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#hawks in the distance: YES
Dabi: Everything you've read about me is true.
Tomura: Says here that you're a bitch.
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salsedinepicta · 30 days
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"Not every haunting is for horror / sometimes it's just for company" (murmur - C. Barnett), or some kind of handers ghost AU, part 1/?
Notes and ramblings under the 'read more', cw: mention of suicide.
I'm humbly proposing Two Scenarios™, maybe?
- Hawke accidentally summons a ghost when he move into a house built over an old prison; could be related to canon or not, like some sort of AU piled over a canon divergence (Anders died during the year in solitary confinement).
- Hawke impulsively buys a flat to move away from his siblings; they are dealing better than him with their parents' death, and what's his use if he is not anymore the responsible older brother that hold everything together? The landlord didn't clean anything, so he inadvertently inherits all the memories things left behind by the previous owner, someone who committed suicide one year prior. Plus a cat that refuses to leave.
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todayis-snowy · 2 years
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this is the canon ending to my latest comic btw.
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thedragonagelesbian · 9 months
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theres so much physical intimacy in this fic its making me unwell.........
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demetris-cocksleeve · 2 months
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I think Tate should pin reader to a wall and fuck her. W me deserve a treat this Halloween season, and slutty Tate is such a nice thing.
(A/n: I think that's the best idea you've had yet. Slutty Tate is really all I need in this life🫠)
(Forgive the writing rust, it's been a minute)
(Not proofread)
(Pretend it's still October for me, yeah?)
Word Count: 1,611
Summary- Run, baby, run.
Warnings: Chasing, Unprotected Sex
Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
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Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader: Run
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"Oh, my fucking god, Tate!" You screech as you use the banister to make a sharp turn. Tate thunders down the stairs after you in that stupid mask he found.
"C'mon~" He rasps out. "Don't you wanna play?~"
You round the kitchen island, circling it to keep distance between you. His vocal fry makes your cheeks burn; the innuendo in his phrasing doing nothing to help the heat.
"Don't -" You cut yourself off with a scream as Tate all but lunges around the island at you.
And you're running again, through the living room, past the home office, until you spot the basement door in your peripheral. You shoot off towards it, ripping the door open and sprinting down the stairs. You use the support pillars to your advantage, losing him in the maze that you call a basement.
You can hear his heavy steps as he taunts you. Boot clad feet clicking and echoing through the dark room.
"Y/n~" He singsongs. "Come out, come out wherever you are~"
His voice is muffled by the mask.
You slip around the last outcropped wall and plaster your back to the brick.
A shiver runs up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end as it suddenly goes deadly silent. The only sound in the damp room is your ragged breathing that gets poorly muffled by your hands.
Why did you think the basement was a good idea? You've done nothing but effectively trap yourself.
You're a sitting duck down here. Your best chance at escaping him is if you can manage to get back up the stairs and make a break for the front door. In theory, it's easy. The door is just a few paces to the right of the basement. But this is a ghost you're dealing with - nothing is that simple with him.
Nonetheless, once you steady your breathing, you start inching your way back to the steps.
Thank the gods you decided to put off putting your shoes on; your socks make your steps silent as you scoot around a corner. Your eyes adjusting to the pitch black does nothing to quell your paranoia; if anything, it merely heightens it. The knowledge that you could turn your head at any point at be face to face with your pursuer has your heart frantically beating against your ribs as if aching to smash through the bone. The quiet roars in your ears as you strain to hear even the slightest shuffle in the dark.
Wait-
No. That was your pulse in your ears...
'Where is he..?'
Every step you take feels like it's being watched like a hawk, and, at this point, you don't know if you're just psyching yourself out or not. Something moves in the corner of your eye, but when you whip around, you're met with nothing.
'This isn't funny anymore...' your mind unhelpfully supplies.
Taking a shuddering breath, you make up your mind and call out into the pitch.
"Tate? Please, this isn't fun anymo-"
A hand covers your mouth, an arm snaking across your stomach to drag you back. You thrash, desperately trying to rip the hand off. Your protests remain muffled as your captor pins you face-first to the nearest wall.
"Gotcha~" Tate quips, his breath fanning your neck. "Are you scared, baby?"
So, he ditched the mask... 'Finally,' you can't help but think.
You shake your head despite the answer being an obvious 'yes'. You can feel his cock pressing into your ass, getting harder with each passing second.
"No?" His hand slips from your mouth to your jaw, tilting your head back, "Liar."
With that, Tate slams his mouth to yours, hungry and not afraid to satiate himself.
You know it's wrong. That being hunted down and caught shouldn't make you feel this way, but it does. It does. It makes your tummy get all hot and fuzzy - makes your head cloudy and hazy.
And Tate knows it.
He knows this dirty little secret of yours and loves to entice it. Because, just as much as you love the chase, he loves the hunt.
The arm around you slides down until his hand can slip into your pants.
"Not only are you a liar -" he murmurs into the kiss, "- but you love that you're scared. I bet you're soaking through your panties, too, aren't ya?"
His fingers finally reach your folds, easily stroking you with all the slick that's shamefully accumulated. "Knew it~"
Tate breaks the kiss and pulls his hand out. Lifting his hand to your lips, he barely has to mutter out an 'open' before you're accepting the digits into your mouth.
You can feel his dark eyes boring into you as you suck your own juices from his fingers.
"Good girl..." His thumbs along your jaw with his free hand before pulling his digits from your mouth.
Tate turns you around and pins you to the wall once more before leaning down to kiss you again. It feels like he's devouring you; eager to eat you until there's nothing left for him to take. His tongue slips past your lips, tasting all you have to offer and still some. It's when he starts to work at your jeans that you pull away.
"Down here?" You ask, as you attempt to catch your breath. Tate makes that easier said than done by shifting to focus on your neck.
You can feel the shit-eating smirk that spreads against your neck as he mumbles out a "Why not? You had no problem soaking your panties down here."
He belts out a laugh at your offended gasp and as much as you want to snark back, you can't deny that he's right. So, instead, you huff out an "Asshole" as you relax against the wall. Wasting no time, Tate shoves your jeans down until you're able to kick them off; after unbuckling his own, he hikes your leg up and lines his cockhead with your entrance with an almost evil grin.
"Tate, don't you fucking dar-" You're cut off with a yelp as he shoves himself to the hilt with one motion.
"You love it," he grunts. And you do.
He pulls out to the tip before thrusting back in. Again and again, he builds up to a frenzied rhythm as the wet sounds of your arousal echo through the basement and all you can think is how glad you are that you're the only one home.
You can feel the staccato of your heartbeat as it mirrors his trusts.
You can barely breathe with how hard he's slamming into you, but he still has you all but clawing at his back, so it's not like you can complain. He isn't much better with how he's basically growling into your neck, sucking and biting a pattern into your skin as he fucks into you.
"How are you still so fucking tight?" He groans out, grinding his cock into you before pulling out. Tate flips you around once more before pushing back in.
Your cheek scrapes against the wall with a few trusts before you're able to get your palms against it. Using your new leverage, you start to press back, meeting him trust for thrust as he draws out grunts and groans from both of you.
The hot, wet slide of him in your cunt has your brain going empty of anything but Tate and the growing need to cum. You can feel the steady build up, the tension mounting in your muscles as he guides you closer and closer to the edge.
You're not even sure what sounds your making; all you can hear is the heavy breathing and growled curses that Tate is releasing. His hands snuck up to play with your tits at some point and with each tug and pinch, your back arches more and more as electricity starts to crackle in your veins.
"God, I'm close," you pant out. "Please, Tate..."
You feel the tip of his nose trail up your neck as he inhales your scent. "You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" He mumbles once his lips meet the skin just below your ear.
He slips one of his hands back down to your clit, "Then cum."
With one last tug to the sensitive nerve, your vision blurs as you cry out his name. The static in your limbs shoots out, spreading through your fingers and toes and tosses your head back against his shoulder. You don't even register your legs going out until Tate's arm tightens around your waist, keeping you up as he chases his own release.
"Hold on, baby," He rasps, "Just hold on for me a little longer-"
The continued stimulation keeps your eyes shut as your forced to take what he gives. Any rhythm he had is gone as he pounds into your cunt like an animal; you could cry out in relief once you feel his hips start to stutter. And you do. As soon as you can feel the thick, hot ropes of his cum pump into you, the tears fall; the overstimulation makes your legs quiver, but ecstasy still hums in your veins.
You don't register the muttered praises Tate presses into your shoulder until your breathing evens out and your heart stops hammering in your ears. "You with me, Pretty?"
Nodding, you test your legs, finally taking the strain off of Tate, though his arm stays firmly locked around your waist. Blinking the remaining blurriness from your eyes, you turn your head to face him before getting pulled into a kiss.
"There she is," he whispers against your lips.
(3 years and I still don't know how to end smut🤪)
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corroded-hellfire · 3 months
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The Boy Is Mine (Red's Version) - Eddie Munson x Reader
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For @carolmunson’s writing event! Thank you for hosting this fun and uniting challenge 🥰
Summary: A romantic evening at Eddie’s trailer where you finally put a long-time dispute to bed.
Words: 2.2k
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“Mmm,” Eddie moans as he stretches his arms out over his head. His tight back muscles loosen at the movement, having become stiff from sitting in one place so long to watch a movie. This is the third week in a row you two have had Star Wars Date Night and even though you both love it, neither of you realized how sore you’d get sitting in one spot for hours or how many times you would need to get up and use the bathroom during the long films.
Your boyfriend looks down at you, where you’re resting your head on a throw pillow in his lap. He smiles as he gently traces his fingertips down your cheek.
“Ready for bed, beautiful?” he asks.
You roll onto your back to look up at him. A rogue curl falls down in your direction and you take the opportunity to wrap it around your pinky.
“I guess so,” you say. 
Reluctantly, you sit up and push yourself off the couch, allowing your boyfriend to do the same. The whole walk down the hallway to his bedroom, Eddie has his hands on you: gripping your hips, sliding them along your waist, tugging at the hem of your denim shorts. 
“I’m capable of taking my own clothes off, you know,” you muse as you step into his room.
“I know. I just think I can do it better,” Eddie mumbles against your shoulder, pressing kisses there and up the side of your neck. 
“Can I change into my pajamas and then you can grope me? Does that seem fair?” you ask. 
Eddie chuckles and takes a step away from you. The moment you move further away from him though, he grabs his chest and acts as if your distance from him is literally killing him. 
“Aw, damn,” you mutter as you pick your bag up from the floor and set it on Eddie’s bed. “Looks like I killed my boyfriend.” 
The overdramatic metalhead drops to his knees, making the thin walls of the trailer shutter, and crawls towards you as if you’re an oasis and he’s been in the desert for days. 
“Need…my…girl.”
Rolling your eyes at your boyfriend’s theatrics, you tug your shirt off over your head. Eddie’s eyes go wide and watch you like a hawk as you take off your bra and jeans as well. You slip an oversized Metallica t-shirt on and put your clothes back in the bag. Something pink and sparkly catches your eye and you perk up.
“Oh!” You pull out a small notebook, covered in stickers in all its glittery glory. 
“What’s that?” Eddie asks, finally standing up from the floor. He tosses his own shirt aside and undoes his handcuff belt. 
“Just something to prove to you that I’ve been right all along!” You point the notebook at him like it’s an accusatory finger as he strips down to his boxers.
“About?” Eddie asks. He grabs an old yellow scrunchie you left over a while ago and ties his hair back at the nape of his neck. 
Instead of answering him, you sit down on the bed and turn yourself until your ass is up against Eddie’s pillows. Then you lay back and kick your feet up to rest against the wall, leaving your body at a ninety-degree angle. 
Eddie situates himself the opposite way, his body lying the typical way with his head coming to rest right next to yours. 
“This,” you say as you open the notebook and begin to flip through the pages. Eddie tilts his head up to try and get a look but all he can see is swoopy handwriting in black ink scrawled across the white pages. “is the diary I kept in fifth grade.”
“Oh God,” Eddie says, running a hand down his face.
“I found it when I was cleaning my room this morning. Maybe now you’ll believe me!” you exclaim, and you begin to flip the pages with more fervor. “Aha! Here we are. My eleventh birthday.”
“Babe, you only invited me to your birthday party because you invited the whole class. It’s okay.”
“No!” you groan in exasperation. “I mean, yes, I did invite the whole class but that’s not why I wanted you there.”
“Right,” Eddie says, sarcasm dripping from every syllable, “it’s because you had a crush on me.”
“Ugh!” The fact that he doesn’t believe you drives you up the wall. But now you’re holding proof. It’s right here in black and white—and clearly not in your current handwriting. “Prepare to be proven wrong.”
You clear your throat before you begin to read your pre-teen self’s diary entry. 
“Dear diary, it was a pretty great birthday. I got a new bike from mom and dad. Chrissy gave me some new gel pens and Heather got me a Rick Springfield poster. But the best part of all was EDDIE! Duh! I didn’t see him when I cut my cake so later I grabbed a cupcake and punch to bring to him. I found him in my treehouse and we sat there for a while. Together. Just us! I wanted him to kiss me soooooooo bad but I knew he wouldn’t. It’s dumb to think he’d like me the way I like him. I can’t help it though. I just wanna take Eddie Munson’s face in my hands and kiss him until our lips fall off.”
You stop reading when you and Eddie begin laughing. 
“See?” you say, nudging Eddie’s shoulder with your own. “I bet you don’t even remember that day.”
Your boyfriend lets out a loud bark of laughter before raising his eyebrows at you.
“Wanna bet?”
The backyard is set up with long tables covered in colorful plastic tablecloths, grilled meats or snack foods laid out for guests to nibble on. The day is bright and sunny, but not blisteringly hot to be outside. It seems like half of your class is in the bounce house as you walk past it. A couple of your friends call your name, urging the birthday girl to come join them, but you have other plans. 
In one hand you hold a cupcake and the other a cup of Hawaiian Punch. You couldn’t find where your mom put the extra cups from this party, so you had to settle for the Fairy Princess themed paper cups you had from last year’s birthday. 
Squinting to keep the sun from your eyes, you take another scan of the backyard. Some neighbors talking by your dad over by the grill, a few of your aunts walking inside the house with your mom, and kids scattered around the yard like dice thrown across a Yahtzee board. But not the one kid you’re looking for. Still, you don’t give up. He was here before and you’re sure you would’ve noticed if he just left. 
As you come to the back corner of your yard, it’s both cooler and much quieter. The shade from the looming maple tree brought a sense of calmness to the small, tucked away area. You take a few steps closer to the trunk of the tree and when you look up you see the treehouse you built with your dad and uncle two summers ago. And hanging out the front entrance of your hideaway fort you see two dirty white sneakers, one looking a little worse for wear than the other. 
You walk around to the other side of the tree where planks of wood are hammered into the thick bark; your makeshift ladder. It’s a little difficult to climb with the confection in one hand and a full cup in the other, but you manage to do it without dropping or spilling either. Eddie’s head turns to you as you climb up the hole in the floor behind him. One corner of his mouth quirks into a smile and it has butterflies rushing throughout your stomach. 
Determined to not make a fool out of yourself in front of the boy you have a massive crush on, you set the cupcake and beverage down as you pull your body all the way up into the tree house. Once you’re securely up, you scoot over to sit next to Eddie. Your legs dangle next to his out what could be considered the front door of the fort. 
“What’re you doing up here?” Eddie asks, not unkindly but not exactly warmly either. His eyes never meet yours, instead gazing out ahead, in the direction of children laughing. 
“You missed cake,” you tell him. 
Eddie looks at you from the corner of his eyes and you realize he’s trying to determine if you’re being sincere or not. Anger settles in your veins and you’re suddenly ready to single-handedly take on any bullies that pick on this sweet boy. 
“I didn’t think you’d notice,” Eddie finally replies. 
If only he knew how wrong he truly was. It seems like you’re always aware of where Eddie is in relation to you. Whether it be seated behind you in class, down the table at lunch, or halfway across your own backyard. 
“Well, I did,” you say, trying to quell the heat in your cheeks at your response. “And I brought you this.” You reach behind you and grab the Hawaiian Punch in the Fairy Princess cup. The reminder of what you’re giving him this beverage in has your cheeks getting warmer again though. “I ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?”
Eddie takes it from you and raises it to his eye level to inspect the different creatures depicted on it. An amused smile graces his lips, but he doesn’t laugh. 
“It’s good. Fairies are cool.”
His response makes you feel lighter as you wrap your fingers around the polk-a-dotted cupcake wrapper and present the vanilla dessert to him.
“And this,” you say. 
The boy takes a sip of the punch and sets it down next to him before accepting the cupcake. 
“Thank you,” Eddie says softly. It’s the quietest you’ve ever heard him speak before. 
“No problem,” you answer, just as quietly. 
Slowly, Eddie peels the wrapper from the cupcake and takes a large bite that envelops half the treat in his mouth. As he chews, you notice he has a little vanilla frosting smeared above his top lip. You can’t help but smile as you gesture to the area on his pretty, pale face.
“You’ve got a little…”
Eddie sticks his tongue out and runs it around his lips, cleaning off the mess. 
“Actually,” Eddie says, tilting his head as he looks at you, “so do you.”
A frown of confusion creases your brow. 
“But I didn’t have a bite.” Your hand goes up and feels across your face. “Where?”
“Riiiiight…” Eddie swipes his pinky through the white frosting and dots it at the very tip of your nose. “There!”
The way your face crinkles up makes Eddie’s heart beat a little faster. And when your laughter joins in, Eddie swears he’s in love. 
“I can’t believe you thought I didn’t like you,” Eddie says, shaking his head in disbelief. 
“Honestly, I thought you liked Chrissy.” You roll on your side and nudge Eddie’s earlobe with your nose. “That’s why I tried to copy her look as much as I could for a while. Didn’t work that well, but I tried.”
“Chrissy?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to look at you. 
“Mhmm,” you affirm, not meeting his eyes. “Actually, I thought maybe you liked her again last year when you guys were chemistry partners. Or maybe that you’d never stopped liking her. I mean, she is really pretty and the sweetest girl, and—”
Eddie stops you with a gentle hand caressing the side of your face. He turns on his side so you’re nose to nose and slowly swipes his thumb across your cheekbone.
“Aw, don’t be like that. That’s not even true. I didn’t like her last year. Or in fifth grade. Or ever. I’ve liked you since the fifth grade, though.”
You slip off of the bed and rotate yourself so you can lay by Eddie’s side. He tucks you under his arm and presses a kiss to the top of your head. 
“Sorry,” you say softly. “Guess I had a throwback moment after reading that adolescent angst.” 
“It’s okay. It’s not like I never get insecure.”
“Or jealous,” you add, but with a small smirk. 
“I guess, yeah,” Eddie agrees, cheeks flushing pink at the admission. 
“And possessive,” you say, tightening your grip on your man.
Now, Eddie has an amused expression on his face as he studies you. 
“And you like that?” he asks.
“It’s hot,” you explain bluntly with a shrug. 
Eddie rolls his eyes fondly and presses his lips against your temple, leaving them there for a moment. 
When he reluctantly pulls away, he reaches behind him and turns off the light. The moment he’s back down beside you, you’re clinging to Eddie like a koala bear. He doesn’t mind one bit as he holds you just as securely. 
After a little while, his eyes start to slip closed. But before he falls fully asleep, he feels your leg slip in between his. Your knee lifts until your thigh is pressed right up against his cock. Suddenly, he’s not so sleepy anymore. 
“If you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem,” Eddie grumbles out, making you giggle. 
“I would hardly call that a problem.”
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mathmodder · 6 months
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Get Wild Mod by MathModder (In Progress)
What you need to know:
This mod introduces wild animals into your game map that spawn naturally in beetle spawners. It includes birds, small mammals, amphibians, more insects and reptiles in nature zones. Birds can fly and land in random locations and ground animals can be seen walking around the map.
You can choose ONE from various versions that best suit your world. Select the version that spawns specific animals suitable for your World's location.
Here's a list of potential versions that will be included in the mod:
All Wildlife (City World)*
All Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**
American Wildlife (City World)*
American Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**
European Wildlife (City World)*
European Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**
African Wildlife (City World)*
African Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**
Eastern Wildlife (City World)*
Eastern Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**
*Versions for cities will have additional specific effects that help create a more beautiful environment for your city, such as planes in the sky, fireworks, sunshine rays during the day, and sky lanterns for the All Wildlife and Eastern Wildlife version. **Versions for Medieval/Country towns will feature additional specific effects to enhance the beauty of your world, including hot air balloons in the sky, sunshine rays during the day, and more.
These additional effects mentioned above will appear rarely and randomly in your world.
Can I place individual animals in specific locations, such as on rocks or tables?
In a future update after launch, this function will be added, for now they will only spawn where there is a beetle spawner. Ground animals on the ground and birds in the air.
Is the mod heavy to run?
Within the game I am optimizing it so that a small number of animals spawn at the same time and only spawn at a maximum distance of 500 meters from the player's camera.
How many files will there be?
Because there are many animals and specific animations for each one, the files will be heavy, will be a maximum of 2 to 3 files. In tests in my game with 150 other mods from other creators, I didn't see any loss of performance due to the optimization I'm doing within the game.
It is worth mentioning that some files will need to be placed in the Overrides folder and others in the Packages folder, they will all be specified at launch.
Is this mod compatible with other effect mods?
Yes, it will be compatible.
Bugs:
Depending on the location, there may be some bugs such as birds landing in the air or animals walking a little above the ground, this is due to calculation problems on certain game surfaces and physics, whether hills or mountains, but over time I will update and see What can I do to reduce this. In this case I depend on the engine the game has and whether it is possible to correct certain errors.
Release date:
Between January and February 2024 (It is in the testing phase)
Here is the list of animals that will be included in the mod:
American Eagle Bird
Anteater
Artic Tern
Aphids
Bat
Beaver
Bees
Black Bird
Black Egret
Black Fox
Black Goose
Black Rat
Blue Bird
Blue Frog
Blue Green Parrot Bird
Blue Jay
Blue Lizard
Blue Parakeet
Blue Macaw
Booby Bird
Brown Bird
Brown Bunny
Brown Egret
Brown Hen
Brown Monkey
Brown Owl Bird
Brown Pelican Bird
Brown Squirrel
Bullfinch Bird
Bullfrog
Butterflies (many colors)
Buzzard Bird
Canary
Capercaillie Female Bird
Capercaillie Male Bird
Canadian Goose
Cardinal
Carcara Bird
Charadriidae
Chimp
Chimpmunk
Chukar partridge
Condor Bird
Cormorant
Coyote
Crow
Cicada
Cockroach
Dart Frog
Dove Bird
Dragonfly
Egret
European Goldfinch
Falcon
Female Peacock Bird
Flamingo Bird
Fox
Fireflies
Golden Monkey
Golden Pheasant
Goldfinch
Gray Frog
Gray Lizard
Gray Parrot Bird
Gray Partridge
Green Bird
Green Frog
Green Lizard
Green Parakeet
Green Parrot Bird
Harlequin Duck
Hawk
Heron Bird
Hoopoe Bird
Horn Owl Bird
Humming Bird
Humming Bird Loop
Jack Rabbit
Kinkajou
Komodo Dragon
Ladybug
Lilac-breasted Roller
Little Red Parrot
Little Yellow Bird
Little Yellow Parrot
Magpie
Mallard Bird
Marmot
Marten
Male Peacock Bird
Mole
Multicolor Bird
Nude Rat
Orange Bird
Orange Fox
Orange Frog
Owl
Pangolin
Pheasant
Pink Cockatoo
Piper Bird
Possum
Pigeon
Quero-Quero Bird
Raccoon
Raven
Red-Eyed
Red Fox
Red Frog
Red Head White Cardeal
Red Lizard
Red Panda
Red Macaw
Red-crowned Crane
Rooster
Scissor White Bird
Sea Parrot Bird
Seagull
Silver Pigeon
Skunk
Snake
Sparrow
Spiny Lizard
Stork
Striped Lizard
Swallow Bird
Toco Toucan
Tortoise
Vulture Bird
White Bunny
White Cockatoo Bird
White Diving Bird
White Fox
White Goose
White Hen
White Monkey
White Owl
White Pelican Bird
White Piper Bird
White Rat
White Squirrel
White Swan
Wild Rabbit
Woodpecker
Yellow Lizard
Yellow Parakeet
Yellow Pelican Bird
Yellow Toucan
Want to support? Be a Patreon and get Early Access! Math Modder | The Sims 3 Mods and MO-MO-MORE! | Patreon
If you have any questions, leave them in the comments and I will add them to this post!
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fanaticsnail · 1 month
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Cross-Guild Masterlist
Navigation Masterlist Here
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Buggy D. Clown:
You Kissed the Clown? (15/15 Series)
An upper-class tinkerer finds herself amongst the crew of the Staw-Hat pirates. Falling within the blast of a giant flash of red smoke and captured with her crew in the claws of the Buggy Pirates; she is confronted by her flight, fight and freeze response. Immediately, she finds another way of distracting the infamous clown-captain: a passionate and disarming kiss. As time and distance fall between them, feelings of romance, infatuation, fascination and longing cling to the clown and the tinkerer in each other's absence. How could they feel so deeply for each other; they only shared one single kiss?
Happy Birthday, Pumpkin (one-shot)
Buggy longs to kiss you but always shies away in case his affection is not reciprocated. Finally, an opportunity presents itself for a consequence-free kiss and he can barely hold himself back in anticipation. Happy birthday!
I Can't Do This Without You (one-shot)(smut)
Buggy attempted to use some unusual, waxy pollen to form into a "buggy-ball". He was an idiot. He can't manage the consequences without his loyal and ever faithful crewmate to help him out.
A Small Kindness (Smut One-Shot)
A blue-haired man with a round red nose is down on his luck. He's lost everything, not a single berry to his name after being defeated again by the straw-hat crew. A small kindness from a stranger propels him to get back on his feet. How could he repay you? Surely you needed something in return.
Headcanons & Drabbles:
Soft-Dom BuggyBratty BuggyCross-Guild InterrogationThe Clown Apologises
Buggy x Reader x Mihawk:
Swing, Sway, Shag, Smimmy (Buggy x Reader x Mihawk) (4/4)
Buggy is infatuated with his prized acrobat. He issues a dance night-off for his pirate crew, choosing to "make a move" in the hopes of charming his beautiful acrobat under the hawk-like gaze of his guest of honour. Unbeknownst to Buggy, the feeling of infatuation is mutual regarding the acrobat. Can they learn to 'play nice' to woo the acrobat? Yes, yes they can.
Dracule Mihawk:
The Apprentice (6/7 Series)
Mihawk is a bitchy boss, the apprentice is his bratty underling. Professionalism, sword-mastery and affiliation for wine consumption drives their relationship.Mihawk pushed his apprentice a little too far, prompting her to submit a formal resignation effective immediately. Calling her bluff, he attempts to chaperone her towards a cellar door to begin an afternoon of wine-tasting, only to find absence at his side as his apprentice simply walked away from him. And he was angry about it.Ongoing series.
You Should Be Sad (Completed Series):
Upon rising to the title of Warlord and Worlds-Greatest-Swordsman, Dracule Mihawk began to neglect his fiancé and her desires. Unable to provide her with the one thing she truly longed for, he remained apathetic as she broke from their lengthy courtship.A decade later, and many a bottle of brandy relinquished, he drifts to Baratie in hopes of drowning away the memory of her: only to have his hopes shattered as the hired band begins to play with his ex-fiancé singing her vengeance at him.
Let Me Take Care of You (one-shot)
The personal assistant to Dracule Mihawk notices he is not quite acting himself: a small wince as he reaches for his breakfast wine glass, a grimace as he draws it to his lips and the narrowing of his eyes as he begins to slouch. Luckily for the both of them, the assistant has a resume of many a skill: remedial massage being the key element provided to the broody warlord. He reluctantly accepts their touch, longing for the burden to be released from his shoulders.
El Tango de Mihawk (one-shot)
A talented thief manages to obtain an invite to the marine ball and decides to utilize it as a great opportunity to steal from the wealthiest members of the world government. Mihawk immediately recognizes them and decides to toy with their scheming, tango dancing ensues.
The Marine's Mistake (request) (one-shot)
Something horrible occurred to rid the warlord of his signature facial hair. Cadets had gathered and began whispering in hushed tones as Garp held a seated meeting with the warlord at a table in a run of the mill tavern. A new transfer does not recognize the sleek cheeks of the handsome gentlemen and immediately decides to approach to flirtatiously engage him over a drink or two. Mihawk is amused.
My Love Mine All Mine (request) (one-shot)
Mihawk returns to his castle in kuraigana nine days after he was due to return. He finds his lover sleeping in his bed, face falling to rest atop his pillow. Soft drabble, pining, longing.
Hanahaki: The Hawk and the Fledgling (request) (one-shot) Part 2
Mihawk notices his Fledgling, an apprentice he took under his wing, has become lazy in their training. Upon one final vocal reprimand, they collapse; sputtering a cocktail of saliva, blood and... petals? Is that petals in their hand? Surely not.
The Spear and the Sword (request) (one shot)
Drabble Part 2
Mihawk is required by Vice-Admiral Garp to obliterate an approaching armada of barbaric pillagers from their attack on a marine base. As this army was not enough for him to handle alone, Garp calls in another warlord, a ferocious warrior-woman armed with a spear, to aid in his ability to complete this task with as much succession as possible with as little damage done to the defenseless base. Both begin their armed ascension, showcasing their abilities in contest to see how many troops they best by the end of battle, against how many injuries they themselves acquire in the thralls of combat.
Little Sparrow (one-shot: drabble)
Mihawk has been up with your daughter, soothing her as she experiences her leap weeks. You spend some moments with your husband as he holds her in his arms.
Sapsorrow: (9/10 Series)
The two wards of Dracule Mihawk and his green-haired apprentice stumble across a large collection of treasure in one of the large and ornate wings of Castle Kuraigana. The central object in the room is a embroidered pillow, a small circlet of intricately carved gold lay in the middle.
The three of them begin fiddling with it, it becomes stuck on the green-haired swordsman's finger. A struggle occurs, the ring slips from his finger and a large bell-like tinkle rings against the marble floor. Perona frantically tells the Ward to get it before it's noticed. She stoops, finds the ring and slips it on for safekeeping.
Mihawk, stumbling across the three of them, accuses them of toying with the object. His eyes widen as his focus shifts to the ring fitting perfectly on the appropriate finger of his ward.
"Whom so ever fits the ring becomes wed to the warlord who owns it."
Macule Drihawk (drabble)
When Dracule Mihawk drinks, he becomes an entirely different person. That person's name is Macule Drihawk.
Sir Crocodile:
My Favorite (Sir Crocodile x Reader)
Sir Crocodile has founded a league of highly trained assassins named "The Choirs" - all coded after the nine choirs of angelic influences. You are his favorite: his prized "Seraphim" who's ferocious brutality is only outmatched by your incredible beauty. Not truly knowing if your affection is all an act to continue being paid a wage in berry, he has not made a move of his own aside from calling upon you to sit on his knee of an evening, and have you utter praises into his ear. It is only when the two other members of the Cross-Guild begin flirting does he find his limit being tested. Will he bend, or will he break?
Sands of Time: Intentions of Series
Sir Crocodile thought he was safe from the intentions of the haunting Sapsorrow Queen. His soul has been laid claim, his time is running out. How can he have a stranger fall in love with his within the year? Would she truly take his sould should he fail?
When We Wake (one-shot)
Blissfully waking within the arms of your lover, you are both struck with the thoughts of how precious you have become to one another. Whispering confessions of adoration to one another while the other slumbers, you are both completely overcome with such deep devotion.
The Duality of Sir Crocodile (NSFW drabble)
The duality of a dominating gentleman. Spoiling and endearing, encumbering and brutal.
Misc Multiples:
Get Well Soon (Drabble one-shot)
You're sick, and they do their best to support you through it. Zoro, Sanji, Mihawk
Please, I'll be good (one-shot)
After rescuing you in the heat of battle, he can no longer contain his desires for you. He was so good. He can keep being good if it means you'll keep kissing him.
Koby, Sanji, Corazon, Sabo, Buggy, Shachi, Ace, Penguin
How They Kiss (drabble)
Four different kisses with all of your favourites. Where would you place them in these categories?
Hallmark Piggyback (drabble)
Short piggyback on @indydonuts post about OP characters in a hallmark movie. Drabble is for Law x reader x Mihawk - amnesia trope
You're Angry at the Tall Men: Drabble (One-Shot)
He knows what he did to earn your wrath; your fury ignited in your eyes and the flames physically tangible and searing the room with your scorn. Your brow was furrowed, your lips curling into a snarl to bare your pearled teeth at him.Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Corazon, Doflamingo.
An Affectionate Embrace: Drabble (One-Shot)
It was a simple reaction, an impulse you felt organic and out of your control. Their cheek was right there, and the swell in your chest and spike of adrenaline prompted you to lunge forward and capture their cheek beneath your lips. How do they react to such a soft touch? Do they shy away, or do they respond in kind?Buggy, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Shanks, Benn Beckman
Forehead Kisses (short drabble)
You're being a brat because they're neglecting you. Prepare to be greeted with the forehead kiss you crave from them.
Zoro, Crocodile, Kid, Killer, Beckman, Mihawk
Interrogation (crack dialogue)
Cross-Guild crack dialogue x reader
Dreaming of You (One-Shot) NSFW
They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Sir Crocodile, Buggy, Dracule Mihawk
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fatesundress · 8 months
Text
⭑ life of the party. tom riddle x reader
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summary. when one game is ruined, another begins.
tags. explicitly fem afab reader, smut with as minimal plot as i can physically allow myself, minors SCRAMMM, loosely implied hogwarts university au as always, flirting via mutually assured jealousy, impeccable communication skills, established relationship, the guy the reader is talking to gets annoyed she doesn’t want him but he doesn’t do anything, religious undertones that might have accidentally become overtones, party setting (background drinking & general degeneracy), probably the meanest tom i’ll ever write and i still tried making him nice because lots of heavy jealousy tropes are misogynistic icks fo me, fingering, piv, a little degradation but that's life, fawwwk the weeknd but the song this is based on is so sexy, etc
note. Me writing this: nightguard: ON, religious themes: RIFE, shame: ABOUNDING. i am so embarrassed by this. have i mentioned smut doesn’t come naturally to me? i don’t even know how i got here. i’m on heelys at the proverbial skatepark and everyone else apprenticed under tony hawk. Do you understand? ok.
word count. 4.5k
request. yes!
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He is what he is. Stoic, sacred, silent and then verbose. You knew he had his fixations before you knew him at all — no one made top of every class without a shadow of obsession to contrast the glint of their excellence — but you could not anticipate how that obsession might translate when applied to a person. You’re not sure he had either.
He is what he is. The muggle world taught him religion and in it he learned only the tenor of devotion. When his fingers take your jaw, trace slow at the stripes of your thighs, steady your hips from under you and hold tight, there’s reverence in it. His kisses don’t wane with the months gone by; they soften with purpose. They rouse with hunger. His eyes don’t waver. Should a good man gaze upon his altar? Should he smile like sin when he gets on his knees? 
He does.
Tom Riddle is what he is and you solemnise in equal part.
You don’t come to these things often, taken aback by the sight of the Slytherin common room in ribbons and banners tattered within the first hour of the night. Bottles glow green in the lake-light on every available surface, scattered about the place and spilled in sticky puddles. 
You’re a wallflower tonight, though not for lack of options. You observe from a comfortable distance the drunken antics of new adults, free to carry their liquor in hand rather than hidden away in pockets and pillowcases. There’s something vaguely entertaining about it, intoxicating where someone else might mind their business and actually get intoxicated, but you see no harm done. Whispers fall on your ears before the rumours make their rounds, couples slink away in the darkness where someone in the crowd might not notice, and the night’s first instance of someone hurrying up the stairs in tears comes barrelling right past you. You invent a story for why to keep yourself busy. 
It’s all just buzz.
Now, if you don’t come often, he certainly doesn’t.
Tonight, he has, and for reasons explicable but few, you’ve found yourselves on opposite sides of the room.
It began on the green couch by the window with a chess set spilled across the velvet — a bet you made with him upon arrival; you find wizard’s chess trite, Tom finds it feckless, but it makes for a good challenge. 
What else could convince a man so perpetually controlled to pour himself a drink? And you imagine, from his perspective: what else could convince a woman so determined to outwit him?
It’s for no nefarious reason — to slight him or see him stumble — but because you love the fractions of relief that colour him, soften him, temper him. It’s because he loves you in every shade, in every pliancy, in each and every fervour. But mostly it’s because you love kindly to best him, and he loves mirthfully to best you.
So you play. The game is slow and teasing, hard to see in the ripples of the lake, and toppled over in the final moves (which you’ll insist you were winning) by the same swaying body that spills its drink down the front of your dress. And so you’re up, brushing your index finger over the corner of Tom’s sudden scowl. You whisper like a joke not to kill anyone but he’s so quick to look like he might that you consider repeating yourself with more conviction.
You poke at the spot where his jaw is tense. “I’ll be right back.”
Drying liquor from lace is a matter of precision even with magic, and this is half-gelatinous like someone raided the kitchen’s supply of jelly and steeped it in something offensively alcoholic. You utilise the clearer light of the Slytherin girl’s lavatory, wetting your dress before evaporating the water from it. There’s the matter then of transforming the stained fabric back to its original colour, and you huff in the mirror at having a game you thought you didn’t care much for ruined so close to its end.
You care about Tom, though. The omphalos of your issue resides there.
(It is fair to say most of your issues reside there.)
With only minutes gone by, the common room crowd looks doubled when you return, and though you wade through you’re pushed back like debris caught in a tide, the bodies more stubborn rubble than you. So you retreat, stand flush at the wall with your arms crossed, and wait for Tom’s eyes to land on yours. To, perhaps, open your mind and let him in, tell him exhaustedly from afar that the game is at rest and you’re ready to leave.
But even he’s hard to find in the bodies unified in breath, flux like a big set of lungs —  and nothing about Tom blurs into the background.
So you wait. You wallflower. You pour yourself a drink.
The moment stretches on longer than anticipated, and after many detached observations of the room, someone else finds you instead. He’s tall, blond to Tom's inkwell black, kissed by summer sun even as autumn soothes its blister. Your gaze wavers back to him a few times though his own is uncertain for all its focus. He seems to be waiting for you to stop, perhaps for the silhouette of someone else to slip by and prove you were looking at them instead. When no one else comes, he traverses the crowd with a straightened inch of pride, stepping through new colours until he’s close enough to you that the light settles emerald-black and you can see the great chasm of his beauty up close. 
His freckles are carefully dusted, his structure strong, all squarish, rugged lines and shades of August.
The chasm is not a lack of allure, per se, it’s just a lack of him. One man’s August to your adherent’s December, the intention of his warmth, a thing that does not come to him like everything else but that he makes and makes and mends when it lapses because he does not want to see you cold. The singular reward of a rarity like that.
“Hi," you say, glancing over a broad shoulder.
“Evening," he responds. He takes you in with a look of (unappreciated) appreciation. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“No, we haven’t.”
He extends a hand. “Oliver Belby.”
“Pleasure.”
You don't offer much in the way of conversation. He’ll vie for your attention regardless of how much of it you offer. So you lean against the wall where the buzz of sound prickles your hair, let him talk, let his hand come up to rest beside your head, and you find Tom.
He’s right where you left him, a new clearing in the crowd making space for your eyes to meet.
His are ice even at a distance. As if you proselytise — as if you could — kneel for another man or let one kneel before you, all of your trysts together faithless.
They aren’t. He must know they aren’t.
But you put yourself here and standing at the target of his gaze has never been marred by the severity of it.
You decide then; when one game is ruined, another begins.
In truth, you can’t deny the element of theatrics in the way Tom denies everyone but you: his soft, penitent smile, the apologetic cant of his head, how his eyes can find you in any crowd and whoever is clinging onto his every word that night will follow his gaze and deflate when they discover you at the end of it. Sometimes it’s harsh. Final. He lacks the patience of pretence. 
Sometimes, the week is dull. Sometimes, the whoever is undeterred. Sometimes you’ve pushed him here. 
No — You’ve never done that before. This is new.
So it’s one of those weeks, and one of those whoevers, on an anomaly you may as well have directed the encounter yourself, and Tom is half-indulgent as he forces his eyes away and you force yours to stay. 
You watch him from across the room as the woman drapes herself across the arm of his chair. There's a furious blush on her cheeks even in the dark, a pretty disarray to her shoulder-length hair, skirts pleated over knees she faces toward him. She smiles and offers him a glass of something, and you know for certain Tom understands this game because he accepts it, eyes flicking back to you as he swirls the glass in contest. 
To that you take an inappreciable sip of your own.
“ — Which is why no one has even attempted to kill one in decades. And capturing one is another thing entirely. My mother works with the Greeks on occasion, and the nearest she came to a den was in the twenties. If she had gone any nearer I wouldn’t be here.”
“Hm?” You look back at the man in front of you. His lips glisten with having licked them between every phrase.
“The manticores,” he says, undeterred.
“Right. Five-X beasts, aren’t they?”
“That’s what I said. I heard from one of my mother’s colleagues that — ”
The woman is whispering something in Tom’s ear, her hair on his cheek. He’s looking at you as if you had said the words. You don't shy away when Oliver leans in to whisper too. It's a strange, fractured language. Too intimate while too detached. Whispers from across the room, desire from another in the place of desire for each other. But the strangeness should not surprise you anymore. This is Tom: beautiful and wicked and the one you chose.
“ — And Nundus are worse. Deadliest creature there is — ”
She’s laughing about something, the woman. Half-reserved, she’s angled toward the party despite her leaning on his shoulder and the dissipating inches of distance.
“ — They stalk in silence. Think of the size of one, right? They’re apex predators… so commanding and still they could be in front of you one instant and gone the next.”
You engage with detached interest. “Really?”
And now Oliver barricades your view, his other hand coming to rest on your other shoulder.
“Do we have any classes together?”
You blink up at him. “No.”
“No, right,” he says, eyes darting to your lips. “I’d remember you.” 
His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you wonder if for some men one-sided discussions of class five beasts qualify as foreplay.
You place a hand on his chest, eyebrows raised and half a startled smile curled. 
“You’re not going to kiss me," you inform him.
His face falls, but with it, at least, does his hand.
“Did you hear me?"
“It’s loud,” he decides suddenly. “Can we go somewhere else?”
You’re not sure you believe that. 
You duck under an arm and search the crowd again. The woman is on the arm of the chair looking thoroughly dismayed, and for good reason —
Tom is gone. 
Your breath is caught.
“This isn’t… You’re not going to…?”
You flash Oliver with a glare. “So you did hear me.”
He makes a pathetically sad face, and you think: it’s a wonder he made it this far when his courtship evidently hinges on the subject of his affection not listening to a word out of his mouth.
“Goodnight, Oliver,” you say tersely.
“What was that for, then?” he asks, and it comes out practically whined.
“That was talking.”
“But you’re —”
“Belby.”
He is what he is. It shouldn’t surprise you when he appears beside you all fatal rage on a quiet lead, narrowly fixed to you. 
Tom’s cold is his median temperature, yes, but in moments like this it’s as much for you as his handmade warmth. He’d pluck the fingers off a boy like Oliver. The digits would string eaves like icicles.
Oliver is looking between you and Tom like something terrible has dawned on him, hands urged to his pockets to soothe the flames your unveiled ties to a man seemingly singed him with.
“Riddle — Mate, I didn’t… I didn’t know she was…”
Tom’s voice is flat, edged with something that makes his monotony sound merciful. “Pity. If only you knew as much as you talked.”
Oliver’s mouth opens and closes and opens again, but wisely he settles on silence instead of excuses, and wastes no time fleeing slowly into the crowd. 
The instant he's stolen by the wave Tom's eyes are on yours and they’re molten. You move to say something but his patience was for show — he’s dragging you by the arm out of the common room and into one of the dungeon's empty classrooms without giving you the chance.
“Tom —" You start to protest, mouth twisted in a scowl. “Tom, you're being —"
He shuts the door behind you and locks it with such delicacy your breath catches at the question of how badly he's holding himself back right now.
“I'm being what?"
“You're…" It's hard to formulate an answer when he's like this. “It was a game. Don’t pretend you weren’t playing too."
Tom inches in, chest rising with angry breaths. “A game, was it? Did he know that?"
“Did she?” you hiss.
“It certainly became apparent when she was discarded so that I might retrieve you.”
“It was as apparent to Belby, judging by the way he was left gawking.”
“And with great restraint I let him. A mercy I didn’t take his eyes so he was left without the ability.”
You roll your eyes. “Oh, now I understand; the problem wasn’t the game, it’s that I played it better than you.”
He looks at you for a long time before casting a silencing charm on the room.
Oh.
Oh — your heart barrels off somewhere. You’re without it for a moment, breathless in the wake of the implication of a spell like that.
“Tom," you say politically, “It was hardly a matter of rescuing.”
He nods imperceptibly. “No, it wasn’t.”
“So we’re in agreement.”
He hums a non-answer.
Each step he takes forward, you take back. It's a peculiar way to have a conversation, but part of the game, you suppose.
Interesting he’s still playing.
You still gasp when you inevitably hit the wall, hands going to the carved edge of a windowsill.
“You’re terrible when you win,” he whispers. His lips brush your ear.
You shudder, mouth dry as you press against his shoulder. “You’re worse when you lose.”
His mouth drags down your jaw but he refuses to kiss you, still withholding something, still holding back in some terrible, electrifying way. Instead one of his hands starts to dip down your side. You shiver as he grazes the skin of your breast, exposed by the cut of your dress, and continues down your waist. His mouth traces your bare shoulder as his tongue makes a slow pass, skin beneath leaping at his careful ministrations.
With long, slender fingers he's pulling your dress off button by button, torturously slow, and you feel mocked to have cleaned it earlier. You feel foolish to have left knowing the night would have ended like this regardless.
“Tom,” you say. His name is followed by staggered breaths. Your fingers are clutching the windowsill.
The air is thick as he watches you, flesh exposed by each undone catch. And still he will not kiss you, even as his lips trail along your collarbone and you start to tug instinctively at his belt. He makes the barest sound of disapproval and spins you to face the window, your hands urged on instinct to press against the glass.
“Tom...”
He hikes your dress up your thighs. It clings to your hips, a meagre two buttons left attached to keep it from falling.
Your wand clatters as his fingers work the clasp of your bra and his teeth skim your shoulder, leaving little bites he laves at softly with his tongue. You shudder, arching into him, searching for friction. His touch traverses the shape of you and stops feather-light between your legs.
“Tom —”
“Quiet," he admonishes, a little tut.
Your skin jumps at the caress of his fingers tracing deceptively timid up your thighs, like he hasn’t done this before, like it’s care and not punishment. His favourite oxymoron: the gentlest torture, the cruelest succour.
His index draws upon the lace of your underwear and tugs it aside with a tenderness that makes you gasp. Is there a way to press harder to the glass without breaking it? Is there ever enough to grab onto when he gets like this — so singularly focused on ruining you? 
One of your hands latches onto the arm half-disappeared in your skirts instead, clinging steadfast to the white of its sleeve, your body swaying as if at sea. He keeps you steady, but this is his crown achievement: that he is all there is that can do it when you’re so singularly focused on being ruined by him.
The sinews of his forearm work imperceptibly under your fingers as he appreciates the newly unfettered flesh, two digits sliding between your legs, and he makes a satisfied sound against your shoulder at the wetness he finds there. 
You’re swallowing air with a moan stuck in your throat; too dry, you realise, and feel like you’re choking when he starts to move, gripping his arm somehow tighter.
As a rule, you know how much he loves this, but it’s tenfold under his jealousy and you think deliriously, probably wrongly, that for how much he enjoys pushing you you enjoy pushing him to get here. You’re his and he’s yours, there’s no doubt in it — but what he can reduce you to — this desperate creature, writhing and panting, trying in vain to satiate herself with a simple finger — this is the translation; the fruition of his fixations put to a person rather than a subject. This is what it is to be his.
Tom’s mouth opens in a smile at your throat, and there it feels more like bared teeth, a smile that is as animal as it is pretty. 
And still he whispers with all the affection of a lover, your name peppered between kisses.
His fingers inch inside you and curl. You’re wedged in the perfect balance of his discrepancy; your disciple and your devil. He worships you in white. He ruins you in it too.
Now his name comes out in a babble, wet, half-drooled. A nip pinches the little space beneath your ear and you clutch impossibly harder to his wrist, your free hand squeaking down the window pane as you grind on his palm. He crooks his fingers against a spot that has you seeing stars, thumb pressed to your clit in a subtle motion, and you feel yourself tip off into an unknown he aquaints you with often. In a blurry, flickering moment, the light gleams somewhere beyond the stained hues of the window. And that should be it. The edge is at your heels and you should be falling. But the sinful press of him at your back commands you to lurch against him, and when you moan for more he pulls his fingers free.
You stumble weakly into his chest, startled.
“What… What?”
“Ask me for it,” he says, his voice hoarse, markedly wanton in spite of himself. But there is hunger and there is greed. There’s a sacrificial lamb and there’s a hunted one— there’s religion and there’s Tom. He invents something that demands greater devotion.
And the sound of leather rasping serge and metal clinking metal reels your conscience in. There are no stars. There’s just him. His belt is coming undone.
“Tom.” You swallow. “I told you —”
“And I want you to ask.” He cups your jaw in his hand, thumb tracing your lower lip. “Nicely.”
Your mouth opens for him and you shiver, pressing further back for contact he doesn’t allow. Instead another small tut is whispered at your neck, relinquished to a kiss.
His finger brushes your teeth when you speak. “I want you.”
You feel him shake his head and you all but whine.
“I want you inside, Tom — need you — please.”
“Please?” he echoes mockingly.
“Please,” you say in an uneven voice, and when your tongue grazes his thumb he eases it further into your mouth with an appeased hum.
And so his zipper comes down and you hold your breath with the weight of your dress at your hips.
He pushes inside you with minimal pause, slow still, to relish the way your little pants hitch, stop, and shudder out in a broken moan; the way your breath is guided by his rhythm, how you’re shaped by him, fitted around him. You careen forward and your palms flatten on the window, trembling at the first thrust. Your fingers quiver down the glass.
Tom pulls you into him on the second, patience abandoned. His lips chase your pulse. His grip on your jaw tightens as his thumb pops free with a string of spit. He nudges deeper at a new angle, your body forced as far as it can lean back, gasping heavenward when your head falls helplessly onto his shoulder.
It’s profane. Your ears almost dull to the sound of his hips snapping against yours, the obscenity of your skin on what he offers of his, but you waver between earth and something else, brought back to him by the torturous sight of the edge he stole you from. Always brought back to him. 
He’s gripping your jaw in one hand as he pushes deeper, and your fingers are lost for purchase on his forearms, trembling to hold onto something.
When he pulls out of you at your brink again, you practically cry out. But you understand when he spins you around again, hiking you up against the windowsill, your shoulders hitting the cool glass with a gasp you barely register in the fog of your desperation. His eyes are dilated to midnight rings. The weight of his desire is frightening. The insistence to claim you better yet.
He wastes no time before slamming into you again, pausing at the hilt to watch your eyebrows wrench together before resuming his pace. When your mouth falls open, he swallows the noise that tries to come out of it.
It doesn’t feel like a kiss. It feels like the prolusion to a bite.
His fervour is all the reminder of how you got here in the first place; the teeth, the force, the grip on your waist. There’s a rough sound he makes in your mouth that you taste more than you hear. The vibration of him is everywhere. You’re too hot and it only occurs to you because your fingers are clawing at fabric instead of skin that he’s fully dressed and your last button has finally snapped, lace pooled on the classroom floor as he fucks you. The thought is consigned to oblivion as quickly as it came. It doesn't matter.
You're clutching at his shoulders, the nape of his neck — trying to kiss him back, but you feel torn in two by the intensity of his ministrations, a low, immolating pressure building in your abdomen. He’s proving something with you, and his is a relentless, unending appetite. You don't really stand a chance. You think you've known that from the start.
Tom is all-consuming. Tom is a force of nature, a whirlwind that sweeps over you. He leaves you breathless and somehow needing more as he wraps his hand around the small of your back and seizes you in place.
Still you find yourself wanting to be held tighter.
“T-Tom —" you sob through the kiss but he doesn't give you enough air to do it. He pushes harder, a rasp at the back of his throat, some carnal thing. He’s not withholding your release now; he’s spurring you towards it.
When he withdraws his lips from yours, his brows are furrowed in concentration. There’s a fine lustre of sweat on his forehead, stray curls pulled across dark, wicked eyes. The sight of him alone is condemnable, but it isn’t for you.
He likes to watch you like this. When your moans dissolve to the torn syllable of his name, again and again. The veneration. Your choked litanies.
You give them to him.
Sleeves drawn up by your body’s baser instinct for skin, you’ve carved a canvas of praise into his arms, marked up to his elbows where your fingers had jerked upward to rake at his back. This time, when you find the cliffside, nothing stops you from teetering off its edge. Flames dance across your skin in an explosion, your collar damp and bitten, your waist in Tom’s vice-like grip. One hard thrust and you’re falling.
The stars are blinding. You decide then they were made by him.
Your head lulls back as shocks of pleasure course through your body, the coil snapped, the hard shape of him inside you demanding impossibly for more. You stumble through the light, vision blurred, praying and praying and praying. His grip comes to find your jaw again.
You keen, addled through the ecstasy, barely conscious of the way his panted breaths hitch at the sight of you in his hands, soft-eyed and puddy.
He always comes apart soon after you, but it happens rarely that your body is so taut on the wire of rapture that his twitching inside you takes you with him. 
This time it does.
You sink against him, thighs numb and wet, one hand slipping dumbly from his figure and swiping across condensation-foggy glass. The second orgasm is an aftershock of the first. It’s slow. It feels like being caught from the last fall. You land in Tom’s arms and they’re holding you through whitened knuckles. His eyelashes flutter, ink-dipped twines of quills, and he steals the shaky sigh from your mouth by pressing it to his.
You kiss lazily and softly. The room feels sheeted in static. The electricity lingers on both of you.
It’s hard not to fall against the window when he slides out of you. You slump on quivering legs into his chest instead, heaving, spend trickling down your legs.
Tom holds you close, adjusting his trousers before sinking down to settle you on his lap. He wipes the sweat from your face and presses his lips to the feverish skin it plastered. Forehead, cheeks, nose, chin, whispers of your name down your jaw like a prayer answered. Your eyelids flutter shut and he kisses you there, too. His lashes tickle.
You love him more than you worship him. You think he likes that more.
He grabs your forsaken dress from the floor and slips it over your bare shoulders, summoning the snapped button back in place before he begins to meticulously clasp the rest together again. His mouth leaves a path at the skin under each one before it closes, and you hum in dizzy gratitude.
“That was,” you say in a very worn voice, “a terrible way to reinforce not making you jealous.”
He glares at you from one of the lowermost buttons and you giggle sleepily, curling a hand into his hair. “Don’t look at me like that. You liked it too.”
He leans back up at that, tipping your chin with his fingers, gaze darting over the wrecked state of you with a pleased gleam in his eyes. “You liked it? What a modest interpretation.”
Now it’s your turn to glare.
He is what he is — pursuit of buttons forgotten as you’re laid down on the moonlit floor to be reminded just how much you liked it.
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taglist. @lyis @indimoss @poddzi @esolean @d1anna @maripositanoctruna @mentally-in-northern-italy @ronniemaximoff1234 @moobell55 @jaerang @ramayantika @saltwaterbythesea @acube07 @togenabi @adazito @kitcat334 @blaurghhh @shutupfinn @jaymeeshayden @lilu842 @leaosee @garfunkelworld @definitely-not-captain-america @multiplefandomstan @mangoesareorange [ note: inexplicably, a bunch of my tags aren't working. i tried to fix it but if you didn’t get a notif i’m sorry! ]
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colourstreakgryffin · 8 months
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Hello my good friend. It's been a while since I've requested but. Can I request kyojuru and mitsuri with female-child reader who likes fire, and likes to watch things burn up? They don't get burnt by it but if they do they won't cry. For kyojuru's part reader like to brush his hair with there smalls hands on tug at the bottom of his haori where the flames are. 🙏🏾💕
Hehe! Omg, this is so wholesome and cute and I can already see how both would behave! Let’s gooo! I’m totally doing this request and welcome back, darling! Also welcome back, Mitsuri
Rengoku Kyojuro
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Kyojuro is naturally protective over younger ones so when he sees you, the little girl he rescued and adopted, sat in front of a stick fire. He sprints to pull you away from the flames and tell you lightly that fire is dangerous
Kyojuro is flattered with how much you like his hair. Yes, it does look like fire, doesn’t it? He will let you brush his hair all you want and the way you try pull the strands up so it will burn like real fire, has his heart exploding. You’re just so adorable with your fire fascination
Kyojuro cannot say no to you, like at all. Sure, he will take you away from fires you start and put you in front of controlled fires but that’s for protection. In every other sense, he can’t say no, so when you reach for the tips of his flame-like haori, he drapes it over you so you can play with it
“Look, Dokusha. See that fire there?” Kyojuro‘s comforting yet strong voice rolled out softly as he comfortably sat down on his knees, with you placed in his lap. His pointer directed your eager eyes to the roaring tall torch egging-on a big, beautiful orange-red-yellow mix palette flame burning with life. You immediately silenced yourself, the reflective light of the fire bouncing off your eyes as you glared in pure awe
Kyojuro didn’t want his precious adoptive daughter to be around uncontrolled and touchable fire so instead, he would set the Rengoku Family flame torches for you to gaze and admire the fire from a safe distance. You always have loved fire, ever since he met you and up to this very moment. You pulled at his fire-like coloured hair and played with the flame patterned haori draped carelessly over his shoulders
Kyojuro didn’t mind sitting in front of the torch with you, all to make you happy as he admired your gawking expression. You look simply so adorable in your nighttime Yukata and your pretty loose hair decorated by a single small ponytail. Kyojuro is over the phrase of ‘glad’ that you’re his precious baby girl, his one and only child. He will give you his flame-like haori to cuddle up in and a nice lap to fall asleep on
“What is your favourite colour of the fire, Dokusha?”
Kanroji Mitsuri
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Mitsuri, as the older sister of five, knows to always be careful around danger and how to handle children with dangerous things so when you, her cute little adoptive daughter, is huddled over the Estate’s furnace fire to gawk at the colours and liveliness, she is bolting to make sure you won’t catch on fire
Mitsuri will try distract you with fire-looking items as to keep you away from real fire. The way you hawk at the red fade to yellow kimono she bought for you and play with the tips of the flame-shaped handkerchief she got made, her heart goes pitter-patter with joy
When push comes to shove, Mitsuri will let you sit by her as she sets up the Estate’s furnace fire and even let you put in wood for her to set ablaze. She won’t let you handle the lighter, all because she is protective over you and always strives to keep you safe
“Place the big log down in this spot, baby” Mitsuri chirped gently, carefully placing her hands on your little back as you lazily dump the big irritable log of wood onto the standing pile of charcoal, spreading a small gust of ash over the short metallic railing guarding the entrance to the fire’s shelter. The log was heavy and scratched at your chest, you stepped back until you bumped against Mitsuri’s torso. She took this opportunity to cuddle you closer to her as she picked up the lighter and flicked the nozzle to spark up a fire
In wonder and awe, you watched Mitsuri eventually set the big log on fire after a few attempts of hovering the dancing flame over the wood, placing down the lighter to the side and shuffling back on her knees with you firm in her grasp so the fire couldn’t touch any inch of you incase it roared to life. Her prediction was proven correct when the thick chunk of tree essence brought to life a raging fire that almost grazed over the brick roof of the furnace
Mitsuri leant her vision down to look at you after your amazed coos faded. You’re just so adorable, eyes reflecting the mixed fiery colours and in that moment, she knew she will never regret saving you from that Lower Moon and adopting you as her little one. Sure, you’re a bit reckless with fire but your excitement over it makes her heart roar in true passion. Comfortable in your comfy nighttime Yukata and cute small silky brushed braids, she planned to sit with you in front of the fire for hours. All because the colours made you so happy
“Do you feel the warmth, Dokusha? The fire is so nice”
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vaguely-concerned · 1 year
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I'm playing through Dragon Age 2 again and I just can't get over how... idk how to say it exactly, but the way you feel, in every moment of this game, how much Varric loves Hawke. It feels entwined with everything, it breathes through every part of the narrative, it blooms diegetigally through the integration of story and gameplay, makes you a co-conspirator in that love in a way maybe only a video game could.
It's in the way I don't think this story is a defense of Hawke only -- or even primarily -- directed at Cassandra, but at Hawke themselves. Beneath everything else going on there's the quiet, utterly unshakable refutation of Hawke's worst fears: Did you think you mattered, Hawke? Did you think anything you ever did mattered? . . . You're a failure, and your family died knowing it. Rising through the story as Varric tells it there's a fiercely tender voice saying: Yes, you did matter. In tragedy or in triumph, for better or for worse, in love or in hate, you always mattered. The ultimate tragedy of Hawke is always right there in the open before the story even starts letting you in on telling it; they couldn't fix anything. They couldn't stop the downward spiral Kirkwall was set on -- the real truth is that no one person ever could. And yet the point of DA2 is that it matters that they tried, and it matters that there were people who loved and were loved along the way, however badly it all failed in the end. Hawke is the Bioware protagonist who succeeds the least, and they're the character who matters the most, to me. (This is also why the Absolution reveal did not shake me in the least haha, my love for Hawke has nothing at all to do with whether they succeeded or failed at anything.)
What Varric is saying, in the only way he seems to be able to say the really real things -- through stories -- is so simple and so fundamental. You were here, and I loved you. There's the emotional heart of it, at the end of it all, that love and grief and recognition. It's so dizzyingly intimate. There's so much distancing, layers upon layers of obfuscation, to be able to say it. It drives me insane!!!! It makes me feel the same way that 'Poem' by Langston Hughes does:
I loved my friend.  He went away from me.  There's nothing more to say.  The poem ends,  Soft as it began,— I loved my friend. 
He loved his friend. They went away from him. What more is there to say. (Many, many, many things, when you're a compulsive liar and storyteller, but hey sometimes you have to deploy a whole armada of lies to tell one simple truth, I understand, I'm a writer too lol)
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oxymorayuri · 3 months
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❞Sure Daddyyyy❝
Part two
If you haven't read the first part yet, you can find it here. ♡♡♡
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𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: 生ハム
✦ Pairing: trafalgar law x reader ✦ Warnings: insults, use of alcohol, mature content ✦ Spoiler: nope
wordcount: 4292
description: After leaving the deck, you go to your cabin and curse at the dark haired man, but don't worry, you'll soon get rid of all your frustration.
! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ !
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"Stupid ass!" You slam the door shut and lean against it with your back. Now that you're alone in your room, you can finally let out all your anger.
You had a bit of trouble getting to your bed because the alcohol was beginning to kick in.
While kicking off your shoes, you fall into your bed and lie with your face on the pillow.
Annoyed, you growl into the pillow and ignore how hard it is to breathe. Yes, you're angry, but somehow you're also exhausted.
Law knows exactly how you feel about him and, more importantly, how you both feel about each other.
What does he have against it? gosh!
Due to the lack of air, you roll onto your back and your eyes fall on Law's jacket that he once lent you. You crawl over your bed and pull at the jacket, causing it to fall off the clothes rack.
It still smells like him. You take in the scent deeply as you snuggle into the fabric. Your eyes fall on the logo on the back.
"Corazon…" you whisper as your long fingers stroke the lettering. You know exactly what special value this jacket has and yet Law left it to you that evening. You remember it like it was yesterday…
[back then]
After what felt like an eternity, you went back to the surface after the Polar Tang had been underwater for weeks. You wanted to feel the sun on your skin, smell the sea and you weren't the only one. The others in the crew were just as excited as you were to soak up some sun again. You and your bestie Ikakku threw yourselves into bikinis and sipped a few drinks in the sun. Even though it was always noisy on the deck, you didn't want to complain, you didn't begrudge the others enjoying their time on deck. And if you're honest, it was always pure entertainment.
You will still have your peace and quiet at the latest when night falls and you are alone with the moon.
The fresh sea breeze gives you goose bumps, but you don't even notice as you gaze dreamily into the moon's watery reflection. With your hands on the railing, you gaze into the distance. The sea glistens and is calm. Something that rarely occurs.
The evening is so peaceful and in moments like these you almost forget the stressful pirate life.
A faint smirk forms on your lips.
Stressful pirate life? Law does everything he can, to ensure that you hardly ever get into any dangerous situations. You have it pretty easy for a pirate crew, even though you're not that weak. You've begged him thousands of times to at least take you with him. After all, you're a pretty good swordswoman and use Haki. Even the famous 'Hawk Eyes', Mihawk, has complimented you on the way you handle your sword.
Law would never say that you're too weak, or rather he doesn't think that you're weak.. Otherwise he wouldn't have wanted you on his team but it's very obvious how much he wants to avoid the subject. He skillfully changes the subject or threatens that if you don't leave the topic, it'll be a month of toilet cleaning.
You don't even notice when the door of the Polar Tang opens and footsteps come towards you. You only notice his presence when Law puts his jacket over your shoulder.
"A little too lightly dressed, aren't you y/n-ya?"
You're a little startled but relax immediately when you hear Law's voice.
"It's not that cold…" you pout a little as you snuggle into his jacket. Your reaction makes him smirk and he turns his gaze to the moon. For a 'brief' moment, your eyes run over his figure.
He's standing right next to you, leaning over the railing with a bare chest and wearing only his typical jeans.
You suspect that he was wearing his jacket until just now. The biggest proof; it smells like him. Your eyes seem to have been on his torso for a second too long as his deep fake cough draws your attention to his face. Law's look tells you that he's well aware of how you're gawking at him and a blush promptly rises to your face.
The rest was pretty unspectacular and basically the two of you just talked until you yawned and decided to go to bed. Just in front of your bedroom door, you notice that you're still wearing his jacket and hesitantly tug at the fabric.
Actually, you don't want to give him the jacket back and he hasn't noticed… You decided that you would give it back tomorrow as you stepped into your room.
[Present]
And yet you are holding his jacket in your hands. It's already been two weeks, but it's not as if you didn't try to give him the jacket back, but he just left it to you. Sounds strange and it kind of was.
You get up and for whatever reason you take off your top and put on Law's jacket, imitating his outfit. It's probably because you're pretty drunk but you kind of like the way you look in his jacket.
The jacket is open but still barely covers your nipples and only a few curves and your belly button are visible.
His words had only confused you more.
"You can keep it with you if you want." He said that to you as nonchalant as usual when his eyes were on his papers… as if you had just told him dinner was ready or something similar. You just stood in his office with your mouth open and uttered a slightly confused 'sure' as you left the room.
"Oh Law you little bitch… I'm not fifteen anymore where I borrow my boyfriend's sweater…" you curse a bit dirty while you greedily take in the manly scent of his jacket, standing in front of the mirror.
"I'm a woman… I want more."
Your anger, your unsatisfied feelings, Law's smell, the alcohol and perhaps your own reflection put you in a rather exhilarated mood. You felt horny.
A knock on your door brings you out of your wild thoughts.
"Hey y/n-ya? Can I come in?"
You rush to the door and pull it open without much thought and Law stands in front of you with an almost troubled look on his face. His eyes run all over your frame as you stare at him expectantly. Annoyed, you put one hand on your hip, while his jacket reveals a bit of your hip. Law's brain is rebooting every second and he takes a small step backwards.
"Listen, I wanted to talk to you, can I maybe come in?" Wow, he can speak… but his gaze remains on your slightly covered chest. He can't quite process the sight, but he can't look away either.
"Hey, my eyes are up here! But of course, come in…" You cross your arms in front of your chest and go back into the room, while Law closes the door behind him.
Over the last few weeks, he has often wished to see you in his jacket, but he wouldn't have expected such a sight. He wouldn't have dared to view you so nakedly and yet you're standing in front of him. Nakedly... His jacket shows just enough of your skin to feed any fantasies.
You don't miss his stare and you decide to be bold.
"Well, do you like what you see?" You walk towards him with dangerously slow steps. Your eyes are locked and neither of you dares to turn away.
Law can't and you don't want to.
"You wanted to talk to me?" You walk right past him and sit down on your bed… He could only catch your beautiful scent.
"Listen, I don't want any tension between us. Not if I leave tomorrow…" - "Then why don't we release the tension together?" You lean back on your elbows with a playful grin. Law's jacket falls further to the side, revealing more of your fine skin to him. For a split second, his eyes go back to your chest, but he quickly regrets that he can't control himself. You're pleased though, that's exactly how you want to see him. Usually you are the one who always have heavy feelings and Law is the one who keeps his cool, but not today.
You run one hand over your free hip and bring your fingers to your breast. Without making a single sound, Law stares at you with his eyes, looking tortured, as if he can't control himself for much longer.
You don't care about anything from now on. You want Law. Now.
You carefully grab the sides of the jacket to expose your breasts. Law comes closer to the bed, right up to the edge, and even though he doesn't look very satisfied, the excitement gathers in your stomach.
"Please don't y/n…" He begs you, full of agony… but his eyes fly shamelessly over your body. His chest rises and falls a little faster…
But you can't help it either. How could you? After all, he's making it difficult for you too.
The way he stands in front of you, with a look that actually undresses you, which he just can't admit. And the sight of him in his black button up shirt, which he always wears slightly open… His eyes follow your movements greedily, even desperately. You know he wants you. He can't deny that.
But before you can expose yourself, Law grabs your hands and stops you. Your world is shaken for a moment, because Law is suddenly very close to you. His stormy gaze pierces through your skull and you notice a slight anger rising in him.
"Stop y/n!" He orders you. You're pretty good at the anger thing too, if not ten times better! You push him away from you, causing him to take a step back and you stand up. You don't let him refuse you any longer and with quick steps you brazenly fall into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck and your bare chests meet.
"I can't do this any longer Law. Please don't push me away from you." You whisper your words to him as you reveal your most desperate wish.
You're being too much for Law right now, especially since he's leaving the crew tomorrow… But he's actually only doing it for you. He has to do it.
"y/n please understand. We shouldn't be doing this. Who knows when I'll be back…" His words leave a bitter taste in your mouth.
You avert your eyes from him, feeling so exposed.
"What if I don't come back?" he searches your gaze and takes your chin to pull your face towards him. A little hesitantly, you look into his eyes.
"I don't care if today might be the first and last time, Law." Law can tell from your eyes how serious you are.
"What if I break your heart y/n? I have plans. Plans that are dangerous." He caringly strokes your cheek with his hand.
You enjoy his gentle touch and it leaves a warmth that doesn't seem to disappear. You hate it when he's like this… People say; live like it's your last day… but Law hasn't understood the real message behind it. Law lives, as if he could die any day and that's why he keeps his loved ones away, so he doesn't cause too much pain if something goes wrong on his missions.
"Law, I don't want to keep wondering what could be, what WE could be. I don't want to live lies…" You rest your hands on his chest and Law wraps an arm around you, to pull you closer to him. He leaves no space between the two of you and you're not sure if you can feel your heartbeat or his.
"Are you sure?" He looks like he just wants to make sure you're ready to take that risk. His voice is almost desperate, as if he will break if you pull back.
"Oh Law, even if it is just once." Law puts his hand over his eyes as he leans his head back. Apparently he is still struggling with himself. Groaning, he runs his fingers over his nose as he squints his eyes.
His fiery gaze sparks excitement in you as he looks into your eyes again.
"Fuck y/n."
You close your eyes as he finally closes the gap between you and his lips rest on yours.
His hands run along your hips as if he had already touched you thousands of times. His touch leaves marks on your skin that you can't see but you do feel.
As you greedily feast on each other's lips, Law grabs your thighs and pulls you up. You wrap your legs around him to support yourself better. One of your hands rests on his shoulder while the other strokes his cheek. For a brief moment, you part your lips to look into each other's eyes. You can finally feel him.
With you in his arms, he walks to your bed and sits down. He leans back a little to enjoy the sight of you and an outright naughty grin appears on his lips.
"Take off your coat for me y/n." No matter how demanding his words are, his voice is begging you. It sends shivers down your spine and without hesitation you slowly brush the jacket down your shoulders.
Law's pupils dilate at the sight of your already hardening nipples. You can no longer ignore the throbbing in your middle and you notice how everything in your abdomen tightens. The feeling is as tormenting, as it is satisfying and impatiently you start to rub back and forth on Law's lap. You don't want to wait long and reach for his belt to undo his pants.
Law's hands go straight to your hips and stop you with all his strength. You look at him in confusion.
"Easy easy, y/n… Now that we're crossing that line, I want to take all the time in the world." His voice is so sensual that it drives you insane and you stop to let go of the belt, only for Law to take the lead. He squeezes you lightly on his erection, causing a shiver of pleasure run through your whole body.
His thumbs press lightly into your inner thighs as he moves towards your panties.
The closer he gets to your underwear, the more you lose yourself in the moment.
You feel the need to touch yourself and without any shame you start to knead your breasts while Law moves you rhythmically over his boner.
If you are almost losing your mind because of this, then you are even more excited, to see what happens when Law enters you.
"You do so well for me y/n. Don't stop touching yourself. Show me where to touch you." He moans seductively to you.
A little hesitantly, you grab his hand and place it on your stomach, just above your panties. Without taking your eyes off him, you slide his hand in your pants and under your underwear, while lifting yourself slightly from Law, so that he can move between your wet folds.
Law is visibly pleased that you decide to lead him straight to that spot and his body responds immediately when he feels your dampness.
With great tenderness, he sinks a finger inside you, carefully observing every little reaction on your face.
You would never have expected that just one of his fingers would trigger so many feelings in you and you let your head fall back.
Law, on the other hand, who is getting hungrier and hungrier, leaves your wet hole and comes up to you, to engage you in a sinful tongue kiss. His hands go over every curve of your body and make sure that a thousand blissful emotions run through your body.
With you in his arms, he turns around that you are now lying under him.
He rests his hands on your knees as he looks down at you while standing between your legs.
As if in a trance, you watch him while he finally takes off his shirt and he enjoys the way you look at him. He proudly presents himself above you and your eyes are allowed to wander over his chest for the first time without any sense of shame.
Law skillfully moves his hands to make sure you are free from your pants and enjoys the sight of you lying in front of him in just your underwear.
He strokes your folds with his hand and the pressure makes sure that your slip gets a little soaked. Law runs his tongue over his lips as if imagining what he might do to you first.
You can hardly ignore the bulge in his pants. The imprint of his hard cock is even more pleasing than you could ever imagine and you can feel your arousal growing.
With pleading eyes, you beg for release. Law just gives you a dirty grin, which makes your heart skip a beat.
"You needy bitch." There's something almost dangerous in his voice, but you're ready to surrender to him completely.
When you hear Law open his pants, you have to pull yourself together to keep your greedy cunt from pressing against his dick. You swing awkwardly back and forth to compensate the pressing feeling between your legs which makes Law laugh.
He gently places his tip at the entrance to your little hole while you are still wearing your underwear.
These indirect touches make you lose your mind and to relieve the tension you play with your nipples.
Law enjoys the sight, every sound you make and the way you touch yourself. He takes his time as he slides his cock over your folds.
It feels like an eternity has passed while Law plays with you.
You close your eyes and let the feelings inside you build up and when you feel Law push your panties aside, your breathing stops.
You get chills as his member touches your soft pussy but he doesn't penetrate. No, no. He smears himself with your natural juices as he rubs his bare cock against you. The warm feeling of his skin on your clit sends a tingle through your body and makes you moan loudly.
Right at this moment, Law can take no more and sinks his tip into you. You are quite tight, which makes him moan as he slowly but firmly penetrates you. You let your eyes fall back as the sensation overwhelms you. Law's tenderness kills your patience.
"Please fuck me hard, Law." Weakly, you blink at him. You can't take any more, you need to release your built up feelings and the only one who can make sure you're satisfied is Law.
"As you wish." Law's lips go up again, you're driving him crazy… the way you're lying there. Like a goddess with one arm over your head and one hand on your beautiful breast. And the way you look… you look so needy. It drives him wild.
Without hesitating for long, he grabs you by your ass and pulls you towards him. Without any real problems, his member disappears completely inside you because you are so wonderfully wet. He grabs the back of your knees while you stretch your back. He penetrates you repeatedly with steady thrusts and a wave of heat shoots through your body. His movements are so energetic that you curl your toes.
"Show me your beautiful eyes y/n." he calls out to you.
Weakly, you open your eyes to look into his deep and intimidating eyes. Law leans your legs against his shoulders, allowing him to penetrate you even deeper. The fulfilling feeling between your legs is a little painful, but when he pulls out again, you immediately miss the aching pain.
"Oh… Law!" Your breathing is out of control, you can't keep up with his pace as Law gets faster and faster.
His breathing gets increasingly louder and sweat forms on his forehead. You are almost at the end but before you reach your climax, Law pushes one last time and his cock leaves your dilated hole. You immediately miss the filling feeling Law gave you but don't worry Law just wants to pull you up to turn you over.
His hand pushes your back down and your ass sticks up in the air for him. Before you can really realize what is happening to you, he is already thrusting inside you and all you can hear is the naughty smacking of your bare skin.
The blood rushes to your head and you struggle to keep your legs steady as Law doesn't stop at pounding into you like it's the last time. His fingers bury themselves in the soft skin of your ass as he moans in a muffled voice.
With one hand he grabs you by your hair and pulls you towards him so that you touch his chest with your back, while he continues to fuck your sweet cunt sore.
"I will always come back to you y/n" He whispers the words so lovingly in your ear that tears come to your eyes. You still can't live with the thought of him leaving tomorrow.
"I love you Law." Law's arm wraps around your torso and massages your breast. The gentle touches and the constant pounding push you to your limits and suddenly every tension in your body is released. You've come and while Law hasn't finished yet, you try to keep your wobbly legs upright.
Law notices that you are struggling to keep your figure upright and places you back on his lap while he lies on his back. Your legs feel numb and you are quite overstimulated at the moment.
"Come on y/n, I'm almost done."
He grabs you by your hips to move you up and down. If it were up to you, you would be enjoying him all night but Law needs his sleep so you savor the last few moments.
With his final thrust, he fills you with his seed and sends himself to a well deserved orgasm.
He pulls your tired body down to him and kisses your forehead, while you rest on his upper body and close your eyes.
"Law let me come with you, please." He brushes a strand of hair out of your face and thinks for a moment.
"You should go to sleep now y/n." You were already expecting an answer like that and you breathe out in defeat.
It doesn't take long and you're in the land of dreams, with the man of your dreams by your side.
The next morning you wake up because of the general commotion outside your room and suddenly it hits you like a bullet.
Law is leaving today! You have to say goodbye!
As soon as you move to get up, you fall back into your bed. Your legs are still a little weak and your core feels a little sore.
So it wasn't a dream and you and Law have finally taken the courage. Further proof of last night is a note Law left you.
"Good morning y/n, I'm leaving at 12. Pack your things and be on time. And drink this. It will help you with your hangover."
You look at the words on the note and read them over and over again. You can't quite grasp what you're reading. Do you understand correctly? Law is taking you with him?
You are so full of happiness that you don't even have the slightest sign of a hangover, but you drink the water anyway and take the pill that Law has put on your bedside table.
You hastily get ready and pack the essentials and when you look at the clock, it's almost 12 o'clock.
Leaving your room, you grab your sword and run down the corridors of the Polar Tang. When you arrive on deck, all your friends are already gathered to say their goodbyes to Law.
As Law's eyes fall on you, a smile adorns his face as he sees your stuffed backpack.
"You got everything?" he asks as he reaches for your backpack. A couple of crew members are visibly confused, as the air between you was pretty thick yesterday, but they're glad that everything is back to normal.
"Yes, I'm ready." You sheathe your sword on your back and give him a big grin.
"Wait a minute, am I getting this right…? Is y/n going with you Captain." Ikkaku interrupts your grinning contests.
"Yea she'll come with me everywhere starting today." Nobody misses Law's loving look and together you get into the small boat, that will take you to the island.
Into an adventure… your adventure.
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Masterlist
Whew, I stayed up much longer than I wanted to. Oopsie woopsie. Nightyyyy ❤
𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒖𝒓𝒊 ♡
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costelloschoice · 4 months
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Hello!! I absolutely adore your first! I was wondering if you could do a siren mizu x pirate reader?? Idk it's js been on my mind lately idk why 😭 you ofc don't have to if it's too much! Thank you and keep up the amazing work!! 😊💖
-Firstly, thank you <3. And two, I love this idea! thank you for requesting <3
Those Eyes
-Siren! Mizu x Pirate! fem! Reader
-warnings: strangers x lovers, seduction, some inspo from the Odyssey, yes I know sirens are incapable of falling in love but this is my fantasy so shhhh...
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You’re not sure how long you’ve been on the water, but it’s taking a drain on you.
You weren’t captain, but you weren’t the lowest on the deck. You weren’t the one that mops but not the one that leads. Being one of the only women was the hardest part. The constant teasing, the insults…It took a mental toll on you. You were lucky that the captain even let you stay in his cabin to protect from the other men at night. The captain never tried anything with you knowing he had a wife waiting for him.
That’s why when the captain stated the boat was passing through dangerous siren territories, you were their guinea pig.The captain order everyone to put beeswax in their ears, knowing it would protect them from the luscious sing from the women of the sea.
You on the other hand, were to be tied up to the mast of the ship. Your were going to hear the legendary siren’s call. Maybe it was a plot to get you off the boat, you couldn’t care. You had nothing waiting for you at home or any luck with treasure hunting and looting. The crew wasn’t exactly the best and yet you put your whole life into this. Maybe it was for the best..?
Leaving your family behind for treasure put a large dent in your relationship with them…But you promised to bring them back treasure you can help them with financially. Knowing that you failed almost made you want to die to the sirens.
You heard from legends around that these women were beautiful mermaid like creatures that have the face, voice, and body to lure men in to snatch them for dinner. You also heard of sirens with a beautiful women’s head but the body off a large hawk. But from both stories, their voice were sure to drag you in. Yet one questioned remained among the men. Since you were a women, would it even work in you? Many have doubt but some travelers believe the infectious song will make anyone delusional enough to come join the women in the waters.
And there was no way to get out of this. You were tied tightly to the mast, surely to have brush burn and bruising after this. You arms tired behind your back, ankles together, and finally your whole body tied to the mast. Your heart picked up when they put in their beeswax, knowing you can’t call for help.
As you tried to calm your breathing, you heard something in the distance…A song? A beautiful song with an even more beautiful voice…
The captain seemed to notice the fog slowly approaching. He hurried and ordered the hundreds of men to try and paddle the ship fast. Your heart was beating out of your chest, trying to take deep breathes.
Then that voice. That voice that pierced right through your heart....
You looked to see a woman with the legs of a fish sitting on a rock. Her piercing, almost glowing blue eyes stared at the ship. She was trying to catch her prey, though she was only one woman she could easily take them down. Her long black hair covered her breast, tailing slowly moving side to side as she sang. Suddenly you felt something take over you, take over your mind and emotions. Your body was betraying you, you felt yourself starting to thrash against your restraints, trying to get yourself free.
The captain noticed you thrashing trying to get yourself free. He foolishly tried yelling for the men to paddle faster. They couldn't hear him but can see the frantic look on his face. When they look at you, seeing your body get free from your wrist and ankle restraints. As they try and paddle faster, her voice got louder.
Her voice was pounding in your ears, hurting but soothing at the same time. The siren's voice was calling to you pulling you in. The struggle soon stopped then you managed to free yourself from the mast. The men watched in shocked as you tried to jump over the boat. The captain ran to you, grabbing the back of your shirt and holding you close.
You cried out when the men tried to stop you, "Let me go! Please Let me go! Please!" You cried, trying to fight off the 5 men that tried to hold you down.
Her voice grew louder, giving you an adrenaline rush. The rush gave you strength you the strength to fight back, pushing the men off. You leaped off the ledge, soon embraced by the cold rush of water. Even in the water, the song didn't stop. This is what she wanted...
Coming up from the water you swam to her, swimming closer to her rock. You panted like dog as you swam to her, coming closer to the siren. Her arms reached to you, seeming like she wanted to hold you. You smiled as she lifted you continuing to sing as she stares into your eyes. Her beautiful blue eyes drew you in as her song did, blocking out the yelling from the men from the ship.
You felt her come closer to you, to kiss you. Closing your eyes, you waited for the embrace...but were soon welcomed by cold water again. You were being dragged through the water, being pulled around by the deadly siren. You opened your eyes to see the siren's bright blue ones staring back at you...She was now going to eat you, just like the legends say...This is how you're dying.
Now it's time to accept your fate, fate of a foolish woman.
You waited for death, but it never came. You opened your eyes to see a damp, wet, and dark cave...Then the siren looks down at you, "You're lucky enough to live..." she said in a deep and smooth voice. They voice of them women was better then any treasure you could dig up.
“Y-Yeah…Why am i alive?” you asked too weak to sit up. She placed your head on her lap, your hair against her scaly tail. She stroked your hair, making you smile. This had to be a dream. A beautiful siren was here stroking your hair? “Why haven’t you killed me?”
She simply shrugged, “You’re different. I never seen a beautiful woman like you. I spotted you a few night ago when your hair was throwing a…party of some sort. You looked so lonely as those men discarded you like it was nothing…I felt bad for you..”
“Know selfish men like that, i knew they would set you up as soon as you went into siren territory. I told the other girls to give me some privacy to lure you in..” *she said, smiling at you. While you didn’t even know but be scared she had been stalking you and your crew….or to be flattered she should you beautiful. “I want you here…with me…forever. I want to just,..turn you into a siren forever..” she said, clearly optimistic from just a few minutes of knowing me.
But, could this work? Your family has probably already forgot about you…Your crew could care less to go back to you…Maybe you’ll like it here with her…You smiled up at her,
“I’d like that a lot..”
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444rockstargf · 5 months
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hi girly :33 I was wantin to request some euro x reader, where readers dating HELLHAMMER and is cheating on her, and euro knows (also likes you) so he gives you what he knows u deserve (smut please?) he’s super sweet to you too n shit, thank u!!
yes ma'am! this is so so delicious I cant 😫 
"you're fucking up big time." | euronymous
a&w. - lana del rey
✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly @oliviah-25 @lankysimp @auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @monkeyfart
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female!reader x jan axel (hellhammer) x euronymous *not threesome*
word count: 2.0k
contents: cheating, public sex, unprotected sex, missionary
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“best friends forever” meant a lot of things. sharing beers at the bar after a good show, laughing at stupid jokes to cover up how much life was getting to you, or shutting up when he sees your boyfriend sneaking off in the middle of the night with the girl he told you not to worry about.
euronymous had been keeping a watchful eye on your relationship like a hawk since day one. though he’d never say it to your face, he hated how easy to get you were. how you’d fallen for hellhammer after his half-assed confession to you. the way you put your best leg forward in the relationship while he gave you absolutely nothing. but most of all, he hated how badly he wished to take the place of your boyfriend. but it was far too late. so now, all euronymous could do was watch the shitshow happen from afar, waiting for a chance to finally be with you.
you had never liked euronymous. whether it was because of the fear he instilled in your heart or his icy gaze that could kill any attraction you had for anyone else, you didnt know. so you kept a good distance between you and him. but no matter what you were doing with hellhammer, he always managed to make an appearance. mindlessly walking into the room while hellhammer fucked your brains out, or catching a brief glimpse of his toned build as he walked around shirtless in the den. he was relentless. 
right now, you were sitting on the raggedy couch backstage, flicking cigarette ashes off as you listened to their rehearsal. that was one of the perks of dating a band member: you always got to hang out backstage. but you couldn’t admit that it didn’t mean anything if your boyfriend never even looked your way. you watched him from afar. he was checking himself out in the mirror, spraying on expensive cologne that he’d never bothered to wear when he was with you.
the thought itched at the back of your mind that he was hiding someone from you, but you didn’t allow yourself to think that way. stuck in a web of your thoughts, your head snaps up, unintentionally meeting euronymous’ gaze. you can’t read his expression, but there are traces of desire, pity, and longing in his eyes, you feel your cheeks heating up as you locked eyes for a moment. you shot him a cold glare, causing him to sheepishly look back at the sheet music in front of him. if you didn’t know better, you’d think he actually knew what was going through your head.
he watched the way you were slumped on the couch as he mindlessly strummed the heavy chords on his guitar. the more miserable you were, the more he felt the need to reach out to you. he had been staring at you for longer than he intented to, and when you looked at him he’d even tried to muster a little smile. your reaction shut him down immediately, reminding him that the romance between you two would only remain inside his mind.
showtime managed to arrive faster than you anticipated. the bandmates began to make their way onto the stage, but hellhammer approached you with a cocky smirk spread across his face. “hold this for me, wouldya?” he tossed his leather jacket at you, it nearly scratching you. he walked off, holding a drumstick in each hand as you drowned in his unfamiliar scent.
euronymous was still standing a couple feet away, but his eyes were on you, slightly wide. you were about to scold him for keeping his eyes on you for too long, but your gaze followed his, finally landing on what he was seeing. right on the jacket’s collar laid a bright red lipstick stain in the exact colour that you never wore because he had said it looked hideous on you. then a latex condom wrapper slipped out of the pocket, landing right at your feet. judging your nonexistent sex life with hellhammer, there has never been a situation when you’ve needed one of those.
everything fell into place horrifically fast and before you knew it, you were on your knees, bawling as heavy sobs shook your body. you’d be lying if you said you’d never suspected it, but the reality of the situation was enough to throw your entire world off balance. you buried your face in your hands, wanting nothing more but to disappear. a gentle, calloused hand touched your shoulder, making you shiver. 
you looked up, black mascara running down your cheeks as you met euronymous’ gaze once more. his expression was blank, but his eyes told you that he’d seen this coming from a mile away. you coughed into your arm, your voice coming out as a croak. “y-you knew about this..?” his arm was now draped across your back, rubbing slow circles onto your soft skin. he sighed deeply. “i should’ve told you, i know. he never loved you. he’s been cheating the entire time.” his voice was extremely soft, but it felt like he’d just hit you with a brick.
you hid your face again, being hit by another wave of sobs. he cautiously pulled you closer to him, letting you rest your head on his chest. “i’m sorry…” his tenderness brought you a familiar sense of comfort. the same kind you felt after hellhammer had told you he loved you. hot tears streamed down your face. “why do you even care?! i swear, all of you guys are the same. heartless and cold and bitter.” you pushed yourself away from you, standing up and sitting down on the couch, wiping your tears and smearing the black mess on your face in the process.
he joined you on the couch, approaching you as if you were a bomb about to explode. the tears had dried from your face, but you felt as fragile as ever. you could hear music starting to play on stage, signalling the start of the concert. and instead of him being up there, he was here with you, trying to mend your shattered heart. 
a few minutes of silence had passed. you stared blankly ahead, trying to figure out how your life had gotten to this point. you looked a complete mess. your hair was scruffy, your makeup was ruined, nd your clothes were being held together by a string, leaving you completely vulnerable. euronymous sighed deeply before speaking. “jan is my best friend, but he doesn’t know when he has a good woman right in front of him.” 
you looked into his eyes deeply for the first time, seeing how he looked at you as if you were as precious as a diamond but as delicate as a snowflake. you look down. “h-how do you know im a good woman..?”euronymous didn’t even have to think about the answer to this question. he saw how loyal you were, how much time and energy you dedicated into your relationship, and your heart of gold underneath everything that you had been through. in his eyes, you were truly perfection. 
his answer was silent, but you knew exactly what he was thinking. it was only now that you realized you were squeezing his hand, digging your nails into his pale flesh. “o-oh..! i’m sor-” you tried to pull your hand away, but were cut off when he brought his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. you gasped softly into the kiss, feeling a shiver travel down your spine as his lips locked into yours so effortlessly.
your hands found his long black strands of hair, your fingers tangling themselves into it as he tongue began to explore your mouth. you began to melt as his hands wandered underneath your shirts, instantly getting access to your breasts. your nipples were brushed to stiff peaks as he massaged them with his thumbs. 
you laid back on the couch, not letting your lips disconnect for even a second. your legs were wrapped around his waist as he reached a hand down to hastily remove his belt, tossing it to the side. he kicked off his dark jeans and boxers, moving on to strip you of your clothing. you two didnt stop until you were both nude, your swollen lips finally leaving his. you panted, desperately trying to catch your breath as you started at his body.
it was good-looking from a distance, but it was a masterpiece when you were this close to it. his biceps flexed slightly as he propped himself above you, grinding his hard cock against your dripping cunt. you adjusted yourself slightly so that his tip with lined up with your entrance. before sliding in, he brought his lips to your ear, brushing the lobe slightly. “i finally get to treat you the way you deserve to be, baby…”
he pushed himself into you, groaning at the tightness of your walls. your eyes slammed shut as you scream, wrapping your arms and legs around him as you held onto him for dear life. he started fucking you slowly, making sure to watch your facial expressions to make sure that he wasn’t hurting you. as soon as your pain turned into pleasure, he could finally get started.
he pounded into you at a vigorous pace, causing the ground and everything around you to shake. when it came to his cock, big was an understatement. it was nine and a half inches of heaven that was sliding in and out of you. “y-you feel so good, darling…” he whispered sweet little things into your ear that made you melt underneath him.
he made no effort to try and hide his noises. “jan never fucked you like this, huh..? h-he never wanted you as bad as i did…” he admitted to admiring you from a far the whole duration of your relationship. everything he told you only increased your desire to cum all over his cock and claim him as your own.
you started to cry out as his balls slapped against your asshole, his long and firm fingers rubbing euphoric patterns onto your puffy clit. “f-fuck, euro..! r-right there…” you had never called him by his nickname before, and it turned him on so much to finally have you warm up to him. he sped up his pace until he was panting like a starved dog, desperate to bring you all the pleasure that you’d been deprived. 
“a-ah! i-i’m gonna cum-” you screamed as you began to gush all over his length, saturating the couch underneath you with your sweet liquids. your cunt tightened around him, filling him with ecstasy. with a few more lazy thrusts, he pulled out, pumping his cum all over your thighs and stomach, painting you like a perfect picture. your chest heaved up and down as you reeled over your orgasm. you could still feel cum dripping from your tight hole.
time turned elastic as you laid there naked with him on top of you, hearts beating in synch. then, the music outside stopped, followed by a loud round of applause. you and euronymous jumped up, hastily putting your clothes back on before heading to the door. he grabbed your shoulders, stopping you. “wait. there’s one last thing that i think we should do first…” you raised an eyebrow, but you quickly caught his drift. 
the band members came back in, hyped up about a good concert. but neither you or euronymous were in there. all that remained was hellhammer’s leather jacket, slashed in half and lying on top of the sticky mess that you had made with his best friend.
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author's note: this request was too much fun to write. i fear I'm becoming obsessed with euro again 🤭
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oops-all-concrete · 5 months
Text
I'm back with more BG3 COMPANION REACTIONS!
This time; Companions see Tav (yours/you) getting flirted with and being too shy/stunned to turn the person down and step in for them. As usual, the romance is only as implied as you would like! These can be read as platonic (but I'm happy to write romance specific posts if you lovelies would like)
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Lae'zel -
The concept of flirting tires her. Why make eyes and small touches and idle chatter that eludes to a 'something else' if you can just get to the 'something else- immediately? Assuming both parties are interested of course. Unlike now, where Tav is failing miserably at saying no- because they weren't asked "May I taste your flesh and you taste mine in return?" With a roll of the eyes and a calculated stalk, Lae'zel makes her way over to Tav and takes them by the wrist, dragging them away. If she's stopped, she glares and speaks sharp: "Keep your filth to yourself. If they wanted what your company could achieve, they'd roll around in the mud with an actual pig."
Shadowheart -
Wyll -
She watches from afar with some amusement for a time. But- watching them stay seated several times when the "newfound company" kept getting up and seeming eager to leave- she was happy to put her wine down for such an occasion. "Pardon me, but myself and that one have somewhere to be tonight." She says, hooking her arm in Tavs. If pressed, she'll elaborate. "Well, we travel with a Githyanki warrior, the Blade Of Frontiers, a chosen of Mystra, and a cleric of Shar who's had to put down her wine to come over here and apparently repeat herself." She smiles innocently, though her voice is piercing enough to send the stranger walking backwards with their hands up.
He waits with stepping in, giving Tav the agency to say yes or no on their own accord, but as the stranger starts getting a little too familiar, he can't sit still. "Excuse me, I'm afraid my friend here isn't available this evening" He says, friendly but firm. Of course he's challenged- too nice about it- so he stops being nice. "I should have been more clear-" he starts, placing a hand on their shoulder- watching them become more afraid with the distinct crackle and glow of eldritch energy. "You're either leaving alone- or with me. In a bag." He says again, voice darker than usual. The stranger gets the message and Wyll watches them like a hawk out of the building. "Apologies Tav, I shouldn't have been so harsh. I just have a special distaste for people like that."
Karlach -
This woman jumps in the second Tav shakes their head. "Woah, woah, woah!?" She yells from the distance she is, a lot of the tavern pausing their conversations and looking her way. "Yeah, that's enough of that. If they wanted you as bad as you think, they'd have left with you already, yeah? Hands and unfortunate looking face to yourself" She says, cheeky smile on her face, but her hands itching to swing. Of course the person is embarrassed, especially when some giggles start coming in from the crowd, possibly Tav too, but Karlach knows they're safe with the entire tavern as witness. "Let's get outta here, Tav. There's more drinks and less weirdos down the street" She smiles smugly.
Gale -
He's quite socially eloquent when he wants to be, but knows how to be tactically rude as well. The minute Tav starts shuffling subtly closer to him to get away from this other person, he's inserting himself in the conversation. "Oh, you've got art at your home? I've been meaning to talk to another art fanatic, I've quite a few pieces I'd love to discuss back in my tower in waterdeep filled with wonderful architecture, sculpture, Baroque- Oh! Are you familiar with Oskar Fevras? I commissioned him personally a while ago-" he knows he's hard to talk over, and he takes full advantage. The minute the person tries to talk to Tav- Gale immediately gives them an out. "Oh! I just remembered- Tav my good friend! I believe I've left a ring in the bathroom on the sink while washing my hands" Gale talks fast, allowing Tav all the time needed to leave.
Astarion -
Oh this man is an actor. A few times he catches eyes with Tav- notably uncomfortable, and he rolls his red eyes. He disappears for a moment, but before Tav can think, he's throwing himself between Tav and the stranger. "Darling- This is where you've been??" He says, and you can hear the offence in his voice. Several heads turn. Bar staff is concerned. Oh boy. "I thought you said you'd quit drinking?? And here you are while I'm at home waiting! Look how late it is!" It's like, 4PM, and it makes the stranger frown, but Astarion is yelling again before he can be stopped. "And who are you?? Stealing my lover away like a bandit!" He throws his arms around and sounds on the verge of (fake) tears. Of course the stranger is out of there asap, Astarion taking their seat and drink, making himself at home. He smirks at them like a little shit
Halsin -
As polite and friendly as Halsin is, he can look rather intimidating when he wants. He's huge and he knows it, and while he doesn't like doing it, he will use it to his advantage. The minute he picks up on Tavs discomfort, he's a shadow over the pair. The stranger just has a look up at the druid and that has all the effect needed. "Apologies, I'm afraid you're in my seat. My friend was waiting for me" He smiles, arms crossed in front of him, a mountainous man. If they don't move immediately, he leans down to the strangers height, because of course he's much taller. "Don't worry about paying for your drink, I'd much rather pay for that myself than a bloody floor." He says, voice even and friendly, but a vein bulging out of his forehead.
Hope you've you've enjoyed! Who are you looking to for help in this situation? (I take requests, feel free to ask!♡)
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gemini-sensei · 1 month
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yes please, more Robby stuff, he's so adorable. what about him with reader in a long distance relationship and he or she comes to see the other by surprise 🥺 (I think he would have a lot of trouble in a long distance relationship because of his trust and abandonment issues but somehow it works because he doesn't want to lose reader or something like that)
Omg this 🥲 I'm gonna write some headcanons for this
Long Distance with Robby Keene (Headcanons)
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🌃 Robby struggles with a long distance relationship at first. He doesn't know how things are going to work our if he and his partner are miles away from each other.
🌃 Good morning and goodnight texts help him out a lot. When he sees them, he smiles to himself and think about how great Reader is, then texts back ASAP because regardless of time zones or schedules, he wants to make the same gesture to them because if it makes him all happy inside, then he wants to do the same for Reader.
🌃 Nights on video call where they tell each other about their days, weeks, future plans and the like. They end up falling asleep on the call and one of them always wakes up to see the other sleeping so peacefully on the screen and its so sweet. If it's Robby, he doesn't have the heart to wake Reader up and watches her sleep until she either wakes up or he has to get breakfast. Hanging up those calls before she wakes up is so heart wrenching but he immediately sends an I love you text afterwards.
🌃 He will feel bad because he can't go visit Reader. He has other responsibilities and the airfare is a little pricy for his pockets. He won't bring up the possibility of visiting because of this guilt.
🌃 He doesn't have to worry though. Reader has been planning a little visit for months. She doesn't tell him, though, because she wants to surprise him. She gets his friends in on it and Sam is totally down to help plan a little surprise.
🌃 Sam invites Robby and their friends over to her place for some much needed hanging out. Robby is none the wiser to what is going on as his friends chit chat about this, that and the third. Except Hawk isn't there, which he does think is weird but it's not uncommon thay Hawk does his own thing from time to time - e.i., getting g beer to bring to just about any function. It's the perfect excuse and exactly why Sam entrusted him with picking up Reader from the airport.
🌃 When Hawk finally arrives, he is questioned about his lateness as if his friends didn't know where he was. Miguel is trying so hard not to grin while Sam secretly starts video recording Robby on her phone.
"Where's the beer, man?" Miguel asked.
Hawk just rolls his eyes and gestures to the door. "Right here."
🌃 Their little display is enough to get Robby to look and he's about to ask what he's talking about, but that's when Reader walks through the door with the biggest smile on her face. Robby jumps off of the couch and runs to her for a hug. He almost knocks her off her feet, little tears brimming his eyes. With his face buried in her hair/neck, he asks her what she's doing there. She responds with a giggle, "To see you, obviously."
🌃 Everyone cheers just to embarrass Robby but he's hard to fluster with stuff like that. He takes it in stride and thanks Sam for all she did in helping Reader plan this little surprise. He usually doesn't like surprises but this one is too sweet not to like.
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