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#this is based on what I said in an earlier post
cathalbravecog · 3 months
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scenecore misty back at it again!! + a speedpaint! :D
it wasn't meant to be a youtube link, but uploading the video file itself won't work, so apologies about that i know youtube links are annoying on tumblr please don't kill me </3
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bitchthefuck1 · 1 month
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In case anyone else has the brain worm that makes them want exact details anytime people talk numbers, in Too Much Birthday the offer to buy Kendall out says that he has 12,904,663 shares of Waystar (worth ~2bil at $156/share), so assuming he didn't sell any stock after that and also that Shiv and Roman all had an equal stake, which the show implies, that means that when they sell the company at $192/share in the finale, each of the siblings gets just under $2.5 billion, half of it in Gojo stock, not counting whatever they inherit from Logan.
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thatswhatsushesaid · 2 months
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the fool 🤝 jin guangyao being easily the most dynamic and compelling characters in their respective canons, likely for reasons that were substantially if not entirely unintentional on the part of their respective authors
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scorndotexe · 11 months
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i know nothing about the anime in question but i think it's insane to have an opinion on an author's works based on the anime boy version of the author
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hey genloss is bad.
#sorry. i deserve to be a little bit of a hater.#ranboo 'i didnt cut any corners' beloved#girl you could have used all that money you spent on a production team to hire game devs.#why are you basing the entire thing on video game tropes and aesthetics when you could have just made a fucking game#and it wojld bave been decent#instead its just two guys awkwardly standing around in rooms for way too long#like. my guy. just make a fucking video game. youre not a good enough actor to pull this off#'i didnt cut corners' 'there will be little to no filler' BULLSHITTTTTTT. im calling bullshit#'i dont want this to just be put on a shelf with other horror short films' BROTHER YOURE NOT EVEN IN THE SAME GENRE#to reiterate something i said to aster earlier:#i would have genuinely liked this better if i had not seen any promotional material.#which is. the exact opposite of what promotional material is supposed to do#shrug emoji. my stance stays the same. genloss is bad and does not deserve the hype its getting.#go pay attention to horror creators that are actually good.#turning off reblogs becayse i know how the mcyt fandom is (ESPECIALLY on ranboos side of it) and i dont want to get death threats <3#but i genuinely have not made a hater post in so long so i think i deserve this#also this is something im passionate about.#and i feel like its being mocked and that makes me mad <3 sorry. i really wanted to like it#obligatory tag to say if you like genloss good for you youre allowed to i genuinely do not care#this is just my opinion as someone who has been rlly passionate about horror media for a long time#reaction time
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ervans · 5 months
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Care for You (Mizu x F!reader)
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warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, and violence, soft sex, fingering (r! receiving)
a/n: wow. it's been a minute since i've truly sat down and wrote something. i'm absolutely obsessed with BES and mizu, i haven't felt so passionate about something since TLOU. this is my adaptation of what seems to be the most cliche scenario in this fandom so far: reader finding an injured mizu. i'm a bit rusty when it comes to writing so any and all feedback is welcome and appreciated, follows and notes as well. i have more ideas for works surrounding mizu (including a brothel fic muahahaha) so keep your eyes peeled for my posts :))
The sound of your sandals shuffling against the ground and your heavy pants were the only noises that pierced the otherwise quiet night. The moon, stars, and faint glow of your home in the distance were your only source of light as you trekked up the hill where the soft orange hue was coming from. The walk up this specific hill usually caused you no trouble, having done it dozens of times; however, this time was a tad bit different. Why? The limp, unconscious body that was currently draped over your shoulder.
Earlier in the evening you had heard a commotion down at the lake below the hill your home rested on. It was normal for stragglers, crooks, and opium addicts to travel through this part of Japan and mixing those groups of people usually ended up in some sort of fight. You had paid no mind to the noise, continuing with your cleaning. It wasn’t until you realized you needed more water for your tea that you made your way down the hill. As you reached the shore and saw the mess in front of you your stomach lurched.
Four bodies laid lifeless in front of you on the sand. From what you could tell they all had various stab and slash wounds across their bodies. Fifteen feet away from the tattered bodies lay another smaller one clad in baggy black trousers and stockings, a dark blue haori, and white scarf around his neck with a brown straw hat, round glasses with an orange tinted lens, and a sword, the telltale sign of a samurai on the ground beside him.
 From where you stood you could see his chest still moving as he tried to shallowly breathe in oxygen from the air surrounding his struggling body. That brings you to where you are now, struggling up a damn hill trying to save this unknown samurai’s life. Was he responsible for the four bodies you had pushed into the lake? It didn’t matter to you; you weren’t one to judge in a world where it was kill or be killed.
You push the door to your house open and lay the injured stranger onto your mat near the fire. You start to boil water to disinfect whatever wounds he had and open a drawer to grab a needle and thread just in case stitches were needed. They very much were. You quickly realized the source of what seemed like never-ending blood on the top half of his body as you stripped the bloodstained clothing away. A gash about 4 inches long and deeper than you’d like it to be starting towards the base of his ribcage, skin around it starting to turn a yellowish color. It almost distracted you from the way the stranger was wearing chest wraps. Almost.
You frowned looking down at the shallow breathing of the samurai’s chest. Why would he need chest wraps? You thought, fingers brushing over the once white cloth now stained. Unless? You slowly started to undo the bindings, telling yourself you needed to anyways to properly clean the wound. As the cloth unraveled in your hands your small suspicion was confirmed. Two small breasts sat atop the chest of the slender samurai that laid before you, nipples hardening as they became exposed to the air. Your eyebrows raised, head tilting slightly to the side. A female samurai? How? Questions began to fill your mind as you started to clean the wound, gently washing it with the now hot water. It was unheard of for a woman to even touch a sword as it was said to make the blade impure. Where had this woman gotten her sword? Who did she get taught by? Clearly from the mess on the beach she knew her way around a fight.
You finished cleaning and stitching the larger wound and got to work on disinfecting the smaller cuts and scrapes on the upper half of her body. Once you were satisfied with your work, you began removing the woman’s trousers and stockings, revealing another deep gash running from the top of her knee down to her shin. Sighing you started the same process as her chest and prepared yourself for the unknown amount of time you would be caring for this mysterious female samurai.
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It took three days for the samurai to fully regain her consciousness. In those days you had changed the dressings on her wounds, forced broth and water down her throat for some form of sustenance, and carefully studied her whenever you found the chance to. You noticed small things others would easily miss. The way her face seemed like it was always in a permanent frown, her subtly toned muscles from what had to be from years of training, how her calloused hands would twitch in her sleep, stress being the cause of it you had concluded after watching her for a good hour whilst you sipped on your tea, and how insanely handsome she was. Wait what? Handsome? That thought scared you so much that you had refused to watch her for the remainder of the evening besides checking her wounds thoroughly before you went to bed. But you couldn’t ignore those thoughts that plagued your head as your touch lingered for more time than it should’ve.
You were sat cross-legged waiting for your tea to steep when you heard a thud from behind you. Quickly turning around to find what the source of the noise was, you were met with the samurai staring back at you, blue eyes shining in the dimly lit space. And oh, were they blue. You had never seen or known something could be as piercingly blue as the eyes that met yours.
“Who are you? Where am I?” The samurai demanded in a gravelly voice that sent a shiver up your spine. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer right away, mouth slightly agape with shock at the stranger who had, just minutes ago, been passed out. “I asked you a question, now answer it.” She said sternly after a beat of silence between the two of you.
You blinked, raising an eyebrow and rising to your feet. “Well that’s no way to talk to someone who saved your life now is it?”
The woman, stern frown never leaving her features, quickly looked around the room taking in her surroundings. She then looked down at herself, usual blue haori missing and replaced with a softer red one. You hadn’t wanted to leave her bare in the middle of your home and opted to dress her in one of yours while you worked on scrubbing the stains out of hers.
You saw her tentatively try to move, and the flash of pain the appeared on her face for just a second didn’t go unnoticed by you. She pursed her lips and looked back up at you. “Thank you for stitching me up, but I would rather not stay a hostage here any longer. I have more important places to be.”
Your eyes widen and you scoff. “Hostage? Are you fucking serious? By all means you can leave, makes my life ten times easier if you do.” You were lying, you quite enjoyed caring for the handsome samurai, but you would never admit that to her. At least not now. “Good luck walking on that knee by the way, I’m sure it won’t be any trouble for you though.”
You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall as the blue-eyed woman looked you up and down once more before attempting to get up. After a few minutes she was standing, hand against the top of the fireplace to keep her from falling over. You could see her chest rising and falling quickly from the struggle of just standing. She looked back over at you, still leaning with your arms crossed. “Where are my belongings?”
“On the table to your right.” You responded, eyes never leaving hers. You watched her glance over to the table. It was about five feet away; it should’ve been no problem for her to walk over and grab her things. Should’ve. It took her almost ten minutes to reach the edge of the table, her injured leg making it difficult to have a full range of motion. She opted to shuffle inch by inch over to the edge. By the time she got there she was out of breath, looking down at her hands placed on the wood in front of her. You hadn’t moved at all, the only change being your expression shifting from annoyance to amusement as you watched the fit samurai struggle.
After a moment she let out a shaky breath. You saw her knuckles tighten as if she was having an internal battle with herself. “Can you help me back to the mat?” She asked so quietly you almost missed it. You pushed yourself off the wall and walked over to where she stood, taking notice in the way her legs were shaking from lack of use over the past three days. She refused to look at you as you placed her arm over your shoulders and helped guide her back to the mat on the floor. “Thank you.” She muttered.
You looked at her, worry spreading across your features. “Of course. I’m here for anything you need. Consider me your personal caretaker.” You joked. “Although, a good caretaker should know her patients name.” Your words hung in the air for a moment before she responded.
“Mizu.”
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It had been three weeks since Mizu had introduced herself to you. She didn’t talk much about her personal life, which you respected, instead filling the silence between the two of you with your own stories from your childhood. In that time her leg wound had been healing considerably quick, mostly due to the bedrest you ordered her to stay on. The only time she was allowed to move her legs was when she needed to relieve herself or when you would do small stretches with her to keep her blood flow moving. After some time, she was able to get up and walk for short periods of time on her own. The only problem with her quick recovery in her leg was the fact that her chest wound had hardly any progress to it.
Since Mizu couldn’t walk for some time, she exerted all her energy to her upper half, much to your dismay. She would sit up on the mat doing stretches on her arms and shoulders, sometimes raising them so far up you were afraid a stitch was going to pop. It did.
Mizu had been practicing arm movements with her sword, stating that “If I want to achieve my goals, my skills must always be honed and sharp.” Bullshit you thought. She just wanted to aggravate you. How could you tell? The small smirk that would grace her lips whenever she went to pick up her sword, even after you told her it was dangerous, and she could hurt herself anymore. Alas, she was a stubborn woman and it’s how you ended up rushing inside from chopping wood after hearing a sharp yelp from inside your home.
She sat on her mat, one hand clutching the spot above her wound while the other reached for the needle and thread you always kept close by. Once you realized she was going to try to stitch herself back up you rushed over to snatch the needle from her hands and straddle her lap, careful of the wound on her knee. She looked startled for a moment before her whole face turned a deep shade of red once she realized the position you both were in. You had a faint blush as well as you plucked the thread from her hand as well.
“I’m not letting you stitch yourself. You’re going to make your injury worse.” You said looking down at her. She looked up at you with those damn blue eyes you could get lost in for ages, cheeks still red but an amused expression on her face.
“You don’t think I know how to stitch myself up?”
You laughed awkwardly. “Well, no. I just…you just…you just popped a stitch by doing something I told you not to do! How can I be sure you’ll do it correctly?!” Mizu laughed. A sound so beautiful you were sure it would play through your mind for months to come. “I guess you have a point. C’mon then doc, fix me up.” She smirked. You felt your face grow even hotter.
Still straddling her you pushed her robe off her shoulders revealing her chest wraps with blood from the reopened wound soaking through them. You gulped. To stitch her back up you’d have to remove her bindings. And this time she was awake. And would definitely take notice in the way your eyes would roam her chest. Sensing your hesitation, she smiled looking up at you. “What? It’s not like you haven’t seen them before, obviously you have, or I wouldn’t have stitches here.” She was teasing you, you realized. “Here I’ll make it easier for you.” Her hand reached around to begin to undo her wraps. You sat there dumbfounded as they fell to the floor and her breasts were exposed to you once again.
“You just gonna stare sweetheart or are you gonna patch me up?” Mizu’s teasing question broke you out of your trance as you swallowed thickly and got to work on restitching her wound. You felt her piercing gaze on you the entire time and did your best to try and ignore the warm feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Later that night after the excitement of the day you sat sipping on your tea while Mizu slept next to the fire. You couldn’t stop thinking about her. Those beautiful blue eyes, the way her lips turned up into a smirk whenever it seemed you were flustered, and the sound of her laugh plagued you. You hadn’t felt like this in a long time.
Suddenly Mizu woke with a gasp, shooting up from the mat. You turned to her startled as you took in her appearance. Eyes wide with fear, chest heaving up and down, and her hands gripping tightly onto her blanket. “Nightmare?” You asked softly as to not startle her even more than she was. She just nodded as she looked at you, eyes bright in the darkness.
You softly rose to your feet, padded over to where was sat up, and sat down next to her. Her eyes had never left your figure as you made your way to her. You looked down at the blanket, then back up to her asking a silent question.
Slowly she lifted the blanket up and laid back down, giving you room to scoot in next to her. You wrapped your arms around her and brought her closer to your chest in the most intimate position the both of you had ever been in. You had never slept as well as you did that night.
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It had been four days since Mizu’s nightmare, and every night since then you two had slept together, arms wrapped around each other. The dynamic between you had changed drastically, lingering touches and glances to each other becoming a new normal.
Tonight was no different to the past few. You lay facing Mizu while her back was turned to the fire, tracing circles into her rough and calloused hands. The silence was comfortable, but you chose to break it in that moment.
“When do you think you’ll leave?” A flash of hurt ran across Mizu’s face.
“I can leave whenever you want me to, I think I’m healed enough by now. Would you like me to leave tomorrow?” Your heart clenched at the sadness in her voice. You didn’t want that at all.
“No,” you whispered. “I don’t want you to leave me. Ever.” Her eyes softened, moving closer to you she brushed her nose against yours.
“Then I won’t.”
Your lips met her soft ones in a searing kiss, one that knocked the air right out of your lungs. You let out at soft noise as she titled her head, running her tongue across your bottom lip to deepen the kiss and ask for permission to enter. You parted your mouth for her, tongues running against each other as she rolled on top of you, straddling your hips. Her fingers ran down your sides and under your top, tips of them brushing the underside of your breasts as you pushed your chest up into her, silently asking for more.
She pulled away from the kiss, a trail of spit the only thing keeping you connected, and smiled. “I’m going to need you to tell me you want more. Tell me you want it and I’ll stay.”
You moaned at her words. “Yes! Mizu please I want it, I need you.” She leaned down to kiss you once those words left your lips, fingers moving up to circle and pinch your hardened nipples. You let out a gasp into Mizu’s mouth at the sensation and she smiled into you, moving her head to trail kisses down your face to your neck, sucking a purple mark just below your ear.
You raised your arms over your head as she stripped you of your top, eyes lingering on your now bare breasts. “Beautiful.” Was all she said. You let out a whimper at her words. She kissed down your shoulders to your breasts and licked a long stripe up your nipple, the sensation causing you to moan and buck your hips up into hers. As she continued her assault on your breasts, her hand traveled lower down your stomach and slipped her hand into your trousers to run a finger through your slick folds.
You were a moaning, withering mess below her at this point. Between her mouth on your tits and her finger slowly brushing against your clit, you weren’t sure how much more you could take. “Please Mizu. I need you, please.” You begged, grinding your hips up into her hand hoping she got the message. She did. Slowly she pushed her middle finger into your wet heat, savoring the noise that left your lips as she did. Experimentally she curled her finger, finding that spongy spot at the front of your walls.
It wasn’t enough for you. “More, I need more.” You whimpered. Smiling against your breast, she pushed another finger in, thrusting at a quicker pace. You were close, she could tell by the way your pussy clenched around her digits. You just needed one last thing to push you over the edge. Removing her mouth from your nipple, she brought her forehead against yours admiring the way your mouth was slightly agape and the furrow between your brows.
“Open your eyes. You’re to look at me when you cum.”
At her words and her thumb suddenly circling your clit matching the pace at which she thrust, your eyes shot open meeting her icy blue ones, the last thread keeping you from falling snapping.
“‘m gonna cum Mizu, fuck m’ gonna fuckfuck-“ You were sent over the edge, cunt clenching and gushing around her fingers while your back arched off the mat, eyes never leaving hers as she guided and talked you through it.
As you caught your breath, chest heaving, she peppered soft kisses all over your face causing you to giggle breathlessly. She smiled down at you as you looked up at her still panting. “Give me a second, let me return the favor.” She leaned down capturing your lips once again as she removed her fingers from your core, wiping the slick on her pants and rolling to lay next to you. She pulled you into her chest and nuzzled her nose into your hair.
“You’ve taken care of me these last few weeks, let me take care of you. We have all the time in the world, I promise I’m not going anywhere.”
And Mizu always kept her promises.
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cuervitodeisla · 1 year
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Also if you’re someone who likes the punk look, the battle vests and all the patches, but don’t know what the traditional symbols and messages mean, just don’t use them. Punk has always been politically charged. If you just want the look, you can always make your own patches about whatever you want or support artists who make them. Cool animal patches, plants, daggers, or just any other imagery that looks good goes.
Idk but if you don’t know what something means,especially when it comes to symbols it’s best to not use them or research them. In the punk and hardcore scene it’s hard to tell who is simply ignorant, and who’s a legit nazi punk/white supremacist who deserves a beating. That’s an extreme example that’s is still relevant, especially now with the current political climate.
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evergreenfields · 17 days
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A Helping Hand
Captain Price uses his deft fingers to help you take out your menstrual cup.
Pairing: Captain Price x Female Reader
CW: descriptions of female anatomy, digital penetration, fluff, swearing. MDNI.
Words: 2.7k
You didn't mean to swear so loudly in the toilet cubicle but you were sweating, your hands were hurting and your thighs were burning.
You could not, for the life of you, take out your menstrual cup.
After a gruelling CQC training session, your hands were cramped and now slick with blood. You surprised yourself at how far you could fit your fingers inside yourself without even reaching the inch long handle of the cup.
"Sergeant?" A gruff voice called through the door.
"Fuck." you whisper, "yes sir?" You call back, sitting back down on the toilet in defeat, staring at the tiled floor.
"Everything alright in there?" Captain Price is closer to the door now. Of all the people! You thought of him in his far-too-fitted top tucked into his far-too-snug combat trousers, all pressed and neat. Earlier in the day he had patted your shoulder for a job well done and you hated how you could still feel his eyes on you after you walked away.
“Yes captain, all good here." Ending it abruptly, you wait for him to leave.
Getting back into a squat position, you try again. You swear again.
Another knock at the door.
"Sergeant. Do I need to call someone for you?" Concern laced his gruff voice.
Something in you falters. You think it's stupidity, you think it's the opposite of courage, you consider it vulnerability. Either way, your mouth and mind move in different directions as you pull your trousers up, wash your hands and walk the short way to the door.
“Have you seen a period cup before?" you say quietly through a small gap in the doorway, looking past your Captain at passers by, looking anywhere but at his deep-set blue eyes.
He looks at you with knitted brows and answers "no. But I'm guessing it's not coming out." He enunciated ‘out’ with his trademark back stretch.
"Precisely." You get redder and try to quell it. He knocked, he asked, maybe someone else could help me, a female medic, but the thought of gloved hands felt clinical and made you tense. The pause was palpable.
"Right, let's get you to your quarters," he steps back from the door, straight as a board, and you slip out past his hulking frame.
Filling what you thought was an awkward silence you said you had training with Simon and “it's not usually this difficult, usually it pops out easily." Accidentally making eye contact on the “pop.”
"Right." Price says and you think you saw him swallow a smile. You arrive at your quarters and open the door.
"A nurse once told me I had a high cervix, so who knows where it's gone." You turn to close the door behind Price and you're surprised to see him chuckling, the movement in his broad shoulders and the crows feet around his eyes make you feel a way you know you shouldn't.
"Give it another go, I'll get a tea brewing," he strides past you into your tiny kitchen, knocking around your cupboards for teabags.
You avoid your gaze in the bathroom mirror as you wash your hands again and pull your trousers down, rooting around for the damned silicone cup. You were naturally more dilated as you were on your period, but pushing down with your pelvic floor muscles still didn’t get it within reach of your fingers.
You can hear the kettle going, you imagine him leaning against the counter, muscled legs crossed at his calves, calloused hands on the fake marble top.
John asks himself unanswerable questions, the exact kind of questions he hates. Why am I here? He has an inkling of the answer but it’s not absolute. He can’t deny you’re electric, an excellent squad mate and charming to boot. The chemistry is palpable between you and he knows exactly what he’s doing when he banters with you at post-mission briefings and winks at you when handing you a drink at the pub. He indulges in the flashes of recognition when he sees you around base, especially when you’re in civilian clothing.
Minutes later you're back in your kitchen, which Price manages to dwarf.
"No luck?" He says as he passes you the steaming cup, handle first. How polite.
"No luck.”
“No problem." Price says in his husky voice, taking a seat on your small sofa. He's taken his hat off, he's basically naked now. You join him on the furthest end, you're both turned half towards each other, your crossed legs are mighty close to touching his.
"Sorry, this is really awkward."
“Nothing awkward, relax yeh." He sips his tea.
"You make a shit tea." You say absolutely unprompted, staring into your cup seriously.
Price doesn't respond and you look up expectedly.
“Funny that, I couldn't find a good cup." He says with his usual dry gruff.
A beat.
You both burst into laughter, almost spilling your tea. You end up having to put it onto the table, calling him a prick in the process.
"Fuck sakes sir!"
"I had to." He continues drinking his tea, too cool for school as you settle yourself.
You decide to regale him as a way to fill the silence again, "so the cup has a stick at the end but I can't grip it, I can barely reach it. It's silicone and around an inch long." you instinctively measure it out with your thumb and index finger.
"Right."
He's killing you. You remember he's a gentleman, a professional, helping you feel more relaxed and less tense.
“It’s more than just grabbing and pulling it though-”
"So I'm going to have to break the suction first." He finally says, a mercy.
You did a double take and accidentally looked at his gloved hand. It hangs over his knee. You know they are heavily veined and strong, you want to evaporate at the thought of them touching you in such an intimate place.
"It doesn't take much.” You say dry mouthed.
"I can get someone else." Is quickly followed by you breathing "I'd rather you didn't."
Next thing you know, you're standing in your shower with only a towel wrapped around your lower half. Your captain was seated on the rim of the bathtub. It was as if you had a tipple of whiskey instead of tea, you felt drunk, giddy, nervous. There was an undeniable pulse in your clit you were trying to ignore. Price thoroughly washes his hands and you make an effort to not watch his sinewy forearms flexing.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna be laying down?” Price asks earnestly.
“No it would feel too clinical. And we need gravity on our side.” You say absentmindedly, he nods an affirmative.
“Understood.“
"I'm going to look like Winnie the fucking Pooh.” You sigh.
"Ey?" blue eyes flicker at your eyes.
"He doesn't wear any trousers. He just wears a top."
"Stop being a muppet." He dries his hands.
“Okay so you'll have to use a thumb and finger." You say, feeling flushed as you place your feet further apart, they were wet with the residual water from your shower earlier in the day.
"I’ll be gentle." He puts the hand towel under your feet for grip. You almost place your hand on his shoulder to balance yourself but you're too afraid to let go of the towel.
"Better?" He asks. You nod. His back straightens, he's in serious mode, “if it hurts at any point, say and I'II stop immediately." And he waits for your affirmative and more disgustingly, your eye contact.
"Yes sir. I will.” You nod, blink and then look away.
A pause. Silence.
You're still holding the towel over yourself. You feel like a lost lamb and you even start to hate yourself for feeling so shy. You wonder how Price is so calm and collected, you’re trying to see from his perspective but you can’t fathom how he’s so blase and annoyingly professional.
In a measured movement you remove the towel and swing it over the curtain rail. Everything feels red, you feel a flash of anger at yourself for existing. You look up past him. Blood rushes to your face and ears. Cool air hits your legs and butt. John carries on with acute focus, mentally noting you had incredible legs. He wished he was still wearing his hat so you couldn’t see the sweat bead on his forehead.
“Put your hands on my shoulders." He says, “and relax." He drawls, admittedly more to himself. “Alright I'm going to make-"
"Don't say make entry, for fuck sakes." Your voice sounds distant with the acoustics of the tiled bathroom.
"I was going to say make contact, sergeant." His tone is clipped but his eyes smile. You sheepishly look away.
“I’ve tried a few times, it’s quite… elastic, so don’t be worried if you go past the knuckles.” You chew your lips.
“I’ll be gentle.” He reiterates. You assume he knows his way around things, a fleeting thought of him with other women floats through your mind.
John knew you trusted him which is why he was here. He was very aware of what he was helping with and felt it was beyond his duty of care, kind of like how he has to decide who lives and who dies when they’re attached to a bomb vest with 8 seconds left. It was discretionary. He put it out of his mind and considered this a ‘removal of foreign body’. But with no need to staunch the bleeding. And no need to report it in the injuries log. The only thing he was staunching were any feelings towards you. Tucking them deep away like a professional, or like a pressure cooker. There was a reason he was the captain, he was measured and controlled.
With the softest touch, you feel his index finger and middle finger part your folds and fall into the valley of your hole. His fingers deftly dodged your hardened clit and he slipped in gently until he’s fully inside of you. His finger runs along your gummy walls, they are much thicker than your own digits. You scrunch your eyebrows. He’s warm and tentative. Your face is flushed red, but not entirely from embarrassment, it’s that familiar feeling you get when you’re filled. Heat rises from you. Your breathing is shallow and quick.
His left hand leaves the tub edge and holds your calf softly. You feel safety in his touch, you feel like he's entering with trepidation. You've fought on battlefields together, traversed through tight streets in war torn villages and travelled for days in cramped trucks, you trusted him with your life and by extension your body. It was as if it was all to culminate in your bathroom. You find yourself wishing you had just asked him for a coffee a week ago when you weren't on your period.
"Is that okay? Ready for the-"
"Yes sir." He pushes his thumb in gently too. You feel it breach your cunt and against your spongy walls. You can’t tell but John’s heart is hammering against his chest, but it doesn’t betray his breathing.
"You don't have to call me sir.” He mumbles.
"Yes sir.” You hold his broad shoulders and lean over him, looking straight ahead at the cheap wooden door. His fingers gently move up into you, he’s warm and you’re hot, you try to stay still and not squeeze your walls around his fingers.
You hear his breathing, it’s even. You want to look down at his lap but your line of sight is obscured by his arm, you know what you want to see and you swallow. His fingers move, you can feel the pressure but you can only guess at the direction. You feel the large knuckle of his thumb press against your innermost folds. His ring and little finger push into the underside of your butt cheek, you realise you did the same thing to yourself when you were trying earlier. There was no where else those fingers could go without being in the way.
John tries to ignore how your body feels around his fingers and focuses on pushing in with the least resistance, he has big hands so there was no doubt he’d be able to find it but he didn’t want to hurt you. Sweat forms along the back of his neck. Steady now.
"Try to relax. I know this isn’t ideal, I'll go slowly" He says, you can smell his cologne, his musk, you hold your breath but he feels that too.
"Breathe and bear down." You daren't comment about how he knows about "bearing down" but you push down with your pelvic muscles.
"I’ve got it, gonna go further to grip it." You dare to look at his face and you're surprised to see he's not looking at your mound, he's staring at your rucked up top, just above your belly button; he's concentrating. He looks adorable, mouth a little open.
"It’s a slippery bastard." He chuckles and then reels the laugh in.
"I'm so sorry about the blood." You whisper above him. He just grunts.
"Nothing we haven't dealt with before, ey?" His eyes crinkle into a smile. “Can I go further?" He says, you look at each other and you nod. You feel pressure and friction, you try to breathe and it comes shakily. You clear your throat.
"It's not hurting is it?" He stops.
"No, it doesn't hurt, it's just this entire situation-"
"Look, I know you'd do the same for me." He meets your eyes and you snort, trying not to laugh. You instead lean your forehead down to the top of his head for a moment, he can see your stomach move and your breathing change as you laugh silently. It’s strangely intimate.
John swallows.
"I got it." You feel pressure push upwards into you and then the suction disappears. With a pull and a slick pop, the cup comes out. Your body feels doubly empty. Price holds it steady with one hand, he marvels at the amount and viscosity of the blood. He then brings his other hand up to cradle it. You add both your hands around his to stop it spilling.
"Y'alright?" He carefully lets go of the cup. His left hand is on your arm, his intense blue eyes boring into yours for what feels like way too long.
"Yes." You smile.
"Right, I'II let you get that sorted.” He smiles, squeezes your arm and turns to use the faucet.
With his broad back turned, you look down at your naked lower body and bloody chalice. You see that he doesn't turn to look back at you. Such a gentleman. You cheers him silently with the cup and get to sorting yourself out.
When John leaves the room, he exhales hard. Needing something to do, he immediately walks into your kitchen. He hates that he’s clammy and not from exertion. He pushes your warmth and wetness from his mind, but he knows he’ll be summoning the memory soon, when he’s alone.
When you step out of the shower, you're in a daze. You don't know what to say when you get dressed and return to your living room. Thanks and sorry? Sorry and sorry? Let's never speak of this, but can we talk about your unwavering eye contact and those touches? You pull on your knickers and cargo trousers and wrestle with a sanitary pad.
You return to see him washing the tea cups, his gloves tucked into his back pocket, his narrow waist fanning into a broad back.
You jog into the kitchen and grab the tea towel he's hung over his shoulder.
“I got it - thank you,” you say, quickly adding “John.” As if to point out the power dynamic was left at the door. You dry the cups. You feel longing, you don't know what possesses you, you didn't want those fleeting touches, gentle words of affirmation and smouldering eye contact to evaporate into nothing. Like they usually do.
“Don’t mention it.” He says, heading for the door.
“Not even to my girl friends?” You snap back, shrugging the tea towel over your shoulder.
“Wind your neck in!” He laughs loudly from the chest.
“Consider it wound in, sir.”
“The lengths you go for my attention.” He retorts with his trademark grin, turning to face you with his hand on the door handle.
“The lengths are apparently 3 or 4 inches, sir, give or take.” You laugh back knowingly.
John pauses.
“Between us, that’s only the half of it.” He says with a wink. And with that, he leaves. Your laugh gets caught in your throat, you’re left with a feeling your next one-to-one with your captain would be a little different moving forward.
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easy-there-leftovers · 7 months
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I See You, Darling
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[Astarion x reader] The idea never left my mind, and I so very badly need this right now. Heavily inspired by this cutscene where Tav chooses a dialogue option and Astarion's eyes just deviate-- (gif above, just wait for his eyes to look at you WKDKWKDK) |Word count: 2k.| Based off of this post I made.
Part 2 here!!
Also, this is more heavy on the world building rather than dialogue. If I end up making this a series, I might write with more dialogue in mind but it was just necessary to do this first afhjaqfbnjkafbnebn--
A story in which an overworked art student longs for a fictional character that they've devoted so much of their time to.
Alternatively; Astarion realizes there's someone else watching him. And he can't wait to get acquainted with them.
————━─━────༺༻────━─━————
One.
Two.
Three.
It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 
You’ll admit, perhaps you were simply tired. Attending a prestigious school for the arts doesn’t exactly leave you with much free time to indulge in more calming forms of recreation. Your course requires you to consume a wide array of media to expand your library of creativity, after all. All in the name of generating more interesting media to entrance and enthrall your audience with your original work. 
Maybe all the moving pictures and swimming texts have caused you to greatly misunderstand what you are seeing. Surely, your favorite character isn’t looking directly at you, right?
Right?
But before that, let’s review what might have happened earlier to explain just what exactly in gods name is happening.
Shall we?
——
You purchased the game a few months back. “Baldur’s Gate 3.” A game that took the players and immersed them in the world of Dungeons & Dragons, introducing them to the mechanics of tabletop RPG as they did. It seemed interesting enough. And if the concept of character creation and storytelling didn’t sell you on the idea of it, the pretty faces on the cover certainly did.
So, with the little money you could spare from your part time job at your own institution’s library, and with what little sanity you had left to argue with, you impulsively bought said game. And it was fun. Exhilarating. Electrifying. 
Until you ran into a problem.
Astarion. The rogue, elven vampire that you have chosen to romance after careful deliberation. You scoffed to yourself. He was one of the biggest reasons why you purchased the blasted game at all. You’ve carefully studied the character in all his glory, from his striking carmine eyes and delicate unstained curls, to his aptitude for bloodshed and all manners of gore. He was such an interesting character, giving you more and more reason to pursue him as the story progressed. Yet the same can’t be said about your relationship with him. Or at least your “Tav’s” relationship with him. 
You’ve had some difficulty in deepening your relationship with the ex-magistrate. It seemed as if no matter what options you chose, no matter what manner of advances you made, he’d be quick to dismiss you. Painting you as a desperate little pup as he did. Denying you the opportunity of further knowing him. You’ve created and overwritten more save slots than you'd like to admit, perusing each one to select different lines of dialogue only to be rejected time and time again.
You thought it strange. But perhaps this was simply the way his route was meant to unfold. He was such an incredibly complex character after all. Perhaps this was meant to prove the party’s loyalty. 
But that didn’t stop you from being frustrated with other aspects of the gameplay. You've spent countless nights hunched on your work chair, back curving like a dead bug as you analyzed each and every possible outcome in combat. Eyes, bloodshot from cutting your sleeping hours short, just to endure the story until you were at an appropriate place to log out. And hair, flicking and curling out in different directions due to you weaving your hands through them in exasperation. 
You saw your reflection on your screen as it darkened to load the next scene and you couldn't help but stare at your character in slight envy. You know full well that however you designed them, it wouldn’t affect how the others perceived you, and yet you couldn’t help but pretty them up for your own interest. You designed it with yourself in mind, but making them far more attractive than you would ever be. Effortlessly beautiful as they stirred to wake up in the forest you settled in for camp.
How could Astarion ever turn this beautiful being away? If not for their heroism, then surely their looks would be enough to draw him in, no?
And speak of the devil. Once you could control your character again, you readied them to interact with your sharply dressed companion. Wanting to try your luck once more as the bright sun shone upon your character like a promise of a new day. Unfortunately, you’re greeted with a look of boredom, oh so familiar, that you sigh. “I hope you’re not here to beg—” Mocking him, echoing the words you’ve come to expect with faux mirth in your voice. But you cut yourself short when you realize he has yet to say anything. 
Strange.
 What’s even stranger is that he's just staring at you. Well,--- he’s staring at Tav. Your character.
“What the fuck…?” You move your mouse around, clicking to try and toggle the dialogue options to no avail, screen stuck in a cinematic close up of his face. Much like how the camera always pans when awaiting your response. 
However, unlike the common script of his actions that you’re used to, the one that you’ve memorized like a well practiced dance, his eyes smoothly glide off of your character and onto you. 
You freeze, but your heart doesn’t. The beating of your chest growing stronger the longer he looks at you. Eyes, blood red like rubies, boring into your own. He regards you, blinks, and then smiles that deviously charming smile of his before your screen turns dark. Your computer turns off, and you stare in shock of what just happened.
‘No fucking way, no fucking way, no fucking way—‘ You’re not delusional, right? Sure, you’re tired, but no fucking way did you just imagine one of the hottest characters you’ve seen in a while break the fourth wall just to fuck with you.
You laugh to yourself.
Yes, you’re just tired. Nothing like a good four hours of sleep can’t remedy. Although, as you get up from your chair, foolish as it may seem, you grab a used shirt from your floor, and hang it on your computer in the case that those piercing eyes come to life once again while you sleep.
——
You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you get ready for the day, you notice your dirtied clothing still on your computer. Covering it as if it were a petrifying doll from a horror movie. You feel childish for doing so, reasoning that you were simply stressed from the events that taken place prior and removed the cloth.
As you did, your screen was brought back to life. Showing you the next night as if your little "tryst" with Astarion never happened. An entire thirty minutes or so of progress seemingly gone. Thankfully, you saved just before your game went haywire and you attempted to load up your last slot. 
Zzzt Zzzzt!
Alas, your game was not cooperating once again. You tried the save just before that and the same error screen presented itself to you. ‘Maybe this is a sign that I should just fucking work instead.’ Irritated at the thought, you moved to log out of the game but a familiar voice convinces you otherwise as the screen returns to normal. 
“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” 
‘Is this— a romance scene?!’ Astarion had never initiated an interaction before! Perhaps the game gods were granting you mercy. Or maybe, something you did last night might have given way for this line of dialogue to open up. Regardless, you happily took the opportunity and began reading your choices.
“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” ━─━────༺༻────━─━
Well. Thank you.
It’s none of your concern, fangs.
Better now that you’re here.
What happened last night?
━─━────༺༻────━─━
What…did happen last night? You don’t recall anything past the blackening of your screen, but it looks like you did something after that which caused this dialogue.
You don’t want to squander this opportunity, who knows when this will happen again, but your curiosity gets the best of you. So you save, and choose option 4. 
“Oh, you poor thing. Spooked you, did I?” He laughs, seemingly taking in the look of confusion that graces both yours and Tav’s face.
“What do you think happened last night?”
“My fucking game crashed.” You answer automatically.
Tav moves to open their mouth but is silenced with a tut. “Not you, spawn.” His eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement, but the way his mouth is pulled in a tightly-lipped smile offers you further insight otherwise. 
“I need your answer.” His eyes are on you yet again, and you feel the world begin to spin.
——
You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you plan to get ready for the day, you notice you’re not exactly in a state to do so. You expected to wake at dawn, the dark and cool air to greet you as it fills your room and envelops your walls. Instead, you wake to see an endless amount of evergreen and the smell of the dark and damp grass beneath you filling your senses.
And if spending hours, weeks, months, of playing this damned game has taught you anything, you know that you now reside in the heart of the forest that you usually set up camp in. But this time, you're far from your bedroll and the fire that your party created.
One.
Two.
Three.
It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far to no avail. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 
And this chill so does love playing games.
You clamber away on your knees when you hear that deep chuckle of his emanate from right beside your ear. Creating as much distance to inspect this figure you’ve yet to face.
You see Astarion in all his vampiric glory. ‘Well, for a vampire spawn, I guess.’ You comment to yourself. Crimson eyes, darker than you imagined, with full, dark lashes contrasting his pallid skin and pure hair that glow under the moonlight. An unsettling, and cursedly attractive, smirk curls onto his lips. His ivory fangs on full display as he does.
“It seems as if those useless artifacts were worth something.” He marvels at his handiwork, his prize, and approaches it with confidence. 
“Well, your character certainly is more ‘prettied up.’” He circles you, carefully appraising his newest asset, and grins. “But you are far more intriguing.”
A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster.
“Although, you are very cute. Cheeky little pup, aren’t you?” He jests.
A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster which earns you a click of his tongue in response.
“You’re not broken, are you? Or am I to anticipate your little ‘what the fuck?’s as your only contribution?” Long, and incredibly masculine, fingers crawl and curl to grasp your chin like a spider. 
“I’ve waited months to have you. And now here you are, finally within my grasp.” The statement causes something to stir within you.
“What do you mean, ‘months?” 
He narrows his eyes, possibly trying to comprehend your stupidity.
“I’ve been watching you. Waiting, for the right moment. Interacting with this– caricature of yourself until you could deny yourself of me no more.” Blood rushes to your head. Your cheeks burning in embarrassment for seeming overly eager. And in panic as his intentions have yet to be cleared.
“And now that I’m here? Do you want to kill me?” You feel your heartbeat in your ears, awaiting his response. Your eyes wide in fear, yet trying to fake heroic bravado in the attempts to gain the upperhand.
And in this moment, he thinks you absolutely invigorating.
“Oh no, sweet pet. I’ve waited far too long for that. I’m going to make you mine.”
————━─━────༺༻────━─━————
Should I make this into a series? "The adventures of a misplaced artist in Baldur's Gate!!" Or something like that. Let me know, lol
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anastasiabowe · 6 months
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I Lasted 10 Rounds Like A Freak..
Fic based off this post on tiktok (just because of the song)
I cried out, clawing at the bed sheets, trying to pull away from his relentless pounding.
"No more!" I sobbed, putting my hand on his lower belly, only for him to grab it and pin it behind your back.
"Quit runnin', you wanted this." He grunted, slamming harder into you.
"noo, please Mike, please, please, please! C-can't take anymore!" You ripped your hand from his grip and clinged onto the sheets who were holding onto the mattress for dear life.
In reality, you were enjoying this, but your delicate cunt can only handle so much. You were probably reaching your 10th round of endless positions. Mike had the stamina of a bull if he really was that pent up, which he was.
"Come on baby, just a few more. Please, you wanted this, I'm just giving you want you want. Please stop crying, I love you." He leaned over your arched frame, leaving kisses on your tear-stained cheek. You only cried, and tried to pull away from him, only for him to lean closer into you, not letting you move.
Yeah, Mike would admit, seeing you like this turned him on more than anything, but it also made him a bit worried for you.
He swore to himself he would never hurt you, and you are definitely making it seem like he was hurting you. But earlier when he had almost tapped out and said y'all should call it a night, you beggedhim to ruin you. You wanted him to rearrange his guys. You slammed your hips on him, and now you were switching up, which now you were far too gone to turn back.
You felt another orgasm approaching and you let out a scream.
"I can't! Please I can't!" You cried, again, trying to push him away to no avail.
Mike started groaning in your ear, he was getting close. He brought his fingers to your clit and started rubbing the sensitive bud. You spasmed and let out another scream as you came for the 100th time. Mike following in pursuit.
Once you calmed down, Mike flipped you over, still inside you, and slowly started grinding into you again.
"Oh, God. No!" You held onto Mike realizing it was going to be a long night.
The only thought left in your head, was what Mike said to you before this torture had actually started.
"Be careful of what you wish for."
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cameronspecial · 2 months
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Let Me Guess, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings:  N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.5K
Summary: Rafe knows that Y/N can easily change her mind about what she eats and he can plan for it easily.
A/N: This is inspired by this post.
Masterlist
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One of Y/N’s favourite things about Rafe is that he understands her inner workings perfectly and he is so considerate with her. He learned earlier on in their relationship that she can be indecisive about what she wants to eat or how hungry she really is. He thinks it might be a women's thing because his sisters are the exact same way. It’s why it didn’t take long to learn that fact about his girlfriend. “Angel. I’m going to get some sushi and ramen to eat. Do you want anything?” he offers, coming to lie down beside her on his bed. She looks up from her textbook with a shake of her head, “No. I ate lunch with Daisy before I came over.” Rafe tilts his head at her and raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You know I don’t mind getting you something, Angel,” he verifies. She nods her head, “Yep, I’m all full and ready to study.” “Okay. I’m gonna order my food and wait for it downstairs. Kelce needs to talk to me about something,” Rafe informs her, getting up from the bed with a kiss on her forehead and heading downstairs.
———
Around ten minutes later, Y/N’s stomach starts to rumble and her mouth starts to salivate at the thought of crispy karaage chicken and the tender ramen noodles. Her mind can no longer focus on the words she is reading as it becomes consumed by the need to eat. She hopes that Rafe hasn’t ordered the food yet even though he said that he would. Maybe Kelce distracted him so he forgot. “Rafe,” she calls to him. “Rafe.” This time a little louder so it garnishes a response. She hears his footsteps slap against the staircase, being able to recognize the way he walks after months of dating. Once she sees him at the front door, she gives him a sheepish smile, which she hides behind her book. “Is everything okay?” he worries and goes over to her side. He drops to a squat beside her. She gives him a hopeful look, “Did you order your food yet?” A massive grin grows on his face and he brushes her hair back with his fingers. “Let me guess, Angel. You want something to eat now.” She gives a small nod and her smile drops because based on his reaction, she assumes he already ordered it. If he didn’t, then he would’ve asked her what she wanted to get immediately. He confirms her suspicion. “I did,” he states with a small frown. “But I guess it’s a good thing that I already got you something to eat.”
She looks up at him with a grin, “You did? What did you get me?” Her voice is so soft that it warms Rafe’s heart. “I got you karaage chicken ramen and some of the sushi that you like,” he tells her. Excitement floods her and she wraps his arms around his neck. “Thank you. Thank you so much. You know me so well. That is exactly what I wanted,” she exclaims, pressing her lips all over his face. He chuckles at her reaction and kisses her lips, “You’re welcome, Angel. Why don’t you take a break from studying and wait with me downstairs? I think our food should be here soon.” With Rafe, Y/N’s every want and need will be anticipated by him. She’ll never have to worry about anything. 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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teddiesworldd · 1 month
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muffled moans and whiskey kisses.
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is it morally okay to fuck a customer? (2.4k words)
a\n: thank you for all the love on my first posts! i hope you love this one just as much! also, if it wasn't made clear, ghost is wearing a mask with a cut-out for his mouth. enjoy!
pairing: ghost x female waitress!reader
tags/warnings: nsfw mdni!!, just a regular ol' bathroom hookup with the biggest guy you've ever seen, porn with plot, hickeys, a little choking if you squint
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it was one of those shifts where the hours just dragged on and on. the day felt like it was never going to end as you wiped down another table and laid out the silverware neatly on top of a napkin. your mind wandered off somewhere else, but you snapped back to reality when you saw 4 huge guys walk through the pub doors and stroll over to the bar. one looked a little older than the others with a thick blonde moustache and cream bucket hat. two of them were a little shorter, a scruffy mohawk on one and the other with tanned skin covered by a blue jacket. however, it was the fella trailing behind them who made your hairs stand on end. he was absolutely giant. he was wearing a tight black t-shirt that showed off the thick, red scars which ran down his massive arms. and just to add to it, his whole face, except for his eyes and mouth, was covered by a worn-out skull mask. you realised you were staring when his dark eyes met yours and you shifted your glance back down to the table you were tending to. you could feel his eyes burning onto you as he walked past.
it was only when all 4 men were seated that you realised your colleague was still out the back and you'd have to go over and make their drinks for them yourself.
no biggie.
you make drinks for people all the time.
you desperately tried to calm your own nerves as you walked over to the bar, suddenly aware of how tight your clothes felt. the sweat on your palms. the loose hairs that had fallen from your ponytail and were now tickling your neck.
not people like this.
you were a confident person most of the time, but this skull-face guy was intimidating as hell. and the way he looked at you like a piece of meat earlier, like he wanted to eat you up. yikes. you pushed the little door open and walked behind the bar, smoothing down your waitressing apron and putting on your best customer-service smile.
"what can i get for you?"
the first three were relatively nice. the older chap was quite charming, really, making polite small talk and asking about your day. the guy with the mohawk tried cracking a few jokes which made you cringe a little but it was sweet regardless. and you noticed the military badge on the blue jacket of the third man, which made a lot of sense as the bar was right next to the military base. you had soldiers and the likes come in often, trying to drink away the stress of their day. but these guys were different. high-ranking, probably. after you had served the three, you moved down towards the fourth and asked the same question. it was only now that you realised how dark his eyes actually were. they were like dark pools of chocolate. like an empty street at night. and his pretty blonde lashes were like the stars. how could someone so big and scarred be pretty? you wondered.
"a whiskey, please."
his voice was so deep, and he had a bit of a manchester twang to his words. something about him, though frightening, was sort of attractive. the way the corners of his mouth turned up when he spoke to you. the way his huge hands rested on the bar, twiddling and fidgeting with his thick fingers and rings like he was nervous. the way he looked at you said otherwise. you wondered what those hands would feel like on you. in you. he didn't break eye contact with you the whole time he ordered, licking his lips with a sparkle in his eye. you poured the drink, then turned back to him and placed it in front of him. he thanked you and sipped it slowly.
the men stayed for a while, chatting about their recent missions and such, laughing and ordering more drinks. but the masked guy kept looking at you, sometimes at your face, sometimes at where your flesh spilled out over the buttons of your white shirt. he wasn't exactly trying to hide it either, the perv. you couldn't help but look at him too, shamelessly. he even caught you a few times looking at the way his muscles moved as he brought the glass up to his lips.
when he excused himself and walked over to the bathrooms, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, the tension between the two of you was almost suffocating. however, this was the complete opposite of a break from him.
he stood in front of the door like, well, like a ghost. his finger beckoning you to follow him. you questioned your life up to this point and scanned around the pub, it was pretty late on a weekday so it was completely empty except for the group at the bar. you put down the glass you were polishing, took off your apron and excused yourself to the three men who remained in front of you. luckily, none of them payed much attention, going straight back to their conversation.
you know what he wanted from you, of course, it wasn't like he was bringing you into the bathroom for a conversation. but still, a part of you just couldn't believe what was about to happen. he was probably a whole foot taller than you, and twice as wide.
he must be absolutely packing. he'd probably spilt me open.
you tried not to think about it.
you pushed the door quietly, your manicured nails tapping gently when they made contact. you barely even pushed the thing open before he was pulling you by the wrist into the nearest cubical, and locking the door behind him. he didn't say a word. he just pressed his lips to yours. the kiss got heated pretty quickly. you could taste the whiskey on his tongue. the way your mouths fitted together - it was like you were made for each other. it felt so perfect. so addictive.
he pulled away and moved his head into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking and leaving dark red marks across your collarbone. you couldn't help the moan that left your lips, earning a quiet "shhhh, lovie" between kisses. his voice was gorgeous. he soon reached your cleavage, planting bites and kisses all over. there was something so refreshing about him. most guys you'd been with didn't care about any of this stuff, they just wanted to be done as quickly as possible. not him, he took his time marking you, like you were something rare and precious. like you were something special. he moved his hand up to undo the buttons of your shirt, looking up at you with lust filled eyes.
"do you want this? hm? do you want me?" he growled.
you couldn't believe he was teasing you already. of course you did. "mhmm" you nodded frantically, trying to speed him up by undoing your buttons yourself, but he stopped you at the first one.
"ah ah, no. be patient, doll. tell me. tell me you want me." he asked nicely this time, waiting for your response.
"please," you whined out, a little more desperately as you intended, trying to retain a little bit of your dignity. you were still fully clothed, you didn't want to seem too needy. yet.
after hearing your response, he placed another kiss to your chest and started undoing the buttons. so slowly. it was like torture. you placed you small hand onto the back of his head, guiding him down, which he must of liked because it made him look up at you with the most devilish glint in his eye. oh, this man was about to ruin you. he hooked his fingers into the waist of your skirt, pulling it all the way off and stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans. what a gentleman, he didn't want your clothes getting all dirty on the floor of the men's bathroom. gross. after spending a second admiring your pretty lace panties and matching bra, he asked you, "you always wear underwear like this, love? what a little slut you are." something about the way he spoke to you made you absolutely wet. he looked gorgeous at this angle, knelt down in front of you, shoulders broad, inches away from your heat. part of you wanted to just pull his face into you, but he was definitely much stronger than you, so unfortunately you'd just have to wait it out.
he kissed the inside of your thighs, then over your clothed clit, making you beg for him again. then he pulled your underwear to the side, finally pressing his mouth to your soaked pussy. he felt amazing. he must be pretty experienced because he knew exactly how, when and where to make you whine and pant at every movement. the way his tongue swirled in little circles around your clit made your head spin. and the way he looked at you, never breaking eye contact, he was intoxicating. you knew if you made too much noise then his friends would definitely hear you - the walls were pretty thin. but it was so hard when he was sending you towards the edge so quickly. and when he pushed two of his thick fingers inside of you, you had to cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet. he curled it just right to hit the perfect spot inside you over and over. just his hand was stretching you out, and hitting spots that had never been hit by your own fingers. you knew you weren't going to last much longer at the brutal pace he was moving inside of you. you hooked your leg over his huge shoulder, and when he started sucking you could feel the knot in your stomach twisting. he knew this too and when you clenched around his fingers he pulled away, leaving you a panting, sweaty mess and depriving you of your orgasm.
"don't worry, doll. i'm not done with you yet," he said, standing up and turning you around so your chest was against the wall with your back to him. "want you to come on my cock, not on my fingers."
you could hear him undoing his belt and his cargo pants dropping to the floor behind you. he grabbed your hips and pulled your ass back towards him, lining you up nicely. you just knew it was going to be the biggest you'd ever taken. his tip prodded at your entrance, and he pushed slowly into you. he was huge. you hissed as he pushed inside, and he immediately stopped, checking if you're okay before carrying on, splitting you open. once you had adjusted, he started moving at a more regular pace, fucking you deep and slow. your tight pussy gripping his dick like a vice. he managed to find that spongey spot inside of you pretty quickly, hitting it over and over and causing you to let out a pornographic moan. he brought his hand over your mouth in response, muffling your slutty noises.
"is that good, lovie? yeah? you like it when i fuck you like that?" he groaned into your ear, bending over to kiss your neck and bare shoulder.
your eyes rolled back in response, bouncing back into him, which he didn't appreciate very much. with a deep grunt, the hand that remained on your hip tightened its grip, keeping you in place as he pounded into you. your head fell back into his chest in pure ecstasy, the pleasure being almost overwhelming. you could feel like knot building inside you again, getting close to your orgasm once more. his hand moved from his hip down between your legs, rubbing your clit just right, causing you to shriek into his hand. your legs began to shake as you were hurtling towards your climax. when you finally came, he had to move his hand from your clit to under your waist, holding you upright as your orgasm rocked through you. you cried out into his palm, tears forming in the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.
when you finally fell back down to earth, he brought you to your knees and pushed his huge cock into your mouth to chase his own orgasm. it was the first time you'd managed to get a proper look at it. it was the perfect shade of baby pink, your own juices gleaming on his tip. a thick vein ran down the shaft all the way to his firm, full balls. he had a decent amount of blonde hair that trailed upwards towards his bellybutton and disappeared under his t-shirt. you happily took him into you mouth, taking him as far as you could and stroking the rest with your hand. his hand found its way around your neck and squeezed gently, feeling so small in his massive hand. you looked up at him and noticed how he was biting his lip, trying to keep himself quiet. the way his eyes rolled back when you chocked on the sheer size of his dick was so hot that it almost made you want to turn back around and ask for round two. but before you knew it, he was holding your ponytail in his fist and thick ropes of cum were filling your cheeks and running down your throat. his grip on your neck and hair tightened as he let out a grunt, which was loud enough for the boys at the bar to hear for sure, but you didn't care anymore. this man was truly something else.
he helped you get up, dressed and clean afterwards, returning your skirt and carefully wiping your mouth with his thumb. he smiled at you as he did this, telling you how pretty you were and how he just had to fuck you. you went back into the pub one after the other, as to not raise suspicion. but your makeup was all ruined and he had sort of a pornstar sweat-glow to him, so it was pretty obvious regardless. he finished the last mouthful of his whiskey and left with his boys.
it was only when you'd cleaned up their glasses and locked up the pub that you realised you didn't ask for his number. or even his name, for god's sake.
but you were sure that this wouldn't be the last time that giant of a man would stumble in for a drink on a wednesday afternoon.
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˚✧. thank you for reading!
˚✧. please reblog to support me <3
˚✧. dividers by @ saradika-graphics and @ si-eunnis
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harmonysanreads · 26 days
Note
Hello !!! I hope you’re doing fine and enjoyed last patch quest! I really really love your writing, and especially like the way you write Ratio,,,,, that yandere Drabble you posted a while ago with Ratio and Aventurine sharing reader has been haunting me in the best ways <33
Since your request are open, could I ask for a one-shot of yandere Ratio and Aventurine? If it’s fine I’ll ask for reader to be shy/introverted but otherwise I’ll leave it up to your inspiration! Maybe about life at home, or visit in Penacony? Maybe they’re tormenting Reader through strip-poker? Maybe Ratio was inspired by the shrinking device and now they’re having fun with their pocket-sized darling? Anything you fancy I’m not difficult, I only ask you have fun!! <3
(I assumed your no-sequel rule only applied to one-shot, I deeply apologise if I was wrong fjekjdksjd)
Inure
yandere!aventurine x reader x yandere!dr ratio
cw(s) : yandere, forced proximity, slight dehumanization (but everything is sauteed in humor so bon appetit ✨)
wc : 1k
hi nonnie!! thank you so much for your sweet words<3 tbh every idea you presented was very enticing and i'll definitely keep them in consideration for later. for now though, i really wanted to write something soft for these two, i hope you don't mind :>
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Inconveniences come in many forms.
Some more candid than most, while others lurk in the shadows of carelessness like hyenas ; ready to pounce on the unsuspecting prey at the opportune time. Trouble and tribulation eclipse the course of human life, masquerading as two sides of the same coin. What they are, in truth, a pair of mischievous twins who are always watching, evaluating and trapping their victims in elation-filled jumpscares. It is also true that woes differ based on the individual, some even see fit to opine that the source of misery is the individual themselves.
Your vexations however, are dictated by two idiosyncratic persons with interests as farther apart as two solar systems. Which isn't a lot if one considers the magnificence of the universe, but distanced enough to be the tillable land of your miseries. Said inconveniences usually arrive dressed as revoked privileges, confiscation of entertainment items and... movie nights.
A night where you're supposed to be enjoying a film as a group shouldn't have been such an adversity if the aforementioned individuals respected the bare minimum of being normal. On usual occasions, who you end up accompanying is maintained through a strict schedule as opposed to the much friskier notion of rolling-dices that was favored by a certain blonde (in which he always emerged victorious and was thus declared irrationally imbalanced by Veritas) — but, an unforseen lapse of management and chaos was bred.
In matters that concern you, it seemed as though even the most seamless co-operations failed to reach a simple consensus. So when the erudite Dr Ratio expressed eagerness to spend a ‘relaxing afternoon’ with your person, it clashed quite clamorously with Aventurine's desire to have you participate in one of his many adrenaline-high games. And because of the decrease in release of dopamine that came from being a frequent observer of their arguments, you ended up suggesting this dreadful activity ; Ratio's silent perusal by your left and Aventurine's equally quiet phone browsing by your right are all that remains of the earlier fiasco.
You consider it a shame, because unbeknownst to them, you actually were plotting ways to watch this particular film. But, when at approximately fifteen minutes into the story you realized you were the only one among you three that was paying it any attention at all — you felt, quite blatantly, deflated. Surprisingly though, that was not the main source of your current misery at all, no, no ; what was causing you distress was the deplorable portion of space that they alloted to you from the couch.
At least Ratio has the habit of crossing his legs subconsciously, making your life just a miniscule easier. Unlike Aventurine whose default setting is to be attached to any patch of your skin anytime you're within his radius and when he brings that to the cauldron of being compressed between him and Ratio — it perfectly justifies why you're dancing between the provocative lines of mild annoyance and a meltdown. You'd believe they forgot about your existence altogether if not for Ratio's definitely-not-intentional shifting and the without context headpats from Aventurine.
Their treatment, although (probably) not deliberate, suggest you to be the equivalent of the pampered housecat and if one was to generously point out the expression on your face at present, that allegation would be right.
You stifle a sigh that transitions into a yawn with your only friend in this dreadful world, your plush pillow. The dialogues exchanged by the actors in the movie gradually become unintelligible as your vision morphs into a kaleidoscope of black dots and patterns. You draw your knees closer until they become parallel to your chin, musing a scenario where you lean so into the couch that it swallows your form and hurls you into a wonderland free of covetous hands or hearts. Where you could roam without eyes attached to every move you make and most importantly, where the notion of inconveniences would cease to exist.
You've seen it happen in shows a younger you indulged in and a passing thought makes you smile sardonically ; the world is so bizarre that you've effortlessly found yourself in a situation as complex as your current one but, not bizarre enough to make fantasies such as these a reality. The noises from the screen, Ratio's nonchalant page turning and the fragrance of Aventurine's cologne make your lucidity sway, until darkness cradles you close.
That night, you found yourself having a rather tender dream. In your dream, the blonde promptly busied himself in positioning you more comfortably on his lap upon feeling your slumbering head hit his shoulder. You felt succinctly amused upon the ‘place the pillow under their head, moron!’ that left a certain virtuoso's lips. Said virtuoso, shifted the rest of your body to be rested on his lap with a gentleness that baffled even Aventurine. Some say that dreams are manifestations of the desires that stay stagnant within the crevices of our minds. If that theory holds even a fraction of credence, then the percipience of what your subconscious desires, leaves you feeling as solemn as sated.
By the hour you gain awareness of the waking world again, there is but silence surrounding the living room. Your first blink is followed by a series of more and your sense of feeling works faster before your sense of sight, it sticks quite insistently just above your knees and atop your head. You roll a bit and realize they are in fact the hands of Ratio and Aventurine respectively, holding you away from kissing the floor and cracking your nose. As your vision gains more clarity, you notice the purple-head, supported by the palm of his left hand and the arm of the couch. You rise up and notice Aventurine mirroring Ratio's position, you conclude them both to be asleep judging by their collective inertia despite your movements.
Your eyes shift downwards towards the pillow on which you rested moments before and seeing it positioned exactly atop Aventurine's lap, confirm your suspicions that the scene you witnessed in your sleep had, in fact, happened in reality. Perhaps the universe heard your hopeless plea and bargained it with this speck of generosity.
They really didn't move an inch — but the bubbling warmth was soon pushed down by — as if I was a cat they didn't want to disturb!
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being treated like a cat by two of the most cat-like characters in hsr lol
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cherrifire · 2 months
Note
Please share your thoughts on the other 5 cutie marks, I'd love to hear!
Hi everypony! I got like 20 asks for the Dogwarts cutie mark lore so I'm here to speak my truth!
Before we start, I would like to write a quick reminder that a pony's cutie mark is not always their "special talent", but can also represent who they are, their personalities, and a possible destiny. Different cutie marks have different meanings and interpretations, but they're not just about representing what you're good at.
That being said, let's start with the cutie mark design I'm proudest of!
Ren's Cutie Mark
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Ren's cutie mark is of a sunrise and looks pretty simple at first glance but there was a lot of thought that went into this one.
First of all, I bet you're wondering why a sunrise? Well, in the show, it is pretty typical for unicorns with great magical abilities to have one relating to space (examples being Twilight Sparkle, Sunset Shimmer, Starlight Glimmer, and Sunburst). And I figured since I wanted Ren to fall into a similar position of potentially becoming an alicorn, I gave him a cutie mark following the same trend. And I chose a sunrise to reflect the way Ren seems to glow when he enters a room. The way he carries himself is very warm and bright it just catches your eye in a similar way the sun would.
Also, Ren wears sunglasses. So a sun-themed cutie mark seemed appropriate.
Additionally, there are a couple of smaller details I want to point out too. Like the sun rays, if you look at them for a moment you'll see they're shaped like little crowns! I of course had to put a crown in thanks to how much Ren likes to play royalty, so I snuck it in there. And then the red spots underneath could both be interpreted as the sun reflected over water or blood. (But of course, this is a kid show AU so there wouldn't be any blood in Ren's destiny, just a fun reference to the red king and his whole thing about blood dyeing the snow red)
Martyn's Cutie Mark
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I explained this one in an earlier ask but I thought I'd explain it again here for anyone who didn't see it!
Martyn's cutie mark is of a chopped log and a small stick.
This one is mostly a play on the name "Littlewood" but has other meanings too. As a character, Martyn tends to travel and explore quite a bit. In the Life Series specifically, he is usually the last one to find a permanent base and even then doesn't spend a lot of time in one place. Always on the move. Additionally, he's more of a wild card compared to other characters, always trying to be as unpredictable as possible.
The smaller detail here is the little swirl on top of the log is the same as the one on his Minecraft skin's shirt.
BigB's Cutie Mark
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Cookies! Cookies! Cookies! BigB's cutie mark is of 3 cookies where one is trying to eat the others. There are also a few sprinkles there made to look like action lines.
We all know BigB loves cookies so of course I had to give him a cutie mark with cookies in it. For this one, I decided to follow the cutie mark trend of "symbol/item important to the pony duplicated 3 times" (examples being Fluttershy, Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie) but I added a bit more creativity to it with the top on trying to eat the others to represent just how tasty they are 😋
Additionally, rather than the first cookie trying to eat the others, you could interpret it as opening its mouth to talk. Because BigB can not keep a secret to save his life! In Double Life when he started "secret soulmates" with Grian, he didn't last a day without opening his mouth. He told Ren about it immediately because he felt bad for keeping things from him.
Also worth quickly mentioning: People pointed out in my original post that they don't think BigB would be the element of honesty because of his behaviour in Secret Life. But that's just Secret Life. I think Secret Life to BigB was like that episode of My Little Pony where Discord makes the main 6 act the opposite of their true element. BigB was just going through a weird phase of telling very obvious lies because a book told him to.
Skizz's Cutie Mark
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Skizz's cutie mark is of a lightning bolt from a couple storm clouds hitting the ground.
I think this is the cutie mark with the least thought put into it, unfortunately. There was still though just not as much as the others. The big thing I thought was fun was I made the lightning bolt shaped like an "S" to stand for Skizzleman. But other than that, this cutie mark sort of has the same meaning as Rainbow Dash's cutie mark. Quick like lightning, loud, bold, dangerous, and powerful.
Impulse's Cutie Mark
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Impulse's cutie mark is of a lit-up lightbulb.
I absolutely crowded this cutie mark with the letter i. If you look closely, there are 6 of them. Impulse's design also has an i-shaped pattern on the belly if you look closely enough. But that's more of a fun easter egg and doesn't exactly reflect Impulse as a character.
There are a couple of reasons I chose a lightbulb for Impulse, the first and probably most obvious is that he's a redstone guy! He's a technical guy who likes to work smarter, not harder. So I figured the My Little Pony equivalent would be a light bulb/electricity. The second reason for the lightbulb is that it's usually used as a visual representation when characters have that "eureka!" moment in cartoons. When someone has a brilliant idea a little lightbulb turns on above their head. So since Impulse is the ideas guy, I figured a lightbulb would work for his cutie mark.
Etho's Cutie Mark
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Etho's cutie mark is of a snowflake with a missing branch.
I promise there is more to this cutie mark than just "Canada is cold" even if that's part of the reason I wanted to give him a winter-themed cutie mark. While it is fun to make a nod to Etho being Canadian, I thought a winter-themed cutie mark would be fun to represent how he sometimes presents himself. Cold and a bit mysterious. I think deep down once you get to know him, those attributes melt away, but for people who have never met him, he may be intimidating that way.
I'll be honest, I don't watch a lot of Etho content, but I do have a few friends who identify as Etho girlies so I did my research. I was told in his Minecraft Let's Play World, that he has a snowflake build somewhere. I believe they said it was an iron golem farm? (Please correct me if I'm wrong) but I thought that was perfect for the cutie mark. And if you're wondering why there's a branch missing, it's because one of my friends said he was incapable of finishing builds sometimes so I thought that would be fun to include.
-=+=-
Alright. Rant over. To celebrate, here are a few pony doodles so I can put this post in my art tag.
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hysteria-things · 1 month
Note
COULD U POSSIBLY MAKE A MATT FIC BASED OFF OF THIS TIKTOK OR SONG (YOU CAN DECIDE IF U WANT IT TO BE SMUT OR NOT IF U DO MAKE ONE) https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8wp5H2t/
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🔗
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MY OH MY
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get into a pickle when you get poured on, but don’t worry… somebody comes to save you.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing, making out, p in v, ass grabbing, faux sympathy, cum eating (🙈)
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,400
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: meant to post earlier but tumblr decided to close the draft without saving as i was proofreading/editing🤣
hope you enjoy @sluttyformatt :)
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rain trickles down your hair to your shoes; workout clothes soaked.
you wanted to go on a late-night walk, then suddenly it started pouring out of nowhere. currently, you’re standing under a roof edge, arms crossed while you wait for your ride.
your brother isn’t around to pick you up, so your last resort was his best friend. he’s your brother’s age, who’s two years older than you. he’s known him ever since high school, yet your mother always said matt was a bad influence.
although, you do see where she’s coming from. matt was the type to always get in trouble in school, and overall he’s just a big grump. he’s only been nice to you, your brother, and of course his siblings.
headlights glow down the street, getting closer until the minivan stops in front of you. you quickly head over to it, open the door, and get in on the passenger’s side. “hi matty!” you beam. “thank you so much for picking me up. i didn’t know it was going to rain.”
he looks at you, wearing the leather jacket he’s had for as long as you can remember.
he truly doesn’t understand how you can be so happy no matter what, even if you are drenched in water. “you should’ve checked the weather before you left.” he mumbles, putting the car in drive.
“well, it was sunny all day. i didn’t expect rain. it’s okay, though. it’s like a surprise shower.” you smile, fastening the seatbelt.
“uh oh,” you say, looking through your fanny pack that you have strapped to your stomach.
he sighs, still focusing on the road. “what is it now?”
“i may or may not have left my keys home and locked myself out. nobody’s home.” you lick your teeth. “can i come to your place until my brother picks me up? pretty please, matty?”
“fine.” he inhales sharply. “and stop calling me matty.”
it’s silent as you two sit on the couch. your brother texted you saying he’ll let you know when he’s on his way, but god knows how long that’ll be. (despite it being almost midnight)
matt notices a shiver, taking his eyes off of his phone to look. your hands rub up and down your arms trying to warm up, but the chattering of your teeth indicates that it isn’t helping. “go to my room and grab one of my hoodies and pajama pants. they should be in my dresser.” he says coolly.
you smile. “it’s okay, i can wait. i’m fine.”
“put them on.” he demands. “you’re soaking wet and freezing.”
staring at him, he keeps staring back because of your silence. “go.”
you sigh like a child, getting up from the couch and walking down the hallway into his bedroom.
matt’s clothes are far too big on you, but you do feel warmer and more comfortable. his pants hang low just past your waistline. the hoodie on the other hand is long, causing the sleeves to give you sweater paws.
you sit on the chair he has in the corner, scrolling on your phone. matt can’t help but stand at the doorway, watching you.
not in a creepy way, but the fact you’re wearing his clothes has his dick reacting from the view. the way it’s too big for your body turns him to fuck on.
he cannot feel this way toward you. your his best friend’s sister, for god’s sake. but he can’t help it.
“feel better?”
you get startled by his voice. “yes, thank you.”
“told you so,” he grumbles.
rolling your eyes playfully, you stand up. “i didn’t mean to linger in here. i got distracted.”
as you start to walk by him, he grabs onto your shoulders to stop you. your breath hitches at the feeling of his rings; the way they drag down your arm makes you subconsciously clench your thighs together.
his cologne floods your nostrils, and the way he’s looking at you is different now.
he’s always been a grumpy kid and had a resting bitch face, but now he’s looking at you seductively and with need.
the hand that was on your arm now cups the front of your neck. there’s no pressure, but the fingers with no rings go over your bottom lip.
he sighs sympathetically. “it sucks that you’re off limits. i would so fuck you right now.”
your eyebrows raise high from the sudden courage he had to just blurt that out. however, you smirk.
“if you kiss me.” you shrug. “i might let it happen.”
he groans, leaning down to smash his lips on yours.
still intact, you grab his jacket and pull him in closer, your bodies moving at the same rhythm.
he starts to push you back to where the chair is, turning you 180° so he’s the one sitting in it while you straddle his lap.
your hips grind, rubbing just the right spot on not only you but him also. you smile into the kiss when you feel him hardening beneath you.
tugging at the pants you're wearing, he pulls away. “take these off.”
you shimmy them down your legs as he unbuckles his belt and pulls his bottoms down below his thighs. he grabs your hips to hover you over him, but stops and teases the tip.
you wiggle to get some friction as he smirks. “manners.”
“please.” you whine. “please let me ride your cock. i’m so fucking wet for you.”
matt sinks you slowly onto him, your walls immediately stretching to his size. “i didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth.”
you mumble something into his chest, bouncing uncontrollably on his dick. your sweater paws ball up on his biceps. your ass slaps repeatedly on his skin, the sound echoing off the walls.
he tuts, grabbing your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. “why so quiet?”
“stop.” you mewl, nuzzling your face even deeper into his body. your face is hot from embarrassment.
“is somebody embarrassed to be fucking her brother’s best friend? it looks like ms. goody-two-shoes is a little naughty.” he says lowly into your ear, causing you to start whimpering and going even faster.
it doesn’t take long for his tip to brush against the right spot “oh, fuck.” you moan, legs shaking at his sides.
“better not get this chair dirty, otherwise i’ll make you clean it,” he warns, knowing that you can’t control your orgasm.
pouting, you clench hard. of course, your release runs down his thighs and onto the seat. your eyes are glassed over while you look at him, who’s shaking his head. “you’re making a mess.”
somehow so quickly, he lifts you off of him and onto the floor. now, he’s behind you, and your cheek leans against the chair.
he again nudges at your entrance, this time you buck your hips back but he grips them tight. “clean up your mess first.”
he doesn’t ask. he orders while pushing your head down further into the cushion.
obeying, you flick your tongue onto your arousal. normally, you’d find this gross, but you’re so wet and turned on that you’ll listen to whatever he says. his presence feels like you are under a spell.
a sweet and salty taste fall on your tongue, following his instructions to a t.
a hum of approval is heard behind you. he spreads your legs wider, slamming into you with no warning.
you moan loudly, arching as much as you can in this position. “m-matt! shit, matt!” you yelp.
he grunts, taking in how well your pussy feels engulfing him.
tears threaten to spill from your eyes once they roll back, moaning loud and clear when your g-spot gets abused already.
strings of curses leave your lips, the way he’s balls deep inside of you right now have you quiver a lot. “you feel—” you pause, licking your lips and shutting your eyes tight. “so good. like… holy fucking god.”
he chuckles, placing his hand on your shoulder to drill into you harder. before you even know that it’s happening, you cum for the second time, shaking uncontrollably from the pleasure.
a deep breath later, matt makes sure to pull out and paint your back white.
“you can keep the clothes.” he says, jiggling your ass to play with it. “so you can wear them the next time i fuck you.”
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog
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prettiestlovergirl · 2 months
Text
SO IT GOES... (pt. 2)
tw: MDNI; fem!reader; tipsy sex; semi-public sex; light hair pulling; blowjob; light praise; creampie; unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it); reader has acrylics on!
concept: mom's friend's son!luke who only comes around when your parents are hanging out or for big events. song: so it goes... by taylor swift
a/n: the not-so-long-awaited part two! concept from this post by @too-deviant ! link to part one right here, you don't HAVE to read it in order to read this one but... getting fingered by luke is always a plus. enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪
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"meet me in the stairwell" "don't make me start without you"
it took a bit of redirecting, but eventually you made your escape from your mom, casually but not-so-casually making your way to the stairwell just like he demanded asked you to.
you moved quickly, despite your legs still being a bit wobbly from the orgasm you'd just had. your panties were still pushed to the side, you'd been too impatient and too tipsy to care to compose yourself.
you found him exactly where he said he'd be, in the stairwell. you finally took a moment to just admire him, something you had been a bit too distracted to do before.
gods, he looked so fucking edible right now. he'd pulled his suit jacket off a while ago, now just standing in a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his pants perfectly hugging everything you couldn't wait to get your hands on.
"you just gonna keep standing there and drooling, doll? or are you gonna get your sweet ass over here?" luke smirked, raising his eyebrow at you teasingly while you blushed a bit at getting caught staring.
"what? a girl can't take a moment to appreciate a nice view before demolishing it?" you teased, but finally walked down those last couple of steps to meet him at the base.
as soon as you were close enough, his hands were back on you. his fingers dug into the fat of your ass as he pulled you in and crashed his lips into yours.
he groaned on contact, clearly missing this just as much as you had. he kissed you rough and hard, not at all caring about the lipstick he was smudging around.
you slipped your fingers into his hair, tugging at his perfect curls while he pulled away from your lips and started kissing down your neck, pulling moans out from you as grazed his teeth against your flesh.
"have i mentioned how much i fucking love this dress on you?" luke questioned against your skin, sliding his finger under the strap of your dress to move it down and give himself more access to your skin. "makes your tits look so fucking incredible."
you let out a breathy laugh, biting your lip as you felt his lips trailing down your skin, making you shiver despite the warmth radiating off his body.
"mm, luke, let me suck your cock." you moaned, bringing your hand down to his bulge and squeezing lightly. he sunk his teeth down into your shoulder with a groan. he let out a soft chuckle, the crude words coming from your pretty lips turning him on even more.
"c'mon, let me pay you back, you know i hate being in debt." you cooed, bringing your hands down to his pants and gently fidgeting with the buttons.
"fuck, yes, please." he groaned, watching as you got down onto your knees. you were quick to get his cock out from his pants, practically drooling as it sprung free, pulsing with need.
you wrapped your hand around it, slowly pumping him as he leaned his head back against the wall. his cock was already leaking with precum, and you smirked as you leaned down and kitten licked it up, relishing in the salty flavor you'd missed so much.
"shit..." luke hissed, moaning as you lightly traced the veins on his cock with your acrylics. his hands fell down to your hair, using his hand to tug it up into a loose ponytail as you finally wrapped your lips around his tip.
you started off teasing, of course. this was probably the only way you could get revenge for his teasing earlier and you relished in it. you sucked and swirled your tongue gently while luke let out breathy groans above you.
you sucked gently on the tip, your hand now gliding over the shaft in time. his grip on your hair tightens, making you whine softly against him before finally starting to take him deeper into your mouth.
your movements continued to be slow and teasing, bobbing your head up and down while your hand languidly stroked what didn't fit. luke finally had enough and thrusted forward into your mouth, surprising you and making you gag.
"don't be a brat." he groaned, narrowing his eyes down at you while you blinked up at him with 'innocent' doe eyes. you finally relented, however, and started to bob your head faster, forcing yourself to go deeper.
"fuck, that's it, that's a good girl." luke grunted, tugging at you hair as his hips bucked forward into your mouth and made you gag around him again and again. "fuck, fuck, 'm close, doll." he warned.
you continued to suck and bob your head, swirling your tongue around him and soaking his cock in your drool as he fucked your mouth. you could feel his cock throbbing against your tongue, spurring you on and making move faster.
"shit, fuck, such a good girl, such a good fucking girl." he hissed, groaning as his hips bucked into your mouth again and again, until finally his cum shot down your throat.
you did your best to swallow what you could as your tongue continued to milk him for every last drop. "fuck, i missed this." he panted, admiring just how gorgeous you looked with his cum dripping down the side of your mouth.
he helped you up off the ground, his hands securely holding your waist as he pulled you into a deep kiss, groaning at the taste of himself on your tongue as he wiped your cheek clean.
you moaned into his lips as he turned you around, pushing your back against the wall as you barely had a moment to catch your breath. "you good?" he asked, his hands bunching your little black dress up around your waist.
"uh-huh, so good." you nodded, panting softly as your hands reached around and slid under his shirt, needing to feel more of his skin against you.
you stood up on the tips of your toes as he finally, finally, guided his cock up to your entrance and thrusted in. your head instantly leaned back against the wall, both of your moans echoing around the empty stairwell.
you should have been worried about someone walking in, someone catching you, but as he was slowly filling you up you just couldn't bring yourself to give a fuck.
he reached down and hitched your leg around his hip, holding onto you as he started rocking his hips against you. you were still so tight around him, making him groan out as he pushed all the way to the hilt.
your nails dug into his back as he filled you up, relishing in the soft burn as your walls stretched around his cock to fit him comfortably inside of you.
"fuck, you still feel so fucking tight." luke hissed, taking a moment to press his forehead into the crook of your neck while you tried to catch your breath. "mm, luke, move" you begged, rolling your hips up for some friction.
he let out a strained chuckle as he nodded. "relax, doll, i got you." he stated, finally starting to thrust in and out of you, filling the silence with the wonderful, wet sounds of his cock filling you up again and again.
your nails scratched up and down his back, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to hold in your louder moans. you had to be quiet, you knew you had to be quiet, but it was just so fucking good.
"oh, fuck, luke!" you moaned, his teeth digging back into your skin to create a harsh mark and making you whine even louder. "fuck, you have to quiet down." he groaned, his own eyes screwing shut for a moment so he could relish in the feel of your pussy clenching around him.
"so hard, fuck, so good!" you whimpered, his thrusts getting faster and faster, your nails scratching up and down his back, your hips bucking to meet his every thrust.
you two spent god know how long like this, moaning against one another, leaving marks you'd have to deal with for at least a week or two.
he pressed his lips back to yours, one hand digging into your skin harshly, enough to bruise, while the other started to thumb your clit. he was getting close, so close, and he needed to get you right there with him.
his thumb moved faster and faster, his thrusts getting more frantic and erratic while your moans turned into whines and gasps. "fuck, fuck, right there!" you whined as he hit that familiar spongey spot that turned your mind to goo.
"yeah? right here? fuck, you gonna cum? you gonna cum for me, doll?" luke groaned into your ear, hitting the same spongey spot again and again as you nodded, unable to speak as you finally came undone.
you soaked his cock, the wet, sloppy sounds of his thrusting getting even louder as he continued to chase his high, enjoying the sounds of your hips snapped together again and again until he came with a groan.
"fuckkkk." he panted, staying buried deep inside you while you both attempted to catch your breath. you probably shouldn't have lingered, your moms most definitely looking for you now, but neither one of you were ready for him to pull out.
eventually, though, he pulled out and helped you fix your dressed and panties. "shit, i lost a nail." you pouted, looking down at your once whole and pretty nail set now missing a piece.
"just tell your parents you lost it while getting railed in a stairwell." he smirked as he fixed himself up. you smacked his arm harshly which just made him chuckle even more at your blushy annoyance.
"i'm kidding, i'm kidding. so... see you at easter?"
ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ
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