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#might make this into a full fic...opinions?
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Worm Fanfic Recs
No rankings at play here, just my favorite fics that I think other are really good. There are fics I like that aren't listed because I have a bad memory, but everything here is something I really really enjoyed. I have biases obviously, this isn't objective.
The Fics
Our Private Crises - A nailbiting murder mystery with unique and well done POVs from a different character each chapter. The mystery and reveal at the end were stellar, and it got me attached to characters I never thought I'd care for. 29k words. Complete.
It's Cold Out There Every Day - Missy is trapped in a time loop on her birthday. Genuinely stellar characterization, it has the best Missy and Aisha I've ever read and its such a creative and well executed premise. 41k words. Complete.
Tilt - Unpowered homeless girl Taylor fakes a thinker power to get in the Wards and secure housing. She's even more self destructive and self deprecating than in canon. 10/10 characterization for a slew of POV characters including Taylor, every ward but especially Sophia, Rachel, Lisa, and a ton of other characters. Despite not going through all of what canon Taylor went through, this fic nails her character better than pretty much any others. 220k words at time of posting. Updating consistently.
Tear Apart, Stitch Together - Taylor triggers with Shatterbird's power and kills thousands. Short and sweet, everything that's there is great and it wraps up well I think. 13k words. Complete
Memories of a Simurgh Victim - The Simurgh attacks Brockton Bay. Has two storylines, one following Taylor and one following Amy and Vicky. Among the most fucked up things this fandom has to offer, a terrifying showcase of the Simurgh and her power. 62k words. Taylor's story is incomplete but the Amy and Victoria story is done.
Desperate Times Call For Desperate Pleasures - Cherish altpower Taylor tries to consensually fix Amy's incest fetish. A trainwreck I can't look away from, the worlds first psychological horror romcom. It's so fucked up and so amazingly funny, and has good well written characters. I don't like Pillbug and I'm not a big fan of altpowers, but this fic is still one of my favorites because it's so damn compelling so definitely check it out if you actually like either of those things. 211k words at time of posting. Updating consistently.
Roots - The Slaughterhouse Nine attack a small town with a roster of OC capes, but something is very off about the place. POV shifts every chapter, and the OCs are interesting and unique. The S9 are also wonderfully characterized here, I've never had a fic make me sad for Crawler of all people. 67k words at time of posting. Ongoing. Criminally underrated.
Roma Fade - Ciara and Fortuna both try to grow past who they were as capes and find themselves as people in a small town post Gold Morning, having found common ground posing as moms to a recovering Taylor. I'm sure fake dating would never end in real attraction, that would be absurd. Incredibly gay, incredible characterization for everyone, the best post-GM fic around in my opinion. 87k words at time of posting. Ongoing but currently on hiatus.
Case - Lisa and the Simurgh start a detective agency. It's just great humor and a lovely story and wonderful despite being short and deceased. 14k words. Dead.
Silence is not Consent - Taylor intervenes and saves Victoria from Amy and gives her a place to stay, Victoria massively struggles dealing with what happened. Amazing characterization, Victoria's POV is unique and incredibly well done, and her seeing Taylor from an outside perspective is interesting. Be warned that this is a very heavy fic emotionally, but it's really fucking good. 212k words at time of posting. Updating consistently.
A Word - Altpower Taylor is obsessed with writing a story. I don''t know how to describe this fic honestly it's hard to do justice, but it has perhaps the best conclusion to Gold Morning I've seen in a fanfic. 11k words. Complete.
Scarab - A fantasy AU where powers are thought to be magic, and the Faerie Queen takes an interest in Taylor. Filled to the brim with creativity and passion, this fic is teeming with fresh ideas and interesting depictions of canon characters. The worldbuilding is great as well, no other fic on this list has a map, so this is clearly a cut above the rest. 139k words at time of posting. Updating consistently.
Swallowtail - Ok I lied this one has a map too. Taylor with an incredibly interesting stranger power joins Faultline's crew. There is a truly astounding amount of AU elements and alternate powers for canon characters, it feels like a new world while still being recognizable and distinctly Worm. Has a large amount of alternate POVs and the first arc can be rough, but it's creative and amazing. 360k words. Ongoing but currently on haitus.
Soliloquy - Ex-Slaughterhouse 9 Taylor is in prison, bitter at the world and herself and especially her clone who saved the multiverse. A heavy fic about someone slowly recovering and becoming a better person when they're convinced it can't be done. Made me cry. 71k words. Complete.
TWNY - Post-GM Taylor finds herself in the world of RWBY with a pair of moth antennae. Multiple POVs, all very interesting despite me knowing nothing of RWBY. Probably the best characterization of Taylor in any post-GM crossover fic, she's heartbreaking in the recent arc, and it feels like the fic has barely scratched the surface of what it'll eventually cover. Also it's very gay. 136k words. Ongoing.
The Great Escape - Eidolon is struggling after his reputation is destroyed and Cauldron is revealed, and then the Birdcage opens. Amazing use of seldom seen characters, great POV with Eidolon, well done and interesting fights, has String Theory. 107k words. Ongoing but currently on haitus.
Happiness Is Inevitable - NSFW. The only damn erotic mind control Simurgh smut in the fandom somehow. Besides the porn (which is a lot of the fic, who woulda thunk it) the story itself is actually pretty interesting and has a lot of creative parts, and it has better characterization than most fics. 29k words. Ongoing?
Oneshots
Break me so that I can be whole - This accursed fandom is tragically bereft of QA / Taylor fics, but this one shot is great, love an eldritch take on shards. Probably fucked up but I'm not actually a good judge of that so be warned. 1.8k words.
Book Worm - Dragon helps teach Taylor how to read and speak and understand language post-GM. Bittersweet and lovely. 2.5k words.
Defiant Didn't Dox Saint For Nothing! - Taylor goes back in time and the first thing she does is kill Saint because he sucks. Cracky but I like it, fun little oneshot. 1.6k words.
Ruling Ash - Glory Girl flees Brockton Bay during the Slaughterhouse Nine and ends up living with Damsel of Distress. Cute, and Starsong before Ward is very interesting. 2.8k words.
My Sunshine - Leviathan goes worse and Brockton Bay is destroyed. Taylor and Victoria survive. Very somber, but well executed. 3.4k words.
Cherry on Top - A character study of Cherie Vasil, showing how she went from running away from Heartbreaker to joining the Nine. Extremely well written, absolutely incredible depiction of her character. It depicts abuse and actions typical of Heartbreaker and Cherie, so be careful reading. It's a lot emotionally. 12.7k words.
Devil in a New Dress - NSFW. Shatterbird / Reader, I'm not explaining myself on this one. Neat Shatterbird characterization, hot, pretty fucked up so be warned. 1.7k words.
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megamindsupremacy · 2 years
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okay this might be weird to say but could u explain ur MCU Ao3 post? I am genuinely confused by what u meant, like I can see how some of those tags could be upsetting on the pairing page but like, I don't get what u meant.
again this is completely genuine, I'm very bad at reading between the lines and wanna know what u meant
OH sorry I was being vague, sometimes I forget I have followers and I’m not just posting into a void. Disclaimer, all of these are just my opinions, if you try to argue with me I will find it mildly funny at most. Mostly I was just complaining about some (not all) of the pairings in the tags. The ones that I personally dislike in there are Stony, Peter&Tony, Loki/Thor, Bucky/Reader, Loki/Tony. Normally it takes me like ten minutes of straight filtering before I even bother to actually start looking at fics in the Marvel tag which! That gets tedious! So normally I don’t bother
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messylustt · 11 months
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲?
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.4K words
fic masterlist previous part pt three next part
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miguel unwillingly pining after reader; fantasies about you in miguel’s head; a massage (pg); a hint of jealous miguel; spanish wise—I hope I wrote everything correctly, I asked for some opinions and check ups from a spanish speaker <3 big thanks to you — after an interesting morning with miguel, you learnt a few more spanish words, not to be late, and having him in close proximity might give you a heart attack. your mind certainly wandered when you were monitoring a mission, the spider peoples’ bickering making you feel annoyed, an emotion miguel unwillingly likes the look of on you. but how does he feel when he makes his request… asking you to follow him to a door you didn’t think you’d ever pass through?
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“Checking the location now.” You said through your ear piece, tapping away at the keyboard. Your back was straightened as you stayed focused. You were working with a group of spider variants, who were assigned to get rid of a misplaced “villain” as they liked to put it. It just makes their job sound much more important, resulting in then coming back with a proud sway to their hips.
“Bro, why are you breathing so hard?” Hissed one of the spider variants to another.
“I’m settling into my hero act.” His tone is full of pronounced muscle—most likely standing with his arms by his side like some macho man. He takes a deep sigh. “It can be tough being such a incredible hero.”
The others just stare, clearly used to this from him, before a screech meets everyone’s ears.
“Where is it?!” One of them exclaims, frantically looking around.
“It would’ve blended into one of the buildings’ walls.” You say, scanning the area on your computer.
“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘blended in’?” A spider-man asks. “What is this monster—a chameleon?”
You’re silent for a moment. “Please tell you me reviewed the mission.”
There’s silence through the earpiece. You blink a few times, then close your eyes taking a deep breath. “Why not?”
“Look, I was going to but…Parker distracted me!”
“I distracted you?!” Parker exclaimed.
“Guys.” You try, but they either can’t hear you or are choosing not to.
“You were the one who was so eager to just defeat this villain!”
In your annoyed state, you can’t help but let your mind wander somewhere that had held your attention for majority of the day…
—this morning—
You rushed down the stairs, while simultaneously fixing your hair. Shit, you were gonna be late. All because of these extensive stairs.
When you reached the bottom, your hair had become a mess again, making you place your flat palms against your head as you tried to soothe the stray hairs.
You reach the door to your office, pausing to take a breath. Twisting the handle, you walked inside.
You instantly noticed Miguel, spider suit back on, as he swiped necessary and unnecessary screens back and forth by the large spider.
You tried to stay quiet as you walked to your desk, but your luck seems to plainly not exist as Miguel’s voice greets you—rather gruffly.
“Would it be cliché to say ‘you’re late’?”
You press your lips together as he jumps down. You seem to forget how tall he is until he’s towering over you, with a look that states ‘you should be worried’.
You gulp, before forcing a smile. Miguel’s expression stays dead as he waits for you to speak, most likely to explain yourself.
When you say nothing your mouth opening and closing like a stupid fish, Miguel speaks. “I said six.”
You nod. “I heard you.”
“Did you?” His clicks his jaw, a slight tilt to his head, as he observed your quickly fixed hair and slight heave of your chest. You clearly rushed. “You just woke up.”
“No.” You say indignantly. “I’ve been awake since six, I just didn’t like the idea of walking down those stairs, so…I began working in my room.”
“Uh huh.” He sarcastically nods. “Right.”
You press your lips together, thinking you should have stitched them shut. You weren’t helping yourself.
“You keep saying you want to prove that you belong here.” Miguel begins. He leans forward, his red eyes gleaming, his fangs becoming more visible as he snarls. “If you don’t start getting here at six, then I’ll be happy to drag you out at four.”
He leans back, stalking back towards the big spider, as he webs himself up to the top. You let out a sigh, turning to your desk and swivel chair.
;;
After an hour or so of working, and going over the mission scheduled in a few hours, you feel a breath by your neck. With wide eyes you spin around to see Miguel staring down at you.
When he meets your gaze, you’re placing your hand over your heart. “Can you not scare me like that?” You mutter out.
He leans forward…and forward… and forward, until his large hands are caging you in by resting them on the chair’s armrests. “Scare?” He almost whispers in question to himself.
You’re utterly frozen as his breath tickles your nose and cheeks, which you are sure to be an embarrassing red by now.
“O’hara?” You slowly question, it comes out quieter than you had intended.
His eyes stay focused on your own, as your pulse beats rapidly in your chest. Stop it— you want to say. But you’re not sure what ‘it’ is exactly.
“…did you need something?” It’s the only thing you can think to say.
“What do you mean by scare?” He asks.
You lightly shift in your chair, unsure what to do in this situation. “Um…I just mean that you’re…you are kinda scary, O’hara.” You force a chuckle, trying to ease tension you are sure is the annoyance radiating off of him.
“Is it the fangs?” He asks, his eyes strangely showing genuine interest—or what you think to be genuine.
“Kind of?” You say more so as a question. “But also how you never, well…smile.”
“Why should I smile at people I don’t want to smile at?” He asks, his eyes finally dropping away from the entrapment of your own, but to a much worser place.
You self consciously lick your lips, feeling your nerves turning them dry. His gaze doesn’t shift from your mouth for an abnormally long time.
“O’hara.”
His brows then begin to furrow, his eyes finally leaving your lips, making you unintentionally sigh.
“Why do you refer to me by my last name?”
“What does ‘chaparrita’ mean?” You counter.
He narrows his eyes, leaning away from you and back to his full height. “You ready for your lesson?” He suddenly asks, grabbing a swivel chair and leaning back.
You stare at him for a moment. So that was what he was supposed to ask this whole time? “Okay, if you tell me—“
“No.” He says monotonously. “Ahora deja de hacer preguntas y siéntate y escucha.” (Now stop asking questions and sit and listen.)
You didn’t understand what he just said but you can understand his tone, so you readjust yourself on your chair and stay silent.
“Now…what do you say when you want help?” Miguel inquires, his tone now almost babying.
You narrow your eyes, but answer anyway. “¿Me puede ayudar, por favor?”
“Mm.” He hums, letting his gaze drop. “Bien.”
Miguel notices the slight curve of your lips at his praise. He shifts in his seat. “I hope you know what that means.”
Your small smile falls, before a fake one replaces it. “Yes, O’hara, I do know what that one means.”
“You should loose the attitude, chaparrita. Si es que quieres mi ayuda” (If you want my help, that is.) He says, running his tongue along one of his fangs.
“I understood “my help”.” You say. “And the one with the attitude here is you.”
“How so?”
You raise your brows. “Do I need to answer that? I thought you were observant?” Okay, now you were just pushing his buttons for fun. He seemed to get riled up so easily.
A scowl forms on his face. “Si no fueras tan pinche bonita, creo que me gustaría verte arañada” (If you weren’t so annoyingly pretty, I think I’d like to see you clawed up.) He mutters under his breath, his gaze slightly venomous.
“¿Cómo estás?” Miguel says. “Repeat it.”
“¿Cómo estás?” You repeat.
“That means “how are you?”. And what could you reply with?” He inquires.
“Bien.” You answer.
“Mejor.”
“‘Better’?” You say with a scoff. “I feel like I should get a bit more credit…Spanish is hard.”
“First of all—it’s not.” Miguel states. “Second…you know what ‘mejor’ means?”
“It was one of the words I learnt on my phone.” You shrug.
“Any other words I should I know about?” He sounds annoyed, and you can’t fathom why.
“You’re annoyed at that? To be honest I thought you’d be grateful.”
He doesn’t say anything. Mainly because he can’t say the first reason that popped into his head. He wanted you to learn Spanish—all of it—from him, and only him. He also can’t tell you because he doesn’t know why he feels that way. It was stupid, feeling resentful to a phone, utterly stupid, but Miguel can’t ignore the nagging feeling in his stomach.
—present—
“Shut up!” You exclaim, massaging your temples.
There’s finally silence on the other end.
“The invisible monster is moving your way, on the left wall. You’ll be able to spot a slight glimmering shimmer over him. If you look close enough.”
You finally see the spider variants pick up into action, spotting the monster and beginning to attack.
Miguel watched from afar, leant by the open door to the main tech room, arms crossed as he watched you lean back in annoyance. When you were mad your eyes would hood over, narrowing to show only half of your pupils.
You would aways grow hot, occasionally fanning yourself as you unbuttoned the first button of your shirt. And Miguel would always stare, his chest picking up to a quicker beat. But the scowl would be set, Miguel hating the way he reacted. He shouldn’t be reacting at all. He felt pathetic, as he tried to look away.
Every time he’d fail, his gaze only shifting further down your body. Your legs were yet again…spread. An obviously comfortable position for you, but certainly not Miguel.
He’s embarrassed to admit—not that he’s ever actually—that he’s fantasised about being close to your spread legs, his hands being able to spread them further. You were a reactive girl, very hyper aware for a human. He hoped you’d stay the same when he’d touch you.
Your chest heaving, your mouth opening, as goosebumps littered your skin. Skin he’d be able to see a lot more of.
And to all these fantasies he would hate himself, and you. Sure, he was projecting. But he’d rather project anger then any of his hidden thoughts.
“Is it my turn now?” He asks, making you spin in your chair to face the exit and Miguel.
You had finally taken out your headpiece, the mission clearly completed. The spider-men would get back soon. A look of confusion flashed across your features before realisation hits. ‘His turn’. His side of the deal.
You stand, straightening your slightly crumpled shirt—you had been fisting the material in your annoyed state. Miguel ignores the thoughts of instead a crumpled sheet. Your fists clenching around, preferably, his—no. Not preferably his. He clears his head, biting his inside cheek, the metallic taste of blood now tangible.
“Follow me.” He turns, expecting you to do so.
And you do, walking past all the different spider variants in an effort to stay at Miguel’s heels.
Through the journey up the stairs, Miguel—who doesn’t know why he’s walking with you—has been having thoughts. Very…interesting thoughts. Some seeming very similar to those of ‘finding you annoyed kinda hot’ type of thoughts. It also fell back to the thoughts swirling in his head when he was looking at your lips.
He hadn’t meant to do that, his body seeming to have had a mind of its own when he leant over, caging you in.
He’s annoyed to admit—to himself—that he had wanted to kiss you. See what it felt like. Maybe he’d hate it and his strange, annoying crush on you would go.
He’s soon stopped by his room, finally glancing at you, to see that you look confused. “I thought I was doing what you asked…or whatever.” You say, slowing your breathing.
“You are.” He opens his door, walking in.
You watch him, brows still furrowed. You stay rooted to the hallway floor. “In your room?” You look around like you’ve done something terrible, and you’re gonna get caught.
“Maybe you aren’t as committed as you claim to be.”
Your eyes narrow at his blatancy. You edge closer to his cracked open door, him now fully inside. You take a deep breath before pushing it further open, then quickly shutting it behind you.
“You know, I probably shouldn’t be in here.” You mutter, staying pressed to the door, as you took in the large looking bed, messed up from his sleep, along with a window, and plain walls. There wasn’t much character and you could tell that that was very intentional.
You then shift your gaze to Miguel who had found himself a seat, relaxing back into it as he clicked his jaw. He finally met your gaze, and in the dim-ish lighting his hair looked messier, his hand most likely having ran through it.
“So…” you drift off, not meaning to come across so awkward.
He tilted his head to the side, silently asking you to come to him, as his legs spread a fraction. You ignored the want to hitch your breath, gulping it down instead.
You stare at him, not moving.
He raised a brow. “You look worried.”
“I’m not worried…just…confused.” You again force a chuckle, a forming coping mechanism around Miguel.
“I think my direction was pretty obvious. I did say it in English.” He again made himself out to be all superior.
You sigh. “I heard you. I’m just confused as to why you asked that.”
“What—did you think I asked you in here so that you’d stay plastered to my door, chaparrita?” He asked sarcastically.
You wet your lips. “Why did you ask me in here?”
“I want a massage.” He says it just so…simply.
You blink, maybe one time too many. “What?”
“A massage, y/l/n.” He says, lowering his head slightly, looking up at you through his lashes.
“Why?” You haven’t moved from the door, so, Miguel swiftly shoots a web out to attach to your shirt, yanking you forward.
You gasp, nearly tripping over your feet, as you get pulled towards him. Miguel stabilises you with a hand to your stomach, making you come to a stop in front of him. “What the hell?” You stare at him, your chest heaving in shock.
You rip the web from your shirt, quickly brushing it off. “You gave Gwen one. I heard you were good. That’s all.” Miguel says.
Your brows furrowed. “Gwen?” Then you remember. “Oh, well that’s because she just got back from a really hard mission…she was sore and I…dunno, I was bored.”
“And you don’t think I am? Sore, I mean. You do realise I take care of the multi—“
“The multiverse, yes. I haven’t forgotten. I’m just a little shocked, is all.”
“You can say no.”
You sigh. “If I want to lose my job.” You mutter, walking around him. Miguel twists his head to follow you slightly, until you stood out of his gaze, directly behind him. You pause, before gingerly placing your hands on his shoulders. Jeez, he was broad.
You closed your eyes, taking a breath. To be honest you thought his requests would be hardcore, asking you to practically run around ramped. But instead here you were alone in his room giving him a massage.
You began to add pressure. Working your fingers into the instant knots you felt.
Miguel’s eyes involuntarily rolled closed, as he accidentally leaned more into your touch. You don’t seem to notice the shift as you continue massaging by his neck and along his shoulder, veering a slightly onto the top of his back.
“I forgot to ask: where did you want the massage? I just assumed the shoulders.”
“Mm?” Miguel hums in question, sounding far away, a small heavy breath leaving his lips after.
“O’hara?” You ask, stopping your hands’ movements.
A small growl of disapproval fell from Miguel’s lips involuntarily. “Just—“ he takes a breath. “What you were doing is fine.”
You place your hands back where they were, making Miguel relax back into your fingers. You were good—Miguel thought to himself. He can’t remember the last time he released so much tension.
You lean down to Miguel’s ear, your tickling breath making him gulp. “Is there a time requirement? Because I had plans tonight.”
Miguel’s brows furrowed. “Plans? What plans?” He didn’t mean to sound so disappointed and borderline desperate, but he’s thankful you barely heard his tone as your attitude didn’t shift.
You worked your fingers closer to his chest, doing your normal routine. Your grandmother was a masseuse, and of course she had to give you some tips. It was fun being able to practice on Gwen, but with Miguel you felt nervous every time you would press down hard on a knot.
But his responses seemed to be good, considering all the quiet groans and heavy breaths.
“I made plans with spider-man—“
“That’s very descriptive.” Miguel comments, his head slightly rolling to the side.
You scoff, your fingers moving to the base of his neck, where no spider suit material could intervene. The pads of your fingers rubbing his bare skin. Miguel noticed the difference a lot quicker than you did, sounds and words of approval he really didn’t want you to hear threatening to spill.
“Dios, ¿por qué tus manos tienen que sentirse tan bien?” (God, why do your hands have to feel so good?) He muttered under his breath, not really meaning for you to catch a word, but of course you pick up ‘bien’.
“Good?” You asked. “Well, then you should put in a good word for me.” You chuckle. “Maybe I should start a small business and massage all the spider-men and woman. I think I’d do well—“
“No.” Miguel says instantly, still sounding slightly breathless. “If you want to prove yourself you can’t get distracted.” Of course that’s the reason he dislikes the idea. Definitely not because he doesn’t want your hands making others feel like this…definitely not.
“Don’t worry, it was just a hypothetical.” You say, going back to his shoulders. “Now, I hope that’s okay. Because I do need to go.” You bring your hands away, and it takes everything in Miguel not to spin around in the chair, grab your hands and ask you to massage somewhere else.
The tense knots in his shoulders were gone, his neck felt light, and he wanted to feel your fingers run along his abs. This was bad. Why was the lighting so dim, why was your scent so strong?
He spun around in his chair, meeting your gaze. “You didn’t fully answer me before. Who are meeting?”
“It was gonna be spider-man, the one with the cartoonish attitude, and now it’s just Hobie. I dunno. something about an important—“
“Hobie?” Miguel interrupts. He displayed indifference, though inside he was burning.
A weird tension began to fill the room. “Yeah, so I’ll just…go.” You say quickly passing him and opening the door, before Miguel had the (bad) mind to stop you.
You rushed out into the hallway which instantly felt lighter, letting you breathe.
You head to the main communion area, paths leading everywhere along the walls to along the roof, making it easy for a spider person to navigate but not someone who can’t stick to walls.
So you stay on the simple path, skimming through talking suited spiders until someone called your name. You spin catching sight of Peter, Mayday in his grasp.
“Hey.” You smile.
“Hey. Sorry, Hobie wanted me to tell you that he can’t catch up for that song session thing, something about getting called in for business.” Peter said, his hands going everywhere as Mayday tried to escape over the edge.
“Also picture that in an over pronounced British accent.” He gave you a thumbs up to which you chuckled.
“No worries, thanks Peter.”
“Mayday!” He suddenly yelled, to which you pointed to the left, displaying her climbing onto a spider-man’s back.
Peter rushes off. And you sigh, thinking you hurried for no reason. Though you are grateful that you could use that as an excuse to get out of Miguel’s room.
As you head to your own, you begin to wonder what this last minute mission could be about and why Hobie had been called in now. Usually the only person who calls people in, especially this last minute would be Miguel.
I guess crime never sleeps—you think to yourself—or something like that.
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ahhh here’s part three!—I hope this one wasn’t too boring or not what you expected x part four is gonna be more SeXuAl, I promise
I actually don’t know how many parts I should do, coz atm it’s feeling like a slow burn, but I don’t want to drag you guys along a long ass fic so I’m not sure.
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Lesson 4: "Do Black People Blush?" Bringing brown complexions to life
Inspired by this ask
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So, do Black people blush?
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We are human beans 🤣! Blood rushes through our veins! This isn't just a nonblack misconception either; I know plenty of Black people who think we don't blush. Stop saying that shit. It's not true! If you thought this at any point, I'm glad you learned, TAKE THIS L IN SILENCE! I am sparing you the indignity of saying this out loud, ever! 🙏🏾
Jokes aside, the actual issue usually lies with the depiction or description. Depending on our skin tone, most of us aren’t going to turn ‘bright pink’ with a blush (if you write that in your y/n or roleplaying fics, that’s an easy way to negate a good amount of your potential Black audience). Think of a cherry coke- how you still see the tint of red in it, but it’s still brown? Like that.
One way to dodge this in writing is to say “flushed”, or “ears/cheeks became hot”. This is describing the physical action of blushing, without having to describe the color of someone’s face. If you’re really nervous about not writing us correctly via blushing… there you go!
Colorism
Okay. So this is something I’ll likely do its own lesson on, because there’s no way I could encapsulate it into one little blurb and I’m not going to try! After asking the internet an admittedly confusing question 😅, one thing I was able to reaffirm is that people have different opinions on what ‘dark’/’darker’ skin tones mean. People recognize that different cultural upbringings and contexts will change what that means! And that’s good- that an important part of the larger conversation!
However, I want everyone to understand that you don’t have to be Black to be dark/’darker’ skinned- you can be Black and very pale! We discussed that in the last lesson! There’s no ‘singular point of brown-ness’ that designates a Black person as ‘Black’- there’s an entire sociological conversation behind that!
My point is, this isn’t a ‘oh Black people OVERALL aren’t depicted blushing properly’- because there are ‘lighter’ skinned Black people that wouldn’t suffer as much from this particular issue.
Blushes and Undertones
Three Links for Tips on Medium to Deep Skintones
Different complexions are going to require different colors, there's not a 'one fits all' option. However! What we want to do for deeper brown complexions is to focus on BOLDER, not lighter! Putting light pink or a white person’s ‘nude’ on our skin will often make us look ashy and undercolored. And we don’t like looking ashy.
"It looks like they're ashy!"
What do we mean when we say this about a piece? Well, worse case scenario, it looks like this:
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This was NOT one of KD’s better days, and he was thoroughly mocked for this. He got more than enough money for lotion! Anyway, when we say that your art looks ‘ashy’, it means that it feels like the skin of your Black character is gray, or dead. Like a corpse. We don’t look like that unless things are dire.
In fan and professional art, you can sometimes find people user a grey undertone for deeper shades of brown on Black people: NO! We are NOT grey! We are not pitch! Many skin shades of brown can be found based in the oranges and the reds. Based on lighting and depth of complexion, you might even have to go into the blues and purple to capture the brown you’re seeking.
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I’m begging us to stop desaturating the browns we use. We can see the difference. It’s usually one of those ‘White Man Painted Brown’ techniques I discussed before; an attempt to ‘make a character Black’ without really committing to it because the brown skin tone ‘doesn’t look good’ to the artist. Brown is beautiful! Commit to brown! Commit to the full design!
Put in the work to create the brown you need!
While this is a traditional art piece (follow Ellie Mandy Art, a Black creator), I want you to notice how she incorporated many colors to create the deep brown for her piece.
-8:05 for the list of paints
-8:05-17:29 for the process
She used black, yes, but it was nowhere near the base color. She incorporated blues and reds and other browns to capture that depth. It wasn’t ‘toss in a bunch of black or grey to get the brown darker’. (SKIP TO THE END TO SEE HOW GOOD THIS PIECE IS, BTW. I felt like I was in the presence of a master watching her do this, fr. We gotta pay artists more.)
I want to use this model as an example to show that while we might get very dark, we're still not 'pitch black'. You can see the flat of the black of their clothes versus their deep complexion. They're not the same!
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Even if your character's complexion is very deep brown into black, you still need to incorporate ‘life’ into them (if that makes sense). And you know what? Even if you want to describe your characters as having ‘black’ skin, that’s fine, but there are still other ways to do it- obsidian, the night sky, velvet. Find a way to romanticize our skin (there’s an entire conversation about how ‘black’ is used in a negative connotation in language and storytelling, and we’re ALSO going to have that conversation later!)
A Real Simple Way (i.e. how I do it)
I tried, but I cannot find my skin tones palette link anymore. I’m sorry! But, it’s been essential to my character design. If you don’t ever buy anything else, I would HIGHLY suggest investing in a skin tones palette for your art program.
Everyone say hello to Philia, my OC! I’m used to drawing her, so I’m going to use her as an example. Now remember, I am still an amateur! But this is how I do it!
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Admittedly, I do the one on the left when I'm feeling lazy, but more often I'll take the time to do the one on the right. Now here’s the thing- I’m not actually blending the red into the brown. This is on a whole different layer. What I’m actually doing is adding to and fading the color until it’s at a color that I feel is natural. There's definitely an easier, smarter way to do this, but that’s what I like to do- I like to see the stages slowly until I’m comfortable.
You have to mess around and practice; see what looks good and what doesn't. Go into the reds, the oranges, the pinks and observe how it looks- I may go through multiple before I settle on one. It’s really just a matter of getting used to drawing Black skin tones and how they look in different lighting. This one's not perfect for sure.
Resources
Here are some really good posts and Youtube videos on how both to paint skin, and to add blush tones. And remember, as per my usual, the best way to learn how the draw and paint Black people is to follow and learn from Black artists! Another good idea might be looking into Black makeup and Black SFX makeup artists. As people that work with skin on a regular basis, they would be a good place to study what colors can and should be used on different skin colors as a whole.
ami0amii
Likelihood Art
Tiara Anderson
Proko
Sinix
Ross Draws
In summary, focus on bolder colors, be willing to test until you get what you need, and practice! All you can do to get better is to practice! And as always: it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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ivoovu · 2 months
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*cough*
Mic Tap
A PSA to all König/Krueger writers:
Hello, I‘m Voov, and I‘m a native German.
And let me just clarify that I do not mean any of this in a offensive matter, and that none of these things are 'annoying' or 'bothersome' to me as a German, which I‘m sure other Germans would agree with me. This isn‘t something that‘s making it impossible for us to read blurbs/fics/etc., however I do know that some writers want to write in foreign languages as accurately and realistically as possible, so this is for those. And for everyone else who‘s just interested, of course
🤍🍪
1 - What I often read is "Exemplary Sentence I can‘t think of something right now but it‘s in English, ja?"
We don’t end our sentences with "[…], ja?". Sometimes, yes, fair, sometimes we do so, but it’s on the rarer side in my opinion. Majority of the time we use this at the end of our sentences:
"[…], nicht?" = "[…], no?" (please don‘t use "[…], nein?" for this one)
or:
"[…], nh?" = honestly this one can be used for a lot of things, it can be used for "[…], no?", "[…], don‘t you think so?" or how the Brits use 'innit', like you‘re trying to prove a point.
(Translation for "[…], don‘t you think so?" = "[…], denkst du nicht auch so?")
I understand that when you type in a "[…], ja?" you‘re translating from the words' English equivalent which is "[…], yeah?", but again, it‘s more common to use "[…], nicht?" instead.
If you use a good mix of "[…], ja?", "[…], nicht?" and "[…], nh?" (and any other word you might want to add to the end of your sentence) instead of sticking to one throughout an entire fic, you‘ll make us Germans a bit happier.
🍙⌛️
2- If you‘re using longer sentences, and the sentences are directed at the Reader, you should clarify beforehand if the Reader is masc or fem. Why? Because a lot of words are gendered in German, so the way they’re conjugated tell us the Gender of the Person:
English: "My perfect Partner."
-> Gender neutral, the reader could be a Man, Woman, in between, on the outside, an Alien race, whatever
If you type this into google translate you get: "Mein perfekter Partner."
-> Masculine. It‘s an instant tell that the reader is a dude.
The female version would be: "Meine perfekte Partnerin."
-> Now we know instantly that this is feminine.
There is no gender neutral, German simply isn’t a language that works that way.
Can you write full sentences without using anything gendered, at all? Yes, absolutely, here‘s an example:
English: "Oh God I love you, I don‘t know what I would do without you. You‘re my everything, I‘ll do anything and everything for you."
German: "Oh Gott ich liebe dich, ich weiß nicht was ich ohne dich machen würde. Du bist mein ein und alles, ich würde alles für dich tun."
This is completely gender neutral because while typing I actively made sure to avoid using anything gendered. But I understand that this is a extremely difficult task to do so for those who don’t speak German, so if you can pull it off, you just earned my highest form of respect, but this isn’t something that us Germans expect of you as a Writer, this is just something I wanted to draw your attention to.
🐰🧳
My point is: If you do any of those two, we Germans aren’t crying about it. We won‘t stop reading the fic, we won‘t bitch about it or send you hate-mail.
We just notice it, correct the sentence in our mind, and some of us will type out the correct sentence as a comment.
I sadly don‘t have any websites that can help with the gendered words, and google translate sucks anyways, so I truly don‘t have any type of direction I could point you writers to, sorry :/
But I have said this before and I‘ll say it again, as many times as I have to: I am absolutely willing to help with the German parts, my dm‘s are always open, no I won’t think you’re annoying or abusing anything by asking me to check the German sentences you might‘ve used in your works, no I‘m not saying any of this out of courtesy, no I‘m not lying, no we don’t have to know each other, no you don’t have to deal with chit chat you can immediately hit me up with 'Hey how is this sentence?', yes I am being serious. In doubt, read this paragraph again and again.
🐚🪵
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nymphomatique · 8 months
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I NEED MORE OF LOSER NERD MIGUEL PLEASEEEEE YOU'VE AWAKENED SOMETHING IN ME
ask and you shall receive they say! here’s some more word vomit 2 hold u over while the full fic is loading 🤭
cw: mean reader LOL she calls miguel a bitch, foot humping, spit, shoe licking🫣, d/s play, miguel is down horrendous, hair pulling. might have missed smt but oh well. also this isn’t proofread oops lolz. but enjoy!! 💋
in #my opinion i think that loser boy miguel is into the degrading stuff. like the more embarrassing it is for him the more it turns him on.
setting the scene for you: miguel is over at your dorm doing you online lab work for you on your laptop while you’re getting ready to go out. naturally you have on the skimpiest number, tits out, ass out, the body is hypnotic, the whole nine.
miguel steals glances of you because while you may be a little bit of a bitch sometimes, god were you beautiful. you catch him staring and sneer at him and it makes him blush and duck his head down once more to do his- your homework.
the finisher? the heels you put on. they’re patent black pumps, red bottoms naturally. and miguel absolutely loses it. he feels his dick start to twitch in his sweats instantly and is already blushing a furious red.
“what’s got you excited, dweeb?” you tease, putting on your earrings. “bet your little nerd dick got hard looking at me, huh.”
he doesn’t say anything and just blushes even more and you laugh because he really is hard! nerd or not, one thing you can’t deny is the meat miguel is packing. you could fit some fun for the two of you before your uber came, if you were fast that is.
“promise it’s not cus i’m a perv.. i swear.. you look nice. s’all.” miguel sputters under your intense gaze.
“yeah? what part of me do you think looks the nicest, hmm?” you say while sauntering over him. he looks down at your shoes silently and you see the tent in his pants twitch. “you got a fucking shoe fetish, freak?” you giggle.
“n-no! it’s not-” he tries but you’re already thinking of how to embarrass him.
“don’t lie to me. you like the mommy dom shit, huh? well, come hump mommies foot.” you say standing only two feet away from where he’s sitting on the bed. he stares up at you with his glasses widening his already blown out eyes. “or don’t. i don’t have all day.”
with that he moves your laptop aside and strips down to his briefs. he makes his way to walk over to you but an idea strikes you. “crawl to me.”
and crawl he does, his tan skin and blooming back musculature making it’s way towards you on all fours.
“good boy. kiss my shoes and thank them before you start.” you say, your downcast gaze holding all the same authority and tension as your tone. he places both of his hands on the floor and begins to lower his lips to your shoe, his full lips making contact with your shoe.
“t-thank you, mistress, f- for letting me use your shoe to get off.” he says shakily, eyes averting your gaze. your mouth pulls into a small smile at his pathetic display. you almost laugh.
“i’m pleased. you may begin.” and miguel wastes no time, his swollen dick making itself seen in his boxer print. once again, you find yourself impressed at the heavy dick miguel packs. you figure it was probably given to him in place of a backbone. he scoots until his length is at the tip of your leather clad toes and he slowly begins to grind against your foot, letting out soft exhales of air.
“hurry up, i don’t have all day.” you spit, getting a little impatient at the time he’s taking. wordless, he speeds up his humping at your foot, his hand coming up to your leg, gripping your calf and the other hand placed palm down next to your foot to steady himself. as he speeds up, his moans come out louder and more frequently, his praises seeming to slip in with them.
you’re greatful for his height, because even on his knees, the top of his head reaches your lower stomach. you grab a fist full of his thick hair and jerk his head back so he can face you, and his expression sends a wave of heat through you. his face is flushed, eyes watering, mouth open spilling out moans of “thank you, mistress, so g-good.. i’m your good boy.. wanna be good..”
“wanna be good, huh? open your mouth for me then,” and without hesitation, he opens his mouth to you, and you spit into his mouth, some hitting the corner of his lip. “close your mouth and swallow it, bitch boy.” ever so eager to follow instructions, he does with a sated expression on his face. your spit seems to have excited him more, considering he’s fully thrusting against your foot now.
“c-can i cum please mistress? it hurts so bad. n-need it please, need you. f-fuuuck,” his pleading makes something in your chest tighten, seeing the power you have over this six foot two hunk of musculature beneath you, jumping at your foot like a depraved animal. he’s looking up at you, your hand still present in his messy hair, and with a cruel smile, you allow him to cum. “cum for your mistress.”
with a few more thrusts, he releases a heavy moan and cums into his briefs, occasionally twitching during his come down. before he gets a chance to speak, you push him off your leg and place a shoe to his balls, pressing ever so slightly, releasing a pert whimper out of miguel. “you made a mess of my louboutins.” you say flatly. “clean them.”
he takes no time to get on his knees and begin to lick your heel clean of his semen. you laugh at the sight, and even more when you see he’s sporting the beginning of another erection.
“fucking pathic,” you chortle. with your uber outside, you push your heel against his forehead and begin to walk away to get your purse as if nothing happened. “finish my homework and get the fuck out, if i see you’re still here when i get back, you’re cleaning the soles of my shoes next.” and with that, you leave your dorm with miguel in his soiled underwear on your floor, and your shoes sporting a new shine.
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'Claimed By Wisdom'
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Clarisse La Rue x DaughterOfAthena!Reader
A/N:Made this while in history class,enjoy.
What happens when Clarisse's unclaimed demigod gf gets claimed - Athena edition
Basically just how I think Clarisse would react when her gf gets claimed by Athena.Relatively a very short fic,part of Clarisse's reaction to her gf getting claimed.I think I'll do more parts-with different gods/goddesses eventually,but not sure.
A normal day at Camp Half-blood,right?Well,here she comes,Clarisse's mysterious and totally captivating demigod girlfriend,you.You've been low-key slaying monsters together,and the chemistry is off the charts.But you know how it goes, no godly parent, no claiming, and Clarisse is getting kinda frustrated about it. She's, like super mad and rants about it,constantly going like "Why won't the gods just claim my girl already?"
Then,one fateful day, it happens.And right during capture the flag too.Camp Half - Blood goes dead silent and Clarisse is, like, tense AF. But then,it happens - you are claimed as a child of Athena,the goddess of wisdom.You,her girlfriend,a whirlwind of untamed spirit - claimed by Athena of all gods.
Clarisse, with her scowl on full display, spots the whole thing and freezes.I swear, you could've heard a pin drop. She narrows her eyes at the symbol, then shoots Sherman a look,being like "Are you seeing this crap?"
But here's the kicker: instead of flipping out, Clarisse just smirks. I mean, seriously? Athena claiming her girl, and she smirks? That's some next - level confidence.
Later,when the two are alone,after the eventful and surprising game of capture the flag,she spills her thoughts like it's ambrosia.Clarisse takes a deep breath, a spark of determination flashing in her eyes. She strides forward, gripping your hand firmly,before speaking. "Look,you know my opinion on Athena,but..." she says,ephasizing the but - sharply - before she continues "...but if she thinks my girl's worthy, maybe there's more to her than I thought."
She goes on this rant about how Athena and Ares are like oil and water, but deep down, she's kind of impressed. "I guess you have some brains to go with that pretty face then." she mutters, still trying to wrap her head around it.
And get this – Clarisse might not be the biggest fan of Athena, but she's not about to let that ruin her moment. "Don't get too cocky now.We'll see if you can keep up with me in the next Capture the Flag." she challenges, grinning like she's ready to conquer Olympus by herself. "I may hate all of 'em Athena nerds - but you,for you I make an exception."
The camp may have a newfound member of cabin 6,but in you're still Clarisse's girlfriend at the end of the day.And no matter which god claims you,Clarisse is ready to help you face whatever challenges lie ahead - because true love - much like war, knows no boundaries.
A/N:This is like-random. Idk what's with this but yeah.
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ao3commentoftheday · 2 years
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I've been writing fics for a long time and I remember a time when even the smallest of fics and stories used to get a lot of engagement from their readers, even back in the days of fanfiction net and ye old forum fics. These days, one's lucky if someone leaves a kudos, let alone a simple comment. Did something about fandoms change? Did it become more consumer like?
Personal opinion? It's not just a fandom thing. It's a "web 3.0" (or whatever we're calling the modern internet) thing.
Today's internet is set up for maximum scrolling and minimal effort. Tiktok is an incredibly popular platform, in large part because there is zero thought that needs to go into watching on it. Youtube requires viewers to read the video title, look at the thumbnail, and make a decision. Tiktok just serves it right up for you.
Other social media sites are attempting to follow suit, easing the path of consumption to keep those eyeballs in place so the ads (and therefore the money) can flow. Everything from news sites with click bait links at the bottom of a story to online stores with "people who viewed this item also looked at this" - the entire internet is set up to keep people moving from one thing to the next without stopping.
AO3 isn't social media. It isn't news. It isn't shopping. There's no algorithm pushing content. There's no "you liked this story? here's another one just like it!" message when you reach the end of the fic.
But people get into certain habits. Just like people who are used to Wattpad use the word "books" instead of "fics" when they start reading on AO3, people who are used to watching a thing and then scrolling on are in the habit of seeing a thing and then moving on.
It will depend on your fandom, of course. And how popular a particular ship or trope is. My last fandom was full of people who'd started out in the LJ or FFN eras of fic, or the early days of AO3 and maybe that's why commenting was so common. Or maybe it was because the early fans in that fandom created a culture where commenting and kudosing was seen as just... what you do.
I don't really think of it as being connected to age at all. I see it more as being connected to comforts and habits. But it's also connected to expectations, community, culture of that particular corner of fandom in particular. These days, I hear a lot of the discussion and recs and squee happens in discord servers instead of on the fics themselves. And that might be because that's where the community is.
I also wonder (with no basis beyond my own gut) whether that period of several years where there was rant after rant here on tumblr about how to comment "correctly" might have made people comment less. I know that if I hadn't been in the habit already, seeing the anger addressed at commenters in some of those posts would have made me decide that I wasn't brave enough to risk it in case I did something wrong.
It's a simple question with no simple answers, but here's half a dozen thoughts I have in my head at any given time. I hope it gives you some insight? Or at least some things to consider.
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gunnerfc · 5 days
Text
Dress | Alessia Russo x Reader (18+) [Thursday]
-> England and Arsenal reader
Summary: Your best friend and housemate looks a little too good in the new dress she bought | slightly inspired by ‘Dress’ - Taylor Swift
Warnings: bottom alessia, top reader, strap use (alessia receiving), oral (alessia receiving), fingering (r receiving), masturbation (R; fingering) in a shared space
WC: 4k
AN: this might be one of if not number 1 of the fics I've written 🧎| this is the dress I was referencing Alessia wearing
Night After Night masterlist
You cheered softly to yourself when you scored your eighth goal against Katie in a game of FIFA. You loved playing against her because you knew you could walk away with an easy win. you laughed to yourself picturing your teammate swearing and complaining to Caitlin, who would have a lot to say to you during training for making her deal with an angry Katie McCabe. 
Just as Katie restarted the game, Alessia came tumbling through the front door, hands full with bags from her day out shopping. You threw a glance her way and chuckled when she lightly tripped over her own feet. 
"You good, Lessi," you teased but kept your eyes locked on the TV screen in front of you.
Alessia's face lit up, blush coating her cheeks as she sat all her bags down to remove her shoes. "Perfectly fine, thank you very much," she huffed as she tossed her shoes to the small pile by the front door. 
You and Alessia had been friends for a long time and when you both were signed to Arsenal, you decided to move in together to make things easy. You loved living with her but being around her 24/7 did nothing to stop your ever-growing feelings for her. But you kept your feelings to yourself, not wanting to complicate your living situation. 
Your game with Katie came to an end and the defender promptly left the lobby, too pissed at the score line to continue playing. You chuckled once more as you sat your controller on the couch, your full attention turned to Alessia who was now trying to pick up all her bags to carry to her room. 
"Did you leave anything for other people to buy," you joked as you stood up to help her, a smile on your face when you noticed her blush.
"Hush," she mumbled as you picked up most of the bags for her. You were too busy keeping your own feelings hidden to notice Alessia doing the same.
The forward had a crush on you the moment you two met at the youth levels for England. You two have been inseparable since then, closer than ever and madly in love with the other, even if you were both hiding it. 
But Alessia was tired of keeping her feelings to herself, she's wanted to tell you how she felt every day since she came to terms with it. She just wasn't sure what the best way to go about it was because she was worried about you potentially not feeling the same. However, after whining about her feelings and gushing about you to Ella, the two of them came up with a plan. 
She was going to make you make the first move if you did feel the same and an upcoming event proved to be her best chance. She had spent all day shopping with Lotte and Emily to find the perfect dress that she thought would drive you crazy. After hours of searching, she finally found the perfect dress that she'd hoped you'd take off her. 
You sat the bags on the end of her bed before turning to head back to the living room. "Wait, can I get your help on which dress to wear for this event, I know you aren't going but I could use the extra opinion," the blonde grinned and you knew you'd never be able to say no to her.
"You're sure you want my opinion," you joked with a raised eyebrow, dressing up and going to all those fancy events were out of your comfort zone. 
"Of course, I trust your opinion more than others," she replied, her grin just a bright. 
You nodded with a smile before telling her you'd wait in the living room for her to show you her options. Alessia cheered cutely before she started pulling various outfits from the shopping bags. 
You sat on the couch, browsing through social media while you waited. You'd just clicked through Katie's Snapchat story where she posted about losing to you with various angry emojis when Alessia's bedroom door opened. You looked up from your phone and your eyes scanned the dress your best friend was wearing. 
It was a black dress but wasn't one you thought complimented her fully. "It's nice but I don't think it's my favorite," you hummed, your eyes straying toward her long legs before meeting her eyes. 
"It's not my favorite either but I thought I'd still show you," she blushed before heading back into her room to change into the next dress. 
You weren't sure how you were given a free pass to basically check out your best friend but you weren't going to say no to the idea. So you waited, letting Alessia take all the time she wanted before she came back out in a blue dress. 
This one was better than the last but still missing something. You tilted your head to the side as your eyes took in the piece of clothing before giving her your thoughts. "I like this one more than the black one, but it still feels like it's missing something," you offered, your eyes meeting hers with a smile on your face. 
Alessia nodded and smiled but didn't say anything as she turned around. Your eyes shamelessly dropped to check her out again before you were staring at her closed bedroom door. Alessia was glad you didn't like any of the ones she was showing you so far, she was only showing them to make it seem like she had options. 
But as she slipped on the red dress she bought earlier, she knew this would be the winner. Alessia took a small breath before opening her door and stepping out, her eyes landing on you to watch your reaction closely.
You looked up from your phone, your jaw dropping slightly but you were quick to school your expression. Your eyes slowly scanned her body, lingering as they eyed parts of her exposed chest and her legs. You swallowed harshly as you sat up straighter, many thoughts forming in your head but none were something you could say to your best friend. 
"Um... I- I like this one the most," you settled on something safe, though your eyes had yet to meet hers again. 
Alessia smirked softly but her face was almost as red as her dress, she'd slowly put her secret plan in motion and now she had to sit back and let you make the first move. "Good, this was my favorite too," she beamed, turning to head back into her room and she felt your eyes burning holes into her backside as you watched her leave.
The event was in four days and the blonde planned to let you sit with all you were feeling until you saw her in the dress again, hoping it would be what would jumpstart your relationship. Though with training in between, the days leading up to the event seemed to drag on for ages.
You groaned as you opened your front door to be met with multiple people who were a part of Alessia’s team helping her get ready. It had slipped your mind that today was the day of the event Alessia would be attending and a small burst of excitement filled your chest as you remembered the dress she decided on. Though in reality, the dress hadn’t left your mind since she first walked out of her bedroom to show you.
“Y/N! Is that you,” Alessia’s voice echoed from her bedroom as she heard the front door open amidst the chaotic scenes around her.
“Who else would it be,” you joked as you peeked your head around her doorframe, eyes landing on the blonde sitting on the edge of her bed in a white robe while her makeup artist covered her eyelashes in mascara.
Alessia rolled her eyes when the woman left her alone to grab a light shade of lipstick. Alessia’s eyes met yours as she let her makeup artist apply the lipstick. You sent her a small smile before returning to your room to shower, having gone for a light gym workout with Kyra. 
By the time you were done and changed, Alessia had changed into her dress and was getting assistance with her heels in the living room. Your breath hitched when you exited your room, your eyes slowly committing the sight of her to memory. “You look beautiful, Less,” you gushed quietly as you bit your lip softly. 
Alessia’s cheeks burned as her head dropped slightly out of shyness. “Thank you, y/n/n,” she muttered before her team informed her it was time to go.
Alessia was rushed out the door before either of you could say anything else and you were left in the quiet of your home, a warm feeling growing between your legs. You knew you had a few hours to yourself before Alessia would be back so you opted to relax in the living room.
You did your best to distract yourself for as long as you could but the need growing between your legs was overpowering. If you were going to get yourself off you were going to be quick about it since Alessia could be back at any moment. You swallowed lightly before propping one of your legs on the coffee table in front of you and spreading the other. You sighed as your hands pulled at your clothing, groping your chest as your hips rolled slightly. 
Your mind was full of Alessia, what it would be like to have your way with her, and how she’d sound begging for you to fuck her. Your breathing picked up as you slid your hands down your body toward the waistband of the sweatpants you were wearing. You pushed your shirt up your torso some, gripping it as your other hand dipped under the elastic of your pants and underwear.
Your body jerked at the feeling of your cold hands on your skin as you ran a finger through your wet folds. You moaned the sensation, Alessia’s name falling from your lips without realizing it. You pushed a finger into your wet cunt, thrusting slowly as your eyes fell shut and your chest heaved.
You added a second finger and sped up your movements, pumping your fingers inside you as your hips grind in time with your fingers. You moved the hand that was holding your shirt up to grope one of your breasts under your shirt, moaning as you pulled at the hardened nipple. You chanted Alessia’s name as your back arched off the couch, your thighs clamping your hand between them.
You came with a loud moan of Alessia’s name and kept your fingers pumping inside you to help calm yourself down. After a moment, the sensation became too much and you pulled your soaked fingers out of your pants. You swallowed harshly as you stared up at the ceiling, your chest moving rapidly.
You stood up after catching your breath to wash your hands in the kitchen and as you headed to your room, the front door opened. Alessia sighed as she closed the door behind her, leaning against it as she shoved her heels off and dropped her small purse. Your eyes widened slightly, hoping she hadn’t been right outside the whole time.
“Remind me to never do that again,” she groaned as she moved to the couch, dropping into the spot you had previously occupied. You blinked a few times before joining her, you couldn’t just say nothing and head to your room just yet.
You offered her a small laugh in response as you sat next to her, leaving enough space between the two of you. The dress she was wearing was driving you crazy and you didn’t know how much longer you could last.
“What did you get up to while I was gone,” the blonde questioned, turning her head to face you.
“Oh, um...not much. Just watched some TV, y’know,” you shrugged, though Alessia knew you well enough to know that you were lying but she didn’t press you.
She mumbled a small ‘nice’ before you were both sitting in silence, both of your thoughts filled with similar things. You bit your lip as your eyes trailed up her legs to the hem of her dress that rested on her thigh. Oh, how you’d love to be between her thighs right now.
Your breathing picked up as you thought about how she would taste and held back a moan as you pictured going down on her. “Y/n, are you all right,” Alessia asked softly as she slid next to you, a hand landing on your thigh.
You nodded but refused to meet her eye and Alessia wasn't having that. She raised her hand to turn you to face her, your eyes filled with arousal as you stared at her lips. “Alessia,” you whispered and the blonde’s thighs flexed hearing you say her full name.
“Yeah,” her voice was just as quiet as yours as she ran her thumb along your cheek. You leaned in slowly, giving her enough time to pull away if she wanted.
When she didn’t move away, you connected your lips in a hesitant kiss, waiting for her to move first. You both sighed heavily into the kiss as your lips moved against each other, your hand falling to grip her thigh. Alessia moaned softly into the kiss at the feeling of your hand on her and you took the opportunity to move your tongue into her mouth.
You slide your hand further up her thigh, pushing the bottom of her dress to her hips before your hand hits the fabric of her panties. Alessia pulled out of the kiss to moan louder, her forehead resting against yours as her eyes fell shut.
“I wanna taste you, Lessi,” you mumbled, your voice laced with arousal as you rubbed your fingers over her covered cunt. You could feel how wet she was through the piece of clothing and it was driving you crazy. 
“Please,” she croaked out and it was all you needed to drop to your knees in front of her. You bunched her dress around her hips as you placed light kisses along the inside of her thighs, small whines falling from her lips as she waited for you.
You pulled her panties down her legs, tossing them somewhere behind you as her legs spread for you. You gulped softly as you stared at her dripping cunt before making yourself comfortable between her thighs. 
You hooked your arms around her thighs, moving her legs to rest on your shoulders as you leaned in, placing a tentative kiss on her clit. Alessia threw her head back against the couch, one of her hands tangling in your hair as your kisses became more confident. Your kisses turned to suck as you took the sensitive bud into your mouth, sucking harshly as you moaned against her.
Alessia’s hips bucked up as you moved your tongue to run through her wet folds, a loud moan of your name falling from her lips. Her thighs clamped around your head, keeping you as close as possible to her as you tasted her. Your eyes flutter shut as you work your move against her, pulling whines from the blonde above you. 
“I’m gonna cum,” she cried, her breathing heavy as her hips jerked against your face. You sped up your tongue, fucking her with the muscle as you held her body tightly. 
Alessia came on your face with a loud groan, tears pricking her eyes in pleasure as you kept moving. Her legs went limp against your shoulders and she tugged slightly on your hair to get your attention. You pulled away from her, earning a whine when the cold air hit her cunt. 
You sat on your knees as you took her in, your eyes falling to her partially exposed chest. You weren’t close to being satisfied and you stood on wobbly legs, offering her a hand. Alessia took your hand, letting you help her up and guide her to your bedroom. Her mind racing from this new experience.
You closed your bedroom door softly behind you and moved the two of you to the edge of your bed. You took your time stripping Alessia’s dress off her, letting it pool by her ankles before she stepped out of it. Your hands rested softly on her waist as your eyes scanned her completely bare body. 
Alessia’s breath hitched when you kissed her collarbone before trailing kisses to her breasts. She pushed her chest forward as your lips wrapped around one of her nipples, sucking on the bud as one of your hands slipped down to grab her ass. You pulled away from her completely after a moment, a string of spit connecting your lips to her nipple as you did so.
You took a step back to strip, tossing your clothes to the floor to be picked up later. Alessia shamelessly let her eyes ogle your body. You turned to move toward your nightstand, pulling a girthy strap on from the drawer before turning to face the blonde. Alessia’s eyes dropped to the toy in your hand and felt her cunt grow even wetter. 
“We can stop if you want,” you offered, not wanting to overstep any boundary. 
Alessia shook her quickly, “I don't want to stop,” she croaked out. You nodded with a small smirk as you harnessed the toy around your waist. Alessia felt lightheaded at the sight of you with the strap on between your legs.
You motioned to the bed with your head, letting her get into whatever position she wanted to be fucked in. You bit back a small groan when she crawled onto your bed and stayed on her hands and knees. You moved around the bed to return to the edge before kneeling on the mattress behind her. You ran your hands over her ass, smacking her skin softly as you kneaded the skin.
Alessia whined at the feeling, her head dropping as she stared at the cover of your bed. You slid your hands up to caress her hips, rubbing your thumbs over her back. Alessia waited with bated breath as you moved one hand to the toy between your legs, lifting the tip to her cunt. You pushed the strap into her, your hand returning to her hip as you bottomed out. Alessia gasped at the full feeling, her hips pushing back against you once she was comfortable. 
Alessia’s skin felt hot against yours and you took a small intake of air before pulling out some. You snapped your hips against her, your skin slapping against hers as you thrust. Alessia’s arms buckled slightly at your thrusts but her hips pushed back against you with each one. You sped up your movements when loud whines fell from your best friend’s lips, your name never sounding better. 
“Fuck,” you huffed as your thrusts became rougher, your head falling back as you closed your eyes. Your eyes were back on Alessia when she moved to rest on her forearms, her hands gripping your cover as continuous whines filled your room. The loud sound of your skin hitting hers and the sound of you fucking her mixed with her moans made your head spin.
“Fuck, Less. You’re taking me so well,” you grunted as squeezed her hips, most likely leaving light bruises in your wake.
Alessia moaned at the praises, her hips faltering as she was close to another orgasm. You kept your pace steady, your hips snapping against her body roughly. “I’m so close! Please-” Her words were taken from her when you hit that particular spot within her, a loud whine taking their place.
You focused on your movements, determined to have her experience one of her best orgasms ever. “Cum for me, Alessia,” you grunted as you railed into her.
With a loud whine, Alessia fell into the mattress she came on your strap. You kept your hips going as you helped her through her orgasm, broken cries from the blonde edged you on to keep going. You fucked into her with the same momentum as before, a third orgasm hitting her as she whimpered.
You pulled out of her slowly, the blonde breathing heavily as you tossed the toy to the floor. You ran your hands up the back of her thighs, up her ass, and over her back in a comforting manner, the blonde’s skin sweaty under your touch.
“You good, Less,” you mumbled into her ear as you leaned over her, placing small kisses along her back. You moved slightly when she rolled over, her fucked out expression became your favorite sight in that moment. 
Alessia licked her lips as she nodded, her brain too foggy to form a sentence. You smirked as you lay on your side next to her, one of your hands tracing random shapes along her body. Alessia turned her head to face you, her eyes locking with yours as she leaned up to kiss you. She could faintly taste herself on your lips from earlier as she pushed you onto your back.
You stared at the blonde in shock, you hadn’t expected her to have enough energy to reciprocate, not that you minded. Alessia straddled your thigh and you moaned quietly as you felt her wetness on your skin. She traced a finger down your body and leaned down to kiss you. You moaned into the kiss when she ran her finger through your wet folds, your hips bucking up to meet her finger.
She dipped her finger inside you slowly before pulling it out quickly. You gasped lightly, her finger felt ten times better than yours had felt earlier. Your eyes screwed shut when she pushed two fingers deep inside you, pumping them slowly to edge you closer to your second orgasm that night. You held the cover beneath you tightly as your back arched off the mattress, hips rolling in time with her thrusts. 
“L-less,” you stuttered, your head thrown back against your pillows as she fucked you closer to the edge. “P-please,” you begged.
Alessia sped up her fingers as her other hand to rub your sensitive clit. Your body jerked at the feeling, a loud moan falling from your lips as you let go, cumming all over her fingers. Alessia slowed her fingers some before pulling them out of you completely. 
Your eyes fell open at the loss of contact and they fell on Alessia as she brought her fingers to her mouth, sucking them into her mouth to taste you. She moaned at the taste, her eyes closing as she licked her fingers clean. You gulped at the sight, desire building once more.
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” you grunted as you sat up, your arms wrapping around her waist to pull her flush against you. You both moaned slightly when your sensitive nipples bumped each other.
Alessia wrapped her arms around your neck, her fingers playing with the baby hairs on the back of your neck. You stared up at her, a look of love clouding your eyes as you smiled at her. Alessia giggled quietly as she gave you a quick kiss but you pulled her into a deeper kiss before she got too far.
“I'm in love with you, Alessia,” you whispered against her lips, a sense of nervousness filled your body despite everything that just happened.
“I’m in love with you too, y/n,” she blushed, a smile on her face as she spoke. You beamed up at her before kissing her once more, though this kiss was softer than the last. 
Alessia pulled back with a small yawn, her tiring week mixed with the sex had exhausted her. You cooed with a small smile when you saw her bow her head bashfully. You moved the two of you under the covers, placing a small kiss to her hairline as she curled into you.
“Goodnight, Less,” you whispered against her head as you pulled her close to you. The blonde mumbled a quiet ‘goodnight’ before sleep took over.
You were glad your feelings were out in the open now and the two of you could talk about it more in the morning. But for now, you were content to cuddle Alessia as you both slept, a smile on your face as fell asleep.
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sl4sh3rsub · 4 months
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billy lenz hcs (nsfw: mdni)
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billy lenz x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)
warning: this is set in the mid-to-late 70s, perversion, old school + kinda one-sided phone sex, billy is loud as fuck + a creep + delusional, scent/musk kink, cumming on clothing, copious mentions of cum + precum, using cum as lube, dry humping, extremely dubious consent (somnophilia), masturbation (+ billy edging), oral sex (both giving + receiving, facefucking reeiiving), reader is referred to as 'piggy', p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), ass eating/nondescript tongue fucking (giving + receiving), handjob mention, implied violence (not towards reader), overstimulation (giving + receiving), diy home reno gloryhole, old school cum tribute, foot humping/light cbt??, light bondage (pun), sex toys (for billy), hickeys + biting (giving + receiving)
a/n: kinda edited. happy holidays folks!! this might be ooc but i swear i tried. was gonna add more feet stuff bc it's billy, but decided against it. if you're into that kinda thing, use your imagination - i only mentioned it once and i think that's enough tbh. this one also doesn't have as much literal sexual intercourse as my other hcs (just a heads up) it's been a hot minute since i've watched the film, so the characteristics might be off (i based this on my own interpretation of him and i haven't really read any billy fics recently.. oops) it's a little rushed but i really did try! hope you like it
order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much
_ _ _ _ _
general hcs
billy got bored of all the sorority piggies and moved, hiding in a mixed residential college dorm building - a creaky colonial-style residence with a spacious attic. the first time he sees you, you're getting dressed to join the other boarders for dinner. billy heard you humming to a radio and peered down between the cracks in the stained floorboard. he's been unhealthily obsessed with you since then <3
billy is an absolute pervert and will sexualize anything and everything you do. from scratching your neck to wandering around your room in your underwear, he's already ogling and muttering how much of a fuckin tease you are
he becomes bolder over time and eventually sneaks into your room at night. after you catch him lurking in the darkness of your room and he doesn't get immediately thrown out, he grows more and more trusting of you. billy becomes accepting of your begrudging attraction to him and he definitely takes full advantage of it :< you reluctantly give him permission to venture into your room if he needs company or an outlet for his pent-up sexual energy - it must be pretty cold and lonely in the attic, what's the harm in cuddling with the lanky man? he's already your dirty secret and at this point, he'd kill for you
his favourite pastime is calling your room's rotary phone during the day and either making mundane conversation with you or having you listen to his rambling as he strokes his cock, not even ten feet away from you. if you start bashfully touching yourself to his babbling or accidentally let slip a moan, tilt your head towards the ceiling so he can see your blissed-out expressions (he definitely cums on the spot)
if you want to get in his good books, put some old cabaret music on your cassette player and give billy a show - whether it's a sensual strip tease or you touching yourself on your bed, billy will be over the moon. as the music ends and the room is quiet - apart from your heavy breathing and thumping heartbeat - little gasps and applause drifts down from your ceiling, making you blush and whisper your thanks
there is not a moment when this man is quiet. in sexual situations, of course he's going to breath loudly, growl and spout obscenities, but even in regular conversation he rambles and expresses his opinions in long, convoluted trains of thought
billy loves it when you're just with him - in reality, you're alone in your room with a creep peering down at you from above, but it's better to let him be delusional. no harm has come of it... yet
don't worry your silly little head about the opaque liquid dripping from ceiling, directly above the bed :< it's either his spit, tears or precum drooling down between the wooden paneling from him constantly edging, the sight of you just existing is enough to turn him on. if it somehow lands on you, billy will cum instantly at the sight of you with his love painting your skin. you look like his perfect piggy, he can't help it :(
he has a habit of dragging his leaking tip over your face while you sleep, smearing his musky precum over your skin for you to smell when you wake. his favourite hobby is staining your skin in his stinky, salty scent - from cumming in your underwear as a way of marking you to wiping off his pre on your lips (as to not stain his boxers), he will make any excuse to clean off his cock on you. if you've been dismissive of him or too caught up in studying, he'll threaten to wake you up by dragging his musty balls over your face. just saying.
whenever he sneaks down to spend time with you skin-to-skin, billy practically goes feral. he's already jittery and constantly rock hard, so expect him to hump you like the degenerate mutt he is. every time you hug or lie next to him, he'll wrap his arms around you and start grinding against you, burying his face in your shoulder. he might not even want to initiate sex!! billy just wants to show his affection and attraction to you :(
billy isn't lying on the phone calls about what he wants to do to you. his inexperience is second to his enthusiasm and need to tongue-fuck you at every given opportunity. your spit-shined, sloppy hole is his favourite view on any day of the week and you bet he's going to make the most of it. make sure to place down a towel under his hips while he goes to town, he tends to leak precum freely and stain your bedsheets whenever you two so much as hug :>
he is a massive drooler, so watch out for the spit puddles on your pillow and mattress after he graces you with a visit. billy is also massive fan of visiting you in the dark - be it night or whenever you have your curtains closed - as he is pretty embarrassed about his constant ahegao face. it's especially prevalent when you touch him just right or suckle on his skin in that perfect spot
billy is constantly babbling about how much you can take his juicy, meaty cock in your tight piggy hole and frantically escalates whenever you pick up the phone. he always describes how he's gonna taste your arousal and fuck you until your legs are shaking, his fingers itching to touch every inch of you. billy's third-person descriptions throw you off a little, but he gets the point across pretty well. his insane squeals and huffs get louder as the lewd, wet rhythm picks up with every passing minute
if someone picks on you, he'll find their phone number and target them with streams of profanities and harassment until they leave you alone and back off. if you come home crying from a bad experience around strangers or tell him of someone who attempted to hurt you, he'll take it upon himself to dispose of them. how else would he rid himself his violent urges? he has to protect you and keep you for himself somehow
expect weird, out of place stains on all of your clothing. from small splatters to large and obvious splotches, every clothing item has remnants of his visits to your dorm room
billy has long-winded phone calls with you, about everything from your life to your interests and favourite things. there's shuffling above you every once in a while, but don't worry about it. it's not possums or raccoons in the insulation, just billy trying to get comfortable - his back aches from craning his neck to see you in, leering from in between the wooden gaps
he will leave you little scribbled notes on crumpled, used envelopes - his barely legible chicken scratch goes on about how pretty you look when he's looking down at you and how fun you are to play with
billy is incredibly touch starved - he'll regift items he finds laying around in exchange for kisses or even a rushed handjob (if he asks nicely enough). the nicer and less dusty the present, the better the reward
his idea of heaven is the feeling of you gagging and choking on his dick, especially the dazed look in your eyes while he fucks your face. the way you catch your breath and let him just stand above you, staring at the mess of cum he made on your face, has his heart pounding in his chest. billy's gaze is one of pure adoration, especially when you have his throbbing cock resting safely in your mouth
prepare to be overstimulated!! he's a fuck machine and will go until he's shooting blanks, or you shove him off to take a break. he is so conditioned from his constant masturbating that he does not get soft after shooting his load - he keeps hissing through the sensitivity as he drills into you like a jackrabbit, hitting your deepest points and sending shivers down your spine. he uses his thick, goopy cum as lube half of the time - he often cums the second he pushes into you, feeling your warmth around him. good thing he has animalistic stamina and strong thighs :>
billy is extremely noisy but will gladly attempt to muffle himself if it means he won't get found out, if it means he gets to stay in the residence - with you - for longer. he's a whiny and breathy moaner though, so never expect complete silence
his pale skin practically glows under the moonlight whenever he pays you a night-time visit. his cock bobs whenever you ghost your fingers over his side and through his hair, precum pooling and dripping down his long length as he gently moves his foreskin back to reveal his flushed - borderline purplish red - cock head. the few freckles scattering his tummy and the wild, wispy brown bush surrounding his base makes him feel pretty insecure about his body - it's not at all like the buff, tan men in the risqué mags or porno tapes. reassure him that he's mouthwateringly attractive, swollen cock and all. the one downside of giving billy head is that his cum tastes very acidic and bitter - invite him to share a healthy lunch of salad and fruit with a healthy jug of water every once in a while, it'll benefit you both
most of the encounters between you two will happen at night or with him partially obscured, but eventually he'll gain enough confidence to emerge from his den and visit during the daytime
he makes a glory hole at the top of the stairs that lead to the attic - he knocks out a section of paneling that's hidden next to a cabinet, perfect for you to hide behind while kneeling :< he's not that considerate though, he still forces you to be vigilant while he makes you choke on his length without a care - you can't give him away, not in a compromising position like this!!
he sneaks into your bathroom and showers with your hair product and soap whenever he feels lonely. he's too musty to change his clothing and wear some of yours, but he's not above nicking your clothes detergent whenever your scent starts fading away.
billy is also in the habit of hiding in the shower behind the partially see-through curtain, lurking - his presence makes you hum in greeting as you wash your hands in the sink. he might stick his hard cock out from behind the curtain and giggle as it bobs just in your line of sight. if you decide to glance up at the tall silhouette while you take him down your throat, you'll see his hands scrunching the material into a wrinkled mess. at least you have billy's musty cardigan to kneel on, bruised knees are never fun
if you fall asleep while studying on your desk, he'll scuttle down and shift you ontop of the bed - he can't have his object of affection feeling under the weather. strained muscles and unnecessary soreness are gonna get in the way of your fun time with billy!
you might think you're going insane from time to time... don't worry though. the giggles, shuffling and faint moans echoing in your head are real, he's living directly above you after all. nothing to worry about :<
he is a little bit of a hoarder and definitely a thief - from strands of your hair on the floor to dirty tissues that landed in the bin after a masturbation session, it all ends up in billy's little gross pile of stuff in the corner of his lair
billy is creepy and definitely sneaks into your room at night to jerk off furiously in the corner - he loves looming in the shadows as his tip leaks like a broken faucet, groaning at the peaceful sight of you sleeping without a care. if he's feeling adventurous, he'll use your limp hand to hold his balls as he drips all over your mattress and strokes his length
whenever he's bored of the stashed porn mags in the attic, billy watches you below as you study and his hand wanders south. he uses your speed of writing as the metronome of his strokes and tries his best to not fuck his hand at the thought of giving you some 'under the desk support'
while you're out in classes, he beelines towards your bed and takes a nap in your bed, cuddling with one of your plushies. you may have caught him mid-snooze more than once, but you'd best not bring up how cute the stinky man looks or else he'll start sulking
billy guilt trips you into paying more attention to him - he needs someone to talk to plus he can fuck you too, what else could you possibly want? you see how needy he is firsthand when you return after class, walking in on him pinching his nipples as he bucks his hips and humps into your pillow. his desperate whines of your name tug at your heartstrings as you coo at his pathetic display. he really does get lonely though - billy likes imagining how it would feel to be hugged by you whenever he's feeling chilly upstairs
he will sit on your face as he gets off on demeaning you, sensually running his fingers over his cockhead as he rests his tight balls on the bridge of your nose. he has a knack for degrading you but isn't able to resist praising you, babbling about how good you're being for him and how hard he is because of you
he scatters polaroid cum tributes around your room whenever he visits without you noticing. all of the photos he took of you are eerie and at angles that could only be explained by him tailing you throughout your day-to-daylife. don't feel paranoid though, he's only wanting to ensure your safety! unfortunately, the evidence of his lurking was too tempting for him... it's now permanently stained with evidence of his lust. hope you like the present
billy asks you to buy him a vibrator for christmas! why- what do you mean no? but he gets lonely, he'll need something to keep him company. would you change your mind if he says you can use it on him too? :>
he cleans up your room to the best of his ability! he's not all altruistic though... billy steals your chewed pencils, sniffs your dirty underwear and swaps out your sweaty pillowcases to cuddle with and huff your scent from later
billy lenz is actually gross. he will want to bend over you and bury his nose into your chest, armpits and crotch after a long day. your sweat is such a turn-on for him, his cock swelling the moment you swing open your dorm door with a tired groan
if he wants to be more submissive to you, he'll beg you to help him cum by lightly grinding your foot into his throbbing cock. billy's bulge may strain against his sweatpants and tears may roll down his face, but the damp patch betrays his filthy arousal as it grows progressively bigger. the moment you comment on his enjoyment, he flushes deep red and his masochistic grin betrays how drunk he is on the pressure of your foot
tie him to a chair with old christmas lights he found in the attic, the glass bulb clinking together as he shivers at your teasing - slowly suck his cock and trail up to his tip with your tongue, edging him to the point of tears. he drools as you squeeze his cock slightly in his hand and scold him for being such a pervert
_ _ _ _ _
amab hcs
he mutters how soft your skin is and how handsome you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but billy never fails to groan how amazing you feel as you clench around him
if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'juicy piggy cock' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling
if you roll onto your back throughout a night when billy pays you a visit, he'll palm and kiss at your bulge as you sleep. he hisses in delight whenever you hump into his warm mouth, muffled noises becoming breathier with each passing moment. his guilty pleasure is dragging his tongue along your length and hearing your bleary whimpers
find two dildos that have a similar size and shape as you! he is pretty inexperienced in same-sex relationships, so why not help him practice? it'll be much easier for him to train his hole and gag reflex if he can practice on your size, even when you're away from your dorm :>
billy gets extremely jealous whenever you speak to anyone ever :( if he catches you planning a date or even talking to someone else, he'll whine a lot more than normal and sniffle down the line the next time you pick up the receiver. he might be able to pass it off as his normal attitude and shenanigans, but you know him better than he gives you credit for. invite him down to your room, cuddle him for a bit and fuck him into the mattress to show how much you care - whisper about how good he's being for you and mark up his neck with love bites
tangle your fingers in his hair as you kiss down his jaw, guiding him to sit in your lap as you shift in your seat and buck up into him. watch as his eyes roll and his tongue lolls as you hit his prostate over and over, fucking him dumb so easily
_ _ _ _ _
afab hcs
he mutters how soft your skin is and how pretty you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you take him down to the balls
if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'pretty piggy cunt' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling
billy cums all over your pussy as you sleep, leaving you to blearily wake up in confusion as it cools on your skin. it's already a messy cleanup, so be thankful he didn't choose to mark his territory your whole body
he wants you to sit on his face!! billy will eat you out like no tomorrow, throbbing and leaking uncontrollably into your sheets. he slurps and sucks on your clit until you see stars - despite his inexperience, his vigor and obvious enjoyment makes up for his sloppy movements
he squishes and squeezes at your tits as he sits crisscross on your mattress, staring in fascination. his excitement visibly increases at every mewl and whine from your mouth, jolting at your louder noises and chuckling at your breathless gasps. the softness of your breasts always catches him off-guard, his constant need to cum all over your chest becoming more and more obvious
the lewd sounds of him stroking his cock and you fingering your cunt are all the more prevalent whenever you're lying down together and he's spooning you. he's panting into your hair, wrapping his free arm around your waist from behind as you circle you clit firmly. the obscene, sloppy sounds echoing throughout your room end up on replay in both your heads for the next day
_ _ _ _ _
ftm hcs
he mutters how soft your skin is and how handsome you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you take him to the hilt
if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'wet piggy hole' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling
billy cums all over your boypussy as you sleep, leaving you to blearily wake up in confusion as it cools on your skin. it's already a messy cleanup, so be thankful he didn't choose to mark your skin up as well. he's a notorious biter and will not shy away from leaving bruises to ward off competition
he loves cornering you against your wall in the middle of the night - everything from the feeling of your arousal coating onto his fingers as he jerks you off, to the sharpness of your teeth biting into his shoulders as you muffle yourself. his favourite part is feeling your muscles slowly relaxing as you come down from your high
he suckles on your tcock as you leak down and coat his chin in your cum. billy will be a menace and run his cockhead against your hole and use your precum to jack off, coating your heated skin in his thick spend
he loves hearing how ruined the both of you become whenever you fuck yourself on his cock - he has the perfect vantage point to watch you bounce on his lap as he digs his fingers into your waist, sloppy sounds echoing around the room as his balls slap against your ass. billy's panting whimpers sound so pretty as he grits his teeth whenever you clench on his length
_ _ _ _ _
mtf hcs
he mutters how soft your skin is and how pretty you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you clench around him. he has a habit of burying his nose in your hair whenever he bottoms out, needing to be drowned in your scent and the feeling of your pussy
if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'pretty piggy hole' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling
if you roll onto your back throughout the night, he mouths at your bulge as you sleep. he hisses in delight whenever you hump into his warm mouth, muffled noises becoming breathier with each throb against his lips
he will swipe a lipstick or two for you - the sight of you with it smeared all over your face after a rough facefucking makes him giggle with glee, the pigment staining the base of his cock. he thinks you're all the more beautiful when he gets to ruin your makeup after you're all done up for him
billy latches onto your tits whenever you're shirtless - he loves leaving teeth marks and bruises around your nipples, practically marking his territory. he especially loves when the purple love-bites peek out over the cup of your bra :>
he loves bending you over your bed whenever he fucks you, your face buried in your pillow to muffle you loud noises as your girlcock dribbles all over your sheets. it's not like billy isn't making a mess either - his drool flying everywhere as he fucks you in a frenzy, balls slapping against the back of your pretty thighs. no matter how much or how deep he cums in you, it always dribbles back out of you and stains your bedding with the drying droplets
_ _ _ _ _
if modern day billy lenz had a ph account and made videos of him masturbating in the dark (while making his weird noises and shit), he would have a solid fanbase of weirdos who find it creepy and hot. i'm saying this as someone who would watch him religiously btw :>
thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.
stay safe.
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chrattenthusiast · 5 months
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hii can u do a smut femxmatt fic where they meet at a party and they like are kinda drunk and matt’s really flirty and touchy and they just end up fucking!! ty!!!
AN: yes but with a slight twist hope you aren't mad at me ;/ (This was inspired by a fanfic i read a while back, but i added a lil sprinkle) this is gonna be the last angsty smut I write for a while!!! the world is healing yay.
warnings: slightly rougher smut, alcohol, slightly toxic matt, not proofread, longish
AFTERPARTY - Matt sturniolo
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Entering the house, you found it filled with a thick haze of smoke, and intoxicated individuals occupied every corner. Taking it all in, you absorbed the chaotic atmosphere of the house party.
You spot the drinks lined up on the kitchen counter smiling instantly, your face lit up with anticipation as you instinctively reached for two shot glasses, intending to share the experience with your friend. Carefully, you poured the potent liquid into the glasses, aware of the complex emotions it always evoked within you - a simultaneous blend of affection and unease.
Taking a swig of the shot, a wince breaks across your face as you taste the acrid burn. Your friend, mirrors your grimace. Yet, undeterred by the bitter flavor, they reach for the bottle, repeating the action twice.
The room erupts with loud cheers from the other end of the house, where a spirited game of beer pong is in full swing. You see the excitement in your friend's eyes, knowing just how competitive she is. Urging her to join in, it takes a little convincing, but you assure her that you'll be perfectly fine on your own.
You take a moment to observe your surroundings in the house after pouring yourself a generous serving of alcohol. You make a deliberate choice not to mix it with anything, recognizing that doing so might result in an unsightly aftermath the next day.
Your phone buzzes, and with a sense of urgency, you swiftly reach for it. As your eyes scan the text message and the identity of the sender, your eyebrows knit together in a perplexed expression.
Matthew: you look so good, but you should slow down.
The text message verified the sensation of being watched. Instantly, your eyes scanned the surroundings, desperately seeking the presence that had captured your attention. Instantly locking eyes with him, you found him in the midst of individuals with whom you had limited conversations with. His gaze lowered as he held a drink cradled in his hand. You observed him while his eyes traced every contour of your body. Gradually, he raised the cup to his lips, taking a sip, his gaze remained fixed on your face.
The agreement between both of you was to keep things uncomplicated, though you disliked deceiving the ones you cared about, but deep down, you cherished the moments alone with him, away from others imposing their opinions on your 'relationship.'
He thought differently however, he wasn't planning on telling anyone about the two of you- although he was close to telling his two brothers about it- he liked the arrangement between the two of you, sneaking around, but mostly he wanted to 'protect your peace', away from his world of a sane but crazy fan base- he loved how the both of you pretend to not know of each other in public. but in private you were his, the same girl that always found yourself tangled under him
The sudden awareness loomed, casting a shadow over the quickly consumed alcohol's impact, and a wave of jealousy welled up inside. It bothered you that he seemed calm and indifferent, apparently unaffected by your need to be near him all the time. As usual, you pushed these emotions down, steering clear of further complicating the already complex situation. Yet, despite your efforts, the persistent realization lingered that this arrangement might not end well. In hindsight, you recognized that you should have probably considered the options before agreeing to such an arrangement.
Taking a sharp breath, you tucked your phone back into the waistband of your skirt, purposefully ignoring his text. Opting for a rapid consumption of a mix of assorted alcoholic drinks, you winced at the disagreeable taste. Turning your focus to the right, you caught sight of a guy in your peripheral vision. It took a moment to recognize his face.
"Hi," he greeted the instant he realized your gaze had landed on him.
"Hey," you replied, aiming to keep the conversation brief while maintaining a sense of respect.
And, of course, Matt observed from a distance. Despite once being enthusiastically engaged in the conversation,He now leaned back, adopting a manspreading position nodding as though still interested in the ongoing discussion. However, there was a noticeable tightening of his grip on his phone.
You nodded your head, forcing a smile at the guy, giving the appearance of genuine interest in his conversation. However, deep down, all you craved for was to escape the confines of the house, retreat to your bed, and wallow in the misery of your self-destruction. The weight of how you'd once again managed to sabotage everything for yourself loomed heavily on your mind.
Your attention shifted to your friend, and you couldn't help but notice the wide smile on her face. It seemed she was genuinely pleased to see you stepping outside your comfort zone and engaging in a conversation with the guy, her grin widening when she observed his arm touching your waist. Matt, too, noticed her reaction. He had heard about her in the extensive conversations you shared with him, during those moments when he played with your hair, absorbing every word you uttered. You spoke of her with deep love and adoration, and silently, he harbored a resentment that you couldn't speak of him in the same way to her. He cherished the importance of loved ones, and selfishly, he hated that he wasn't on your list.
What he hated even more was how you didn't pull away from the guy's touch, especially when he left lingering squeezes, emphasizing his words—just like he would. His gaze remained fixed on both of you, observing as the guy incessantly carried on with his conversation. Your irritation grew, and the breaking point came when he flagrantly crossed the line by violating your personal space- and is left dumbfounded when you cut him mid way muttering a poor excuse- speed walking away from him.
You step into what seems to be a hallway, choosing the first door and entering a dimly lit, spacious bathroom. Your hands find their way to the edges of the sink, and you lean down, allowing the exhaustion of the events to wash over you. The bathroom door opens and shuts, prompting your eyes to snap toward the mirror. Instantly, you make eye contact with Matt.
Leaning against the bathroom door with lowered eyes, Matt takes in your appearance. His gaze is fixated on your skirt, noticing how it's slightly hunched up due to you leaning over the sink.
"you get my text earlier?" he asks, returning his gaze to your face.
"Yeah, I got it. I was pretty occupied, though," you reply, turning your body to face him
"yeah? I couldn't tell" he replies laced with sarcasm.
You nod in response, and he begins to walk toward you. Instinctively, you move backward, feeling your lower back hit the counter. His arms trap you on both sides, eliminating any distance between you.
"you avoiding me now? Is that what's happening?"He says, leaning down to meet you at eye level.
The close proximity makes it a bit challenging for you to breathe properly. So, you turn your head to the side, suddenly finding the patterns on the wall much more interesting, despising how calm and collected he appeared- how much control he has over your mind, despite numerous reassurances from him. You can't help but wonder if the only time you get to be intimate is away from others because you question whether he's more concerned about being seen with you than genuinely "protecting your peace."
"Stop that," he says, aware that your mind is racing at full speed.
Your eyes finally meet his gaze, and it's unclear how long the intense stare has lasted. Matt is the first to break eye contact, stepping back. His hands move to the bathroom lock, twisting the metal and securing it.
"Classic," you mutter, still grappling with your self-sabotaging thoughts.
"what was that?" he says
"we're not doing anything in here " you reply ignoring his question
"Who said we were going to? We're just having a conversation"
"you look pretty" he continues due to your silence
"yeah? I've heard" Confidently fueled by the liquor, You aimed to provoke him, fully aware that he had seen you talking to the guy. What added to the satisfaction was knowing he wasn't pleased that you entertained the conversation, you turn your body to face the mirror again. Purposefully grinding your ass against his groin, already feeling the hardness.
"You having a change of heart, I thought we couldn't do anything?" he says,pressing you further against the counter. The cold marble makes you shiver.
You tilt your head to the side as you feel his hands brush up against the back of your thighs, making their way to the skimpy material of your underwear, smiling once he felt how soaked you were
lifting the bottom of your skirt to rest on your lower back he delivers a harsh slap to your ass, making you smile at how quick he is to give you what you want.
His hands grab your hair, bunching it up and pushing it to the side. Sneaking his hands around your torso, he plants a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
" you want this? you gotta be quiet though might be hard for you huh " he snarked
"fuck you" you reply annoyed with his snarky comment
"yeah i'm sure you'd like that, now wouldn't you" he pulls you flush against his chest,placing a gentle kiss to your temple, his hand palming your wetness, making you lean further onto his chest, your head settling in the crook of his neck
"Always so needy for me aren't you sweetheart" he whispers causing you to meet his gaze through the mirror. "I got what you want right here" he adds pressing himself harder against you
he pushes your underwear to the side, circling your swollen clit causing you to grip the edges of the sink harder, his hands make his way to the small of your back wanting you to arch further into him.
His fingers part from your entrance, causing a whine to escape your lips at the lack of his touch, You hear the sound of his belt being undone, and that sound alone intensifies the warmth between your thighs. you look at him through the polished glass as his hands make his way to your ass, grabbing your backside spreading it apart slightly giving him a full view of your wetness.
He positions himself at your entrance, guiding the tip of his shaft along the slickness of your wetness in an up and down motion , all the while maintaining eye contact and loving the needy expression you wear.
You start to turn around to beg him to fill you, but your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as he thrusts himself completely inside you, your head falls back in sheer delight, finally experiencing the sensation you've yearned for throughout the past couple of weeks. his thrusts are soft wanting you to get used to him
At that moment, he withdraws entirely, leaving just the tip inside you and then thrusting fully inside you without any warning. This elicits small moans from your lips, pulling you closer to him, and his grip around your waist tightens. The pace of his thrusts quicken, and you make every effort to stifle any sounds
Your fingers brush against his hands wanting to gain stability and comfort from his touch with him plunging inside you, it's a pleasurable ache, so intense that tears well up in your eyes. His lips move to tenderly kiss the top of your head, seeking to reciprocate the affectionate touch you crave. He gently squeezes your waist. In that moment. This action alone prompts a recollection towards the person who did the same to you just minutes ago, and his gaze narrows toward that specific spot.
his grip on that spot hardens, causing you to slightly wince knowing that it'll bruise later, you turn to look at Matt, but his fingers grasp your chin forcing you to look at yourself taking everything he gave you, his grip never leaves your face and you moan at the change in pace. It was overwhelming. and a smile was plastered on his face at the way he was breaking you, leaving you dumbfounded
"do you know who you belong to " he asks, his cheek coming into contact with yours. his soft hair brushes against your skin, pushing himself deeper inside you
"You matt"
" You positive ? " he asks moving your head to look at him, forcing eye contact while his thrusts get sloppier but deeper,not slowing down his pace, the feeling in your belly worsens.
"yes I promise"
His hips thrust against your backside, and you instinctively tighten around him, wanting to avert your gaze from his compelling eyes. You resist giving in to the impression that he has complete control over you. However, you find it impossible to look away as his firm grip on your face prevents any movement. Your hands grip his arm in a pleading gesture, silently urging him to allow you to finally reach climax.
He hates how delicate and kind you are, feeling an overwhelming need to protect you from any potential harm. He hates that he might be the cause of your emotional distance, fueled by the fear that his lifestyle could be too much for you to handle.
"don't get all shy now, you were confident when you let him touch you remember?"
"I'm sorry," you respond immediately, but he knows you're not to blame. Despite not being officially together, he doesn't care; in his mind, you belong to him, and he's determined to prove it. His thrusts show no signs of slowing down, and your hands instinctively move to the back of his head for support, irregardless of the tight grip he has around you
"If you ever let another man touch you the way that I do, you'll pay. got it?" you nod unable to articulate a response as your mind remains blank.
"Say it"
"yes matt" you choked.
he attaches his lips onto yours, for the first time in weeks and it shows how much you've missed each other, it was rough enough to bruise your lips His hand releases its hold on your waist, finding its way to your neck, exerting subtle pressure. He teeth delicately tugs at the bottom of your lip before letting go of his grip, ultimately granting you the freedom to lean fully against his chest.
he leans his head against yours, wanting to be as close to you letting you relax for a second until he's back at it, his fingers make their way to your swollen bud. The most audible sob escapes your lips as his fingers trace in circular motions, gently pinching the swollen area with his thumb and pointer finger.
"fuck i c-cant matt"
“you’re taking me so well baby, just a little longer for me " he replies to your plea, grabbing your hips to push back against his length, Handling you firmly, his fingers persist in vigorously rubbing your bud in circular motions, You thrash around him, overwhelmed by the intensity, but his grip around you prevents any escape,
"tell me how bad you want it " he says slowing down his thrusts, wanting you to suffer a little as his fingers skillfully work around the sensitive area, making you pant with the pleasant sensation. You squirm in response, caught between the pleasure and the firm grip that holds you in place.
"Really bad matt please" You cry in frustration, mascara staining your cheeks as you let the tears fall.
"come for me sweetheart" he encourages
Without a moment's hesitation, you comply with his command, and you feel yourself release all over him messily, Matt's hands swiftly move to your mouth muffling your sounds.
"That's it baby let it all out for me "
Your grip around his shaft is so intense that his body can only endure so much. His arms envelop every available inch of your body as he grapples to suppress his own noises.
you feel his release fill you, mixed with yours slowly spilling out from inside you and the sight alone cause him to harden. He gazes at your disheveled appearance, giving you continuous slow thrust, that drag out your orgasm, with smudged mascara running down your eyes and tousled hair. you may feel like a mess, to him, you appear vulnerable, and he likes that.
"you okay?" he asks
you curse him inwardly for consistently diverting your focus from reality. Both of you understand that this unhealthy pattern could lead to a disastrous outcome if left unaddressed. If either of you could set aside fear and selfishness, the nights wouldn't be consumed by your overthinking and He wouldn't harbor resentment towards those who are able to openly express their affections for you.
"yeah, you okay?" you ask him
A chance to resolve the indifference between you two presented itself, and he silently contemplated the options. The desire to admit his true feelings for you lingered, but the overwhelming fear held him back. He acknowledged that one day he might gather the courage, but for now, he selfishly preferred to keep things behind closed doors. He knew that he was being selfish, yet the thought of having you in any capacity seemed preferable to the prospect of losing you completely. Yet again, what started as a complicated situation only deepened in complexity.
"yeah" he replies leaning his head against yours, as he began to pull out from inside you slowly.
He hurriedly dresses, securing his belt, you make your way to the door, preparing to unlock it. Just as you're about to, he gently grabs your arm, pulling you close and placing his hand on your waist. "Are we really okay?" he asks, searching your eyes with a mix of concern and longing.
"mhm, i'll see you around?" swiftly, you reply and proceed to unlock the door The grip Matt has on your waist loosens, and the subtle detachment tugs at your heartstrings, leaving a slow ache.
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taglist: @loveesiren @christinarowie332 @daddyslilchickenfingers @mangosrar @kenzieiskoolaid @sturnphilia @lucvly @recklesssturniolo @mattslolita @ratatioulle
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robinsomega · 1 year
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miruko/rumi in rut x reader
this is a drabble for rumi in rut, i might make this a full length thing at some point but... here are my thoughts. it's by no means perfect this took me 15 minutes i am simply here to dump my opinions about rumi turning me into her cumdump idk what else there is to say. also male rabbits actually don't go into ruts so you can ignore that or think of this as an abo fic, either works
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content warnings: rumi has a dick, breeding kink, mentions of reader getting pregnant/carrying her kids, idk just lots of cum, i think that's it lmk if anything else needs to be tagged
thinking about rumi in a rut and the only thing she wants to do is fuck a baby into you... sharing her rut with her would be absolutely insane, because she literally won't stop until she's sure you're filled with as much cum as she can possibly stuff into you before either of you are able to sleep, her rut pushing her on to the point she can't even feel the overstimulation over the physical urge she has to get you knocked up carrying a litter of her kittens. just the thought of how you'd look stuffed full and carrying her kits has her hips picking up speed even further, jackrabbiting right into your wet heat. (pun slightly intended) by the time she's decided you're as stuffed as she can get you, the entire lower half of your body is numb and shaking. you don't know how many times she dumped a load in you but you do know how heavy your stomach feels, filled to the absolute brim. you don't know how you're going to last until the end of the week when this is only the second day.
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bonny-kookoo · 6 months
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Jungkook
𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 5
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A smile from you is all he needs to feel recharged.
Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, Angst , emotional kook, suggestive messages, poor Maria pt.1 [Tags will be different for every part!]
Length: 1k Words
There is no taglist for this fic.
Collab with @euphoricfilter ! 💜
-> Masterlist
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
This is not going to plan at all.
Not only is he behind schedule wise, he's also not thought about the possibility of what this all might look like to you at all. Because why would you even think that in the first place? He'd be absolutely stupid to cheat on you, let alone with a 64 year old married woman of all people!
But then again, you don't know that part- and he also can't really properly explain it as he would surely blow his own cover, and he's just too close to the finish line to give up now. He already almost cried at deleting your face ID and fingerprint from his phone, feeling like he deleted the memory of setting those things up too, but he swore himself it's for a good cause down the line. You'll make so many more memories together for sure, and they'll top those more than by just a little. He'll make sure that they will.
[Alright, I'm so excited! Next time let's do it this way right from the start- no need to make it so complicated!] Maria had wrote him in full, and he reads over it with a bit of worry. Does she really understand what he meant by his worries?
[I'm not sure you understand. I'm planning something big, and I'm also behind when it comes to physical intimacy these days, you know?] He writes the woman, who he's asked prior about the rules and such regarding.. well, sex in the home he's renting out for the upcoming special occasion he's planned. He doesn't want to get locked up for not following some Airbnb laws he overlooked after all. That would just be embarrassing. [And we're very intimate people. I'm taking her pleasure and happiness seriously, if you get the hint.] He texts her as he boils some water on the stove for his absolute accurately made ramyeon.
[Oh trust me, I've been young too! No need to be shy, I can only imagine that emotions will run high most likely!] She responds, and Jungkook pursed his lips for a second, before he starts to play with his piercings deep in thought.
[No, Maria, I don't think you get it-] he begins to type. [-it's been almost two full weeks at this point, that's the longest we've ever gone without any sex, we're talking at least three orgasms a day times fourteen, I've got some major catching up to do..] jungkook sends her, before he puts his phone down for a second as to prepare the instant noodles properly.
[It's fine, really. No need to worry!] The woman responds. But jungkook wants to make sure.
[She's a squirter- you know what that is right? Either way it's gonna get messy so I'm just making sure you REALLY know what you're getting into if you say it's alright because the carpet looked really nice and I'm not sure how to get cum stains out of that] he rambles, not noticing you emerge from the bedroom now as you put your bag on one of the kitchen chairs. [I can replace it too if that happens no problem, you know how my girlfriend gets haha. Well you don't but you will know after we're done with the place-] he taps and accidentally sends out as you call his name, causing him to almost drop his phone into the soup pot on the stove, only barely catching it in time before he can practically throw it into the pocket of his sweatpants. "Yeah?" He asks towards you, and you look at him still way too hostile in his opinion.
He knows you can be a bit of a hot head. It's what he loves about you- how fierce you can get and how you'll always stand your ground. But he also knows that you're a bit of an aklebiter with some serious anger issues sometimes- once you see red, you don't see anything else anymore. So he's got to be careful not to fuck it up any further, because once he loses you, he loses for good.
Because you're stubborn if you've made up your mind.
"The water's boiling over." You mumble, avoiding his gaze as you sit at the kitchen table, arms crossed in defense. He jumps at your words and turns off the stove at that, somewhat awkwardly playing up some food into bowl for the both of you, watching you eat silently across from him with an almost needy gaze.
You're gonna probably try and kick his balls if he asks you to sit on his lap right now, so he swallows down the request to keep them intact.
He's gonna seriously crunch some hours while you're sleeping over at a friend's house so he can still make the deadline, able to pass up on sleep with you not actually home to scold him for it. He hates the fact that the app on his phone constantly reminds him of the lack of intimacy between you two- taunting him with notifications about his streak being broken, his record being topped, his spot up top on the scoreboard being taken. He hates it. He created this app, he should be the one who's best at it too!
God he can't wait to get his hands on you again. He feels like his dick is going to fall off in the next few days.
And it's not just that, either. He doesn't sleep well when you're not with him, he misses all the interactions you usually have during the day, the love, the intimacy of just being close, he misses it so bad. And he kind of doesn't want you to leave right now- he'd love to just call it quits and just cave in, but he's come too far now, and you're also a strong independent woman. You deserve to choose where you want to go or stay, he's got no say in that- or at least he shouldn't try to have it.
"I.. You'll text me when you wanna come back home, right?" He asks as he finishes his bowl, and you shrug.
"Whatever." You mumble. "S' not like you want me home for more than the chores anyways." You huff into your food, and he can't help but feel his eyes tear up. No, stupid Jungkook, don't fucking cry right now. You're gonna ruin it all with your dumb tears and weak heart just like always-
"I do want you home.." he mumbles quietly, blinking harder to avoid you spotting anything off- but you notice. Of course you do.
"...I'll text you." You say, and that at least soothes his mind for the moment as his phone falls out of his pocket, screen cracking and making him cringe.
Fuck. That's the what.. 20th time this year?
But it's all worth it, if it means he can at least see the hint of a smile pull at your lips for once.
The sight alone motivation enough to make him work even harder now.
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greenlikethesea · 1 year
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@sparklyslug and I commissioned the incredible @mardyart to draw a pivotal scene from our fic, Three Weddings and a Funeral, a part in our currently sprawling universe Let us Dwell in Fair Ithilien and There Make a Garden. For those who have read, you might recognize this as a scene from the third chapter, post [redacted] funeral, where Steve and Eddie have a conversation in the Byers-Hopper kitchen about what is deserved.
Thank you so much for this beautiful art, Mardy. We’re so unbelievably thrilled with the finished product, and we couldn’t be happier. You’re the best!
Referenced fic excerpt under the cut, for context!
 “Oh Joyce, love of my life,” Eddie says to himself, removing several pints of Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer and lining them up on the kitchen counter. Without even asking Steve for his preference, he wordlessly hands Steve the almost full pint of Cherry Garcia. He just knows which one is his favorite, apparently, which shouldn’t surprise Steve as much as it does. “Do you think it’s too soon to propose to her?”
 “I see your stance on asking people out at funerals has changed,” Steve remarks, ignoring the swoop in his stomach at Eddie’s (playful, completely not serious, Joyce is their mom) suggestion.
 “First of all, post-funeral is fair game,” Eddie says as he gets out two bowls and two spoons; he, like Steve, knows this kitchen like the back of his hand. Even knows where to find a jar of apparently unopened maraschino cherries, theatrically blowing the dust off the lid into Steve’s face, who in return theatrically coughs and gags. After a slight pause, he takes the pint of Cherry Garcia out of Steve’s hand and sets to making a little sundae for him. Steve can only dumbly watch as Eddie gives him two scoops and presses down on them so they’re a little softer, just how Steve likes it, adding a brusquely effective swirl of whipped cream, cherries on top, before handing it back to him. In Steve’s professional opinion, it’s a Scoops Ahoy-worthy performance. Makes him kind of wish the outfit was involved, mmm.
 “Secondly,” Eddie says, Steve doing a quick mental scramble away from the vision of Eddie in blue striped shorts and back towards whatever the hell they had been talking about, “I’m pretty sure a sexless marriage is out of the question for her, so it would be a swift no.” He’s less formal with his own ice cream prep, simply jamming a spoon into his own tub (Phish Food, which is just so typically him), whipped cream and cherries apparently forgotten.
 “She deserves better than that,” Steve says now, years later, chasing a stray cherry around the side of his bowl with his spoon. “And so do you.”
 Eddie gives Steve a look, a little bit of humor and a little bit of apprehension and a bit of evaluation. And something so unsurprised, too, a kind of fond      Jesus H Christ, of course smile manifesting just through the shadow of a dimple, not quite making itself entirely seen.
 “I know,” Eddie says simply. The quiet confidence of a man who does know what he deserves, does know that he can and should be desired. Treasured. And get what he wants. And who is, maybe, a little surprised that Steve knows that too.
 Steve pops the maraschino cherry between his teeth, flavor exploding at the back of his tongue, just this shy of too syrupy-sweet, as he looks at Eddie’s face. He can feel it coming in, then. The way he’s heard that the water pulls all the way back far as the eye can see, before a tsunami comes rushing back in. Has a sense of what’s heading his way, in the time that it takes for Eddie to shake his head ruefully and continue, taking his eyes off Steve’s face in an uncharacteristically indirect move. One of only a handful of times Steve can think of, when Eddie hasn’t looked frank and fearless into Steve’s eyes.
 “You do too,” Eddie says to his bowl with quiet ferocity, and follows it with a spoonful of ice cream so quickly that it’s like he’s trying to stuff the words back in. Cover up the evidence with Ben&Jerry’s finest.
I love him, Steve thinks, the hundred-foot high wave coming in. Less devastating of a natural disaster, but sure as shit knocking him off his feet and sending him spinning. Hey, Eddie. I love you.  
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akumakosuke · 2 months
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Yay, I finally finished the first chapter of my new fic...
†Our cursed love†
This is my first time writing an actual fic so it might not be that good, constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged! I would really like to know your opinions on what I'm doing right and wrong, things I should change and so forth.
A little PS this is not going to be absolutely canon, there will be some changes to the lore and techniques so be warned. I am also fully up to date on the manga so there will be manga spoilers.
Please enjoy the first chapter of ‡Our cursed love‡.
No warnings
~_Our cursed love._~
Chapter 1- Our pedestal.
~No one POV:~
The day is like any other day to most people. The sun blazing high in the bright blue sky, perfect white fluffy clouds dot the sky, moving along swiftly with the breeze. The sound of streets full of vehicles and streets full of people fills the air.
The day was like any other to non-sorcerers.
They all go about their lives, completely oblivious to the two Gods currently walking among them, blissfully unaware of the evil seeking to destroy these two Gods.
The day was like any other to the two Gods. Aware they’re being hunted but unaware of each other.
It’s true what they say, ‘ignorance is bliss’ and our two Gods will have to learn that lesson the hard way.
~3rd Person POV~
A young boy, around the age of 9 walks with an unusually cold face for a child wearing a blue hoodie with beige shorts and black sneakers. His expression isn’t the only eye catching thing about him, his eyes are quite simply breathtaking. Strikingly brilliant sky blue orbs. His short, fluffy white hair gently swaying in the breeze.
To passers by he seems like a relatively normal child with oddly spectacular looks but normal is not a word fit to describe this God.
Satoru Gojo decided to take a trip to Shibuya for no other reason than boredom. He knows it’s ‘dangerous’ because of the many, many bounties on his head but does he care? No, of course not.
Why would he care? He’s a ‘God’ right? All these fools are beneath him, besides its clear that none of them would even be a problem, he might be 9 but he knows his place in this world, he knows the ‘blessing’ he’s been born with and he knows how to use it -albeit not well- one glare is enough to dissuade anyone crazy enough to target him.
He can sense them all around him, thinking they’re hiding their cursed energy well but nothing can get past his six eyes, nothing.
~10 minutes earlier~
A young boy with long grey hair tied into a neat pony wearing a (f/c) shirt and (2/f/c) pants that are clearly too big for him and a pair of (f/c) boots steps out of a fancy black car in the middle of Shibuya. The 9 year old closes the door and the car drives off, left unattended which would be odd if he were just a boy, although his expression is somewhat normal for a boy his age, relatively bored, his eyes hidden by a pair of blacked out glasses with a circular frame.
He confidently makes his way through the busy streets, despite his small size he easily navigates a path through the much taller adults, some only sparing him a brief glance but none question why there’s a clear gap between him and everyone, a physically space none of them an seem to cross, naturally and absentmindedly moving around the boy to avoid it.
M/n Goto is aware of this gap as it’s intentional. He’s practicing although the few hungry pairs of eyes on him are distracting. M/n knows venturing out alone is ‘risky’ because of how valuable he is but hes a God isn’t he? Those fools are beneath him.
They’re clearly trying very hard to hide their cursed energy but alas it’s in vain, M/n sensed them following him since he left his estate. It’s not like any of them would be a problem for him, he knows his place in the world, he knows the ‘blessing’ he was born with and he knows how to use it -thanks to his loving father training him since he could walk-, one glare is enough to dissuade any idiotic enough to try and mess with a God, besides nothing can touch him without his permission, nothing.
~present time~
Destiny is a funny thing, many argue its existence.
If destiny exists then freedom cannot.
If freedom exists then destiny cannot.
Many argue its existence, many chose to deny its existence, they chose freedom.
The freedom of choice.
M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo do not believe in destiny.
M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo both chose to come to Shibuya today because they wanted to, they were bored and chose to do the riskiest thing by leaving unsupervised.
They both chose to walk this random street, they both decided they were tired of being followed and chose to turn around. A completely, random choice.
Completely random.
“Huh-?!”
“What-?!”
Time suddenly stops for two young, lonely, untouchable Gods.
M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo do not believe in destiny, so what is this feeling? Not the physical feeling of their shoulders colliding.
This sudden tug, this oddly familiar feeling like meeting a different version of yourself.
Luminous, sparkling sky blue orbs meet now uncovered blazing, blood red orbs and for the first time both are in absolutely awe of another’s appearance.
~M/n POV~
‘He- he bumped into me… his eyes… they’re… how did he-? This feeling… who is he, i feel like I should know… wait… he’s…’
~Satoru POV~
‘I didn’t sense him-? He touched me… i was sure i had it on… those eyes, they’re breathtaking… who is he? Why do i feel like I should know him? Wait… he’s…’
~3rd person POV~
“Cursed.” They both mumble at the same time causing both their eyes to widen, both taking a step back from the other.
The warm, carbon filled air suddenly feels a whole lot more suffocating, the feeling tugging at both of them gets stronger and they both know the other feels it.
It’s an odd sight, two unsupervised 9 year old standing in the middle of a busy Shibuya street just silently staring at each other in what can only be described as bewilderment.
For the longest time they’ve both believed them to have no equal. From the moment they opened their eyes they were forced to live in a word beneath them filled with people beneath them. They were put on pedestals so high no one else could ever hope to climb it and yet…
Their lonely pedestal is apparently bigger than they thought, all they had to do was turn around and be confronted with the other.
A shared pedestal is something everyone told them was impossible, they were born Gods among mortals, they were special, miracles, forever alone.
“Goto M/n…” M/n, finally regaining his brain, blurts out, feeling something he’s never felt before, nervous.
“Gojo Satoru…” Satoru eventually replies, having taken a few more seconds to recover and identify the unknown feeling in his chest, anxiety.
“We should probably lose them first before we talk…” M/n suggests, hesitantly turning his gaze away from Satoru and toward one of the groups of curse users currently hiding out in a tall building across the street with horror on their faces because the sheer amount of power coming from the two Gods is mind breaking.
Satoru turns his gaze towards another group hiding on a rooftop few building’s down with the same expression and hums in agreement. He slowly reaches out to grab M/n’s hand, he doesn’t know why but he just does.
The moment their skin makes contact they both jump, the feeling of physically touching another is so foreign, so intrusive yet so natural.
They quickly easy into the feeling, Satoru pulling M/n along and M/n following without complaint.
This action feels so normal it’s almost easy to forget the innocent looking 9 year old boys are running away from assassins hunting Gods not boys.
They both in this moment, forget they are Gods, they forget they are cursed, they both, even if only for a fleeting moment just feel like two normal boys, running freely through the streets of Shibuya, unsure of when they actually started running but unwilling to spend any time thinking about it.
They just run, the destination isn’t a concern to either of them and after running for what felt like both a lifetime and barely a second they stop in a dark, dirty alleyway, joyful laughter still bubbling from their chests as they catch their breath.
“Phew, I’m pretty sure we lost them.” Satoru comments as he leans against the wall, relaxing a bit more because he can’t sense anyone else.
“Hmm, it would be foolish of them to follow.” M/n adds, leaning on the opposite wall, also relaxing.
A short, comfortable silence envelopes the two Gods as their gazes lock, again being completely caught off guard by the other’s eyes. Millions of questions run through both of their minds, having finally found another like them is something they didn’t think possible , they were told it’s impossible.
“How… how did you touch me? Get past my barrier which I’m positive was active?” M/n asks incredulously, he should be absolutely horrified someone can bypass his technique but he isn’t.
Satoru looks at M/n in slight shock, now being made aware the other also had a barrier active at the time of contact.
“I… I don’t know, i also had a barrier active so maybe they cancelled out?” Satoru would have never thought he’d say that with such a casual tone, someone being able to bypass the one thing that makes him untouchable, he should see M/n as a threat but he doesn’t.
“So we both have a kind of barrier technique and they cancel out somehow… that should be horrifying right? Our one impenetrable defence rendered useless…” M/n’s voice drops to a low whisper but there’s no hint of defensiveness, simply taking in the fact he can be touched, he’s not unbeatable.
“It should but honestly it just makes me excited ya know?” Satoru chuckles, his eyes sparkling even more as his usual cold expression replaced a small grin, his heart is still pounding in his chest, the tugging feeling getting stronger the longer the talks to M/n.
M/n mirrors Satoru’s expression, feeling the same pounding in his chest, the tugging feeling moving his feet forward as he takes a seat on the floor next to Satoru, his barrier preventing his clothes from getting dirty. Satoru quickly joins him, activating his own barrier to stay clean.
Although both of them are just 9 years old, being born basically ‘God’s’ they naturally possessed some basic control of their techniques, both already having trained to use their techniques for a few hours none stop before they get tired.
“It is isn’t, my entire life I’ve been told no one would be able to challenge me and I thought how boring that sounds, they said I stand on a pedestal made for Gods and that I alone stand atop it, atop everyone else and then I thought how… lonely that sounded…” M/n says, pulling his legs to his chest as he rests his head on his knees, looking at his new found friend.
Satoru adopts the same pose, his mind and soul filled with pure joy as M/n speaks because he understands, he understands so well and he never thought someone else would understand.
“Mhm, they called me blessed my entire life, a miracle. Showering me in praises and gifts alike, telling me how special I am, how I’m better than everyone else. They also call me a God, put me on a pedestal too tall for a kid… They don’t see the view from the top, they don’t see how big and empty that pedestal is…”
M/n listens to Satoru, there’s something freeing in listening to him speak, like a weight lifted off his shoulders, the weight of being called the strongest and the loneliness that comes with it, a weight no 9 year old should even have to know about.
“Well it was big and empty but perhaps we can share it?” M/n asks with a hopeful tone, somehow already knowing he doesn’t really need to ask.
“I… I would like that. Our pedestal?” Satoru has never felt this type of excitement, the idea of sharing, being equal to someone else, of not being alone is enough to make him feel like a normal kid.
“Our pedestal.” M/n repeats, the word ‘our’ rolling off his tongue so naturally.
“So what do you normally do for fun? When you’re actually allowed to do what you want ?” Satoru asks, clearly excited to do whatever friends do when they hang out, he’s excited because he doesn’t really known what others do because he’s never bothered to pay attention to anyone else, they were beneath him so there was no point in getting to know them but now, now he’s never been more interested in another.
M/n grins, suddenly standing up and looking down at Satoru with a sparkles in his already spectacular eyes. Satoru still can’t believe he likes someone else’s eyes more than his own, his attention immediately glued on M/n. They both feel that tug again as M/n extends his hand towards Satoru, the idea of physical contact regardless of their barriers still seems so absurd but so enticing.
“Wanna find out?”
Satoru takes M/n’s hand, the unfamiliar warmth of another comforting their souls , penetrating their minds. M/n pulls Satoru up and their hands stay linked as they exit the alleyway, M/n leading the way, unknowingly staring the first chapter in a very long and dangerous book.
--------------------------------------------------
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@itsgivingitalian
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shhhsecretsideblog · 11 days
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No Time To Hide
This was something I wrote for an Imagine You’re Pregnant prompt, original post here. Thought I’d make a side blog and post it here as well cos I really enjoyed writing this and might be tempted to write more birth fics
Eva opened the wooden window of her small cottage, letting the cool autumn air whip through her hair. The smell of woodland and damp grass filled her nostrils as she took a long, calming breath.
Describing herself as a green witch, Eva loved her little cottage hidden away from everyone deep within the rich forest. Coven life was never something that appealed to her; the idea of being constantly surrounded by other witches, their opinions and their magic, was torture for Eva. She much preferred her own company, free to live her life the way she wanted. Free to use her own style of magic, without the distraction or judgement of others. It was why she decided to live here in the heart of the forest. There was a river that flowed through the centre of the woodland, the ancient trees stood tall around her home, and the forest floor was packed with all manner of plant life. It was perfect; just her, the elements and Mother Nature.
Despite her preference of living alone, as time passed Eva began to yearn for something… it wasn’t romance or friendship, but the idea of a child. Children were never something she had considered, but as she grew older Eva had begun to see the benefit of having children. Someone to pass all her knowledge and wisdom to, someone to love and care for and share all that she’d learnt. She wanted to pass on this way of living, to create a legacy.
A few months ago, nine to be exact, she enchanted a local townsman - not that he would ever remember it. And now here she was, rocking side to side and cradling the underneath of her heavily pregnant stomach, preparing herself as birth drew near.
The cramps had started yesterday afternoon, small and barely noticeable at first. Eva had been terribly uncomfortable these last few weeks, suffering constant aches and twinges, so she did not immediately give them any thought. However when they got sharper and more frequent, forcing her to pause whatever she was doing, they soon got her full attention.
Not knowing how long this could take but knowing she would eventually lose mobily as her labour progressed, she collected all her preparations and got the supplies ready. Blankets, towels, sterilised medical equipment, all within easy reach in the main living room. Snacks and drinks lay available on the coffee table and a pot of hot water sat by the open fire keeping a constant warm temperature.
“Mmmnnngghhhhh” Eva moaned deeply as the latest wave peaked. She leaned forward resting her elbows on the window sill, jutting her hips back and swaying them slightly. The baby was low and heavy in her pelvis, the head pressing downwards as her body slowly opened up.
When the latest pain had eased Eva straightened and looked down at her swollen stomach, speaking lovingly towards her unborn babe. “You’re really coming aren’t you little one? I’ve not done this before so please take it easy on me.” Her child responded with a gentle kick prompting the witch to smile.
Over the next few hours Eva got into a good rhythm riding out the contractions, each one hitting sooner than the last and with incrementally more vigour. She paced, rocked, squatted, kneeled, trying to find any comfortable position to ride out the waves. Her low and heavy stomach made moving from position to position cumbersome; one hand staying on her bump or her lower back at any given time, while the other kept her supported on whatever furniture or surface was nearby.
As the contractions ramped up, creeping steadily towards unbearable, the witch’s teeth clenched tight and she growled behind them. Three minutes apart. Holding on to the back of her armchair Eva lowered herself into a deep squat. Sweat covered every inch of her body, her thin linen dress and underwear clinging to every curve of her fertile frame.
Her hips were in agony, the pressure building. She opened her mouth to wail but no sound came out, shocked into silence by a sudden burst between her open thighs. Immediately the pressure eased and Eva could catch her breath again. The wooden floor below her feet was soaked; her waters had broken.
“Oooooooh okay- We’re getting so close- Are you ready to come out now baby? I cannot wait to meet you.”
Eva stood up, cradling the curve of her spasming bump. Her bare feet stepped ungainly out of the puddle on the floor and she quickly threw a tea towel down to soak up the worst of it.
“It’s just you and me, little one. We can do this.” Eva reassured herself, rubbing circles around her swell, preparing for the intensity to soar now her waters had gone.
However, before the next contraction could strike the witch startled at the sudden loud interruption of ringing bells. Rapid and urgent, the piercing chimes echoed all around her cottage, howling through every room.
Witch hunter!
The enchantments set up around her hidden home in the forest hadn’t gone off in decades - she had almost forgotten the wards were still in place. And yet the incessant ringing immediately chilled her to her very bones, suddenly haunting her with long forgotten memories of the brutal murders of her fellow witches.
Her stomach clenched with a new, different sensation - fear. At any other time Eva would arm herself with weapons and potions and storm outside on the offence, making sure to take down her enemy before he had the opportunity to strike. But now… the pressing weight in her hips and the constant aching of her contracting womb showed she was in no position to attack, or even defend herself, if put up against a murderous witch hunter.
She had to get out of here. The warning bells throughout her home would soon reach the ears of the witch hunter and then he would beeline straight to her hidden sanctuary. She needed to find somewhere else to hide.
Distracted by the chimes, Eva was unprepared for the next contraction when it ripped across her body, rooting her to the spot. She doubled over in pain, palms planted firmly on her thighs.
“Unnnhhhhhhhhhhhh no-no-no-no……” she whimpered through strained breaths as the pain skyrocketed and her belly hardened. Panting heavily the witch ignored growing desire to bear down. Her waters had broken, she was probably almost fully dilated, if not already. But she couldn’t stay here. If she stayed, both her and her child would certainly be killed. She had to leave and find somewhere safe to deliver this baby.
After what felt like an eternity, the contraction finally faded and she bolted straight out the back door of her cottage, leaving barefoot with nothing but the clothes on her back. She had wasted precious minutes since the warning alarm riding out that last pain - she couldn’t afford to waste any more time gathering supplies to take with her. Eva took off as quickly as she could, disappearing deep into the lush green forest.
She barely got out of sight behind the first set of oak trees before another contraction was already upon her. Two minutes apart. Leaning against the rough bark of the nearest tree, Eva squeezed her eyes shut and tried hard to swallow the whimper creeping out her throat. The unbearable pressure was demanding in its silent request and her knees trembled with the effort of ignoring it. The baby was so heavy, and dangerously low. Feeling like it would just fall out if she took a step too wide. Yet she remained strong, persevering and weathering the storm in her uterus, determined to keep this baby inside of her until she got somewhere safe.
The second the pain let up an inch the witch was on the move again running as fast as she could across the forest floor. Over ferns and moss, rocks and fallen branches, thankfully the hardened soles of her bare feet were used to the uneven terrain. She made sure to keep off the main footpath and stayed hidden within the dense trees, but it made for more of an obstacle course than she’d like. With added weight of her labouring belly she couldn’t move at speed and on a few occasions nearly lost her balance. But deeper and deeper into the forest she went.
The trees became her allies, providing cover and support when she was forced to stop with each new powerful contraction… 90 seconds apart... 60 seconds apart. A large, ancient willow tree with an unusually curved trunk was the latest comrade in her fight for survival. Eva had pitched herself within the alcove of the trunk, out of sight and leaning back against the bark, lifting the weight of her hardened stomach with both hands. The long hanging branches brushed the forest floor in a circle around her position, hiding the witch behind a nature-made curtain.
“Grnnnhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Eva could no longer hold in the animalistic sounds of her extremely advanced labour. The baby was right there, nestled deep in her widened cervix, desperate to be born.
“Nooooooooo-please-baby-wait-a-bit-moreeeeeee-” she begged through gritted teeth. The next contraction started before the current had even finished and the need to push was too powerful to refrain. Knees bending and thighs widening, Eva’s body pushed of its own accord.
It felt right, pushing. It was what she was meant to be doing - to follow nature's primal instinct. And yet she couldn’t forget the very real threat of the witch hunter, still hidden somewhere in this forest, poised and primed to kill her.
The fierce contraction continued to hold her hostage. A long grunt escaped her mouth as her body pushed along with the pain.
“I can hear you, witch!” A gravelled voice taunted from across the thick forest.
Eva’s eyes widened and immediately clamped her mouth shut, biting her lips together drawing blood. Half squatting against the tree, every muscle in her body continued to strain as it forced the baby lower and lower and lower. She couldn’t stop pushing even if she tried. One of the hands cradling her stomach shakily ventured south, lifting up her dress and feeling between her legs. Through the thin damp fabric of her underwear she could feel the baby’s head begin to enter the world.
She panted silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. The forest stretched out for miles, completely uninhabited in all directions; she was all alone. There was nowhere to go and no one to help. Heavily pregnant, being hunted, and seconds away from birthing this child.
A loud snap of wood echoed from a few metres away. Eva suddenly bolted like a startled deer, consumed entirely by fear and survival, and disappeared again into the thickened wood. She ran, wide legged, the heavy boulder of a baby’s head deep in her pelvis screaming to be born. Push! Her body cried out. Stop running and PUSH!
But she couldn’t. If she stopped she’d be dead.
Another contraction ripped through her as she ran. 30 seconds apart. Her muscles tensed and squeezed as she ran, her body trying to force the baby out despite the mother’s desire to hold on a bit longer. She could barely stay upright, the raw adrenaline no longer enough to keep this birth at bay. Her legs became jelly, all she could feel was pain and pressure and fear. Eva faltered, she couldn’t go any further. Out in the open she planted her hands against the nearest tree, widening her stance, and pushed. Hard.
“Mnnnnnnnrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!!!”
More of her baby’s head began to appear behind the fabric of her tight underwear.
“Ohhhhhhhhhh-Hecateeeeeeeeeeee!” she whimpered, praying to the deity.
Her baby was close to fully crowning, she could feel it. The white hot agony of being widened and stretched beyond anything she imagined made her eyes water and throat nauseous. She retched, a dry heave, and desperately tried to catch a breath through the dual need to push and the sudden urge to vomit. The texture of the rough bark beneath her palms was the only thing keeping the witch semi-grounded and preventing her getting swept away in the overwhelming sensations currently tearing her body apart. Still bracing the tree, Eva’s head dipped as she took slow deep breaths, ignoring the instinct to push in order to ride out the sudden nausea.
An ominous whistling sound drifted through the trees carried on the wind. Eva could barely hear it over the thundering beating of her heart, that is until she heard:
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” The voice sang.
The witch hunter was close. But so was her baby... Eva felt between her legs again to evaluate just how bad her situation was. It was bad. Her underwear was stretched beyond repair as it housed a significant portion of her baby’s head, filling her cupped palm. Ignoring all the pain and her body’s pleas to push, she panted heavily and tried to think! She needed a plan to survive.
The witch hunter had physical strength, yes, but he did not know these woods like Eva did. This was her home, her sanctuary, and she knew every inch like the back of her hand. Beyond her laboured breaths and the unnerving whistling of the approaching witch hunter, Eva registered another sound nearby - the swooshing sound of running water. The river - she was by the river!
Lifting her head the witch frantically scanned the surrounding area, getting her bearings of where she’d ended up within the woodland. She was a few hundred yards from the river’s edge, about a mile from her cottage. It wasn’t an area she often visited because of…. That’s it! Okay, it wasn’t a great plan, and there was no way to know if it would work, but it was her only shot of survival.
She took a steadying breath through the current contraction squeezing her womb, fighting once more against the primal need to push. The baby’s head filled her underwear, millimetres from a full crown. If she pushed again there was no way she’d be able to stop until the head was fully born.
Whimpering through the pain Eva stood up straight, one hand staying between her legs, and she prepared herself to move. Just get to the river. She told herself before making her way unsteadily east.
The sound of rushing water grew louder as she stumbled slowly through the forest. One step. Another step. Nearly there. She knew exactly where to go, and where to avoid, desperately trying to stay focussed on her surroundings and not succumb to the agonising pain crowning between her thighs. Keep going.
“You can’t escape me, witch!” The voice threatened, getting closer.
Eva stumbled into the side of a tree, her bare shoulder scraping against the bark. Pausing, she took a brief moment to breathe through the pain. It was a mistake. The second she stopped to inhale deeply her body started bearing down again, forcing the baby down. Immediately the head came to a full crown in her damp underwear and she screamed.
“WITCH!” The murderous voice roared.
Eva turned and saw a flash of black leather through the distant trees, and it was coming her way. Cupping the baby’s head she tentatively wobbled forwards, knees trembling, staggering towards the riverbank. The blinding pain was constant, her eyes barely focussing. She had to make it to the exact right spot or her plan would certainly fail. Her footsteps were shaky but determined as she continued the last few carefully placed steps in her journey. Behind her the crunching sound of a disturbed forest floor drew ever closer.
Reaching the river’s edge Eva collapsed against the large boulder that sat on the grassy bank. She made it. Turning around against the stone, the cold granite pressed against her back as she faced the woods and waited for the imminent arrival of the witch hunter. But the baby’s head inched lower, her body stretched to its absolute limit. She wanted to cry, to howl, to scream. Instead she focussed inward, drawing on all the power from the earth under her feet, and taking a deep breath she finally, and intentionally, followed her body’s demands. Teeth gritted, a growl behind them, she pushed with everything she had. Her whole body trembled, bearing down against the pressure of the large round head slowly appearing between her thighs. The ears… a nose… she could feel it all. Her hands frantically scrambled under her dress and within seconds the baby’s head popped out into her underwear and she cupped it quickly within her palm. The relief was instant and for a brief moment Eva’s heart calmed as she held her child’s newly born crown.
The witch’s reprieve was short-lived as the approaching footsteps from behind one of the nearby trees resulted in another person soon entering the river's edge. The witch hunter was dark haired, full beard, but was not as athletic as Eva was expecting. There was sweat glistening on his temple and dripping down his neck, disappearing beneath a thick leather jacket. His mouth practically drooled at the sight of her and he gripped the long hunting knife in his hand. The lust for her death was haunting.
“At last… you’ve given it a good go, I’ll give you that, but you cannot escape your fate.” The man said as he took a step towards her, threateningly swishing the knife in readiness. “You are an abomination, evil incarnate. Witchcraft has no place here. My family has been taking your lot out for centuries. And it looks like I get the honour of not only killing you… but the next generation as well.” He glared at her pregnant swell.
“No- no! This- this child is innocent…” Eva panted, still holding the head of her half-born babe hidden under the draped fabric of her dress.
The witch hunter scoffed and took another two ominous steps in her direction through the fallen autumn leaves. Eva watched each step with a laser focus.
“No descendant of a witch is truly innocent.” He drawled, tilting his head with an unnerving animalistic incline. “Wickedness will run through its veins, there is no saving its soul.”
Eva couldn’t take her eyes off his feet, watching every step he took. She chose this location for a reason, knowing she needed to end up exactly here by the rivers edge - dangerously using herself as bait. His heavy boots crunched through the orange leaves, sauntering slowly towards her like he was toying with his prey. So close. Her heart stopped, breath held as Eva prayed to all the Goddesses for her plan to work. Then whoosh!
The witch hunter was suddenly hoisted in the air by his foot, caught in a primitive trap laid here many years ago by the previous inhabitants of these woods, whom were long dead and forgotten. The man roared as he was pulled sharply towards the sky, his arms flailing, the hunting knife falling from his hand in his shock.
Eva exhaled heavily and closed her eyes in pure relief. The steady thumping of heart pulsed around her body, beating once more now the immediate threat disappeared. The man yelled and shouted at her as he hung limply from the tree, but the sound barely registered with the witch. Her senses had been overtaken by the sudden movement of the baby, turning inside her, and an all too familiar urgent weight pressing down signalling her work was not yet over.
Eva tried to move but she was too far gone, too deep in labour, every muscle seemingly locked in position. “Unhhhhhhhh Hecate….. mnnnggghhhhh the baby- the baby is comingg…..” she whimpered, the pain splitting her in half as she was stretched once more with the baby’s shoulders. All her bodyweight was pressed back against the boulder, and she managed to sink towards the ground. Squatting deeply, her large rounded stomach rested heavily between her thighs.
“Ohhhh it’s coming…. I- need… mnghhhhhhhh I’ve got to… got to pushh...”
She ripped off her underwear as the next contraction started, freeing the baby’s head from the confines of the damp linen. With both hands ready to catch, the witch pushed with renewed determination. “Urghhhhhhhhhhhh!” One shoulder was out! Then the next shoulder. She took a breath, panting, holding the child dangling from her body. Eva became suddenly hyper-aware of the breeze and leaves, the nearby river and the crisp autumn air, all the elements surrounding them which her child was now being born directly into. Trembling, she beared down fiercely once more and within another few minutes a newly born witch entered the world.
Eva sobbed with relief, quickly pulling her daughter up over her stomach and placing her against her chest. The infant made a soft gurgling sound, her first breath, and then started to cry. To a new mother it was the most beautiful and reassuring sound in the world.
“Disgusting…. Filthy little vermin.” The witch hunter sneered with venom.
Eva had forgotten her audience and looked up with hatred at the man still swinging upside down from the tree. She held her baby tight and secure against her skin, as if shielding the child from the mere sight of him.
“You should drown that thing in the river.” He spat.
Red, blinding fury overwhelmed the new mother. With the pain gone and her baby safe in arms, pure fury raced through every pore of the witch’s body, consuming every atom of her being. Rising slowly, babe still clutched in hand, Eva approached the hanging man with eyes glowing with revenge.
“When I get free, I'm gonna enjoy splitting you from ear to ear!” He roared.
Her head tilted in observation watching the man’s disgusting arrogance in his determination to kill her despite still struggling against the rope binding his leg. Apparently unaware his threats were idle and his attempts to escape the trap were futile.
The witch bent down carefully to pick up the large silver blade that had fallen amongst the browning leaves. The man didn’t see the new mother pick up his weapon, and didn't notice the switch when the hunted became the hunter. Eva stalked silently, murderously towards the hanging man.
Before he could open his mouth to mock or belittle or challenge her, Eva’s hand swished past his vision in a flash, the blade gliding through the witch hunter's throat like a knife through butter. The man’s eyes widened, taking a heartbeat to register what just happened, before the cascade of blood erupted from the open wound and he began to choke and splutter.
Eva dropped the knife.
Delicately readjusting and shhhing the newborn cradled in her arm, she took one final look and started their journey back to the cottage. Eva found comfort in the sounds of the forest; of the flowing river, the whistle of a breeze, and the drip drip dripping of her enemies blood now pooling onto the forest floor.
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