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bby-deerling · 3 months

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against the kitchen floor (law x reader nsfw)

you push law to his breaking point. he bends for you.

18+, mdni, nsfw wc: 2.1k masterlist

cw: afab!reader, established relationship, toxic relationship dynamics, arguing, law is bad with feelings, ultimatums, angst with a happy ending (?), emotional roller coaster, make up sex, confessions, fingering, law has control issues, emotional manipulation, edging

tagging some law kissers: @eelnoise @ragethebunny @sanjisprincesswifey @willowhaze26 @risenwrites

Tension hangs low and thick in the air. The early, dreamlike glow that illuminates the sky shortly before the dawn breaks is far too weak to break beneath the waves, leaving the inside of the submarine quiet and dark—as murky and clouded as his demeanor as he pours himself a cup of coffee in silence. You eye him carefully, dancing gracefully along the line between staring intently and getting lost in the labyrinth of your own mind; the wheels were turning fast enough that Law could hear the cogs turning inside your head. He knows. He knows this conversation, the one that remains unspoken but hangs in the space between the two of you is imminent, though it doesn’t prevent him from attempting to avoid it. Feigning normalcy, he pours a splash of cream into his mug, and more than a splash into yours, sliding it across the counter towards you.

For a moment, there’s a respite from the painful tug on his heartstrings as a familiar sense of gratitude graces your features, though there’s a sad undertone in the smile you give him, as if this were the last time you’d be partaking in this daily ritual with him. He was far from a fool—he had seen your bags partially packed in your room, and though the gift of a cup of coffee was nothing out of the ordinary, something deep in his heart prayed that the simple gesture was enough to salvage things. Far from an ideal partner, Law was closed off, blunt, and stubborn, though he had thought you admired those qualities in him; however, here you were, on the verge of jumping ship into the cold depths of the unknown without so much as attempting to talk things out with him. As he sips from his mug, he watches you closely with his intense, molten stare; your lips part once, twice, three times without a single word escaping them. Vexed by your hesitation, he almost implores you to spit it out already, and bring your hidden woes out into the open so the two of you can fight about it, but he loses his nerve right as your voice breaks the silence.

“Do you love me?” you whisper numbly, all hint of emotion wiped from your face. The timbre of your voice betrays your pain as it wobbles and warbles, and almost fades into the stale air of the submarine.

Hitting his eardrums sharply, your words pierce straight through the thin membrane and send needles of pain into his head. He had attempted to prepare himself mentally for this conversation, but the reality crashing down on him like a violent, stormy wave is too much for him to handle, overwhelming him before his head even falls underneath the cool water.

“Of course I do. Have I given you the impression that I don’t?” he says; it’s curt, tense, and straddling the line between dismissive and disinterested as Law makes a last-ditch effort to shut the conversation down before it begins.

“Could have fooled me.” you rasp out, nearly choking on the short phrase. The tone that spills out of your throat says more than four simple words ever could, and Law knows full and well what you’re trying to tell him. You’ve never told me that you love me. You’ve been neglecting me. You never open up to me.

None of these sentiments were objectively untrue, but they anger Law nonetheless; his inner world was nearly entirely occupied by you, doubly so during long stretches underwater when a sense of stagnancy enveloped the Polar Tang, leaving the crew with nothing to do but float. As he wakes, his first action is to pull you closer to his chest and place a soft kiss to the back of your head. His time spent locked away in his office studying, drawing up plans, or organizing shifts for the crew is inefficient and takes far longer than it should on account of the visions of you dancing in his mind, distracting him from the dullness of necessary paperwork. Each tick of the clock in the evening is an incessant countdown to the time left until he can pull you close under the comforting confines of his sheets, drifting out of consciousness with you safely tucked into his side.

But how were you supposed to know? He never expresses those feelings, verbally or otherwise, and instead masks his affection for you with an unbreakable stony façade, concealing his feelings in an attempt to preserve his dignity.

He takes a while to speak, jaw clenching so hard he nearly hurts himself. “You’re not leaving.” he says lowly, with authority, and no room for argument, placing the venting of your frustrations on the backburner; Law could address those later, behind closed doors when his overwhelming fear and trembling dies down, but he can’t lose you—not without losing his own mind in the process.

“I didn’t say anything about—” you start, attempting to steer the conversation back to its original course with no avail.

“I saw your bags.” he spits out, unable to mask the pain in his voice. Your jaw snaps shut as your face burns red with the embarrassment of being found out as he continues. “Were you even planning on telling me? Or were you just going to slink off at the next port and disappear on me?” The sheer concept of abandonment has his dark eyes brimming with more pain than you’d ever seen in them, his stare holding a compounded sense of loss and agony.

“Law, I don’t want to go, but—” you whisper, whiny and almost verging into a desperate wail. His glare is dangerous and pins you in place, the edge of the counter digging into the flesh of your back.

“But what?” he hisses, venom and hurt coating his words as he cages you against the counter, arms on either side as he towers over you, puffing himself up in an attempt to plant your fleeing feet to the ground and make them stick.

“I can’t do this anymore if you keep me at arm’s length.” you say, voice wavering far more than you had intended it to; the words you had so carefully crafted in your head felt like daggers crawling up your throat, scratching the fleshy, mucus covered column to break skin along each stretch of their ascent. The last thing you wanted to do was leave him, but you couldn’t go on any longer giving pieces of yourself to a man who wouldn’t—or couldn’t—reciprocate the sentiment.

You needed his heart to spill, leaving pooling blood around your feet as proof that he was alive and beating.

As Law glares down at you, his grip on the counter causing his knuckles to turn a crisp white, he knows the time for bargaining for a lighter sentence had long since passed; it was either spew his guts for you to pick at like a vulture, or lose you to the soft roll of the tides. And so, with a deep breath, he’s forced to tell you why saying those three little words is so difficult for him, how the last time he heard them before you came along was from Corazón’s lips, and how he replays his death in his head every time he hears the phrase I love you, Law. He tells you, tears in his eyes, how he loved his parents, his sister, his neighbors and classmates, and that he fears that loving you—speaking it into existence—would condemn you to the same fate.

He tells you that he loves you, and that he has been loving you silently all this time.

It was the most emotion you had ever seen from Law in the many years you had known him, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and threatening to roll down the plane of his cheek. His confessions were more than enough to sate your need for trust and vulnerability from him, and seeing him so rattled left you with nothing in your chest but the intense need to soothe him. And so, your lips latch onto his, both of you murmuring a muffled I’m sorry into each other’s chapped and cracked mouths. Law had never pressed himself to your body harder as he threads a hand through your hair, digging his nails into your scalp to pull you closer. Coaxing your tongue to entwine with his by dragging gentle stripes along the wet muscle, he takes you, consuming your soul whole with each drag of his lips against yours. He’s messy—sloppy and messier than he’s ever been as he pours himself into you, each twitch of his tongue another confession too fragile to speak aloud.

“You’re not fucking leaving me.” he growls, placing his knee between your legs, “Not now, not ever.” Unable to temper his patience, his hand grasps harshly into your soft thigh, creeping upwards under your nightgown towards your core.

“I’m not—I love you, Law.” you whimper against him, allowing him turn the sounds dripping from your lips from devoted assurances to lewd mewls as he sinks a finger inside of you. His cold skin shocks the warmth of your insides, doubly so when he adds another digit and curls both upwards into your sweet spot.

“I love you too.” he whispers back; the sentiment still feels alien, and in a sense terrifying as it falls from his lips, though the discomfort is well worth its weight in platinum if it means keeping you wrapped around his fingers, his waist, and his heart. “Dripping wet for me—you needed this, didn’t you?” he murmurs, holding only the slightest bit of characteristic teasing in his voice, too mentally exhausted to do much besides act on instinct.

“Needed you. I always need you, Law.” you mumble between gasps as the press of his fingers inside of you brings heat pooling to your cheeks. Scissoring his fingers inside of you, he keeps you straddling the edge, a form of punishment for gaining control of him emotionally, enough to force him to divulge things he’d sworn to keep buried deep in his chest under heaps of cold, dense snow.

A heated whine settles in your throat as he slows down right before your precipice once more. "Lemme come…” you plead, your fingernails digging into the groove of his waist as you cling to him. Denying you the mercy you were expecting, he withdraws his fingers from you and pushes your shoulder down harshly, satisfied as he watches you sink to your knees, back dragging along the metal cupboards. He drops to your level unceremoniously, silently coaxing you to lay down, flush against the floor as he pins you below him like a lowly piece of prey. Latching his lips to yours again, he props himself up with one hand and lets the other roam, harshly grasping at your breasts, trailing down your sides and splaying out over your stomach, and finally settling between your legs, teasingly dragging along your slit, causing you to whine and grind against him. Giving into the sweet song of your begging, he circles his thumb along your aching bud, slowly working you up; tongue buried deep in your mouth, he intends on getting you close but not too close, wanting to keep you panting and writhing beneath you for his own benefit for a while longer. As you whine at the loss of contact against your clit, he undoes his zipper and lines himself up with you, slathering the head of his cock in the slick arousal that coats your folds and inner thighs.

The connection between you had been signed in consummating fluids and deep sighs hundreds of times over, but this is the first time that Law truly makes love to you. He slides into you, keeping his lips firmly on yours, his mind swirling with intimacy he thought himself incapable of. Full of newfound initiative to make you snap as soon as possible, his hand is quick to return to the needy, aching spot you need it most; his movements are practiced and hold precision honed over countless sessions tuning himself to your needs, but each touch is imbued with something novel, intoxicating, and foreign—as you turn red hot and flutter around him, Law is intent on showing you how much he loves you, sealing your promise to never leave him and using his flowing affections to keep you locked into that decision.

Law promises himself he’ll be better to you moving forward, that he will reassure you more, and take care of you in the same way you care for him, but in this moment, he places improvement on the backburner for a short while—all that mattered to him right now was you falling apart for him against the kitchen floor.

#one piece x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law smut #law smut #law x you #trafalgar law x you #law x y/n #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law #x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #one piece scenario

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 14 days

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a/n: someone said that they needed to see the imprint of spencer's teeth in their skin and that got the cog wheels in my brain turning!

nsfw.

just thinking about rabid and needy spencer that swears up and down that he doesn't have a thing for marking you, but his hands are always gripping and mean, and possessive.

large lithe hands dig into your hips, holding you against his pelvis so that he can rut into you pathetically. each time he does it sends a shock up your spine, especially when the tip of his cock brushes up against your g-spot.

spencer leans over you, whining and whimpering into your ear. he says the nastiest things, but god does he love to beg. he knows that begging will get him exactly what he wants.

"please let me mark you. please, please, please..." he places sloppy, wet uncoordinated kisses on the spot between your shoulder and your neck.

his wet lips send a shiver down your spine and you can barely think and your head scrambled, but you somehow found it within yourself say yes. "you can - fuck you can do whatever you want."

you had no idea whether the sound that came out of spencer was either a purr or a mewl, because the noise that left him wasn't human like.

you felt his teeth sink into your skin, the dull sharpness of them dragging a deep groan out of you. it hurt a bit yes, but the feeling of it drove you mad.

he littered them all around your shoulders and your back, even going as far as nipping the soft flesh of your jaw.

"thank you... thank you." he murmured, licking over and placing kisses on the spots that he had bitten.

#✉ ― signed meau !#♡ ― nsfmeau !#i really like doing headcanons!!#this one made me giggle #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x plus size reader #plus size reader #x plus size reader #x chubby reader #plus size!reader #chubby reader #fanfiction #smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid headcanon #criminal minds fanfiction

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 2 months

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hiii i love ur fics idk if ur requests are on rn but can u do a short drabble of the tiktok trend where the guy hasn't ask his gf to be his valentines day so she "put him on sale" as a joke ofc but she's like

BF FOR SALE ($3.50)

- amazing cook

-crusty feet

- will buy anything u want

any character is fine but i would love katsuki or shoto!!

LMFAOOOO this is for sure the funniest ask ive gotten yet😭😭😭 this is so cute !! and very long overdue I apologize writer block devil was rlly kickin my ass😞 valentines been over but yk i had to write this ! i was rlly hesitating between writing for shoto or katsuki and then i realized i could write for BOTH OF THEM!! and so i did ! i tried honoring your request as best i could, hope you like it <3 !

no pronouns mentioned, pure tooth rotting nasty fluff, use of petnames (my love for shoto and sweets, babe and idiot (lol) for katsuki), katsuki is an asshat but when isn’t he, shy katsuki, shoto is a bit of an airhead, kissing, biting, reader is petty asl lol, lemme know if i missed something else !

todoroki shoto ♥︎

“yn, my love.”

“yes, shoto ?”

the corners of shoto’s mouth pull into a tiny frown at the usage of his first name. no baby, no hun, not even sho. just shoto.

“did i do something to upset you ?” he asks carefully from his spot at the foot of your dorm bed he seems to be stuck at, he can’t bring himself to move until he knows if you’re actually mad at him, and he has an inkling you are.

you look up at him for no longer than a second then look back down at your phone screen “what makes you think that ?” you question back nonchalantly.

“you posted something on your tiktok account..” shoto doesn’t have a clue how to have this conversation with you and it makes him a little nervous, he regrets not going to izuku for advice after all.

“mhmmmm~” you hum, urging him to continue knowing damn well you know what he’s going to say. you wanted to hear him say it himself.

you know shoto’s had no previous relationships before you so these type of things probably don’t mean as much to him as they do to you, but doesn’t everyone want their boyfriends to ask them to be their valentine ? you sure do, and your boyfriend hadn’t asked you to be his yet, so as petty as you know you were being at the time you posted the tiktok he’s no doubt here for right now.

shoto feels like a criminal on trial desperately trying to plead his case with you being the judge. tentatively, he asks “ you said you were..putting me up for sale ?”

immediately it’s like a switch had been flipped. you place your phone down onto your bed next to you, shoto wishes he could take your phone’s place. you cross your leg over the other and bring your hands together like a super villain revealing their master plan “yes. yes i did.”

“oh.”

silence. nothing.

shoto tried—he’s trying. he’s trying so insanely hard to make sense of everything that is you but he simply can’t. he breaks eye contact to think of more to ask but his attention is quickly pulled back to you when he hears you whine.

“uuuuughhh shotoooo~” you moan, throwing your head back against the headboard. “you’re not supposed to say ‘oh’ !” you’re face changes from grumpy to deadpan as you lower your voice slightly to try and mimic him. on any other day this would’ve made him laugh but he’s beyond lost at this point. he clears his throat before speaking again.

“ i don’t know what i’m supposed to say—or what i did for you to want to sell me.” he thinks “and for 3 dollars at that.”

you let out a laugh when you process his words and shoto’s shoulders magically feel lighter at the sound. carefully, he slides a little closer to the side of your bed so he can stand at your bedside. little by little. you pretend you don't notice.

"it's what you deserve for not askin' me to be your valentine."

the secret’s finally out and you get to see how the cog wheels in his head are starting to turn in real time, it has you holding back a giggle when he looks up at you like a deer in headlights.

“is that..why you were mad ?” you nod, humming out a playful mhmm

“ya really hurt my feelings you know ? to think my own boyfriend wouldn’t ask me” you clench your fist over your heart and fake sob dramatically.

shoto huffs out a laugh, relieved to see you’re not actually mad, and goes to sit down on your bed. he tentatively reaches for your hand and squeezes it twice when you let him hold it. before bringing it up to his lips and placing a sweet little kiss to it. it feels as if pop rocks are going off inside of you.

“ i’m sorry for not asking you to be my valentine.” he apologizes, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing your hand “ i was thinking i should’ve, but i didn’t want you to think it was weird since we’re already dating.” his thumb goes to run over your fingers “ i was worried me being too intense would scare you off.” he mumbles.

your eyebrows furrow, you lean towards him to make him look at you “ you wouldn’t scare me off, who told you that ?”

“kaminari. he said ‘coming on too strong scares away the babes.’ ” shoto quotes

you sigh. of course it was that bigmouth portable charger filling his head with this stuff.

you pull your hand out of his grasp and he looks up to protest but you grab his face in your hands before he can say anything, you can practically see him start melting at the contact as he blinks at you slowly, he reminds you of a cat.

“sho” you purr, rubbing his cheeks “ rule number one is never ever listening to kaminari’s dating advice. most of the time it is very wrong.” you explain.

shoto presses his mouth to the palm of your hand “yeah, i’m starting to regret that now.” he speaks into it, you snort. he leans in closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips and you reciprocate, pressing a few more kisses on his lips for good measure “ i’m really sorry for not asking you.” he says in between pecks. you hum in response to him placing even more kisses all around your face. “s’okay. i’m also kinda sorry for putting you up for sale.” you say, running your fingers through his hair while he places kisses on your shoulder.

he lifts his head up to look at you then, an eyebrow raised with an amused expression on his face “kinda sorry ?” he asks.

you nod “mhm. kinda sorry.”

he chuckles to himself, then gets up so he can climb into bed next to you. when he’s positioned how he likes it, with his head in your lap while you comb through his hair with your fingers, he sighs peacefully “well, it wasn’t all bad. i’m glad you think i’m a good cook.”

“what about the crusty feet ?”

“i’m choosing to ignore that part.” shoto smirks lightly to himself when he hears you laugh at his joke, clearly proud of himself for it. “and i will buy you anything you want, to make it up to you.”

“i don’t need you to buy me anything, sho” you roll your eyes with a lovesick smile “ all you gotta do is ask.”

he blinks up at you, looks off the the side as if he’s deep in thought, and suddenly gets off your lap to sit right in front of you. you never think you’ll get over how pretty your boyfriend is and being reminded of it with how close he is to you makes you flustered. he leans in to kiss you passionately and you don’t know if it’s the love he pours into it or the lack of air that has you so dizzy, you don’t dwell on it.

when he pulls away he’s looking at you like you hung up the stars in the sky and he simply, almost shyly smiles at you and asks.

“ will you be my valentine ?”

bakugou katsuki ♥︎

you did not expect katsuki to come barging into your dorm room five minutes after you’d posted your tiktok. the loud sound of someone banging on your door and proceeding to let themselves in seconds later causes you to let out a squeak.

in comes katsuki, phone tightly clutched in his hand and the moment his eyes zeroed on you he’s like a bull charging at a red flag. he stands right in front of you, angry frown on display before he shoves his phone in your face.

“explain this. now.” he growls, you have to hold back a laugh, keeping your face as calm as possible you look between him, his screen then back at your phone.

“what’s confusing about it ? i thought i was being pretty straight forward.”

his eye twitches. “why the hell did you put me up for sale ?! and for three dollars and fifty fuckin’ cents ?!” he exclaims, you can’t help the snort that bursts out of you, though katsuki doesn’t look as amused as you are.

“explain.” he deadpans.

“i think you can figure it out.” you shrug back.

he mutters insults to himself that you can’t catch “well obviously fuckin’ not, cus I wouldn’t be askin’ you if i did.” you simply shrug and look back at your phone. “i wrote it in the caption.”

it takes him a second to process then he’s tapping his password and opening the clock app at super sonic speed. his eyebrows furrow and you see him tapping away at his phone. his eyes widen when he reads your caption and he looks down at you with a mix of desperation and disbelief.

“you’re mad cus I didn’t ask you to be my valentine ?” your bratty huff and turn to the side as you shrug again is all the answer he needs. he looks at you for about 5 seconds longer then sighs.

he sits down on your bed and keeps staring. katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things and one of those things is you ignoring him. a warm hand on your ankle startles you and you can’t even ask him what he’s doing before your being yanked towards him. you squeal, almost missing the smirk on his face or the huff of laughter at your reaction. almost though, so you glare at him. katsuki looms over you until your noses almost touch, then you turn away with a huff. he chuckles, pressing his lips to your neck.

“ yer such a baby, y’know that ?” he mumbles, smirking against you neck. you huff but make no effort to shrug him off “ no i’m not, jerk. is it so wrong for me to want my boyfriend to ask me to be his valentine’s ?” you grumble, trying to ignore the feel of his warm lips against your skin, it’s not working so well for you.

“s’not what i’m sayin, sweets” he nips at your earlobe “‘m sayin’ ya coulda just told me ‘stead of bein’ a baby about it.” you can’t tell if this is his way of trying to apologize. either way, you don’t want to give in just yet.

“i’m not supposed to tell you to ask me to be your valentine’s katsuki, that’s not the point~ !” you huff petulantly. you feel a but childish but, c’mon ! it’s a given to have your boyfriend as your valentine and it wouldn’t hurt your demon spawn of a boyfriend to be a little but romantic once in a while.

he playfully rolls his eyes at you “see, what’d i tell you? big baby.” leaning forward he nips at your nose making you groan and trying to push him away with your palm. katsuki being the powerhouse that he is, doesn’t budge. “ i didn’t think to ask ya cus you’re already mine. so why should i need to ask something that’s a given ?”

your heart beats faster at his words and katsuki takes his chance when he feels you loosing up more and more. suddenly he’s got your wrists in his grip, holding them above you and looking down at you with that sickeningly handsome smirk. you’re almost there, he can practically feel it.

“i—i’m..still mad at you” you stutter out weakly, your defenses are down.

“yeah ?” he taunts.

“yeah. apologize.”

he scoffs, rolling his eyes lightheartedly “why should i apologize ? you said my fuckin’ feet stink.”

“ ah, ah, ah.” you tut “don’t put words in my mouth, i said your feet were crusty.”

“yeah, thanks babe. that makes it so much better.” he sasses, you laugh “and i complimented you ! i said you were an amazing cook !”

“yeah but that ain’t a compliment, ‘ts a fact.” he says matter of factly, you’re eyes threaten to get stuck at the back of your skull with how hard you roll them and he snickers.

he dives in and steals a kiss, and then another one when you don’t stop him. when he pulls away to catch his breath, ready to steal another kiss you stop him by placing your hand on his chest. he looks down at you questioningly and you give him a raised brow in response. he groans.

“fine. m’sorry” he concedes quietly

“foooorrr ?” you urge.

he narrows his eyes at you as if saying “don’t push it” but swallows his words down “ for not askin’ you to be my valentine’s or whatever the fuck” he shoves his now hot face into your neck and mumbles “now quit bein’ all pissed at me.”

you’re happy enough with that, so you wrap your arms around his neck, one of your hands creeping up his nape and into his hair. he sighs contentedly, clearly enjoying the attention you’re giving him.

“thank you. i’m also sorry for saying you have crusty feet.” hearing him scoff at the accusation makes you giggle “and for putting you up for sale.” he hums, happy with your apology.

“..kinda.”

“oi.” he warns. you giggle in response continuing your ministrations in his hair.

“you still haven’t asked me so..” you trail off. he lifts his head up to look at you with a blond eyebrow raised.

“ does this valentine shit really matter that much to you ?” he asks.

you respond immediately “yes.” nodding aggressively to make your point.

he sighs, shaking his head. he looks at you, then looks off to the side in embarrassment, he can be so cute when he wants to be. steeling his nerves he looks you straight in the eyes. fearless with fierce red cheeks and all.

“b-be my valentine, idiot..”

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kaycode1999 · 8 days

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For anyone who might be saying Bee is out of character in the trailer let me remind you of the batshit insane things he's done in the movies and TV shows

Drove up to the dealership parking lot as Sam was looking at cars and threw his door into the car next to him

blasted a frequency that shattered the glass on every other car in the vicinity scaring Bobby Bolivia enough to let them take it for $4000

Tried to wingman Sam by stalling his engine and pulling over to the side of the road while playing sexual healing

Chased Sam up onto the walkway while he was riding a bike

Threw a hissy fit about being called a crappy camero and scanned a newer model

Essentially relieved himself all over agent Simmons because he was rude

Drove to where Sam was at college and drove up onto a bush in front of the frat house where Sam was at the party before blaring the car alarm

Started going through different songs about how the “ girl” who got in with Sam was bad news and Sam was on the verge of being assaulted or cheating

Slammed what he thought was a human girls head into the dashboard before spraying what Im assuming is coolant on her because she insinuated she was going to get Sam to cheat on Mikayla

Threw himself out of a plane and used a dead Decepticon to soften his fall

Accidentally destroyed a major portion of Charlie’s house

Smeared egg all over the car of Charlie's bully before punching the roof and jumping on it crushing the car

Ran into a tree at high speed because he turned off his lights

Joined illegal street racing

Fought a modified human and lost

Used a random truck like a scooter to go after knockout because he lost his T-Cog and ended up going over a cliff

Drove off a ship and blasted a Decepticon ship in mid air

Did the dirty dancing chair thing in a paramount commercial https://youtu.be/QWRkBv4zJpU?si=6DUH2Zcpr2BXjA5T (I linked the commercial because it has me dying laughing every time)

youtube

Joined an underground bot fighting ring to find Grimlock

Shot the tape for never gonna give you up out of his cassette player the second it started playing nearly taking Charlie’s head off

Angrily did donuts in front of the stinger prototype

Forced his steering wheel into Shanes's face when he called Bee’s alt-mode uncool

Got so angry when the stinger commercial called him old and ugly he kicked down the prototype

Is generally the most conspicuous bot to exist and is very bad at doing the blending-in thing given he's an Autobot scout

I’ll add more if I think of them but Bumblebee is just a tiny feral gremlin and I love him so very much. Each iteration of him is perfect

#transformers #bumblebee #transformers bumblebee #autobots #transformers one #Youtube

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azrielfiend · 3 months

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knights and their god damn capes

i cant animate the void one but imagine the effect behind gastly, shadowy mist/fog/steam thing.i dont know what its called so if you let me know i will love you /p

ramble below blah blah blah with additional drawings and inspirations and explainationsfor eachof the aspect if you care

i also couldnt animate the space effect well, but imagine something like asriels god of hyperdeath form with THAT effects on the wings. or giygas's background. i couldnt figure out how to repeat the image pattern so i hope it looks okay.

space players have a star pointed shape at the end of their cape, with of course the space overlay playing in it (do not say stolas cape i will kill you (im aware i probably took some inspiration from it subconciously but i hate that cunt)

light players are simple. theyre supposed to look like the sun

rage players have a sharp, spikes at the end of their shape. also the image isnt clear but the symbol is supposed to look like fangs here because oh my god rage is such a pain in the ass to draw.

doom players have the tattered/destroyed cape, self explantory. symbol is supposed to be the death symbol from alchemy, with added spikes from the og symbol

heart players have... Hearts.

hope players always have wings in their cloak/ribbon/cape thing, so i thought it would be fun to do it for the knight too. the symbol is changed to a light on top of a pair of wings. shown with the maid here:

time players have squares at the end of the cape, i still love the fanon interpretation of it so i included it here. actually i forgot the actual canon designs dont have the cog-like shape lolol

life players have a bush-like texture to it. like a bunch of leaves sticking to the cape. it could probably grow flowers too but im not depicting them here. the symbol is changed to a nicer green with a dna strip

like i said, voids have a gastly shadowy effect in the cape. i also changed the void symbol to a black hole because it feels more fitting and different from space.

thats all. im not doing the entire aspect wheel since im tired and i dont really have a use for them or i couldnt think of something creative to add to it. feel free

#my art #homestuck #hom3stuck #classpect #classpects #knight of space #knight of light #knight of rage #knight of doom #knight of heart #knight of hope #knight of time #knight of life #knight of void #fantroll #fantrolls #redesign #trollsona

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voxmortuus · 10 months

Text

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Yandere!Count Vronsky x F!Reader!Wife ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Anna Karenina ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 3.6k ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ This was given to me by the lovely @bettytaylorversion || Okay, okay I'm lately obsessed with yandere Count Vronsky, so how about yan Vronsky suspecting that his wife is seeing someone or like in love with someone and it doesn't help when his mother keeps feeding his suspicions so he ends up locking the wife/reader up in their house in countryside/ another country house where no one can reach them and where he makes sure his beloved wife knows exactly how much he loves her. ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ Dead Dove Do Not Eat | Yandere Count | Possessive Count | Aggressive Count | Stalker Count | Demanding Count | Accusations of Cheating | Toxic Mother | False ideas | False Suspicions from mother | Toxic Marriage? | Isolation of Reader | Slapping | Pushing or Shoving | Yelling | Slamming doors | Gripping readers throat | Passionate making out | Throwing reader on bed | Stripping reader | Unprotected PiV | Aggressive sex | Reader fights a bit but stops fighting | Dub-Con? | insinuated Cream Pie | Crying Reader | Fluff | Reader questions if she loves him at the end | Relationship conflictions | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I've been wanting to write for him for a long while! Thank you love for this request! I hope this is along the lines of what you were hoping for... Sorry if it doesn't hit exactly what you're looking for but I tried!!! Anywho.... I hope this brings you some joy. ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ TIME PASSER DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @voxmortuus ✧*̥˚ IMAGE CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @peachyspaceslvt ✧*̥˚ ATJ TAGLIST: *̥˚✧ @earth-elemental18 @nyxvuxoa-writes ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧

It was this gnawing feeling, this feeling of dread, sorrow, a pain in his gut he couldn't shake. Watching you go as he leaned against the window frame, he knew where you were going. He knew, he just had this gut feeling that he couldn't quite shake. It ate at his heart, it ate at his brain, it was like these cogs and wheels working, but not in a way of rationality. His thoughts were completely irrational. Looking out that window as your carriage vanished into the thick fog of the dawn, he felt so lost, so angry. He wasn't happy, and not happy may be quite an understatement.

Placing a hand-rolled cigarette between his lips he grabbed a match from the fireplace and lit it. The smoke bellowed above, tossing the match into the fire he turned to see his mother sitting at the table.

"She does not have love for you anymore, Alexei." She stated. Her tone appeared caring, honest, maybe even having pity, but it was just because she didn't like you.

"She must love me. That is my wife, she must." He stated he didn't seem demanding about it, he seemed sad, heartbroken even.

"But she does not. She will never love you as she loves him. What married woman is happy with her husband? She has grown bored of you. Had she not she would not go to him as she does." She points out.

His heart, if it was a glass a cat had pushed off the counter it would have shattered. He only hoped that you were as enraptured by him as he was about you. He looked up at the wall, the painting of you seemed to be watching. He closed his stormy blue eyes and looked back at his mother.

"She does love me. I know it to be true. You speak lies, like a snake in the garden." He snapped and walked to the table and had taken a sip from the slightly sweetened tea he had poured only moments before your leaving. Sitting there he tapped his smoke against a small crystal ashtray and his mind became overrun, thinking of everything his mother had stated. Thinking of those possibilities. What were you doing? Were you spreading your legs for him? Was he satisfying you? Were you unhappy with him? Did you not love him? Did you grow bored of him? He rubbed his lip a moment as he took another drag before looking at his mother.

"When she comes home, I will settle this." He stated. Taking the cup and his almost-gone smoke and had vanished to the bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed after putting the cup on the bedside table and looks over your side of the bed. It was too much, these feelings he had, it was like they were just bubbling up, ready to overflow and put out the fire that kept the pot lit. Feeling the stinging in his nose from the slight anger he ran his hand through his curly blonde locks and his jaw clenched as he put his smoke out in the ashtray and grabbed his clothes for getting dressed before he slammed the bedroom door.

His mother had heard the slam and had made her way to the room. Letting herself in she looked over him and sighed. "I just want what is best for you."

"I said I would take care of it. I do not need your help. She is my wife, not yours." He sort of snapped.

"You are right, she is your wife. And your wife is off with another man, spreading her legs and enjoying her time away from you. So how are you going to handle that Alexei?" She asked.

"I will take her away from here. I will take her far away from everyone. Including you." He snapped. "Now if you do not mind, I am getting dressed. Go find something else to bother." He snarled slightly as he escorted her out of the doorway and closed and locked the bedroom door.

Looking out the bedroom window and looking over the garden, he watched the flowers bob from the heaviness of the heads that were filled with the morning dew. It was something so simple, and yet even looking at their beauty, he saw you, he saw your smile, your smooth skin, your curves, he saw how your hair fell, that glow in your eyes when you were happy. You had to love him, why was he questioning it? Why was he standing there, looking out on those flowers questioning if you loved him?! With a clenched jaw and a knitted brow, he threw open the closet door and grabbed his attire for the day.

After fastening the last button on his coat, he makes his way back to the kitchen- it's like he doesn't want to acknowledge the other parts of the home without you here. Feeling lost, and one track minded. He didn't like that you were gone, it loomed over him like a dark cloud heavy with rain looms over the dirt countryside roads. He needed to know where you were going. He needed to know what you were doing. He needed to know what you were saying. Were you tired of him? Were you unhappy? It just gnawed at him like a beaver gnawing on a log.

Why was this even a feather of a thought? It's not that he didn't want you to have friends, it's just, why did they have to be male friends? And even then, it wasn't the idea of male friends that bothered him, it was the embedded, plated thoughts from the snake in the garden that made him believe that you were unhappy, that you were not in love with him any longer, that you were looking for a way out of this relationship. Well, that was going to be nipped in the bud right away. There was going to be no second-guessing it, not after this.

He decided to gather himself a little more and decided to head out to find you. He had these questions that needed answers. He turned to look at his mother who was still there. "Watch the house while I am away. We will be gone for a while." He states. His mother went to speak but before she could retort with a comment he was out the door and off to the stables.

After a few hours of looking and getting a general idea of where you were he stopped, getting off the carriage he approached, standing a good distance behind as you stood there, talking to another man. Oh, this did not sit well with him, but he watched and observed. With a lick of his lips and a look of heartache, as you touched the other man's face, he couldn't help but feel that slithering snake of a mother of his was right.

The more he watched, the more you laughed, the closer this man seemed to be getting to you, and the more it climbed up him like ivy claiming lattice fencing. This green envious monster coils around his every nerve, his nostrils flair as he walks toward you and clears his throat, but you don't pay much attention until he grabs your arm and pulls you to him.

You gasp and look over his face. "My Love, what are you doing here?" You ask him.

"I could ask you the very same." He states. His stare was cold, his stare pained, and his stare… it bore into you like a hot glue gun into plastic.

"I am just out with a friend, we do this every week. It means nothing." You state honestly.

"Does it? Does it really mean nothing? You were touching his face, and laughing with him like you do with me. Do I not make you happy anymore? Have you grown bored and weary of me?" He asks you with a small shake in his voice almost as if holding back tears.

"Of course you make me happy, why would you ask such a thing?" you respond back looking into his stormy blue hues.

His jaw clenches and he looks at your friend and back to you. "We are leaving." He states as if dismissing you from your date with your male friend.

"What? No. Alexei, no." you stated.

"I do not know him, nor do I like how you were touching him, we are going somewhere. You'll like it. Get in." he states and gestures to the carriage.

"Alexei, no." You state firmly.

He clenches his jaw and looks over you. "Do not make me put you in there myself. Now. Be a good wife, and get in the carriage." He snarls lowly.

Licking your lips you look over his face and let out a slight breath before getting into the carriage. Feeling the shake of the carriage from the door closing. Placing your hands in your lap you look down, studying them a moment before you close your eyes almost in defeat, and wonder where he is taking you. It was clear he wasn't taking you home. Why was he suddenly acting this way? What was it that made him feel like you were unhappy? You began to study yourself, you even began to question yourself. But why? His actions alone.

His actions just then made you question if this was really where you needed to be. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that maybe he was seeing something you were not seeing. Were you really happier with your friend than you were with him? Was he not seeing how much you loved him? Were you really doing something bad? You turn back and look at him as he stops the carriage and climbs into the back of it with you as someone else takes over. Someone he had paid to drop you both off and take the carriage back to the house.

You sit there, in silence, and you study him, you study his face, his eyes, how his jaw twitches, how his brow knits, how his eyes seem to be full of sorrow, and maybe is that hate? You look down, and you think about all you've done, but you can't help but shake your head. You love this man, and he was blind to false things. Was there a way to fix it? Was there a way to get him to see that you love him just as much as he loves you?

"Where are we going? There is nothing for miles." You point out looking out the little window of the carriage door.

"We're going someplace secluded." He states.

"Secluded? Whatever for?" You ask with a slight bit of worry in your tone.

"Enough with the questions, you will see when we get there." He states, short in his tone.

You lick your lips and hike a brow before looking back down at your lap and letting out a slight sigh. You feel this could get problematic.

By the time you get to where you were going, the sun had already set and come back up. You look over his face as he offers to help you off the carriage. Your jaw clenches and you shake your head.

"Are you serious? Why are we here? We are days away from home at this rate Alexie." You point out.

HE shakes his head and looks at you and looks over the country home before looking back at you. "You will survive. This is for a reason."

"THIS IS ABSURD!" You scream. The only thing you cause to stir is birds out in the field. Your jaw clenches and you look over him shoving past him and heading toward the inside.

He sighs slightly and shakes his head, he isn't expecting you to understand. Rubbing his brow a moment he looks up at the gray skies and then over on the vast rolling fields of nothing. A small smile creeps across his face as he listens to the front door being slammed. Another soft sigh escapes his lips as he heads toward the house.

Upon walking in he looks around and spots you standing there in the living room. As he walks toward you to join you, you turn and look at him.

"What is all of this about?" You ask.

"You need to see how much love I have for you. I cannot do that back there." He stated honestly.

"So you isolate me?!" You raise your tone.

"Yes! It keeps you away from another man touching you!" He snaps.

"NO ONE ELSE IS TOUCHING ME!" You snap back.

"HOW DO I KNOW?!" He steps closer to you.

"No. You don't get to ask me that question! How do you not see that I love you!? I have always loved you!" You snarl as you step forward challenging him.

"Well, I suppose now you can show me just how much you love me as I show you how much I love you." He stated coldly.

"Don't be so pigeon-livered." You growl to yourself. "You're being a floozer Alexei. What has ever gotten into you?" You ask him.

"Are you really going to throw insults at me? Pigeon-livered? Floozer? Do not." He grips your arm and pulls you close. "Do not cross me."

You shove him and look over his face. "Or what?" You ask with a tightly knitted brow. "What are you going to do?"

Stretching his neck from left to right he licks his lips and his jaw clenched.

"WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!" You snapped.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?!" He snapped back. He began to pace. "All I ever do is shower you with love and attention, I do nothing but prove to you how much you mean to me. I make sure you always put your best forward. And you do this. Run off with another man doing god knows what." He states.

Crossing your arms over your chest you stare at him a moment and blink a few times. "Are you blinded by your own selfishness right now? Can you not see past your own nose? I am not laying with another man Alexei! I have never laid with another man!" you snap.

"HOW DO I KNOW THAT?!" He snaps. "How do I know that?" He asked you. A complete and utter look of defeat sprawled across his features.

Walking to him you slap him across the face. Not once, but twice. Reaching forward he grips your throat and moves you through the house. Kicking open a door he shoves you into the bedroom and starts to unbutton his jacket. Looking over you his eyes hungry. His snarl was fierce, his jaw clenched so hard you could hear the bones grinding and you could feel the flex of his jaw. You try to shove past him but that wasn't happening.

"What are you going to do rape me Alexei?" You ask.

He scoffed and looked over at you. "Do you think that little of me? Strip." He demands.

"No." You cross your arms. At this point, you were fighting him to fight, how far could you push?

"I said strip!" He demands again. Walking to you he spins you around and starts to untie your skirt.

Layer by layer you fight, until you are both stripped down to mere thin layers. Tears staining your face, you look over him and shake your head, a small thumping sound of your heart feeling like it was echoing in the room.

"All I have ever wanted was for you to love me. You have to love me, you must love me." He states. He steps closer to you, looking over you he grips your face and pulls you near. "You will love me. You will." He states firmly.

Scared at this point you cannot find your words. He presses his lips to yours and at first, you give in, you cave, you wrap your arms around him and kiss him deeply, lovingly, longing for that affection he wanted to give you, but then you start to push away, saddened by the fact that he couldn't believe you, that he had no trust in you.

"No…" You start to push away, but you didn't want him to at the same time, it was this conflicting feeling.

"Do not tell me no, you want this…" he points out as he listens to your breathing.

You have no means of responding.

"I'm not taking that as a no." he states.

You give him a cold stare, looking over his face, his lips press against yours and you shove him back, and he throws you to the bed. You bounce once before he climbs on top of you and looks you over. He tilts his head and looks over your face and takes your wrists and places them above your head and looks over your face intently.

You attempt to wiggle free but he hovers over you, his body pressed against yours. In one hand he has your hands gripped together, in the other hand hikes up your skirt, he looks over you, and he leans in and nips at your lips. Your breathing becomes heavier, and you close your eyes. Shaking your head you begin to breathe heavier. It felt good, his hands on you, it always felt good, but there was this sense of fight that also washed over you.

As his lips found your neck he kissed up your neck to your jaw, finding your lips. While you loved his affection, you were terrified. Literally scared of him.

"Get off of me." you demand.

"Let me show you. See how much I love you." He takes your hand and places it on his hard cock. "This is how much I love you." He states.

You pull your hand away and turn your head in another direction. His senses overwhelm him, and unable to control himself he groans softly as he presses himself against you. You turn your head away from him, maybe checking out, but at the same time ever so present in this moment. As he thrusts himself into you you take in a deep breath. A whimper leaves your lips as a groan leaves his.

Looking over you he observes your features as he turns your face to look at him, leaning in he kisses you again. And it was then you cave, just a little. Your lips pressed against his, your hand moved up his arms to his hair and you pull him closer. Your hips roll against his thrusts and you begin to whimper against his lips. The feeling of him against you was something you always loved. Truthfully you never questioned this man's love for you. But you were conflicted because of how he was coming at you. You didn't know if you should fight him, or cave to him a little more.

The more he thrusts the harder he becomes in his motions, the more you fight. But the more you fight, the more he growls, it was a conflicting feeling all over again and you aren't sure what to do, it was overwhelming. You push him away, shoving him but he pulls you closer.

Feeling your body flush against his you let out another soft whimper. You move your hands to his shoulders as you feel him thrust deeper into you, your moans escaping you were almost pained but yet pleasure-filled. Your hips rolled against his as he continued to thrust with a fever. He pulls you even closer to him, pulling you into his lap as he guides you along his stiffened cock, nuzzling into you, nipping and biting at you.

The moans fill the bedroom, bouncing off the windows and the walls, and while you might be fighting him because of his choice of actions, this man was your life. You kiss him deeply as you both moan in pure pleasure. Your bodies collide in such a raw motion. Thrust after thrust, grunt, and groan after grunt and groan, screams of pure euphoria leaving you both. It all came to a halt with a trembling body-shaking finish, feeling as his cock twitched inside of you as hot ribbons of seed coat your velvet walls. He snarled against your skin, and you bring a hand across his face, and you begin to cry.

Holding you close, he looks down at you, smoothing your hair he presses his face against you.

"Shh… now now, everything is alright. I love you, so much." He whispers. "You have to love me back, you just have to." he says softly.

"I… I do love you, Alexei. I do. I wish you would see that." you say between sniffles.

He holds you close, nuzzling against you. "Shall we draw you a bath?" He asks.

Nodding your head he looks over your face and nods. "I shall draw you a bath. Think about what I said." He states.

"Are you isolating me? From everyone?" you ask as he gets up and slips his pants back on.

With a firm stare, he looks over you. "I am, and it's for our own good. You won't be seeing him, we will stay here as long as it takes." He states truthfully.

And like that, your heart becomes conflicted, you love this man, but you feel scared of this man… but then you look at him, and you don't feel afraid anymore. You just want him to see that you do love him. It's conflicting, and it's terrifying, you love him, but is it true? Staying here, you're only choice is to grow to love him. But that's been his goal all along, for you to love him, and for him to show you in so many ways how he loves you.

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thefiresofpompeii · 3 months

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i love you time loops i love shifting architecture i love you haunted castles i love you brooding i love you stories as a life raft parables as a means of survival i love you incomprehensibly inconcievably long temporal intervals i love you determination i love you devotion i love you minotaur in the labyrinth love you trying again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again. dying and dying and dying and dying and dying and still nothing feels worse than having lost your best friend but you can't give up, not now, not ever, how can you? the narrative in the shape of a girl declares that you're going to win. you could never do anything else. i love you gothic medieval architecture i love you cogs and gears and rusted machinery i love you RELIGIOUS IMAGERY i love you however long it takes however dark however deep however alone i love you

i love you METAPHORS FOR GRIEF!! the pain of losing someone you cared for feels like it lasts an eternity and it is an eternity. it feels as if you're a broken record, spinning round and round (like a circle in a spiral like a wheel within a wheel) but however many seconds in that eternity, however many years it takes to move on, to seek a future beyond the prison of your mind – it feels like billions for each and every one of us, as ghost clara says: "you're not the first person to ever have lost someone".

every grieving person is stuck in their own confession dial. an endless fruitless unceasing loop of guilt. what could i have done? what could i have done? what could i have done?

but however long it takes, it is not forever. nothing can possibly remain the same forever. simple physics. entropy. everything decays, even grief. piece by piece, word by word, bird by bird. this hole you dig is not your grave. get up. pull yourself out of the pit. even diamond is subject to erosion.

#capital C Cinema.#heaven sent #doctor who #dw #jamie.txt #peter capaldi #twelfth doctor #twelve #clara oswald #doctor who series 9 #doctor who meta #doctor who analysis #grief #twelveclara #whouffaldi #the shepherd's boy

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noisycroissant · 3 months

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As You Wish

Astarion x Female Tav

It had been six months of domesticity. Six months spent setting up a home in the Underdark, teaching wayward, borderline feral vampire spawn to be "human" again. Six months of organising books and scrolls and knick-knacks pilfered along your travels.

The first six months of peace Astarion had known in two centuries.

And then the letter had come and everything changed.

********

He'd sensed something was wrong on their journey back from the get-together. He could feel Tav's brain churning, the cogs and wheels that made her brain so brilliant turning and spinning with anxiety.

The dread in his belly bloomed the longer she said nothing was wrong.

Of course everything was wrong. It was him, wasn't it? Six months she'd been cloistered away and now she'd seen the others and he'd bet his best set of lock-picking tools that that wizard had somehow succeeded in charming his way into her heart.

He hated himself for thinking the last part. Tav wouldn't. Not his beloved Tav. Tav promised to love him and be loved by him forever. He shouldn't think so lowly about her.

But then why in god's name does she seem miles away from him?

*******

Astarion knew that she wasn't reading. Sure the book was open, her fingers held the next page ready, but she'd been staring at the same paragraph for the last ten minutes.

She'd been holed up in her study since they'd returned. It was the first time in the two days since they'd been back that he'd been able to coax her into coming to bed with him.

This had to end. So he decided to do something he'd promised himself he'd never do again.

He gently kissed her shoulder, "Tav?"

Another kiss. And another, moving to her neck. "Taav..." he whispers, grazing the shell of her ear with a sharp fang, "Sweetheart, I've been so lonely..."

"Mmhm, yes dear, give me a moment, I'll be right with you," says Tav as she moves to sit up.

And the dam fucking burst in his chest.

He jumps up and kneels in front of Tav, grabbing her hands, tears filling his deep-set eyes, anger stopping them from spilling over.

"What did I do?! Tell me what I did! Please!! I'm sorry. Whatever it was that I did, I'm so sorry."

Tav's face changes from surprise to confusion to realisation.

"Oh? OH! Oh sweetheart," she says, hugging him, bringing his head to her chest, "You've done nothing wrong. Oh my dearest, I'm so sorry... I've been mulling over something, I never knew I was hurting you! Astarion, my darling, I'm sorry I let you think you did something to hurt me. Won't you forgive me?" Tav presses kisses into his soft hair while hugging him tighter.

The relief that washed over him was indescribable. He hadn't done anything. Of course Tav would tell him if he had. They'd promised each other no more secrets. This is what trust is. He had to trust her to tell him whatever it was that was bothering her; he could take it.

"Tell me what's been bothering you. Please, Tav... I..need to know," he asks, holding her face and looking into her eyes.

*******

"So you miss travelling?"

"Not just that, Astarion. I miss it all! Not knowing where tomorrow will take us, who we're going to meet, where we'd be bunking for the night...And all the new things to learn out there. The books, the scrolls, the secret chambers under some shady tavern!"

"Next you'll tell me you miss eating four apples and stale toast for dinner," Astarion deadpans, moving to hold Tav closer under the quilts.

"I sort of do actually," Tav replies sheepishly.

"What I cannot understand is why? Look what we have, Tav. A home. A spawn family of sorts."

Tav strokes his cheek as she replies, "Before the tadpole...before you...my life was so.. plain. Just reading and taking notes and helping with experiments in that stuffy tower. The occassional trip to Candlekeep. And then everything happened. You happened. I cannot stop thinking how it would be if it were just us going on our own adventure. What would we find? Who would we help? What would we learn?"

"What shiny things would we steal?" Astarion offers helpfully.

"Of course! I mean...we do need to get by. Can't carry all our money around and risk getting mugged," Tav shoots back, a glint in her eye.

"As if anyone could mug us," Astarion scoffs.

"Do you remember our first time? Down by that clearing near the Grove?"

"You mean your first time," Astarion corrects you saucily.

"Oh hush! I remember looking up at you, you hair contrasted with the dark sky, all those stars like a child had flung sugar. And your face. I remember thinking how beautiful the view was. How a mediocre sorcerer ended up seeing something so beautiful was beyond me."

Astarion moves to straddle Tav, his face inches away from hers, "You are anything but mediocre. You're brilliant, amazing, a genius even, dare I say it. You saved us all. You saved...me." He kisses her fiercely as if to prove his point.

******* A month later *******

Astarion watches as Tav moves above him. Sweet moans bubble up her throat as she chases her release, her hands gripping his shoulders harder the closer she gets. He sucks a finger and moves it to her clit, gently circling it, and watches as his beloved comes undone.

Her beautiful face in contrast to the dark sky and sugar-flung stars.

"That is a sight to remember," he murmurs to himself as he holds Tav closely, listening to her heart beat for him.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x tav #astarion smut #astarion x female tav #bg3 tav #baldurs gate tav #bg3 smut

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ravixen · 6 months

Note

hey if its not much may i ask svt and prioritizing their s/o for the rest of the members? i think that's hoshi, dino, vernon and jun thank you so much! btw I love your work its written so well!!

svt + prioritizing their s/o (pt 3)

➔ reaction || requested

➔ warnings: brief food mention || 0.9k words ➔ notes: fluff ; thank you so much for your patience! it's been like two months...I've been so busy lately :') and the stress hasn't been helpful when it comes to writing, but I'm slowly figuring things out at work and I'm excited to wrap up these reactions. thank you for loving my posts—I hope that you'll reblog them :)

JUNHUI: it's his day off, and he should be sleeping...according to you, at least. if you ask him, though, he'd tell you that he's doing exactly what he should be doing, and that's taking care of you. when he crawled into bed—at some ungodly hour that he half paid attention to—you were still on your laptop, typing away at a slideshow that only half of your coworkers will care about. he doesn't know what time you finally slid into bed with him, but it felt like seconds between you accidentally jostling him awake and his alarm blaring beside his ear. time to get up, he thinks to himself, but there's no inward sigh, no lamenting the fact that he's just another cog in the wheel. no, this morning, he wakes up light on his feet and slips out of the blanket as quietly as he can. then he gets to work. plugs in your laptop again because he knows that the battery is old and loses charge overnight. re-organizes your shoes so that the other pairs are put away and your lucky pair is right by the door, ready for you to put on. tucks a granola bar into the side of your bag as a surprise because you always check there first for your pens. jun is a quiet lover, one that melts into the crevices of your life and makes you remember that you are loved.

SOONYOUNG: "pass me your plate," he says, looming over the table with an outstretched hand. "how much do you want?" he keeps his other hand on the rotating turntable, preventing it from moving, and you want to shrink in your seat with how everyone's eyes land on you. there's no judgment, but you still feel the warmth of embarrassment. "just a little bit of everything," you murmur, fiddling with your chopsticks as he obliges. no one makes a fuss about it, and as soon as he sets your plate down, he takes a seat and lets everyone get food before he serves himself. he's the type to put himself last when it comes to these things, preferring to take care of the younger ones before himself, but it'll be a cold day in hell before he lets you do the same. you tried to sit out once, patiently waiting for the boys to get their fill before you dug in. at the time, you didn't realize that they never really stop eating. as soon as soonyoung noticed you hovering at the edge, unsure of how to jump in, he started swatting away hands so that you help yourself. now he's taken it upon himself to always serve you first, even though you tell him that he doesn't have to do it. he doesn't respond. he just plucks food from his plate and puts it on yours, and you realize that you'll never win this argument.

VERNON: he always opens and responds to the links you send in a timely fashion. sometimes it's just a haha, maybe an emoji, and other times it's a quick paragraph of his thoughts. to be honest, this is such an overlooked act of love because it takes a lot of energy to watch something when you're tired and busy—and you know he's tired and busy—but he pushes through for you. "you can watch it later," you tell him once. you just sent him an Instagram reel about cats, and two minutes later, you hear the audio coming from his phone. he just shrugs and reacts to it with a laughing emoji, even though he kept a straight face the whole time. "I might forget later," he says, reaching over to pinch your cheek, and leaves it as his only explanation, as if it's truly as simple as that. you can't bring yourself to do the same, though, and he's understanding when you finally respond to his links a week later, spamming his notifications. "sorry for the late response," you say at the very end, but he doesn't let you feel bad about it. when your thoughts and emotions are preoccupied, even a thirty second meme feels like an energy sapper and he gets it. he just does things because they're no big deal to him, but he doesn't want you to feel obligated to reciprocate.

CHAN: he's on his feet as soon as you need something. sometimes, it seems like he's his group's little errand boy, but no, he loves doing things for the important people in his life. (honestly, the entire group is if "acts of service" were people.) regardless of where you are—be it beside him or across the room—he always keeps an eye on your expressions and body language. "hey, chan, have you seen my—" you glance around your feet. "water?" in moments, he's at the table, pouring you another glass. "you put your cup away earlier." it's little things like this that make you feel appreciated, but you wonder if it's too much at times. not for you, but for him—is he really enjoying himself if he's always trying to take care of you? "of course," he says when you ask. he's in the middle of rolling up your sleeves since he noticed them dropping. when he's earnest like this, you can see the adoration in his gaze. if you address this in public, though, he just hides a chuckle, swiping his nose with his thumb. a confident hair flick as he says, "all in a day's work for the world's best boyfriend." the fake smugness all crumbles when you agree with him, though. he'll just sink his face into his hands with a few wait a minute's between giggles.

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meanbossart · 2 months

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its funny looking between his former fixation (orin) and current one (astarion) and noticing he has a very obvious 'type'. what made him so taken with orin, though? what did he like about her? did he not have any initial misgivings? was he ever concerned she might turn on him?

B)c Please know how happy it made me to finally have someone spell this out lmao. It's absolutely true, at least within the dynamic that DU drow shared with each of them; there are a lot of parallels to be found between Orin and Astarion.

The tough part of this question however, is that I have a very difficult time pinning Orin down. She's easily the most elusive character out of the Chosen, and while I understand this Is likely a consequence of being underwritten, I also see a certain charm in a character who's lack of development is part of their tragedy - whose story is very much about not being allowed much individuality of their own, and having no resolution. I think this is a space worth playing in.

I couldn't tell you what the hell Orin likes, what she was like besides blood-thirsty and deranged. I can barely fathom her sitting down to have a conversation with someone. Think about it - she was raised from childhood in the Bhaal temple, both her parent's were faithful servants and she was essentially groomed from birth to be either Bhaal's Chosen, the Dark Urge's consort, or a sacrificial lamb. Nobody had ANYTHING to gain from allowing her to develop any humanity.

Of course, this doesn't mean she doesn't have any, deep inside. We see glimpses of it in fairly difficult-to-get dialogue regarding her origins during act 3. My very vague take on Orin is that she was a determined and persistent person who learned to make her circumstances work for her as best as she could, who had a strong sense of her boundaries but a horrifically difficult time differentiating between negative emotions - this is why I personally don't even know whether she """"led DU drow on""" our of malice or self-preservation. Perhaps she didn't know either - I think whenever Orin felt sadness, discomfort, anger or even happiness or love, she found a way to turn it into bloodlust and sadism, every time.

And it's in part this elusiveness that would have attracted DU drow. What did Astarion have to do to get DU drow to pursue him? He had to feign disinterest, he had to pull away - the fact that Orin never allowed DU drow to get close enough to truly know her plays a significant part in how unhealthy his attachment for her became.

That said, this was a long game - he did become infatuated pretty much from the moment he saw her when they were both teenagers. This is a much simpler concept to understand - he was profoundly emotionally inept and neglected, and she was probably the prettiest thing he ever laid eyes on, not to mention the only other person in the temple close to him in age.

Truth is, they did have a lot in common on the very basis of having been so thoroughly stripped of their humanities, but It was a closeness born entirely from circumstance - the implied vulnerability in the type of life they shared together, even if they never spoke about feelings or shared what normal people would qualify as a "sweet" moment. They didn't really use their words, and when they did, they were like daggers - twisted murder sibling banter.

But when they had to work together it was very different. They played off each each other like match and friction, like two fitted cogs turning a wheel. There must have been nothing that swelled DU drow's heart more than when they killed together, perhaps even more than when Orin hurt him. He loved seeing her in her element and yearned for nothing more but to be let into the joy she found in it.

He Never had any misgivings. He always thought she would come around (to him) eventually. He was completely and entirely blind to how much her resentment towards him grew throughout the years, how he lost a sister through wanting a lover.

#ask #du drow lore #orin the red #bg3 spoilers #durge/orin

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her-satanic-wiles · 6 months

Text

October 28th

Free Use, Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 3.3k.

Warnings: Free use; mean but caring dom!Copia; public nudity; glove kink; vaginal fingering; orgasm denial; degradation; face-sitting; cunnilingus; dry humping; piv; vaginal sex; unprotected sex; exhibitionism; praise kink (hello, it me, emotionally unavailable but wants intimacy); animalistic; dubcon (if you squint real hard);

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog @saturnhas82moons

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Papa’s dressing room was loud to say the least, with siblings running around to make sure all of his belongings were packed back up into their rightful suitcases, and Ghouls taking care of themselves. You were ready to go, all of your things packed away and loaded into the van early as possible so you wouldn’t disturb the siblings who actually had things to do, thus, you stood in the corner of the room and prayed to Satan that no one needed anything that was on the table next to you. You would have left the room and gone to a quieter place, or even waited in the van had it not been for one very important detail: Papa Copia.

Papa needed to know where you were at all times, no exceptions, no changes, do not pass go, do not collect $200. You were a vital cog in his life’s wheel, a necessary person to keep with him, and answering to no one but him. You were his best friend, his confidante, his lover… and, as he liked to call you, his “reverse stress ball”; reverse because you squeezed the stress out of him. Stress or worry… he pumped in negativity, you released positivity.

Turns out, someone did need the stuff that you were standing in front of, and once again you were in the way. One of the older sisters, who was new to touring with Papa, practically shoved you out the way. “Go stand outside, lovely.” She told you.

“I can’t, I-”

“I don’t care about your excuses, you’re in the way and you have to move.”

And so, you were being pushed out the door and into the oncoming traffic of stage hands and assistants, despite your protests. The corridor was even worse than the dressing room, and you were pulling some serious Matrix moves in order to stay out of people’s way and find somewhere quiet to stand. You eventually found a small pocket of air to breathe in, but it didn’t last very long, it just gave you enough time to pull your phone out and shoot Papa a quick text, and even try to call him. But he didn’t respond to either. And so, you were forced further down the corridor and into a broom closet where you were able to finally rest and de-stress yourself.

Time ticked on in the darkness of the broom closet, and eventually the hustle and bustle of the busy Siblings had dwindled down to mere footsteps of lone people wandering about the venue. No more were wheels rolling against the tiled floors, and thus, you deemed it safe to return to Papa’s dressing room, unaware of just what was waiting there for you.

The hustle and bustle of the stage hands may have died down, but Papa’s Ghouls were in a frantic mess which was only relieved by your entrance to the dressing room. Their masks hid the look of relief on their faces, but they expressed it through deep sighs and hands flying to their hearts.

“Oh, thank Lucifer you’re back!” Cirrus exclaimed.

Aurora, “And that you’re safe!”

Phantom, “Papa is furious. He couldn’t find you.”

You, “Where is he now?”

Phantom shrugged, which sparked Dewdrop to pipe up, “Somewhere looking for you, I’d imagine.”

You, “I tried getting in touch with him several times, but he wasn’t answering the phone.”

Cirrus, “Yeah well, that’s Papa for you.”

“Did he really not say where he was going?”

Cumulus, “I know he had to go back to the stage, but I can’t tell you that he’s still there.”

Dew, “I’ll go find him and then text someone if he’s still there. I think, sister, it would be best if you stayed here until we know for sure.”

When the text arrived that Papa was still on the arena floor, in a meeting with another Sibling, you practically sprinted all the way there. The longer Papa was without you, the angrier he’d get. He didn’t have a bad temper - he wasn’t particularly frightening or inconsiderate of your own feelings. In fact, in all the years you’d known him, you only ever heard him raise his voice in anger twice. Usually, he was a calm, rational man who would take himself off to calm down and then address the irritation with a clear head and logical reasoning. But you weren’t where he’d left you - he needed you to be where he left you.

That was never more apparent than when he saw you for the first time since the show ended, paints cracked and smeared from sweat and hair slicked back with the same substance, tousled from exertion and probably worry. His eyes flickered with a range of emotions; fear, relief, then rage. He stopped the Sibling from talking by raising his hand (uncharacteristically rudely) and stormed over to you.

“Papa, I-”

His gloved hands wrapped around your biceps and he held you at arm’s length, examining your clothed body for imperfections or injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“No, Papa.”

“Did anyone frighten you?”

“No, Papa.”

“Mentally and emotionally, are you okay?”

“Mostly, Papa.”

“Percentage, schricchio.”

“Ninety, Papa.”

“Then where the fuck did you go?”

“I’m sorry, Papa!” You explained to him the situation from start to finish, leaving out only the older Sibling’s name which you didn’t know. The look of fury on his face was unlike anything you had ever seen before.

“What did I tell you when you first came on tour with me?”

“I answer only to you, Papa. I know but-”

“Don’t ‘but’ me, schricchio!”

“I tried calling you but-”

“Back talk? Really?”

You averted your eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry, Papa.”

“Barricade, now.”

“What?”

“Barricade.”

“But, Papa, I-”

“Do not make me ask you again.”

He practically frog marched you over to one of the remaining pieces of the barricade that had been left by the venue workers who were clearing away. He positioned you against it so that your elbows were using it for support and pulled your hips out so that your ass was placed at the perfect and accessible angle. That was when you’d noticed that all eyes had been on you both the entire time, watching Papa scolding you and putting you in a precarious position. You hated the feeling, knowing that their scrutinising eyes were judging every single thing you did while also hoping that they could stay for a show. But there was a part of you, deep down - way down - that loved the idea that they were hoping they could stay for a show. There was something so animalistic about the way Papa would take you in front of, at most, one hundred people. Like he was claiming you for his own and showing the world just who the fuck you belonged to.

“Um, Papa?”

“Eh?”

You gestured to the audience that had now gathered around the arena and Papa sighed, exasperated by the nerve of some people. How dare they watch as he prepares to take you in the pit of a public place? “I am going to fuck my partner now,” he announced loudly, “I’d prefer it if you left, but I will be inside of her whether you are here or not.”

Swiss’ loud voice boomed from the corner of the room. “Alright, everyone, wrap it up. Take a twenty minute break or something, I don’t know. Let’s go!”

As people began filing out of the arena, Papa began making short work of your bottom half, pulling your jeans and panties all the way down. You weren’t entirely wet for him just yet, not as soaked as he would like, but he would rectify that soon enough. He spat on his leather glove, the sound of it echoing through the now empty arena and going straight to your cunt. He rubbed his saliva-covered gloves over your folds, artificially slicking them up for him to be able to sink himself into.

“You deliberately disobeyed me, schricchio.” He told you, rubbing circles over your clit and softly breaching your walls with his thumb. “You left your Papa wanting and waiting, didn’t you?” He tutted. The way the soft leather of his glove stroked over you felt like melted butter being poured onto your body. You sighed as the pleasure began to grow, your knees growing weak at the stimulation. “What should you say to your Papa?”

“I’m s-sorry, Papa!” You said, moans beginning to creep up and escape your throat as he applied more pressure to the fingers working over your clit.

“Do you think this is acceptable? Do you think only an apology is acceptable?”

“No, Papa.” In actuality, you did think that was acceptable. He got to use you now, didn’t he? What more could you do?

“Hmm.”

Papa remained quiet from that moment on, watching from behind you as your slick began to coat his hand and listening with fascination as your moans got louder. His thumb that was inside you, never went any deeper than the first knuckle, barely providing you with the right amount of pleasure and teasing your hole, stretching you, but ignoring the deep ache from within. He, occasionally, would let out the odd grunt or groan here and there, but for the most part he was laser focussed on your own pleasure, making sure you got everything you were now craving.

This was what he loved about fucking you: it never took you long to get as wet as he wanted or needed. He loved that he could take you at any point, and with just a little effort he could get you ready for him within minutes. That you would willingly spread your legs and beg for his cock to be deep inside you as if you’d been craving it all day, or that it was the only antidote to a deadly poison. It never seemed to matter which appendage he used on you, you would always be mewling for him and screaming for him to let you cum.

“P-Papa, I’m close!”

Papa, ever the lover of condescension in the bedroom, used that tone of voice with you. “Oh, you are? My little schricchio wants to cum on her Papa’s fingers?”

“Yes, Papa. Please!”

He stopped his ministrations and pulled his hand away. “No.”

Your eyes widened and you looked back at him. “No! Please!”

“You really think you deserve to cum after the shit you pulled today? Non ci posso credere. Sono deluso. I thought you knew better than this.”

Papa Copia, like most men, had a weakness: desperation. When you hung yourself off of him absolutely begging for anything, you knew you’d get your way eventually. And so, with this in mind, you dropped to your knees, your delicate skin hitting the cold, hard (and very dirty) concrete floor. You gripped onto Papa’s thick thighs clad in the tightest of skinny jeans as he’d not changed into his sweats yet, and began mouthing at the cloth over his deliciously hard cock. “Please, Papa. I’m so sorry for what I did. I should have listened to you. I should have listened to my Papa because he knows what’s best for his little slut.”

“Cazzo.” He muttered under his breath, watching you degrade yourself for him. He could almost pretend that you were worshipping him when you were doing this.

“Please give me your cock, Papa. Please let me make you feel good. I want you to fuck my tight, little cunt and fill me with your cum. Please, Papa.”

Resisting you was not a skill he had. He placed the same hand that was inside of you and now covered in your slick on your chin, and gently pushed you away from his cock. He forced you to look him in the eyes, and a brief gentility washed over his face as he drank in the way you looked; how sinfully innocent you looked right now for him, begging him to fuck you.

“H-hands and knees, schricchio.” He told you, the usual Papa jumping out for a moment as his voice was that sweet, soft timbre that you heard when he comforted you.

You, his obedient hole, did as asked, dropping to your hands and arching your back for him. You were hoping to tempt him into total distraction and give you enough time to make yourself cum. Papa walked behind you, dropped to his back, lying on top of the jeans around your ankles and pulling your hips down so you were sitting on his face and dove into your cunt, licking the sodden folds in front of him and his tongue playing with your sensitive clit. But as soon as his tongue was on you, it vanished, to be quickly replaced by two fingers poking at your entrance, sliding in without a fight and starting to work right away. Your position allowed his gloved fingers to curve upwards and strike the part of you that made you scream.

The squelch of your heat grew louder with his roughness as he started to finger you harder to amplify your cries as much as he could. He enjoyed the thought of other people hearing how good he was making you feel. You could feel yourself teetering on the brink from the way his fingers were moving inside of you and how forcefully he sucked on your clit. Upon the tightness, he pulled his fingers out of you and placed his hands on your ass cheeks, pushing you off of him. “Papa, no!” You howled. “Please!”

Papa laughed and wiggled his way from out under you. “I know your game, schricchio. Non vincerai.”

He got on his knees and began rubbing his clothed cock over your waiting hole, essentially dry humping you on the floor of the arena that he’d just performed in. He was doing the utmost to make you suffer. He wouldn’t do this for very long, given the roughness of his jeans and your sensitive clit, but when it wasn’t painful, it was very enjoyable. Infuriatingly taunting… but enjoyable.

When he decided he was bored of that, you heard the sound of him pulling at the strings that fastened his jeans closed. Papa didn’t wear underwear with these jeans - they were too tight and he said you could see the outline. He punished you for your cheek when you told him that he was slutting himself out for his congregation. Once his cock was free of its confines, he began rubbing it over your sensitive clit once more, earning much louder whines from your throat. At this point, you were tired of the teasing and just wanted to feel him deep inside you, but he knew this and had no intention of relieving you of your pain. Not yet, at least.

“This is hurting me just as much as it hurts you.” Papa told you, wrapping his hands around your hips and using them as leverage to thrust against you. “Papa wants to feel your sloppy cunt around his cock. Papa wants to fuck his toy after a hard day’s work. But his toy decided she wasn’t going to do her job.”

“I’m sorry, Papa. Please!”

“No, bella ragazza. You can do better than that.”

“Papa, I’m sorry for walking away. I want you to use me.”

“Try again.”

“I want you to fuck my tight cunt until I can’t breathe. Use my hole like it’s a toy to compensate for my bad behaviour. I’m yours to play with and use as you want. Please use me, Papa!”

He chuckled darkly. “See? Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Instead of waiting for your cunt to become accustomed to his size, he aligned himself with your hole and thrust all the way to the hilt. “Take it all.” He told you, his voice low and gravelly, laced with arousal that made you tightened around him.

He started working swiftly, snapping his hips against yours quickly and hitting that spot right behind your pussy, which made you scream every time. “Fuck, Papa!” You yelled. “I love it when you use me!”

Your ass jiggled more than usual as you arched your back for him once more and moved your hips to meet his thrusts. He let out a string of expletives in Italian, each one letting you know how much of a whore you were to him and how wicked your pussy felt. You must have been some kind of witch to cast a spell on him so, for he had never loved a cunt more than yours. He had never loved fucking someone more than he did you - how responsive your body was to him. It was beautiful.

Your own hand reached down to tickle your clit trying to move subtly and hoping he wasn’t watching you play with yourself. He was. He was just being evil.

“Schricchio, always so tight for me.” He observed the pussy cream collecting at the base of his cock. “You fucking love this don’t you? You love getting fucked in the middle of an arena, hanging off your Papa’s cock when anyone could come in and take a seat.” Your cunt tightened. “Puttana. You want someone to come in and watch, don’t you? Maybe I - Sathanas - maybe I should have done this on stage when the whole audience was here, hm? Used you in front of thousands.”

You rubbed your clit faster. Obviously you wouldn’t enjoy that in real life, but the thought of him taking you in front of everyone sent a shiver down your spine, and made your cunt tighten around his cock. Perhaps it was the taboo of it that got you off, or just the primal thought of being mounted and claimed in front of everyone. You couldn’t tell. But it definitely did something to you that you couldn’t deny.

“Keep squeezing me like that, schricchio, and I’ll cum too soon.”

A switch turned on a lightbulb moment in your head. You wouldn’t win? Try it. “I don’t know, P-Papa.” You said, trying to feign a more innocent voice through his thrusts that forced out moans. “I think you like that idea more than me. Fuck! I think you want to show everyone just how much you like fucking your toy. I think you want people to watch you claim what’s yours.”

“Cazzo!”

“The world already loves you, Papa. The Church loves you. They’d want to watch you bury yourself deep inside me.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You worked your hand faster. “Cum inside me, Papa. Give it to me. Give me everything, please!” Faster. Almost there.

Knowing what you were doing, Papa pulled your hand away from your clit and pushed your body down so you were completely flush to the floor. A few pumps later, and he was spilling his seed deep inside you, painting your walls white with himself. The noise that escaped him was like a feral animal, all deep growls and grunts as his rough thrusts came to a slow stop, all the while you were pinned to the floor, your orgasm ebbing away with each second that passed with no stimulation.

“Copia, you asshole!” You screeched from below him. You were angry, sure, but mostly frustrated. He would never usually leave you without an orgasm. But he pulled out of you before you insulted him, and had already got to his feet. He said nothing, just laughed at you as he tucked himself back into his jeans and made himself presentable.

“Well, a punishment is a punishment after all, no? What would you learn if I made you cum, hm? Stand up, schricchio. Let’s get you dressed.”

“Fuck off.”

“Ah-ah. Wouldn’t want me to take more orgasms off you, would you?”

You dressed yourself, hating the smug look on his fucked out face.

“I told you you wouldn’t win.”

“Vaffanculo!” You shouted, storming away.

Copia laughed again, knowing how later on tonight you’d be desperately humping against his thigh like a desperate slut begging for an orgasm… and how, after that display, he’d deny you again.

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

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cthulhusstepmom · 6 months

Text

"Gid we need to talk."

Well fuck.

It's far too early for a Kremy talk.

"You already spell the door shut?"

"You know I did."

With a long-suffering grumble Gideon settles further into the chair, body sore and muscles relaxed in that perfect, intoxicating, pleasure-drenched way that inevitably chases a night of questionable decisions. The mug of strong black coffee on the table in front of him steams, almost too hot even for him.

He can feel a pair of piercing yellow eyes trailing over his neck and shoulders, can feel the quiet disapproval like a stinging rash.

"She got you good hmm?"

"If she didn't her friend certainly did." Gideon chuckles, suppresses the urge to adjust the undershirt he'd slipped on as Brittany and... Courtney? Christie? (Something with a C he's about 60% sure) Had taken their leave late last night(probably early this morning but fuck if he's gonna be worried about the time). Every rouged bite and bruise flames under the fabric in a way that feels far too much like shame.

The barely there feeling of cool fingertips on his shoulder burns like a cold brand, superseding any temporary claim laid underneath in an instant.

"Any coffee left in the pot?" It's not a question, not really; even if Gideon is loathe to move away from that grounding touch he knows this is his part in the song and dance(and dancing always had been more his thing). Falling into the practiced motion he heaves himself up onto his feet to retrieve Kremy's cup from the small cupboard in the wagon, hands whipping together (the equivalent of) an americano with a splash of cream and no sugar.

In the time it takes for the cup to come together Kremy has removed his suit jacket, folded it carefully and set it on top of the rumpled covers of Gideon's cot, before placing his hat atop it and settling into the chair facing the door. Gid gingerly sets the cup on its saucer before placing it in front of Kremy and falling back into his own chair with a grunt. The other man makes a pleased sound as he takes a sip and a pleasant flame of emotion licks at the back of Gideon's brain.

"New technique?" A pair of clever yellow eyes peer over the rim of the cup.

"Working out a few bugs."

"Mmm."

Silence falls in the cozy interior and Gideon can almost pretend those lovely aches and marks didn't come from Brianna or Carrie at all, can indulge in the effortless, lasting clarity he only finds in moments like these.

"What's that bring the total to this week?"

"What total?" Playing dumb with Kremy is playing a loser's hand and he knows it. All he gets for his trouble is the unimpressed arch of a single brow. "Well I guess it depends if you're asking about encounters or headcount." He tries with a lascivious chuckle.

"Every night this week Gid! Every single night you've been tied up with some hussy or another and every day you've been waiting to do it again! You almost set the big top on fire yesterday you were so goddamn distracted!" Heat floods the tips of his ears at the memory. "I want an explanation Gid and I want one now. What the hell is going on with you?"

Now would be the time to say it, to come clean. To just tell Kremy, his boss, his friend, about the click clacking of train wheels over tracks that haunts his brain. How sometimes he can't hear his own thoughts under the bellowing whistle of a long gone steam engine. How his skin doesn't feel like it belongs to him, his body a machine for someone else's use. How good it fucking feels to find parts of himself in the core of somebody else, working for his own pleasure and dragging them along with him right up to the brink. How those primal sounds of skin on skin solidify that he's not just another cog in an infernal machine, forever toiling until he's sucked dry and spit out. How even then it's not always enough, that it's these quiet moments, devising more and more intricate ways to get the perfect cup of coffee that he doesn't even enjoy, sitting at his little table so close their legs have to touch, riding at the head of the caravan directing the horses while Kremy ticks boxes and traces routes on maps at his side, these small quiet moments that quiet his brain more than a month of one night stands and empty touches ever could.

"You know I'm fine with your proclivities, Gods knows you've earned it." A small part of his brain purrs. "But something's obviously bothering you and that's not something I can stand." And just like that he's pierced on a golden stake, feeling those eyes slice him into delicate layers and pick through them at their own leisure.

But Kremy doesn't rush him, never has, just sits serenely and allows him to fiddle with his words, fine tuning his meaning to the best of his abilities.

Now would be the time to say it.

"Remember when you offered me my own wagon?"

A look of mild surprise crosses a reptilian face. "Vaguely."

Gideon nods, letting the word hang on the air, intermingling with the smell of over engineered coffee.

Finally:

" Would you be open to rooming together again?"

The frown that crosses Kremy's features pierces between all the whirring mechanical bits of himself and straight into the fragile meat of his beating heart.

"Well Gid it's good of you to offer but you know I don't swing that way. You're more than welcome to keep the ladies to yourself, can have my share too while you're at it."

It takes a minute to grasp what Kremy's insinuating.

"No man! Not like that, I wouldn't do that to you, not rooming together at least. I'd just invite you here..."He pauses, grasping for the right words. "When it gets quiet... when I'm alone... it can be too... loud... in my head, s' fucked up, down, and sideways..." He trails off, looking up and searching Kremy's gaze for answers, he always has the answers.

His friend nods in understanding.

"Think I can arrange that, we'll need to rearrange the furniture and we can always use another Chow wagon." he begins muttering, turning things over in his head, organizing his thoughts like a hand of cards.

"You know I'm not too picky, I can sleep on the floor."

Kremy waves a hand absent mindedly. "There's plenty of room for two in the bed-" cutting himself off with a painful choking sound, Gideon can see a thread of panic strumming through Kremy's posture. "Of course that's a hell of a presumption, huddling for warmth is a whole different thing I shouldn't have said any-"

"So long as I get a little desk space to tinker and warm breakfast I'm satisfied." Gid shrugs. He misses sharing sleeping arrangements with Kremy, the wagons were a nice upgrade, more spacious and stable than tents and bedrolls, but they also took the few times he was able to hold close the smaller form of his partner. The privilege of feeling the cold-stiffness bleed out of his limbs and turn into languid sleep. Like cuddling the cold side of a pillow all night, a pillow that will occasionally rumble like a thunderstorm and vibrate his whole chest.

"I won't have any of your Jezebels in my bed, you want to let off that steam, fine, but not in our wagon."

Our.

"Seems reasonable enough." He smirks.

"You have yourself a deal Gid."

#kremy is absolutely a good coffee bitch #and gideon is an anything for my husband bastard #this was meant to be way more angsty but then i just felt that they've had enough trauma for a while #everyone notices that kremy(notoriously NOT a morning person) is much more pleasant in the mornings #(he's waking up all nice and warm so he doesnt need to wait for the sun to do the job)#coalecroux #kremy lecroux #gideon coal #once upon a witchlight #ouaw #legends of avantris #gideon and kremy at the front of the caravan bickering like a married couple

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lovelybarnes · 1 year

Text

flustered- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader warnings: very flustered reader, not sure if i exaggerated it too much but i think i did im so sorry about: requested by the lovely stefi!! flustered reader basically lol part 2!

it’s one of those nice kind of days—where the sky is leadened with gloomy cotton balls and the heat of the sun is muted. the grass beneath you is fresh and smells of petrichor in anticipation of the rain, already cold between your fingers and needling through your jeans.

a breeze flutters your lashes, urging your eyes open and your hands to splay like a starfish into the ground. something else pricks at your skin, pulling your eyebrows together.

“hey,” someone says behind you. bucky, you realize.

“hi,” you respond automatically, lolling your head back to catch sight of him. he’s tall and solid and upside down when you blink up at him, eyes just as piercing as they observe you.

“it’s gonna rain,” he informs, stepping over to stand next to you. “y’gonna come back inside?”

“no,” you answer definitively, staring back up at the sky. “maybe when the lightning starts.”

“lightning?” he repeats, grunting when he lowers himself gracefully onto the ground. his knee pokes into your thigh, but he doesn’t move it away.

you go still, concentrating on not shifting weirdly. “it’s pretty, but it makes me nervous.”

“what if i stay out here with you?” he offers.

“what are you going to do against lightning?” you ask, laughing. “maybe if it were thor—”

his own laughter is rough, genuine. lightly, he nudges your shoulder. “punk.”

you grin, a little pleased and a little flustered. “what?”

“i’m offering my protection. super-soldier protection.”

“oh, i’m sorry,” you apologize. “i didn’t realize you guys could control weather.”

“you are…” bucky begins, searching for a word. “incorrigible,” he finishes, teasing.

you bark out a laugh, meeting his eyes. “incorrigible!”

he nods. “‘s okay, though. it’s part of your charm.”

bucky turns to observe your profile, silently scanning your features. your thumbnail goes to trace the nailbed of your index.

you clear your throat, watching the clouds as they roll in the sky. “thank you,” you reply. it comes out a little strangled.

bucky clearly hears it, but his eyes crinkle. he hums. “s’my pleasure. i get to talk to you and see you, y’know, be impossible.”

you nod, not sure when to stop. you’re still stuck on his previous compliment, like a thread caught on a hook and you can’t help but pull, let your sweater unravel green and greedy and coarse.

“i didn’t know that was a charm,” you start unsurely. “or that i had charms, more like.” it’s not smoothly said, a little halted in that you want to explain further, only encouraged to by the chaste curve of his lips, amused and patiently heartening. you urge him to silence you. “or charm? is it just charm, singular? i think of charms more like the bracelet things, but charm could encapsulate the entirety of the—” you crane your fingers and move your hands as if they’re cupping something large. “the idea. which i guess is what you mean and it implies a lot more than one, right?”

you’re rambling, you know.

bucky is grinning, though, purely amused and bastardly pleased. he nods along to your words as if he’s listening closely to each rise in your voice, paying attention to each word.

you clear your throat and attempt to relax your tense shoulders. you’re not uncomfortable, you remind yourself. your anxiety carries none of the unpleasantness associated with it, instead something so largely gracious and massively salubrious that it makes you slightly ditzy, spilling out like honey and sneaking into the cogs of your brain.

it makes the wheels stagger and slow, your mind lagging to dig up something more to say. so, you say: “i bet you were really charming back then. you know, because you were so popular? like steve and everyone says.”

bucky chuckles. “were, huh?”

you know he’s teasing. he’s only ever teasing, but you stammer to take it back. “are! are real charming! really charming. i mean—i meant that it was just, like, a lot back then. not that it isn’t anymore, just… just different?” you have to explain, having piqued his actual interest. “back then, it was smoother? from the way people talk about you, i can’t imagine it wasn’t something automatic. now it’s, it’s more deliberate, i think.”

you’ve been talking for so long.

“but, obviously it still works, right?”

he smiles something small, crinkling the edges of his eyes lightly and mischievously as if he’s caught you in something. “why do you say that?”

you shake your head as you look for a response. “uh…”

bucky decides to take pity on you, moving away from the topic to stretch his torso. a sliver of skin peeks from behind his shirt, gleaming and distracting as you try to look anywhere but there. you fail, obviously, your focus betraying you.

“you look real nice today, you know,” he says, a smidge more serious and totally sweeter.

you heat up immediately, ears burning as you squeeze the lobe between your thumb and index. “you too,” you force out, overwhelmed with the compliment, skin prickling with its genuity.

bucky observes you for a few seconds, eyes slow and deliberate as they take you in from a foot or so away, and then he settles a few inches closer.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, but he doesn’t really want to know, isn’t truly asking in the words’ definitions. there’s a pleased mask in his expression, hiding something flustered from your attention from your scrutiny.

you only blink and shrug, the weight of his gaze increasing with every second he stares. the blue of his irises has always been gentle in a sharp way, deep and crushing and grand like the ocean. warm and comforting like the sun that it reflects.

you swallow when he leans in, close enough for you to be sure he’s being entertained by how flustered he’s making you. you can’t think, you realize after a blank moment, mind crowded with the way his fresh scent interrupts the petrichor.

he’s smiling when he finally pauses in front of your face, nose nearly brushing against yours close, close enough that you can see the stars in his eyes and count each charcoal lash.

"you know you don't have to be so nervous around me?" he whispers.

you shiver, unable to help yourself as you dig teeth into your lips and your attention flickers to his.

they twist up when they notice, only crawling further when you choke out an affirmation. “yeah, yeah. i’m not—”

your reply dies on your tongue when he swoops in, noses nudging when he kisses you. your eyes stay wide open for a moment before they flutter shut, your body frozen before it melts inevitably, slackening into him. one of his hands moves to hold your waist, lips smiling beneath yours as he pulls away.

you swallow, attempting to blot away the haze his kiss has glossed over your mind. his grin isn’t helping, blinding you and chasing away the breath that kisses your lungs.

“i’m not nervous,” you finally force out. “you’re just—just really—”

“i’m really?” he urges.

you frown. “mean,” you finish.

he laughs, and you’re dizzy again.

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drarryspecificrecs · 8 months

Text

2023.08 ~ Top 10 longest fics posted on AO3

1. Good Intentions by Gloworm13 [E, 382k]

►Harry never expected a conversation over returning Draco's wand. [...] Harry can't cope, especially when his group of peers is sent back to Hogwarts to finish their interrupted Seventh Year. And Draco Malfoy is wholly unprepared for facing the love of his life every fucking day now that he knows.

2. About Everything We Fucked Up and Tried to Fix by @zoooooey0610 [E, 246k]

►The time is the Dark Middle Ages, even with Voldemort defeated, the Wizarding world is still a place where Omegas are seen as properties. Couldn’t sleep, Harry came across ‘The Slytherin Wall of Sluts’ that changed the rest of his life, but the cog wheel of destiny may have started to move long before that. Twelve years later, he was confronted with the presents of destiny, and struggled to deal with the mess. However, every step he took seemed to be another mistake.

3. Cut From the Sky by @mallstars [E, 150k]

►"I'm stuck in a time loop, reliving November 2nd. This is the 111th time I've lived through today." Draco stilled. His moody eyes, the tension in his hands where he gripped onto his umbrella, the careful mask of blankness flickering over his face — everything about him was so difficult and so very dear to Harry. "Ah," said Draco, "and?"

4. After the Rain Falls by @shinigami714 [E, 95k]

►After the events of the war, all Harry wants to do is forget. For everything to return to normal. But things never were normal for him, and the war left many marks on him not so easily forgotten. When he receives a surprising offer to return to Hogwarts in a continuing education program, Harry jumps at the chance, and despite his best efforts to deal with his problems alone, discovers along the way that quite often, two minds are greater than one.

5. guard dog by chrismare [?, 63k]

►The first thing Draco ever loved was the Manor. Not the house- it was too big, too quiet, too cold- but the grounds that surrounded it. He grew up on stinging soles, running barefoot through his own little world. One of the house elves had cleaned the tiny cuts on his feet once and told him that he'd get used to it, that he'd grow calluses and it would stop hurting. It never really did.

6. Dating Draco Malfoy by @queenofthyme [M, 60k]

►Draco Malfoy is dating his way through Harry Potter’s endless pool of ex-boyfriends. With the help of Harry’s expert dating advice, he just might find exactly who he’s looking for...

7. Snogging Lessons by Revolocard [T, 58k]

►Harry Potter thought the hardest part about being the Chosen One would be preparing to fight Voldemort. He didn't expect it might actually be missing out on all the normal teenaged stuff. Now in sixth year, Harry feels like an outsider, too worried about being the subject of another Witch Weekly article to try to take part. When he and Draco Malfoy land in a semester's worth of detention, Draco is delighted and horrified to discover the Boy Who Lived is not only a virgin, he doesn't even know how to snog. Secret snogging lessons. It's not like it's anything more than just catching Harry up a bit. What could go wrong?

8. That Marriage Contract by Umeko [E, 54k]

►What happens when the forced marriage and male pregnancy trope combine to spring a surprise on the Boy Who Lived and his arch-rival turned unwitting fiancé? And they all have two dearly departed grandfathers to thank for the mess.

9. Terrible People by @wolfpants [E, 52k] --- ART by @getawayfox

►What happens when Harry and Draco end up on the same Muggle gay cruise? They certainly didn't plan for it to happen (but their friends might have). They're stuck with each other for a week, they might as well make the most of it, right? Featuring a holiday-long game of Truth or Dare, a very ill-judged FWB proposition, decades-long pining, lots of gin, and a small pair of green swimming trunks.

10. and i ignite by @pixiedunhoff [M, 51k]

►Draco Malfoy loves attention - and the Muggle world has given it to him in spades. Through a surprising and humbling series of events, Draco has achieved tremendous success in the music industry. He has recouped his fortune, earned legions of adoring fans, and gets loads of attention. Over the years, it has still never been quite enough… Until the subject of his more sizzling songs abruptly barges back into his life, demanding answers.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 10k

※ Word count: 10k ~ 40k

The Best and Worst of Times after the War (aka A Tale of Two Soldiers) by WriterwithaWindow [M, 11k]

breathe in, hold it, breathe out by @autisticnightfury [T, 18k]

chasing embers by ryyss [M, 29k]

Firestarter by Justlikewriting [M, 22k]

For each time I see you, things change a little bit by Writelikethat [M, 10k]

i think i might be gay by @stvrlvghtwrites [T, 10k]

Just Nice Things by wodnica [E, 31k]

No One Likes a Mad Woman by @thomasbrodiesandwich [T, 17k]

only the brave by slytheringoddess945 [T, 10k]

Possibly, perhaps be my boyfriend? by @23ster [G, 16k]

Seek, And Ye Shall Find by @nami-writes [T, 14k]

The Switch by @ashiiblack [M, 11k]

Take Me Back (To The Night We Met) by @onelatenight-longago [T, 12k]

What’s Mine is Yours by @fluxweeed [E, 17k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

HD Wireless 2023 | @hd-wireless

HP Bodice Ripper Fest 2023 | @hp-bodiceripper

HP Law of Attraction Fest | @hp-lawofattraction-fest

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #harry potter #draco malfoy #monthly review #2023

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