockley x gn!reader

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 1/24/2023

Well, I had my break. Mostly, what I did was download a new phone game where you run a restaurant, and wasted an enormous amount of time on that. No regrets.

I said last week was my break, but it's not really a break because I'm trying hard to only do stuff when I feel like it. I did start a new art piece which is going...slowly. It's going slowly because I'm taking my time, though, and I spent a million years on hands.

I would like to write, and I have two different things I am enthusiastic about working on, but unfortunately, if I sit down and try to write, my head just goes completely empty. This happens sometimes. Hopefully it will pass. It usually does. I've been trying to take care of other chores in the meantime, so that if my inspiration eventually returns, I'll be able to take advantage of it.

I've been trying to re-read some of the older parts of Heart is a Muscle, in preparation for writing a new part. I used to really like re-reading my writing, but I haven't been feeling it, to be honest. In art, there's a thing where your eye improves at a different rate than your hand, so sometimes, all of sudden, everything you draw looks like shit, but it's because you've leveled up in the ability to perceive art, not because you've gotten worse. I don't really ever think about myself as getting better at writing. I am a lazy writer and I do what I want, and I do not strive to improve my craft. I think I maybe have improved (or maybe just changed?) over the last three years, though, which is why my old writing feels so crusty. It's also possible that I'm just sick of my own voice. Kinda surprising it took that long to happen, tbh.

In other news, my aluminum plant cuttings have been growing roots! I'm so proud of them! I might repot them soon, and try to take some cuttings from my fittonia, and possibly my daughter's peperomia (because I want one). She's going on this houseplant journey with me, plus her room has some of the best light in the house. She took one of the pups her paddle plant made to school and gave it to her teacher. 😭😭😭 You have to understand that this is possibly the first time either of my children has had any interest in the things I care about. It's nice.

I made a sourdough bread today that was significantly better than last week's sourdough. I did make the mistake of proofing it in the oven, because the house was cold. I guess it was still a little too hot (I had heated it up to as low as it could go, and then turned it off again), or I should have spritzed my loaf with oil instead of water, or maybe just re-spritzed it every ten minutes or so, but the dough dried out a little and formed a skin, which meant that it couldn't rise and caramelize properly when I baked it. It was pretty ugly, but it tasted good and was very soft and squishy on the inside. The children, apparently, really like the dense, gluey rock I baked last week; they said both loaves were equally good. Whatever, my tasteless children.

I have been trying to keep my sourdough starter fed more regularly, so I've been looking for more things to do with discard (I already do pizza, pretzels, waffles, English muffins, and bagels). This week was sourdough morning glory muffins, which were very good, as morning glory muffins go (Mr. P loves morning glory muffins). It looks like that blog has lots of good discard recipes, so I may try out some more of them.

I guess that about covers it for this week. Will I do anything next week? We'll see!

#writing update #art update #burnout recovery update

[angelsanarchy]

Alone Together - Eddie/OC One-Shot Series PRT 2

Prt 1

Lunchtime was probably my least favorite part of the day at this point. I had thoroughly planned to keep eating in my car but the guidance counselor started talking to my dad about therapy as I was exhibiting "antisocial tendencies".

The truth was I didn't really feel comfortable anywhere. I walked through the cafeteria and felt like people were hoping I wouldn't sit with them or the eyes of people silently sending sympathy like I was going to drop dead at any moment. I decided I would find a table and start sitting there with headphones on so no one would approach me or try to tell me how "brave" or "strong" I was for just showing up to school and existing.

Keeping my head down in my notebook and tuning everything and everyone out seemed to be working. I felt the weight shift at the table but didn't bother looking up until I saw a ringed hand sneak across the table and steal one of my pretzels. I looked up and Eddie was smiling at me. I shook my head and removed my headphones.

"I'd ask if I can help you but you seem to be helping yourself." I shut my notebook.

"I noticed you were over here trying to blend in with the table so I figured I would sneak a few snacks and check in on you." Eddie smirked, keeping his voice low enough that he didn't draw attention to us. I silently pushed the open bag towards him and he lifted his eyebrow assuring he understood the gesture was welcomed.

"Apparently it's frowned upon to eat in your car so I've been banished to the cafeteria where I can be social and inviting for all those who wish to gawk and feel sorry for me." Eddie leaned across the table.

"Would you like me to make a scene? Take some of those eyes off you for a bit? I'm pretty good at lunchtime chaos." He smirked and I knew he would hop on this table in a heartbeat.

"As noble as that sounds, I think I'll keep it in the back pocket for now. No need to drag you into my self-loathing for the day." I patted his hand graciously.

"As the resident metal head, I feel it's my job to see what you're currently listening to in order to make a decision on our future conversations." Eddie slid my walkman across the table to pop open the cassette deck.

"Journey...bit soft but I suppose it could be much worse. It also suits you." He shut the walkman before stealing another pretzel.

"Suits me? Do tell." I laughed.

"You're a soft badass. You've got this very sweet, quiet demeanor but you've been through shit. You're tough, no matter what these narbos think, you don't need anyone's sympathy or empty words." Eddie had a way about him that could pull the attention to him with loud and dramatic statements but what a lot of people didn't seem to realize was he too had this softness.

"Hey Danielle, is this freak bothering you?" I jumped at the sudden voice behind me and Eddie leaned back from me.

"Don't you have balls to dribble or sermons to conduct?" Eddie fired back.

"Look freak-" I cut them off by standing up, gathering my things, and looking at Jason.

"That's enough. I can handle myself just fine, thanks. Eddie wasn't bothering me, I don't need help and my name is Dani. if you actually knew me beyond what your prayer circles and gossiping mothers say you would know that." Jason looked dumbfounded.

"I'm sorry I didn't know-" I cut him off once more.

"Of course, you don't. No one bothers actually knowing me. They just want to patronize and coddle me like I'm glass. I'm not anyone's charity case and I don't need saving." I raised my voice and now realized everyone was staring.

"Now if no one has anything positive to say I'm going to go back to my original plan and eat in my car." Jason looked embarrassed and backed away quickly with his hands up. Eddie followed me to the door touching my arm to stop me.

"Hey...can I level with you? Stop trying to blend in. It's never going to work. You can try to hide in your notebook or tune everyone out but you are far too superior to be normal Dani Murillo." I felt the blush on my cheeks and tucked my hair behind my ear. I held out the remaining pretzels and he took them awkwardly.

"Thanks...you still owe me a bag of pretzels." He had eaten the majority of the bag so I felt it was a decent way to accept his kindness and not say anything that would make me look stupid. He snorted a laugh before kicking the door open and holding it for me to pass through.

#ST #Stranger Things #eddie munson #Eddie x OC #Dani Murillo #One shot series

[fragileizywriting]

luka probably has to drag marinette to the gym. kicking and screaming, because marinette HATES weight training. she likes cardio. she likes endurance runs. she likes the bicycle. the elliptical is nice. even the stairmaster is doable.

she hates lifting weights.

with a PASSION.

“i don’t want muscles,” she whines. “i like being soft and small. i’m cute and nice like this.”

she worked hard for this tummy!

“i’m not gonna make you ripped,” he snorts. there’s a roll of his eyes, so youthful that she wants to see it again. “you know i like you like this.”

“then do not make me pull weights!”

“but you said you wanted muscle definition, didn’t you?”

she pokes his nose with a buzzer noise, bapping the rug with the paddle shape of her spade. “i was drunk.”

“sober.”

“i wasn’t serious.”

“i believe you were very serious when you asked adrien to help you do the dirty dancing lift scene but you’d lift him instead of the other way around.”

they nearly broke a dining chair, but it was funny.

still, she grumbles and tucks herself harder into the couch. “noooo. i was kidding. please don’t make me do the thing.”

she thinks the conversation is over because luka goes quiet. stupid mistake, honestly, but one she’s made none the less. she goes back to drawing in her sketchbook, thinking about her jelly gouache she has to clean up before taking on this painting, already lost in her world, when luka interrupts it with a: “i’ll eat you out in the truck afterwards.”

she won’t give in. even though luka’s favorite pastime is putting her into a pretzel. even as her tail twitches with interest. sellout. “tempting, but your back will hurt for five thousand years afterwards and i’ll be super sweaty, so no.”

“i’ll give you a nice protein shake to take with you.”

ha. “i’m so surprised you didn’t flinch while saying that.”

“i’ve gotten used to it,” he sighs. “anyway, protein shake.”

she giggles. “pass. can get one at home from adrien without having to pull weights afterwards.”

“protein shake and i’ll fuck you in the locker room bathroom. i’ll let you be as loud as you want when you sit on my face when i’m cleaning you out.”

bingo. oh, she’s won the lottery.

marinette shoots out of the couch, dashing for the closet. “where are my bike shorts?”

marinette: kitty-cat can you meet us at the gym todaaaaaay (´ ε ` )❣️

adrien: Sure. Why?

adrien: Everything okay?

luka: She’s being a drama queen

marinette: empress***

luka: 🤷🏻‍♀️ drama Empress

adrien: ????

marinette: luka convinced me to work out

marinette: (＃￣0￣)💔 i want you there for moral support??? plzzzzzz?

adrien: Hmmm.

marinette: don’t say hmmmm!!!! look at how cute i look in these bikeshorts

marinette: [image]

marinette: 🍑??? (っ˘ڡ˘ς) come eat it up at the gym

luka: 🥯

#speakizys #demon lovin #adrien can’t resist. obviously

[toribookworm22]

And a return happy STS to you!

Okay! Pick 3-4 of your favorite characters you've ever made. They can be from current works, past works, one offs, whatever. Got them? Good! They are at the County Fair! This place has all your standard US attractions. Elephant Ears, Funnel Cake, a Ferris wheel, scary house/maze, etc. What is everyone doing until the BIG FIREWORK SHOW in the evening? For the sake of ease, all attractions are free (came with price of admission) and everyone has like 100 bucks to spend on food, drink, souvenirs, or whatever.

If you feel like there would be some date action, there is also a Tunnel of Love of course.

Get silly and fanfictiony with it!

Hey, love! Thanks for the ask!

My picks are:

Tomas, Rolyn, & Maybelle all from The Animatronic Saga. Ready?

I'm starting to think was a terrible idea.

Not many people could've convinced me to come here in the first place, what with the merriment and the noise and the people, but I have an annoyingly large soft spot for the boys that they are now willing to abuse.

Rolyn brushes his pinkie against mine, signal for: Can I grab your hand?

Yeah. Soft spot, all right.

I grip his palm in mine, maybe a little tighter than necessary. "You alright?"

"Fine." My voice has gone reedy.

We step forward in the little line to ride the Ferris Wheel. I risk a glance up at it. Nope. Still looks like a death trap up close. My fingers start tapping against the back of Rolyn's hand.

"Okay, tough guy." He draws the hands we're holding up and around my shoulder-- no, I'm not sure how-- and tugs me out of the line.

Tomas sidles up on my other side. "Not like we have to ride it, Maybelle."

"What?" I feel so small between them and not just because I'm so much shorter. "We can ride it if you want to. I don't mind."

Tomas grins, eyes glinting. "Nice try. This is your first fair and we're only doing what you want to do. So what's first?"

Turned away from the giant death wheel, I'm now face to face with the rest of the monstrosity fair. Overlapping sounds echo from the line of games to our left. There's a few other rides to our right. And dead ahead: "I'm hungry. You hungry?"

Rolyn finally releases my hand, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a neat fold of cash. "Let's go, party people!"

I get one of those too-big-to-hold pretzels and a slushie that tastes more like pure caffeine then a coke. Behind the stand is a ring of picnic tables. I snag the one not already sticky, laying down a few napkins so my pretzel won't spill out onto the wood when it enevitably slips from its paper sleeve.

The first bite isn't half bad. "You've gotta dip it in the cheese," Tomas says, holding out a little plastic container of.

Nose scrunching up, I hesitantly do. "Whatever that is, it's not cheese." I grimace but let it into my mouth and- "Adenrore, that is yummy."

"Told you," Tomas laughs, taking a sip of Rolyn's Sprite.

Rolyn steals it back with a squawk. "Hands off my drink, you gremlin!"

Tomas just turns to me, making Granby hands at my slushie. "What flavor d'you get?"

Shrugging, I slide him the cup. He takes a dip then smacks his lips. "What is that?"

"Was supposed to be coke."

"That is not coke."

Rolyn extends a hand. "Let me try." Takes a sip. "That could be coke."

"Blasphemy." Tomas snatches back my drink. Slurps some more. "Nope. I don't know what it is." Takes another sip.

"Oh my gosh, you have your coding own!"

They both start to laugh, taking bites out of their own snacks. About halfway through my pretzel, my anxiety finally starts fading out. And since there's no way I'm going to finish the whole thing...

"Who's up for some games?"

...

The ground slips away from our feet, the bench swaying a little in the warm wind. There's a giant turtle cushioned on my lap, Rolyn and Tomas’s held hands sitting on top of it. I take a deep breath.

"Yeah?"

I nod, eyes locked on the where the last bits of sunset are. "Yeah. I'm okay."

The boys each lean a little closer into me. "Proud of you, Maybelle."

We stop at the top for a moment. The sky goes dark and there, from the field, they start firing off the fireworks. I've seen several countries and another planet, visited Caverns and traveled through a night sky of stars.

But this is pretty coding beautiful.

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #sweet asks #storyteller saturday asks #animatronic saga #my boys #maybelle clark #very proud of the first half #then i fell asleep and had to wrap it up somehow 😄

[stray-kaz]

18+

The Water Nymph: 7

Storming blindly through the palace, Drea found herself standing at the edge of a wide open atrium, trees clustered all around. Tipping back her head, she glimpsed blue patches of sky through the leaves. She sat down hard on the dirt, ignoring the burn in her blood. She started to draw in the dust, the outline of a fox appearing under her fingers.

She heard footsteps and the roaring in her ears told her it was Wil. His hand landed on her shoulder and she shrugged it off. He sat down in front of her, legs folded beneath him like a pretzel.

"Drea" he said quietly, urgently. "What you just saw wasn't supposed to happen. She's a girl who saved my life from a troll and then stole from me. I took back what she stole and she came back for it again. I barely know her."

Drea raised her head just enough to see his eyes peering at her. They were wide, earnest, as blue as the sky patches above their heads.

"But well enough to let her mount you like a horse."

Her tone was harsh and acidic, making Wil flinch.

"It wasn't like that" he muttered, though even he was aware how weak that sounded.

Drea rose fluidly to her feet, glaring down at him.

"Then why did it happen?" she demanded angrily, fists propped on her hips. "Why did you let her do that? I've been wanting you for days, ever since the river, but I haven't climbed atop you like a common rover chit."

Wil scrambled to his feet, staring down at her, her previous height advantage now gone. His mind was whirling, but he answered her question.

"I imagined it was you" he said softly. "I wanted it to be you, Drea. You want me, too?"

She stared up at him, golden eyes glowing with barely repressed desire.

"Wil Ohmsford, I am a shapeshifter in heat. My gut has been telling me you are one of my mates and it has been making me crazy!"

Blond eyebrows rose.

"One of your mates?" he asked hesitantly.

Drea flushed even pinker than she had already been.

"Well, the only one, really" she mumbled. "I just didn't want to make you feel under pressure to -"

She was cut off by the slant of his mouth against hers. His hands came down heavily on her hips, pulling her in to meet his. She could already feel him through the supple leather of his trousers, and a soft sigh breathed from her lungs into his.

Drea lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, carding her fingers through his long blond hair. She wound it into a thick ponytail in her fist and tugged, pulling his searing lips off of hers and baring his throat. His pulse jumped and she leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss it, loosening her grip on his hair.

"How bad is it?" Wil whispered, his voice a desperate rasp in her ears.

"What?" she gasped, mind too blurred to focus.

"How bad is the heat? How bad does it hurt?"

"Hurt? Why?"

Wil's eyes widened in surprise.

"You really don't know what you're doing, do you?"

Confused, Drea looked down to see Wil's left thigh in between hers, her hips moving desperately against it. Immediately, she stopped and took a step back, ashamed by her behaviour.

"I'm sorry, Wil."

In response, he grabbed her by her thighs and lifted her, squeezing until she hooked her legs around him. Wil's lips pressed against hers again and she moaned as she felt him push hard between her legs. He smiled, his teeth grazing her bottom lip as he began to walk her backwards through the trees.

He found a clearing and slowly went down to his knees before gently lowering Drea onto her back in the long daisy grasses. He marveled at her blown out pupils and the way her hands shook as she reached for him. He dragged his shirt over his head and hissed quietly through his teeth as Drea raked her nails gently over his nipples and down his stomach, to the waistband of his pants. She tugged and he lost his balance, falling over her only to roll to the side and take her with him.

He buried his face in her neck and blindly worked at the cords at the front of her pants, loosening them enough to be able to yank them down. He hadn't noticed Drea doing the same with his until her fingers were wrapped around him and she arched her hips up high, giving him no other option but to sink inside her heat, blue eyes rolling back and golden ones fluttering closed in bliss.

He groaned into her neck, hips already snapping forward at a bruising pace. Drea mewled and twisted, digging her fingernails into his shoulders and trying to draw him even closer, their chests colliding.

Wil was proud of his past stamina, but he had no previous idea that a shape-shifting woman could orgasm several times in a row, which is precisely what happened.

He watched, slack-jawed, as Drea's eyelids slammed shut, her back arched so hard it cracked, and she spasmed around him seven times.

SEVEN.

He couldn't hold on any longer; his hips pummelled hers, and he released all he had into her, sending heat soaring through her body, before shuddering and collapsing on her, hips continuing to twitch.

Drea stretched languidly beneath him, purring and gently kissing the tip of his ear. She listened to him breathing and grinned; he was utterly spent and already sleeping.

@foreverdolly @karamelcoveredolicity

#how did I do? #should there be a baby? #wil ohmsford x oc #wil ohmsford ficlet #the water nymph

[apaise]

❛ it’s a bad idea, right? ❜ ash @ maddy

with the girl scouts' international festival happening in just two weeks, maddy had been even busier than usual, coordinating with various troops across the county in hopes of making this the best carnival yet. but she would've been swallowed by the mountains of binders and papier-mâché by week one if it wasn't for ash helping her every step of the way.

ash's creative eye was absolutely essential in organizing the festival brochure in a colorful yet streamlined way ( not maddy's strongpoint ). maddy made certain to include ash's name in bold font on the front so everyone could see, while also making sure to update ash's resume accordingly, not wanting any of her incredible accomplishments to be forgotten.

but even if her girlfriend was just sequestered in the corner sketching or reading comics while maddy drafted the event map or vendor list, ash had truly become a crucial part of maddy's every day life. she had a special way of re-centering maddy amidst the chaos, ushering her away from the spirals of self-criticism. ash could spot the beginnings of a maddy fisher breakdown from a mile away, and she'd take the troop leader out for a soft pretzel in the park for some much needed sunshine, or suggest they bake cookies for the youth center. all of maddy's favorite things, not ash's, but maddy treasured the support much more than she could fit on a measly hallmark card.

she didn't know how she functioned without ash before, but she was determined to thank her girlfriend properly. luckily, with all ash's help, maddy had realized they were ahead of schedule, and she could just about manage four nights off before the big palooza. for those precious days before the festival, maddy had planned a getaway at the maplewood camping grounds. no binders, no phone calls, no posterboards; they could even bring benny. admittedly, it wouldn't be easy for maddy to relax like that, but she owed ash, and she wanted to try. she was excited for it, to make new memories somewhere beautiful where ash could burn and fish and draw to her heart's content.

but as they wind down for the night and maddy readies to finally tell ash about her big surprise, ash has something to share first.

maddy hears the word tour and for a second, there's just a ringing sound in her ears, pulsating through her head and flooding out all other thought. then pieces of her voice start filtering through one by one, words like "stadium" and "san francisco" and "plane" and "months," striking, echoing. oh no no no no no. no, maddy hadn't even been able to tell her about their trip; no, was this punishment for forcing ash to stick beside her all these weeks? panic and regret slog over whatever sentences are forming in maddy's mind, mushing them into silence.

but then maddy focuses her gaze on ash and she notices how small and hesitant and anxious she looks, and her hands go for ash's without another thought.

❝ bad idea? ❞ she repeats, squeezing her hands selfishly not merely for comfort, but to keep herself rooted too; she feels ash is about to float away before her. ❝ ash, it sounds amazing. you can't pass this up! ❞ maddy shakes her hands lightly, bit by bit feeling her strength return. this isn't about her, or even them; it's about ash and how she lights up in front of her drums. ❝ the world needs to hear your music! hillford can't keep you all to itself, ❞ she grins, and it's surprising how easy it is to reassure her. but these are all things maddy has always believed ( she just never expected the cost ).

❝ you're going to have so much fun, ash, ❞ her smile softens; she quickly teases herself before the tears can start. ❝ take lots of pictures for me, okay? we have to make a tour scrapbook when you get back. ❞ @feveredblurs

#( me writing this being like tee hee gotta throw in one of those lil dramatic moments where someone was planning smth secretly ) #( but i honestly did not expect maddy to be so sad like :| usually she'd just be super pumped for ash LKJASDF ) #( BUT SHE REALLY DOES LOVE HER AND HAS GROWN USED TO HAVING HER ) #( DIDN'T REALIZE HOW MUCH SHE RELIES ON HER ) #( SHE'S HAPPY FOR HER THO ) #feveredblurs #( c: maddy ) #( answered . )

[frostedfaves]

Naive (1)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Of all the humans Wanda has met, you’re suddenly her favorite.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️ (be warned that this shit will get much darker in the future), subtle hand kink (don’t @ me)

A/N: special shoutout to the anon that inspired this fic series, I hope you enjoy this weird combo of AOU x IW Wanda. also if you have any previous knowledge of demons, throw it out the window before you read this because I guarantee that things will not add up here lmao

-

Wanda’s favorite thing about interacting with humans is her effect on them.

Walking through a crowd is fine. She’ll brush a few shoulders and rattle a few unsuspecting adults, flash solid black eyes at kids that either stare or scream. It’s temporary and brings a bit of fun to an otherwise dull day.

The real joy comes from direct contact. Wanda travels miles away from her apartment building, choosing different stores, restaurants and cafés just to keep things interesting. A new cashier each time. She’ll have an air of friendliness about her that isn’t exactly fake; she finds most humans to be charming, despite their fragile minds.

“Will that be all?” Roy--according to his name tag--asks with a grin and Wanda nods in response. “Okay, your total is $21.14. You can just swipe or insert your card in the machine there.”

Wanda inserts her card carefully, complimenting the decor as she waits for the transaction to be completed. After returning it to her wallet, she flashes a soft smile at Roy as he hands her the receipt, purposefully brushing her fingers with his. As his skin makes contact with one of her rings, she notices the goosebumps rising along his arm and hears his breathing pattern change.

“Roy? Everything alright?”

She hears the concerned voice of a coworker as she makes her way to a table to wait for her meal, already seated by the time Roy coughs in an effort to collect himself.

“Yeah, just feeling off I guess. I’ll be fine.”

A chuckle falls from her lips as she watches the poor cashier attempt to return to his previous state of mind, finding the urge to smile and wave when his eyes cut over to her. His voice trembles when he calls her name and he stands as far away as possible when she approaches the counter to grab her order.

“Thanks for everything, Roy.”

Sensing that he’s startled enough without it, she keeps her other tricks hidden in her sleeves and simply walks away, holding her laughter until the doors close behind her. A good meal with a side of human interaction, her absolute favorite.

-

The next day brings Wanda to a bookstore around lunchtime. She takes a minute to browse the aisles, taking an exceptionally long time lingering in the section harboring books on angels and demons. The stereotypes amuse more than upset her like they used to in the beginning.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

Wanda turns to make eye contact with the employee behind her, about to ask a question for the fun of it when a laugh catches her attention. Her gaze redirects to the café counter straight ahead, and a warm feeling washes over her when she hears the laugh again.

You’re genuinely entertained by the elderly woman purchasing a bagel with exact change, and Wanda manages to catch the end of the conversation as she draws near.

“Safe to say, I haven’t worn the blouse since that day.” She bids you farewell with her bagel and receipt in hand, eyes twinkling as she observes Wanda on her way past. “You have such bright and beautiful hair, dear.”

“Thank you,” Wanda responds with sincerity, attention locked on you while approaching the counter. “Hi.”

“Hey,” you greet her with a voice much calmer than the one you use with most of your other customers. “What can I get you today?”

You watch the orange haired woman turn her head to study the items behind the glass, taking the time to do your own inspection. You admire the dark red jacket that covers most of her torso, gaze lingering on the multiple rings hugging her fingers that seem to be smoothing nonexistent wrinkles in her dress, almost in a nervous fashion. It brought you a bit of comfort, assuming that she was affected in the same way.

“What do you recommend?”

“Oh, well…” You walk over to open the glass case from your side of the counter, naming each item as you grab it. “I usually have this pretzel that’s stuffed with spinach and cheese and this brownie. I can heat both of them for you, if you’d like.”

“I would love that,” Wanda responds in a grateful tone, placing a bottle of water on the counter after taking it from the fridge. “And I’ll also have one of these incredibly overpriced waters.”

You begin her order with a laugh, and she watches you ring everything up with the speed and expertise of a seasoned employee, wondering how she’d gone this long without running into you. The total price is brought to the digital screen just before her card is inserted, and she takes the time to quickly slip her rings into her pockets while you’re taking the pretzel and brownie over to the miniature oven. The last thing she wants to do is scramble your brain before she even gets the chance to explore it.

“Here’s your receipt,” you announce while giving Wanda the slip of paper, your eyes lingering on her hand for a moment before looking at her again. “Your food should be ready soon.”

“Okay, thank you…” Her sentence trails off as she searches for your name, the letters rolling off her tongue with ease when she finally locates it on the apron covering your chest.

“You’re welcome…” You trail off in the same fashion and she catches on quickly.

“Wanda.”

“You’re welcome, Wanda,” you repeat as you hand her the water bottle before she can walk away.

Less than two minutes later, you approach the table she’s taken over with two small ceramic plates and a sheepish grin.

“I should’ve asked if you were going to stay a while, but I can grab some bags if you need to go.”

Wanda shakes her head with a laugh as she takes them from you, startling you when she doesn’t react to the excessive heat radiating from the dishes.

“This is perfect.”

She takes her time with eating, and your attention is drawn to her between customers, grateful that she’s too busy with her phone to notice your stares. On the other hand, Wanda’s mind is filled with thoughts of you. What you look like when you think she can’t see you glancing over, what you smelled like when you were close. The nerves, the kindness, the desire to learn her name despite her being just another customer to you. She knows that you noticed her missing rings, but she’s already prepared with a cover story. A two minute conversation has her dying to pick your brain more, learn your habits and become more familiar with your body, beyond a simple brush of your fingertips. She already wants you to herself, just the way you came, without her interference for now; that’ll come later.

A good meal with a side of human interaction, her absolute favorite.

-

Despite Wanda leaving an hour before your shift ended, she lingers in your thoughts on the bus ride and walk home. You find yourself recalling her kind smile, fidgeting fingers and the scent of her perfume when she passed you on her way out, and you’re so deep in your memories that you end up colliding with your apartment door.

“That’s not going to get you inside any faster, dear.”

Your cheeks burn as you face Ruth for the second time today, the first time being earlier when you sold her a bagel.

“I know, Ruthie,” you respond sheepishly as you pull your keys from your pocket. “Is everything okay? You’re usually in bed watching a cowboy show by now.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to come home so I could talk to you.” She checks to see if the hallway is empty before opening her door and waving you over. “Come on, quickly.”

You scurry into the apartment behind her, taking in the scene before you while she locks the door. Having visited her before, you know she keeps the television at a higher volume, but it seems louder than normal.

“I know I might seem like I’ve lost my marbles, but I wanted to warn you about that woman you saw today....The one with the bright hair.”

“You mean Wanda?” you question, eyes widening when she nods. “Warn me about what?”

“There’s something off about that Wanda, if that even is her real name.” She snatches her arm out of her robe and brings it closer for you to see. “I’ve had these chills since I brushed against her earlier. Something’s not right with her. How do you even know her name? I’ve never seen her before.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you assure her as you help her slip her arm back in the sleeve. “I only know her name because we were having a friendly conversation and she used mine. I was just being polite to someone I’ll probably never even see again.”

“Just be careful,” she pleads as you head toward her door again, and you offer your best attempt at a relaxed smile.

“I’ll be fine, Ruthie. Get some rest, okay?”

You hear her lock the door behind you as you make your way back to your own apartment, rushing through the process of unlocking the door and securing it once you’re inside. As much as you don’t want to let Ruth get you worked up over a stranger, you can’t help thinking about the odd little things you noticed earlier. 

It isn’t unusual for someone to linger after buying food or drinks from your counter, whether they have homework or even just a phone to keep them busy. Wanda seemed to be waiting for someone the entire time, and you remember hoping that she wasn’t on a date, despite not wanting her to be stood up. But she simply slid her phone in her pocket and departed with a friendly wave as if nothing had happened.

You especially remember her waving at you with those ringless fingers, and wondering silently where the intricate jewelry had disappeared to. Obviously you just assumed that the rings were tucked away on her person and not dumped in the trash, but she doesn’t seem like the type of person to give up on her accessories in the middle of the day. Part of you--a part that you didn’t dare to address--wondered if she’d emptied her hands to send you a subtle sign. No, that can’t possibly be it.

Sleeping proves to be difficult with so many unanswered questions floating about, but you eventually give into the act. A few hours later, you peel open your eyes when you think you hear something in the room. The digital clock that sits on your bedside and serves as an alarm and occasional radio reads 3:34am, and you’re just about to close your eyes again when you hear another sound. You raise your head to turn toward your closet, and a scream is trapped in your throat as you catch sight of a figure in the shadows.

The next time you wake, the sun is out and your alarm is blaring on the nightstand beside you. Your gaze flickers over to the closet as you reach out to silence it, your heartbeat dropping slightly when you don’t see anything other than clothes. Deciding that you must’ve been dreaming, you shake away the fearful thoughts and head to the bathroom to start getting ready for another day of work.

The only thing you haven’t decided on yet is whether you want to see Wanda again.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #frosty's dark!fics