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#i'm sending them straight to the top.
digitalcactusblog · 11 months
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oh man finally gotten to bed after packing hell so IT'S TIME FOR OPAL
opal. is my most MOST dnd pc. by a massive margin. my god. i love them to bits, but they are so much in every possible direction at all times
to summarize them in one quick phrase, you can think of opal as a barbie sephiroth powerpuff girl winter soldier. none of these words belong in one phrase together, yet we've gotten it there anyway!!!!
under the cut bc i expect this to get quite long 😂
god, where do i even start with opal. imagine the platonic ideal of a manic pixie dream girl, add in a touch of airheadedness, then give the entire creation the attention span of a magpie on crack.
that's what opal is like.
opal is also the clone of the princess of the enemy country to the country the party is currently traveling through.
BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!!!
opal is a top secret government project created as a gift to the royals of that country, a tribute to wizard hubris, and a proof of concept for a devastating military weapon that will win this country the war.
because opal isn't just a clone of the princess (her name is vasya). opal is a marble statue of the princess, carved into shape, then engraved with the magical principles and equations to bring that statue to life. opal wasn't just made to be a genetic clone of vasya. opal was made to be vasya. a complete clone, down to the skills and memories of the original vasya.
imagine, if you will, an army. there are people in it. and people die. people have families they'll never return to, loved ones who'll miss them, and, quite frankly, they're pretty freaking expensive to keep as functional soldiers!
now, i must copy paste the description block for the spell True Polymorph.
"Choose one creature with at least 1 hit point or nonmagical object that you can see within range. You transform the creature into a different creature, the creature into an object, or the object into a creature (the object must be neither worn nor carried by another creature). The transformation lasts for the duration, or until the target drops to 0 hit points or dies. If you concentrate on this spell for the full duration, the transformation becomes permanent."
imagine, if you will. a quick, easy, and cheap way to mass produce True Polymorph, without the need for a high leveled wizard to cast a level 9 spell every time. all you need are a handful of pebbles, and boom, you have sentient, sapient, competent soldiers.
this is what opal was a proof of concept for.
SO, to summarize so far:
peppy, sunny attitude! that's the barbie part
devastating military superweapon person: sephiroth
entirely artificial being, yet extremely cheerful about it: powerpuff girl
devastating SECRET military superweapon. is also from a russian empire-inspired fantasy country: winter soldier
also we named opal's creator after rasputin. yeah, that rasputin. yeah, like ra ra, russia's greatest love machine? yeah, we thought it'd be funny. her name is grigori and she has a lot of problems (opal is the cause of most of them 😊)
anyways, so opal gets created, and is, for all intents and purposes, a carbon copy of vasya. but as a prototype for this weapon, there are still some kinks to work out, one of being that, to maintain the same memories and whatnot as vasya, they need to essentially get regular software updates. but otherwise, perfect vasya clone!
except grigori starts noticing little discrepancies. little anomalies. the clone isn't a perfect vasya clone. the clone is developing a nascent personality—a nascent personality that keeps getting overwritten with every download.
the clone isn't a hollow clone.
the clone is alive.
"my god," grigori says, horrified, "what have i done? i have created life; not in the mundane, mortal way. i once posited myself on par with the gods, and now i have created life, just like they do.
"...i am so fucked."
and so, with that religious and moral crisis in her pocket, grigori decides to steal the clone and scram.
it's time to be fugitives!!!!!
grigori is a genius, if, at this point, a genius with extreme anxiety. and so, grigori has several contingencies ready, on the off chance she needs to bail. the one she goes with now is a classic wizard tower, hidden from prying eyes by magic and a beautiful grotto where no one goes. think tangled, the tower in the grotto that rapunzel lived for most of her life
and during this entire fugitive road trip, without regular downloads from the og vasya herself, the clone's vasya memories start to fade, but their new mannerisms start to stick. and now we have opal, who could not be more different from vasya in demeanour if they fuckin tried
also now, after much work on grigori's part, opal has been true polymorphed (even more) to look like someone entirely different! vasya is a magenta-y purple-y tiefling with tall horns, whereas opal is now a lanky purple drow around the height of vasya's horns. they got to customize their Look heavily (perks of having a high level wizard who can cast ninth level spells regularly).
oh also, chronologically, opal is only 6 years old 😊 when they were 'born,' they were created as the then-teenaged vasya, and while the memories of being vasya has mostly faded (not everything), the rough mental age and whatnot remained the same, so technically opal is like 22? but chronologically 6, so you bet your ass i'm so ready for the day i get to drop that bombshell 😂
OH YEAH and most recently, much to grigori's distress, opal has broken out of the secret wizard tower to go explore the world. it'll be fine grigori i'll be so careful!!!!!!!!!!
(they were not, in fact, careful)
mechanics-wise, opal is an echo knight, and while i'm not yet privy to all the deets (there are discoveries to discover and i can't wait :3) their echoes are like, something something potential versions of opal? mechanically, this just means that every time i summon an echo, i roll on a random table to see what form the echo takes, with some dnd species having higher probabilities to show up. and yes, if i roll tiefling, i then roll a d4 to see if vasya herself shows up. EXTREMELY NERVEWRACKING AND WONDERFUL!!!
also the first time i described how opal looked to the entire party, and that they were wearing a long, black coat with silver buckles all up the front, everyone was like "..............hey olive? is this sephiroth?"
and that was the first time i realized that opal dresses like pirate sephiroth. they even have a scarlet macaw familiar. shoulda named it genesis, methinks. (her name is actually ariadnoula)
GOD WHAT ELSE THERE'S ALREADY SO MUCH
opal is so freaking much i love them. last session they gave the other pc (vae) a minor religious crisis by asking too many questions about the logistics behind death rites. they tried to ambush-slam a flower crown on vae's head and ate shit when he dodged. they impulse-held a woman's hands as she went nuclear and died because they didn't want her to die alone and afraid. one of their life dreams is to swing on a chandelier.
oh also opal may have just started ww2. maybe.
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albonium · 10 months
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inkskinned · 8 months
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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flatstarcarcosa · 1 year
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also i’m going to be incredibly sleep deprived today so i cannot be held legally responsible for whatever bullshit gets posted between now and roughly 6pm monday the 12th
#txt.txt#if i can make it through work without the sleep deprivation getting to 'ah fuck micro naps' levels again that would be GREAT#because i actually don't like that! i find it very scary!#'reese why don't you call out' can't. if i have another call out before the 30th i lose my job.#which i still think is bullshit because i was told the work calendar goes w the quarters so our year starts in fucking like#end of feb/beginning of march#but somehow your /callout/ history goes by calendar year????#also the fact that i was told there are steps regarding callouts and then got none of them?#there's supposed to be like 3 in so much time is a verbal warning 4 in same period is a written warning#5 in same period is second written#6 is final written 7 is termination#so the fact that they blended my time frame and skipped straight to 'one more and you're fired' still makes me mad#also they fired one of my coworkers for the same horseshit and i'm still mad about that too bc she's a fucking SINGLE MOM COME /ON/#on top of that they literally let her come to work the day they fired her like everything was normal and waited until the next person came i#came in* for fucking coverage for the mid part of the day before firing her. like that's just extra fucking dirty.#i still need to contact the hr shit about FMLA because i can get sliding scale FMLA bc of mom and stuff#but i got hit with my health bullshit right after i had this discussion w them and i've just been so fucking exhausted i haven't done it#i should try and do it this week so they can send any relevant shit to the doctor for mom's appointment on the 20th#one of you message me tuesday and be like reese did you do the FMLA
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ln444 · 7 months
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keeping you warm, angel
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cw: MNDI+18, smut, language, fingering, cockwarming, cum eating(f), fluff (i'm obsessed w whipped lando).
now playing: christmas blues by sabrina claudio ft. the weeknd
requested by anon
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lando finally stirred from his slumber, roused by your soft groans and the repeated tugging at the blanket. his arm, which had been placed on your hips, under your— his shirt, instinctively pulls you closer. "what's wrong, baby?" he mumbled, the warm of his breath making you shiver.
you sigh softly, your fingers gently playing with his curls and you plant a soft kiss on the top of his head. "it's so cold" you murmured, "sorry for waking you up, babe". but your apology hung in the air, unanswered.
just as you start to think he had got back to sleep, he surprises you by planting gentle kisses along your skin. at first, it was innocent, soft pecks but soon his lips turned more insistent, and he started leaving marks on your neck. you can't help but close your eyes and sigh, getting overwhelmed by the sensations. the effect that lando has on you always surprises you.
"lan... what are you doing?" you whimper, your voice laced with a mix of curiosity and desire. the hold on your hips is getting more firm, making you crave for more.
he responds, his voice husky with need, "keeping you warm, angel".
you definitely felt warmer, and even more when his hands start travelling your body, caressing every inch of your bare chest.
and just like that, you found yourself with an open shirt, lando's hands all over you and sharing a messy kiss with him, the room filled with your sweet whimpers and kissing sounds.
between sweet whispers and looks, lando's hand found a way to your core, sliding a finger in you without any warning. he can't help but watch every single of your reactions, from you throwing your head back to the way you look at him straight in the eyes, your mouth slightly open as silent moans leaves your mouth.
a second finger join the first one and his movements in you start getting messier, faster and he can feel the sensations between his legs getting more and more overwhelming.
"my sweet, sweet girl.", his lips found your neck again, kissing your marked skin. his fingers are stretching you, making you see stars.
"lan... please, more", you whimper between two moans and lando start planting kisses along your jawline, "hum? what do you want, sweetheart?"
it takes you a moment to answer, getting lost in the pleasure and his words makes it even more complicated. "want your cock... please" you sound breathless. just those words sends a jolt straight to lando's crotch.
his fingers slips out of you, leaving you empty and whining. lando's takes his sweet time, locking his eyes with yours while sucking on his wet fingers and, instinctively, your thighs closes. he definitely knows the effect that he has on you and he loves it, because a grin appears on his lips.
"open your legs for me, baby", his deep and commanding voice sends shivers down your spine and you immediately obey, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "good girl", he plants a soft kiss on your lips, "gonna make you feel good".
his hand slides in his own pants, not taking time to take them off and after stroking a few times his already hard cock, he guide it to your pussy, not wasting any time to penetrate you.
your moans fills the room, your eyes not leaving each other for any second and lando can't help but pull you for another kiss, softer this time.
your legs parts, your hands in his hair, pulling it unconsciously. "lan... faster!", you break the kiss to let your moans escape and he immediately follows your order, his moves getting more and more intense and messy.
"fuck baby, you're feeling so good. so fucking good." he groans against your lips, his hands grabbing firmly your hips. his moves are so gentle yet so rough.
it's like lando knows exactly what you need, when you need it, whitout even telling him. and now, he's making love to you, just the way you love it. it's like he knows every part of you, your body, your mind.
"gonna cum, lan!", your mouth is widely opened, letting a moan escape with each thrust. he leaves sweet pecks all over your face, his eyes finally meeting yours.
"let's cum together, baby, look at me." and that's what you did, you looked at him, and that's exactly what you needed to reach your climax, meeting his sweet eyes.
you fall into abyss together, exchanging a look full of adoration for each other and moaning in unison. he can feel you clench around him as he fills you with his cum and he could swear that it's the best sensation he ever felt.
lando falls back onto the mattress, his dick still deep in you, breathless and completely overwhelmed. he pulls you closer, looking at you and his fingers meets the skin of your cheek, caressing it softly. "i love you", he leaves a soft peck on your lips, "so much", a smile forms on both of your lips.
"i love you more." you whisper against his lips, putting yours on it to share a sweet kiss.
"feeling warmer?", he chuckles between the gentle kisses and you smile at him, softly stroking his hair, "definitely".
you share a warm embrace, watching the snow fall between the curtains, exchanging a few sweet words before falling back to sleep, lando's cock deep in you, feeling more attached — and warm— than ever.
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liliavanrougelover · 1 month
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Would the TWST boys wake up to your alarm?
Summary: Would the TWST boys wake up to your alarm and how would they react to it?
Characters: All NRC students (-Ortho)
Warnings: none(?) (please correct me if I'm wrong)
A/N: I'm working on the Riddle SMAU, but it's taking longer than I expected. Enjoy these silly head cannons while you wait.
Riddle Rosehearts:
Yes and he’s grateful for it. His mother made him wake himself up. She didn’t allow him to get an alarm clock and just expected him to wake up, and that’s not exactly an easy thing to do. While he’s happy, he is used to waking up earlier than you. He probably gets up at 5:30- 6 am, I could never. He would either set up an alarm on his phone or ask if you could set one on your phone. If you set one for him on your phone, he would be grateful, but if you didn’t, he would understand. On the mornings where he wants to sleep in, he would turn off his alarm and let yours wake him up.
Trey Clover:
Yes. He would wake up to your alarm, but he doesn’t. Why? Because he has his own alarm. His alarm is set to the same time as yours because he’s not willing to get up at the crack of dawn. If you sleep through your alarm, he’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed. He’ll make sure he knows what you like for breakfast and he’ll make sure to make it perfect for you. He likes making breakfast for you so much that you may find your alarm has been silenced.
Cater Diamond:
Yes and it upsets him. He groans, flops himself on top of you and tells you to turn it off. If you do, he’ll nuzzle into you and fall back asleep. If you don’t he’ll climb over you and turn it off himself. If you want him to wake up, you’ll have to wake him up yourself. He has made a few magicam posts about your alarm. “Their alarm is the only thing I dislike about them.” -The first post Cater made when you first slept over. He tells you to turn the sound down or you’re never sleeping over again. The ideal volume is none. He’s asking you to delete it.
Ace Trappola:
It takes at least 3 alarms to wake him up and if you have that, he’ll be upset. He doesn’t like waking up and when he wakes up from an alarm? He’s not happy. He’ll reach over you and try to turn your alarm off while sleepily complaining. You can’t even understand what he’s saying because his words are all slurred and quiet. Once he’s fully awake, he’ll make complaints that you can understand.
Deuce Spade:
It takes 2 alarms to wake him and he’d be glad if you had that. He’s slept in more than he likes to admit so he’s very glad that your alarms wake him up. He’ll be a bit confused at first and ask you what that noise is. You’ll have to remind him to get out of bed or he’ll just sit there trying not to fall asleep again. He’s happy your alarms wake him up and he lets you know.
Leona Kingscholar:
It takes 5 alarms to wake him up and he hopes to the sevens you don’t have that much. If you do have that many alarms, he’ll be pissed. He’ll straight up tell you to delete it. He’ll make you delete it. If you don’t then he’ll send you back to your dorm. If you’re really adamant about waking up, he’ll get Ruggie to wake you up.
Ruggie Bucchi:
It helps him wake up. He’s used to waking up early to get him and his grandma breakfast so he naturally wakes up early. If your alarm is natural volume (not too loud, not too quiet) he’s glad that it helps him. If it’s loud, it’ll scare him. He grew up in a pretty cut-throat environment and he’s used to something trying to attack him. Please, turn your alarm down for him. If it helps you wake up, he’ll wake you up himself. Just please turn it down or turn it off. His poor heart can’t take it.
Jack Howl:
He wakes up earlier than you do. The first thing he does when he wakes up is go for a jog so he doesn’t hear your alarm. He doesn’t even know you have one. When he gets back after his jog and you’re still asleep, he’ll wake you up and offer to make you breakfast. It’s just bland cereal and milk though so if that’s not what you like, make your own.
Azul Ashengrotto:
He wakes up early. It’s what a good business person does. He’s very tired when he does though. He’s groggy and he’s trying to keep his eyes open. But, you see, he grew up in the Coral Sea. The Coral Sea is known to be a very dangerous place. Jade has said that it’s very cut-throat, so Azul has gotten attacked (probably) more than once. He hears your alarm and is sent into a full blown panic. He’s fully awake now. He shakes you awake and tells you that something’s attacking. You have to turn off your alarm and explain it to him. He eventually gets used to it. Remember to be patient with him when he wakes you up the moment your alarm goes off.
Jade Leech:
Jade has his own alarm. He wakes up really early but is still groggy. He’s thankful to have your alarm wake him up as well. He would wake up from his alarm and just kinda sit up in bed and stare at the wall, and then your alarm goes off and he finally gets out of bed. He’s especially grateful if you wake up from your alarm so he has someone to talk to while getting ready. (And he totally won’t convince you to wake up Floyd for him /s).
Floyd Leech:
Oh no. You need a new phone. The alarm goes off and Floyd lunges at it and crushes your phone. And when you get mad at him, he blames you. He tells you that you should’ve turned it off before it woke him up (Like he didn’t destroy it the second it went off). He’ll buy you a new phone if you can make him feel better after being woken up like that. Maybe turn off your alarm when you sleep over again.
Kalim Al-Asim:
He doesn’t have an alarm. He has people to wake him up so he never needed an alarm. He’ll wake up when your alarm goes off and thinks someone’s calling you. He’ll just nuzzle into your arm and murmur about someone calling you. When you tell him it’s your alarm, he’s confused. He thought everyone got woken up by other people. Whenever he hears your alarm go off, he hurries to turn it off so he can continue cuddling with you.
Jamil Viper:
He has his own alarm, but sometimes it’s best if he doesn’t wake up to it. His alarm goes off super early, like 5 am early. With how much he does, he’ll sometimes sleep through it. The first time you slept over, he slept through his alarm, but woke up to yours and he assumes someone changed the time his alarm goes off. Even though he claims that he hates sleeping through his alarm, sometimes he’ll turn it off before going to bed so he can wake up with you.
Vil Schoenheit:
He also has an alarm that goes off earlier than yours. He’ll be in his bathroom doing early morning skincare when he hears your alarm go off. He waits a few minutes before returning to see if you woke up. If you didn’t, he’ll wake you up and tell you that you should wake up the moment your alarm goes off. If you did, he’ll ask how you slept and tell you to brush your teeth, take a shower, etc. etc. (If your alarm is super loud, he’ll ask about your mental health).
Rook Hunt:
Rook is the lightest sleeper in the school. It’s his hunting instincts. In fact, if you asked him, he’d say he never truly feels like he’s asleep (He says it more theatrically). So, technically, no. Your alarm doesn’t wake him up, because he wasn’t asleep. He’ll tell you how beautiful your alarm sounds. It could be set to a tornado warning sound and he’ll still think it’s beautiful (just like you). If you don’t wake up from your alarm, he’ll continue to lay in bed with you. You don’t move, he won’t move.
Epel Felmier:
Your alarm wakes him up and he’s grumpy. It doesn’t matter what wakes him up, he’ll be grumpy. He needs coffee. He wakes up and just curls himself around you. If you insist on getting up, he insists you bring him coffee. If you make him get up, he’ll groan and complain, but get up anyway.
Idia Shroud:
He has his own alarm. He calls it “Ortho”. He’s used to Ortho coming and waking him up, so when your alarm goes off, and wakes him up, he’s confused. Was that his phone? Is someone calling him? Oh sevens, he hopes not. When he realizes it’s your alarm, he calms down. He had a mini panic attack when he thought someone was calling him. If you didn’t wake up from it, he just pokes you and if that doesn’t wake you up, he just lays back down.
Malleus Draconia:
Malleus doesn’t know what an alarm is. Your alarm goes off and he shoots up in bed ready to attack whatever broke in (At least it woke him up?). You just have to sleepily explain what an alarm is. Every morning he forgets and still thinks something or someone broke in. Give him a bit of time to let it sink in. He’ll get used to it, eventually.
Lilia Vanrouge:
Lilia has his own alarm. Five to be exact. None of them wake him up. So, why would your alarm be any different? Lilia is a heavy sleeper, especially if he spent the night playing video games. The only way to make sure he gets up is to drag him out of bed. He thanks you for getting him up and offers to make you breakfast as a “thank you”.
Silver Vanrouge:
It doesn’t wake him up. His own alarms don’t wake him and neither does yours. I mean, a loud alarm would wake him, but he’d also rush to grab his sword because he thinks someone’s attacking. You’re gonna have to wake him yourself. Just shake him awake and tell him to wake up. He apologizes for making you wake him up, and it’s best to just accept it. You can try and tell him it isn’t his fault, but he’ll keep insisting until you “forgive” him (there's nothing to forgive).
Sebek Zigvolt:
He wakes up the moment it goes off. He's up and ready to fight. He looks at your phone, sees that it’s an alarm and asks what’s happening. Just like with Malleus, you have to explain what an alarm is. He doesn’t approve. What do you mean you can’t wake up on your own accord? He thought that was just Silver. He offers to wake you up in place of your alarm. The offer is not as nice as it sounds. He essentially yells in your ear to wake up. The alarm is better.
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leclerc-hs · 6 months
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broken lamps - cl16
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Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: anon request 'Charles flying to see his lover in another country but getting so needy he ends up fucking her in the hallway of her apartment on the floor.' Warnings: smut, 18+, spitting, unprotected sex Word Count: 1,239 Author's Note: please comment any thoughts!!! I love hearing feedback. I had fun writing this!! Hopefully it's up to your standards. I'm still new at this whole writing thing. BUT ANYWAYS CHARLES P2!!! BITTERSWEET END TO THE SEASON. CAN'T BELIEVE ITS OVER. TIME TO TOSS THE SF-23 IN THE TRASH!!!!!! French edits made by @shewantsvengeance!!!!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
CHARLES WAS NOT a particularly needy person. In fact, one would say that he tended to be self-sufficient and independent. But when he was needy, he was needy. And quite demanding too.
He wasn’t supposed to be home for another two days, but he couldn’t bear the idea of having to wait longer.
For three long weeks, the absence of your touch weighed heavily on him. Your inability to attend the races due to work in the past few weeks had taken a toll, unraveled his composure and pushed him to the brink of madness.
Which is how he found himself standing in front of your door in the middle of the night, urgently pounding his knuckles into it. A suitcase at his side, and his hair disheveled. He was already hard. He hasn’t even seen you yet, and he could already feel the blood rushing to his cock.
You could barely unlock the door before feeling him push it open and slamming it shut, leaving his suitcase abandoned in the hallway of the apartment building – long forgotten in the heat of the moment. 
He was so needy. He couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t even wait to go down the hallway to the bedroom.
His lips immediately pressing into yours as he pulled you into him.
“Bébé, I need to feel you,” He groaned in between kisses, pushing you up on top of the table in the entry way of your apartment. His hands exploring every inch they could find, kissing and biting into your skin with intense desire. He repeatedly brushed himself up against your lace covered core, letting you feel just how hard he was. How much he wanted you. How much he needed you.
It was almost too easy. You were only in a silk robe, with lace underwear and a thin tank top.
“Charles,” you moaned, feeling the pads of his fingers slip past the lace to rub your clit in soft circles. You gazed up at him as he hastily pulled down your spaghetti strap tank top, allowing your breasts to spill over the fabric. His other hand immediately pinching your nipple in between his thumb and forefinger.
The attack of his hands on your nipples and your clit was enough to send you over the edge quickly. He knew your body like the back of his hand. Like it was his. Because it is.
“So fucking hot,” Charles groaned as he watched the lace of your lace underwear dampen from your orgasm. “Missed you so much baby,” he leans over to press his lips to yours amidst your moans.
Your hands roamed his body, which was still mostly clothed, aside from his sweats half shoved down. Too impatient to fully get undressed. You glanced down at his cock; it was smooth, and you could see the precum dripping from it. Poor baby, you thought.
“I need you,” you squeezed his biceps as Charles stood up straighter and looked down at you.
His gaze darkened, and you could feel it penetrating your soul. It carried a possessive intensity. His left hand firmly gripped your hip, anchoring you to the small entryway table. He stood between your legs, leaving them spread completely.
“Gonna take all of me like a good girl, right?” He mocked as he aligned himself with your entrance. He didn’t push in right away, just held it there as he stared down at you pressed against the table. Like you were his own personal feast. 
You couldn’t find the words. All you could do was nod your head eagerly.
“Look at you,” his fingers rolled one of your nipples between them slowly, “my sweet little girl just waiting to be fucked hard until you cum all over my cock.”
“Please,” you begged. You were not against begging. Especially if it meant you could finally feel him. You couldn’t slip out another beg before he pushed himself right into you. The burning stretch eliciting moans from both of you.
“Merde,” he hissed. The squeeze of you on his cock was heavenly. “So warm, ma chérie” He was ravaging you now. There was something different with Charles tonight, not by much – but a slight difference. He was more urgent and eager than normal. Like you would disappear into thin air if he didn’t grip your hips so tightly. 
His gaze never faltered from yours as his hips rocked into yours aggressively. The room was full of breathy moans and the entry level table banging into the wall along with each thrust of Charles hips into you. 
The force of his hips sent the small white lamp tumbling to the floor, shattering it no doubt. Neither of you bothered to glance at it. Too unraveled in each other. It was as if you didn’t even hear the lamp break.
One of your hands grasped your knee closer to your chest, while the other gripped onto Charles bicep of the arm that pressed into your neck. His hand squeezing your neck ever so slightly with just the right amount of pressure.  
“Charles, I’m going to,” you didn’t even finish your sentence before he cut you off.
“Yeah? Again? That quick?” He was so fucking cocky. “Open up for me, baby.” 
You didn’t even have to question what he meant. Instantly opening your mouth, he spit a string of his saliva into your mouth. His eyes burning into your soul. You felt your pussy clench around his cock at the feeling of his saliva hit your tongue.
“Fuck. Your tight pussy can barely fit me, huh?” It was so tight. Charles could feel himself shuttering at the feeling. “Need to stretch you out. Three weeks was too long?” His hips were faltering with each thrust as he felt himself edging closer to his orgasm.
A sound similar to a sob claws out your throat as his cock perfectly hits your g-spot. Over and over and over. 
“Please, I need to,” you were a whimpering mess. Charles found it so endearing how hard you would try to wait for his permission. 
“Not yet,” You thought you could cry on the spot. Until he yanked you off the table and onto the floor. You now straddling him.
“Rub that pretty pussy all over me baby,” He was leaned up on his two arms, looking at you with an eyebrow cocked and smirk. “Get yourself there.”
You felt yourself immediately working yourself over his cock. His eyes were all over the place. Looking at your face, the bounce of your breasts, and the way he disappears into you. The position driving him much deeper than before and the feeling of your clit brushing against him was too much.
It was like he knew. Knew all the signs that you were there. “Oui, mon amour,” he replied, “let me feel you.”
It was only a few more strokes before you felt yourself cumming all over Charles. The sound of your moans getting choked up as you pulled Charles up closer and pulled his lips to yours. 
He quickly rolled over you, pulling out and releasing all over your tank top, some hitting your breasts. 
You were exhausted, a limp pile of bones, as you felt him collapse down onto you. Not even caring that his cum was all over you both now. He just wanted to be close to you. 
You were smiling hard up at him. Soft laughs were now leaving your mouth, “Guess I should buy a new lamp.”
He scooped you up and carried you to the bed. The bed he couldn’t make it to earlier.
“Unless you want another lamp to break, let’s not bother.” 
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tacticaldiary · 9 months
Note
Reader joining 141 for a mission and Simon is not having it and is pissed at price for calling them and all of the other guys are confused about why ghost is so upset till they find out reader is his wife after the mission
Maybe reader got hurt and ghost goes off on price
The Price Of A Secret
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
"People get injured on the job, Ghost." Gaz tries to defuse the situation. "She's alive-"
"This is different." He grits out.
"And why's that?"
"Because that's my wife!" He hisses, slamming his fist onto the table. It strikes them harder than if he were to have yelled it at them.
A/N: It's 2:45am and I have no energy to proofread caution advised-
Masterlist
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The moment the picture of the intelligence officer joining them flashes on the screen, Ghost puts his foot down.
"She's not coming."
Everyone in the room pauses, Price staring at Ghost mid sentence. It's the usual 141, and then it's her. Sitting there with a mildly frustrated look, refusing to look at him because she should have known he'd try to pull some shit like this.
"Why not?" Price folds his arm, narrowing his eyes. "Is there an issue, Lieutenant?"
She was supposed to work from the inside, drawing out data and cracking through defences that they then passed on to people like the 141. An integral part of the process of running the whole task force, but not once was she involved in hands-on field work.
It's not that she's incompetent. No, not at all. Ghost would have his head bit off if he even remotely implied that because it simply isn't true. She got the top scores in almost every part of her training exercises, and yet she chose the intelligence part of the military to serve in. His wife was as competent as they got.
His wife.
"This is a covert operation, the fewer people the better." That's what he goes with. Not because his heart picks up at the thought of her being anywhere near what they deal with every day.
"I won't have the range I need to retrieve the data from their servers if I'm not close to them." She speaks up, and their eyes meet from across the room.
His determined, hers resolute.
Sometimes he really hated that she was so fucking stubborn. It had been the same stubbornness that cracked down the iron grip he'd had on the walls in his mind and around his heart, but if that stubbornness was what got her killed Simon would give up this joy in a heartbeat.
He'd do it for her if it meant she kept on living.
"This isn't up for discussion, Ghost." Price states, "She's part of this operation on my authority."
"Price-"
"End of discussion. You settle whatever you have going on outside this room." And fuck, he can't refute a direct order like that, can he?
Ghost sees her release a long exhale, and he knows he won't share such a relief until this damn operation was over and done with.
                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Her body is so limp it scares the ever-loving shit out of him.
Ghost grips her so tight it's as if he himself is the only thing tethering her soul to her body, boots thumping hard against the muddy ground as they retreat back to their extraction point, data successfully retrieved.
Successfully, not smoothly.
The plan was simple. They'd flank the building while she camped out near the edge of the woods, retrieving the intel they needed. A couple of fuckers slipped out of the building and went straight for her.
Ghost's stomach turns when he remembers how he found the scene. She wasn't answering through her comms, but he knew he wasn't able to leave his position until the building was secure.
Waiting felt like an eternity, he could feel Soap send troubled glances in his direction at the way Ghost was unusually silent and more brutal than.
When the building was finally secure, they'd gone to reunite with her position and found three men dead, bloody seeping into the ground in a crimson mess. The last one standing hovered over her unconscious form, over his wife with a knife raised ready to slit her thought.
The only thought Ghost had as he ripped the man away with his hands was that he was going to take the one good thing in his life away, and he would not let that happen. Not her. Not like this.
"Bleeding wound to the head, unconscious but still breathing!" Gaz called out while Ghost shoved the man's own knife into his throat. Tossing the gurgling body aside like a ragdoll, he's immediately by her side, assessing before carefully lifting her up in his arms.
It's the most emotion Ghost has ever expressed in front of the others, but he couldn't give a fuck about the looks or the questions right now. Her heartbeat against him settled him the slightest bit with the reassurance that she was alive.
Angry does not begin to describe what itches under Ghost's skin as they scramble into their exfil airship.
"Medic!" He barks the second they lift off. Setting her down, he brushes the bloody strands of her hair away from her face.
Despite the urge to stay by her side, the medic gingerly requests for him to take a step back so he could work. Ghost obliges but his eyes never leave her face.
He's painfully aware of his wedding ring pressing against his chest, strung onto a chain long enough to be tucked under his uniform. A matching one to her own.
Nobody speaks.
Perhaps they recognise the anger washing off of Ghost in waves, because if they'd just bloody listened to him, she wouldn't be laying there with a head wound.
The atmosphere is heavy and sombre. Even Soap keeps his mouth shut, too confused by the outward, uncharacteristic way Ghost was acting to make fun of it.
It's only when the medic announces she's stable that the suffocating knot in Ghost's chest loosens. There's audible relief from everyone in the place.
"Bloody hell." Price breathes, and something in Ghost snaps.
"I told you to dismiss her from the op." He says coldly, turning to the man.
"We got what we needed, son." He sighs, deep and tired, and part of Ghost understands that this was their life. But he's too worked up to care.
"At a fucking cost."
"People get injured on the job, Ghost." Gaz tries to defuse the situation. "She's alive, that's all that matters. Nothing permanent, yeah?" He glances at the medic, who confirms with a nod before slipping away.
"This is different." Ghost grits out.
"Why's that?"
"Because that's my wife!" He hisses, slamming his fist onto the metallic walls. It strikes them harder than if he were to have yelled it at them.
How long had it taken for Ghost-...no, for Simon to let someone crack open his defences until he was coaxed out and allowed himself to love again? Four years they've been married, and four years he's kept it a secret.
It's not that he doesn't trust his team. He trusts them with his life, would lay his own down for Johnny, Gaz, and Price any day.
But this? This was bigger than him, she was the most precious thing that had ever happened to him, and the safest way to preserve that was the keep it on a need-to-know basis.
She'd agreed with him, of course. In that soft, patient way she always has with him. She'd seen the paranoia in him, recognised that he needed this one thing for himself, and she'd been more than happy to oblige.
What was outside validation about her relationship worth when she got to crawl into his arms at the end of the day? Be granted the pleasure that comes with being loved by someone as protective, intelligent, and sharp as Simon Riley? She adores all of him, even the jagged pieces that cut into her from time to time, because he's always there to take care of her afterwards.
"She's my wife." He repeats quieter, sitting back down. Exhaustion lines the slope of his shoulder's dark circles well present under his mask.
"You're married." Soap is the first to speak, incredulously. "You? Ghost? You're married?" His eyes flicker down to Ghost's left hand, and then to Gaz and Price who look equally as surprised. "I mean, congratulations?" He trails off, knowing it's not really the situation to celebrate.
"Thanks." A tired, small voice has everyone's attention back onto the figure on the bed. Ghost is on his feet in moments, by her bedside. "It'll be five years in...what, a month?" She cracks an eye open, giving Simon a tired, smile.
"Two months." He corrects with a mutter, and Johnny looks like he might just collapse. "Sitrep?"
"We're not on the field anymore." She groans, pushing herself to sit up. Ghost's hands fly to her immediately, helping her sit up. At his blank, insistent stare, she relents with a deep sigh. "My head's killing me but other than that just a few scrapes and bruises." Her hand travels down to grab his at her shoulder, squeezing briefly.
"I'm alright." Her voice turns into something soft and reassuring, and it's only then that a quiet, shuddering breath comes out of Simon's lungs. "I think I'll sit to working from the inside though." She jokes weakly. "Leave the dirtier work to you brutes."
It lightens the mood as intended, eliciting a snort from Gaz. "Yes, ma'am."
He'd make sure she got checked out properly when they landed, but for now he takes his place sitting beside her. The others fall into a hushed conversation after a while, but he makes no move to join them.
A warm hand intertwines with his, hidden beneath the bulk of their combined gear.
"I'm alright, Simon." She mumbles, just loud enough for him to hear.
Simon squeezes her hand in response. "Fucking hell, love." He breathes.
And it's enough to convey everything he's thinking. Humming, she tips her head against his shoulder and lets her eyes slip shut. The warmth of his body, even through the tang of copper is enough of a familiar comfort to drain the tension from her body.
She's fast asleep against his shoulder a minute later, and the devil himself couldn't make Simon move lest he wake her now.
He wasn't a publicly affectionate person by any means...but he trusted his team enough for this right now.
Letting his own head press against the metal wall behind them, his eyes shift to meet Price's. A softer, knowing look from the Captain is all he needs to hook his chin over her head and turn his attention outside the small window.
And if he counts her breathing while she sleeps for his own peace of mind? Well, that's no one's business but his.
Reblog, Like and Comment!
(10/09/2023)
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notsosweetchan · 4 months
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˚ʚ♡ɞ Perfect ˚ʚ♡ɞ
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Warning: Twitter prn link-Smut
Paring: | Chan x Reader |
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Imagine : Chan’s hands grip your hips tightly as he slams into you forcefully, eliciting muffled moans from deep within your throat. The bed creaks under them, and the room is filled with slapping skin and grunts. You arch your back, pushing yourself against him, craving more of his hard length inside you.
Your drool drips onto the floor as he takes you roughly, “drooling so much baby ? You love this don’t you?” he taunts. You nod your head in response, unable to speak due to the intensity of the pleasure taking control of your body.
His breathing is heavy in your ear, "Fuck... so tight... god damn it feels good..."As he thrusts faster and harder, you can feel his tip brushing against your sensitive spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.
You clutch at the sheets, your nails digging into the soft material as you try to hold on to something solid amidst the tumultuous waves of pleasure that wash over you.
He smells like sweat and sex, making it difficult for you to think straight. The sound of skin slapping against skin reverberates in the small room, along with the wet squelching noises as our bodies move together.
Chan smells like sweat and sex, making it difficult for you to think straight. The sound of skin slapping against skin reverberates in the small room, along with the wet squelching noises as our bodies move together.
Your perfect body shudders beneath his as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. His hips smack against your ass cheeks with each powerful thrust, leaving red marks on your skin from the force behind them.
The room is filled with their heavy breathing, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and the wet slapping noises as their sweat-slicked bodies move together. In this primal moment, all you can do is focus on the feeling of being completely owned by him.
It's intoxicating and addicting. You throw your head back in ecstasy when he finds your spot once more with a rough thrust that makes you see stars.
His fingers dig into your hips as he loses control, his pace becoming frantic, "I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna fill you up... god damn." His words are slurred together but you can still hear the satisfaction in his voice.
Your moans get louder and you feel yourself getting closer to climax. You can't control your pleasure, your head is thrown back as he finally reaches for one of your nipples and gives it a pinch, sending waves of pleasure straight to your core.
With a primal cry, you come undone beneath him - your walls clenching tightly around his cock, milking every last drop of his release from within you.
He follows soon after, growling out incoherently as his hips buck violently against yours, filling you up with his seed."Fuck... yes... " He pants heavily into your ear, body shaking with satisfaction as he collapses on top of you both. Chan kiss your shoulder blade, “You’re so fucking perfect for me baby.”
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norrisleclercf1 · 2 months
Note
We always see Charles being more soft sooo Hb
Reader and seb are back home and Charles is racing and they send him some spicy pics and videos and he’s all pent up and frustrated and goes all dom
“Do you seriously think it’s funny sending me videos like this while I’m at work”
A/N: I should be asleep, but I'm jamming to Kpop and writing smut
You giggle as you watch Charles cross the finish line, fighting tooth and nail to get ahead of Max and winning the race. Seb was lying next to you smiling as his hand was inside your shirt and absently playing with your tits.
"Sebby, we should send him something," You whisper, which pulls Seb out of his trance and he smirks at you, nodding. "I think that's brilliant," Smiling you roll out of bed and run to your shared closet and searching for something that belonged to Charles, but also for lingerie that would match.
You come back out, wearing one of his Ferrari shirts and his favorite pair of black lacy underwear he loved peeling you out of with his teeth as he devoured you. Coming back to bed, Seb grabs his phone, knowing Charles would keep his close waiting for your messages of love and support.
"Lay down love," Sebastian instructs and you do, Seb positioning you so you could tell you weren't wearing a bra and hand your knees raised, it honestly looked innocent. Snapping the first pics you slowly would move your legs apart with each picture out you were spread out. "Should we take a video?" You ask, and Sebastian chuckles nodding his head in agreement.
"Yes," Hitting record you giggle and sit up as Sebastian messily films you taking off your top. "Fuck, Charlie, look at what you're missing right now." Seb's fingers come into frame and moves down your stomach and you arch up into his touch, shivering at his cold fingers.
"Seb, need you." You whine, it's pathetic how fast your partners can get you whimpering and begging for them. "Yeah, since Charles isn't here, should I be the one to eat you out?" He asks and you nod, which has him passing you the phone.
You turn it just in time to film the blonde curls going down on you, deciding to fuck with Charles some more you turn the camera to catch your face as you moan loudly and lewdly. Sebastian was good at eating you out, but Charles was something different and he prided himself on being the best at it.
-----------------
Charles swears he's ready to break his phone as he hears your loud moans, your shaking hand as you turn the camera back round to Sebastian lifting his face up all wet and lips red, licking them. "He should've been here not doing a silly race," Sebastian teased and Charles groans squeezing his hard cock, thinking about how much he going to fuck that mouth of his, and your pussy and making sure your both feeling him for days after.
He watches as he slowly pumps himself through his champagne and sweat soaked race suit. Watching as you gasp and shiver, Seb having going back down on you and from the looks of it was sucking on your clit while his tongue moves fast over your folds. "Fuck! Oh god," You shake dropping the phone and Charles groans as he tightens his hand and comes undone with you, not even caring about the mess he just made.
Closing out the video he clicks your name and waits for it, but obviously neither of you pick up, Sebastian was clearly giving you aftercare right now.
Voicemail. "When I get home you two, you aren't going to walk straight for a fucking week, touching each other when I'm not there? Both of you are such fucking needy sluts, better be ready when I get home babies, see you in three hours." Hanging up the phone Charles chuckles at their boldness. You'd both regret it.
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paegei · 6 months
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ASS OR TITS?
do seventeen members prefer ass or tits ?
NSFW CONTENT ! MNDI !
seungcheol:
ass. no doubt in my mind. loves fucking you in doggy so he can get the perfect view. if you wear short skirts PREPARE to be fucked with it on. LOVES spanking and seeing his red handprint left on his favourite part of you <3
jeonghan:
also an ass dude. punishes you by having you lay on his lap and count the spanks he gives you. massages each spot he hit. whenever you ride him his hands are always squeezing your ass. lowkey wouldn't be that shocked if he bit your cheeks one time.
joshua:
this is totally not biased at all but tits. and i'm gonna say it; he is a small titty advocator. idc. likes that he can fit your whole boob in his hand size kink go brrr. he will suck on your tits all day and night if he could. likes keeping his hands on your boobs during the day.
jun:
like i said in my mirror sex fic,,, tits. so so so titty obsessed. loves shower sex as well cuz who doesn't like soapy boobs ? lays his head on top of your tits while you cuddle. constantly asking you to send boob pics. like CONSTANTLY.
soonyoung:
i can see him being both tbh, but i think he leads more to boobs. titty fucking is one of his favourite things on the planet. definetly has a collection of pics of your boobs. likes cumming on them too what can i say.
wonwoo:
don't think i've ever seen a bigger ass man in my life. gets hard just from thinking about your ass. saw mingyu take a peek one day and absolutely fucked the shit out of you so his roommate could hear you screaming his name through the walls.
jihoon:
boobs. so so SO boobs. he gets a little lazy from the crazy amount of work he tortures himself with, so cowgirl is his #1 position. (he loves it because he doesn't have to do any work NOT because your tits bouncing in his face drives him nuts) (definitely not for that reason).
minghao:
i can definitely see him loving making hand prints on your ass, loves watching the red blossom, but he LOVES marking your boobs. seeing his "artwork" hickeys on your tits drives him WILD. also considers his cum on your tits to be his favourite piece of art he's ever made (〃` 3′〃)
mingyu:
ass. like don't get him wrong, he goes BONKERS for some boobs. but... your ass makes him foam at the mouth. one of those dudes who slaps your ass whenever he walks passed. when you're riding him into the mattress, def has a CRAZY grip on your cheeks to try and control his tears.
seokmin:
he's a tit boy through and through. this mans one goal in life is to please you. i am a BIG believer in pussydrunk!dk. but he will latch on your tits like it's his LIFELINE. for sure fingers you while he's lapping at your chest, he just can't get enough of your cunt either >︿<
seungkwan:
boobs as well. his hands are latched onto your tits 24/7. rests his head on them while you cuddle, plays with them when he's upset, and he keeps his hands up your shirt while your snuggling on the couch. he's also a BIG nipple biter don't @ me.
vernon:
yeah he loves ass. doggy is his go to (well besides reverse cowgirl but that still isn't helping his case). when i say he spanks i mean it. he is SLAPPING your ass. he just can't help it, his hand prints turn him on so much.
chan:
def another ass guy. eats you out from behind (or just straight up eats ass who knows). his hand is on your cheeks in public too he just can't help it. if you're wearing a short dress / skirt, be prepared for a long night (and to say goodbye to that article of clothing cuz he def stains it)
not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ ̄ 3 ̄)づ
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writersdrug · 22 days
Text
Thinking about Simon with a goth! gf, and introducing his team to you.
Warnings: cursing, very slight nsfw, pda
Typed this up on my lunch break, not thoroughly proofread, ending is meh but it's been rotting in my brain so I had to push it out. Feel free to send me asks about this headcannon, I'd love to write more about it! <3
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Simon insists on dragging his team to the nearest pub after a particularly rough day, offering to buy then a round of whiskey. They are all reluctant at first, complaining about aching backs and heads, and Price saying that the missus was expecting him.
Then Simon mumbles something about how his girl would've loved to meet them.
"Yer wha' now?"
"My girl."
Suddenly, Gaz's headache is gone. "Must've just been dehydrated, I suppose." Soap's back feels much better, after being able to sit in the car for just- five minutes, now. And Price? Apparently, the missus was at a dinner raffle for her charity- thing, and he'd just now remembered.
So, drinks and a quick bite at the pub you worked at. It was settled.
Simon leads them in shortly after parking the truck. The other three quickly scan the room for anyone who stands out. As Simon brings them to a booth in the back, they all take a seat, heads on a swivel for some pretty thing to come bouncing over and latch herself onto him.
"Gonna hit the head." Simon says. "I'll put our drinks in- she'll bring 'em over, she'll be done with 'er shift soon."
As he leaves, Soap, Gaz, and Price all sit there in a few moments of observatory silence. It's much harder to sample the crowd, they realize, since there's apparently no dress code for the servers. Johnny eyes each person like a hawk, until he sees a potential pick.
"Tha' one." He says, nodding towards a busty, long-legged blonde. Price and Gaz follow his line of sight to her as she leans against the bar, playing with her hair and laughing at something her friend says. Her bootcut jeans and frilly top accentuate her curves, and it's obvious that every man in her vicinity is ogling. "Twenty on 'er. Seems like he'd be into swimsuit models, eh?"
Gaz humms, scrunching his nose disapprovingly. "Nah, mate- too simple."
"Feck is simple 'bout 'er?"
"I mean for Simon." Gaz corrects Soap. "Don't think he'd want someone so... ditzy- no offense to her." He adds. "I think he wants a girl who can hold her own, in the physical and the figurative sense. Someone..." he narrows his eyes, searching through the crowd of people. "Like her."
He discretely points to a woman across the bar. She's playing darts with a few people, and hits the bullseye perfectly just as Soap and Price look her way. Her tank top and cargo pants show how defined, yet lean her muscles are. She looks like she could last a few decent minutes in a brawl. "I bet on her."
"Well I'll raise ye forty - I ken LT wants someone more... passive."
"Forty it is, then. I'd love to have you pay my bill tonight."
"If I may..." Price chimes in, leaning against the back of the booth with a smug look, arms folded over his chest, "I'd love to get in on this little game o' yours, and walk away with eighty pounds t'night - because you're both wrong."
Soap smirks. "And how's tha', Cap?"
Price smooths his fingers over his mutton chops. "Well, for starters, I'm a bit ashamed o' you boys. Neither of those girls actually work here, do they? Mm?"
Gaz groans, letting his head drop against the wall behind him. It takes Soap another moment, but then he remembers Simon saying this was where you worked. The whole point of them going to this specific pub was because you'd already be here, on the clock.
"Shite..." he mumbles.
"Alright, sir." Gaz says defeatedly. "Lay it on us."
Price leans his elbows on the table and points his finger straight ahead; Gaz and Soap both follow it to the bar, where a sweet-looking girl is punching orders into a server tablet. She has long, silky, red hair, and a petite frame. She smiles so kindly at every patron who speaks to her, and when she makes their drinks, she is quick with it, still engaging in conversation as she shakes the mixer with a powerful arm. Despite the crowd, she seems to be managing fine on her own.
"Her." Price says, tucking his hand back onto the table. "Y' see that face? The way she talks to 'em all? How she's soft and tough at the same time? Imagine that birdie tucked under his wing, eh?"
Soap and Gaz can imagine it. She's a cute little thing, a social butterfly, it seems - the perfect polar opposite to Simon that just might be the perfect fit.
"And I know he's got a thing for redheads." Price adds.
"Piss off, how d'ye ken tha'?" Soap grumbles.
Price shrugs. "Call it intuition."
Simon comes around the corner, carrying several glasses of neat whiskey. "Sorry-" he says, setting a glass in front of Price, and handing out the others as he sits down on the end of the booth. "She's on 'er way now."
"No worries." Price says, trying to hide his smirk. "Didn't know y' were into redheads, Simon."
Simon pauses, looking down at the table in confusion - then he chuckles. "Yeah, s'pose I am. How did y' know? Did she come by already?"
Price laughs. "No, son. We were just sayin'-"
"Hey baby!"
You turn the corner and lean down, squealing as you throw your arms around Simon's neck and kiss him. The other three look on with shock, and Soap is about ready to throw this random woman off of Simon, until he holds you just as tightly and kisses you back.
Price's smirk falls right onto the table when he realizes that he is just as wrong as the other two.
You're Simon's bird. Simon's raven. Black, styled hair, with black lipstick that is currently smudging Simon's chin. You have a choker - no, several chokers, wrapped around your neck, as well as a tiny corked bottle filled with red liquid that makes Soap and Gaz nervous, dangling from a chain. Long, black-painted fingernails, with small spiderwebs decorating the tips, caressing his face and the back of his neck. Your arms and legs are covered with torn fishnets and small tattoos, and you're wearing a black number with a corset, paired with studded Doc Martin's.
You finally pull away and look at the rest of them. "Sorry- nice to finally meet the lot of you." You say, shaking each one of their hands. Your eyes are striking, with full, dark lashes, eyeliner, and red contacts. Gages and a bull ring, too. Soap feels a shiver run up his spine when he looks at you head on, and Gaz hasn't picked his jaw up off the floor since you came around.
"Erm-" Price clears his throat, "pardon us- call me John. This is Kyle, and Johnny." He gestures to the other two, still watching you with a mix of curiosity and awe.
"I've heard so much about you. It's good to put names to the face." You say with a smile, shaking the other two's hands. Gaz manages to smile a bit, but Soap has the same shocked expression plastered onto his face.
Simon has a love-drunk, black-smudged smile on his lips as you sit down in his lap. "She's been wantin' t' meet you all for a while, now. Sorry I kept 'er a secret."
"To be fair, I'm usually hard to find." You say, grabbing a napkin and wiping the lipstick off Simon's face. "I'm either here, at class, or roaming around and people-watching... at night, of course. People are more interesting when it's dark out." You traced a fingernail along his jugular as he stared up at you.
"John 'ere knew you were a redhead."
"How?! Oh my god- are my roots showing?"
"Nah, luvie, he's just observant. 'S our job." Simon places a kiss to your forehead. You smiled, leaning into the kiss.
"Oh, kitchen's about to close. You wanna split a burger, Si?"
"Sure, get what you like."
"'S no onions ok?"
"Fine w' me - chips?"
"You know it." You giggle, making a show of squishing his cheek and biting it. You turn to the rest of his team with a smile. "You boys hungry?"
Price is the first one to speak, taking a heavy breath in, causing Soap and Gaz to finally snap out of their trance. "Erm- whatever you get, we'll do the same. On us tonight."
"Oooh, you sure?" You asked, raising your eyebrows. Simon looked at Price curiously.
"You positive, cap?"
Price nodded. "Lost a bet."
Simon looks even more concerned. You pat his shoulder and stand up. "I'll go punch it in, be right back." You give him a peck on the cheek, and begin to walk away - Simon's attention returns to you as he hooks a finger in the chain choker around your neck and tugs you back.
Soap, Gaz, and Price all watch, stupefied, as you land back in Simon's lap with a giggle. He grabs your chin between his thick fingers and kisses you on the lips, shamelessly letting his tongue slide past your teeth and squeezing your thigh. You laugh into the kiss, letting him devour you for a moment, before tapping his cheek and breaking away.
"I got fifteen minutes to put everyone's order in, Si."
"That's plenty of time, dove."
"Yeah, but then kitchen will get mad for doing it last minute, and I don't want-"
He chuckles, gently shoving out off of his lap and smacking your rump through your skirt. "You're fine, go on."
You smile, then disappear behind the booth, boots thudding against the hardwood floors.
Simon looks back at the three of them - Soap is staring between you and him, a blush covering his face. Gaz immediately turns to look at the wall, scratching his chin, and Price is gazing into his whiskey, though there's a lingering surprise in his eyes.
"So- what bet?" Simon asks, adjusting his hips; Soap notices his hand reaching down to palm at the fabric over his groin. "I don' remember bettin' nothin'."
"We weren't bettin' on ye pullin' her out ye pockets, LT." Soap comments, trying to avoid Simon's eyes. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out forty pounds, slapping it onto the table.
"It makes sense..." Gaz, chimes in. "With your whole skeleton look, she fits you."
Simon slowly smiles, understanding what they had bet on. "Oh... I see. Lemme guess - you thought I's with someone more... simple? Lile that blonde at the bar, is tha' right?"
"Tha's what I said!!" Soap exclaims, dropping his fist to the table. "You got te give me credit fer pointin' t' a swimsuit model first, aye?"
"Oh- because every bloke on earth is shallow enough to care about swimsuit models." Gaz scoffs. "I at least picked someone who didn't look so bloody helpless." He gestures to the girl playing darts with her friends. "You don't even know if the other girl's a model."
"Well, one can imagine..."
"Feel as though I's the closest..." Price mutters under his breath, making the other two glare at him.
"Ye were not."
"Get off your high horse, cap-"
"Well- try this." Simon leans on his forearms with a smug look on his face. "My bird? She's a model, and she's a black-belt in Judo, and-" he looks at Price- "she's a natural redhead."
They all look between Simon and you, as you stand behind the bar and punch their orders in, laughing with the other redhead. Their eyes would drop onto the table if they were any wider.
"You sly dog-" Gas comments with a chuckle.
"I don' believe ye." Soap says, crossing his arms. "Wha' kind o' model?"
"Lingerie."
Price chokes on his whiskey.
"Bullshit." Soap snaps. "Pictures or ye lyin'."
"Nah." Simon sighs, leaning back in his seat and daking a sip of his whiskey. "Not the ones I have, at least. But pick up the last "Bloodletting" magazine, and she's there."
They all sit there, a bit dumbfounded, watching you walk back to the booth. How on earth did someone like Simon land someone like you?
Simon's full of surprises, even in his personal life.
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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 11 months
Text
Ride the Lightning
Pairing: EddiexFemReader
Request: I've read a lot of eddie fics, but I've never read a "sit on my face" fic. If you could write something about that, that would be great.😅
18+ Only
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"Sit on my face."
"Wh...what?" you mumbled, struggling to focus, your mind in a post orgasm haze after Eddie had worked your pussy with his fingers like a goddamn maestro until you were seeing stars. Your muscles were still trembling, tiny ripples underneath your skin.
"You're my princess," he mused, lying back, that mane of hair covering the pillow. He ran the palm of his hand over is face. "And this is your throne. So be a good girl and sit on my face."
Was he serious? Of course he was. Eddie never said anything he didn't mean. You were a bit hesitant, wondering if you would smother him, but you trusted Eddie. He'd opened you up to a lot of new things when it came to sex and you had yet to be disappointed.
"I'm waiting, sweetheart," he sang, raising his head, eyebrows lifted. "Why isn't that beautiful pussy on my face yet?"
"Uh...okay..." you agreed, crawling up his body. You placed one knee on either side of his head, hands gripping the headboard in an attempt to keep yourself from covering his nose and mouth. You had no idea how to do this but you didn't want to kill him.
"Princess, if you're going to sit on my face, then fucking sit and ride it. None of this hanging in mid-air bullshit. I'm not gonna suffocate, I promise. And if I do, well going out with my face buried between these thighs sounds pretty damn perfect."
Fingers dug into your flesh, dragging your hips down so you were firmly on top of him. You tensed, wondering if he could breathe, but then his tongue was teasing your entrance, his nose running over your clit and you groaned, the sound deep and long, eyes fluttering shut.
Your fingers gripped the headboard for dear life as his tongue entered you. And his nose, fuck, that nose, it rolled over your clit again and again. Your hips rolled with it, seeking out what you needed and he rumbled, a sound of appreciation beneath you, that rumble rolling through your body, sending tremors of pleasure straight where you needed them.
"That's my girl. Ride my face, princess. Take what you need," he told you, nose still nuzzling against your sensitive bud. "Fucking smother me with this pussy. I can take it."
"Fuck..." you groaned, rocking your hips over him. Eddie had his tongue out and you rolled across it, from entrance to clit and back again. His nose and tongue, the combination of the two, were sending your pleasure center into overdrive.
You keened, back arching and felt Eddie groan, only spurring you on more. Your hips rotated, swirling his nose around your clit in circles. Following your lead, Eddie's tongue slid inside you again, fucking you long and slow. His hands gripped your ass, not controlling your movements, just moving with you.
"Eddie...fuck yes..." you gasped, your stomach coiling tightly as your body let you know you were close. You removed one hand from the headboard, tangling it in his hair, gripping hard, pulling it away from the scalp and he growled, fingertips digging into flesh so hard you knew you would have marks and that only made this that much fucking hotter.
Eddie loved to talk during sex. He loved to give commands, to give praise, to ask you how you felt. He couldn't do any of that with your pussy currently gagging him and it gave you a sense of control you'd never felt before. It was such a goddamn turn on. You were usually the quiet one, the one who flushed when he'd ask you to talk dirty. You never took control but right now, you were thinking you could get used to this.
"Shit, baby. I'm so close," you breathed, driving yourself against his face harder and faster, chasing the high you knew was just beyond your reach. His hands slid along your stomach, up to cup your breasts, taking a nipple in each one and teasing it, rolling it through his fingers and that was it. "Fuck!" You screamed, back arching, your body shook once, twice, three times as you rode the waves of release.
Whimpering softly, your body relaxed, feeling like one of those inflatable air dancers at the car dealerships after all the air is let out. Eddie nipped playfully at your thigh, eliciting a squeak from you as he slid his hands under you, helping you to lie down next to him.
"You did so good, beautiful girl," he praised, running the back of his hand along your cheek, his rings cool and pleasant on your fevered flesh. "It was so fucking hot watching you use me like your little toy. Did you love that? It definitely sounded like you did."
You nodded, struggling to find words. They were like dry sand, solid and there but unable to form into anything. If you tried, it all just sifted away back into a pile on the ground.
"Mmm...my princess looks spent," Eddie mused, his hands taking your arm, lips trailing over flesh, tongue swirling in the crook of your elbow, before teeth were nibbling at your collarbone. And already, your body was humming for him again even as your brain was telling you that you needed sleep. "But I think you've got more in you because, baby, I'm not done with you yet."
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erenthology · 8 months
Text
Assertive
Rugby boyfriend!Eren x fem!reader
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collage au, possessive but in an infatuated boyfriend type of way. Size differences are mentioned. No matter your size, Eren is bigger than you. (Note: going to be more active now that Aot is ending. Feel free to send requests ♡)
I don’t mind if you’re ignoring me, cuz I’m ignoring you. “ he watches you bounce around the room in your thin, white nightdress. 
You continue looking for your phone, ignoring him. There’s no way you haven’t searched every inch of his dorm room by now, so you finally look at him. He’s laying on the bed shirtless, hands behind his neck, looking at you innocently. That f’ckin bastard.
“Do you have my phone, Eren?”
He flashes his teeth, “ugh, baby, you have no idea how nice it is to hear your voice again. C’mere.” he pats his lap.
You sternly put your hand on top of your hip, arching it to the side, giving Eren the perfect view. “Do you have it or not?” He doesn’t even try to hide his smirk.
”Do I? I'm not sure. You should come over and look,” stretching his arms out in an inviting pose.
Earlier, Eren’s roommate, Floch, made a joke about how he can hear when you and Eren are having sex. When you told Eren, he rushed out of the room and ordered Floch to apologize. Completely scolding him like a dad. You felt embarrassed since you didn’t want his friends to think you can’t take a joke.
You know he’s just going to grab and pull you towards him, so instead, you start walking towards the door. Eren tenses immediately and rushes towards you,
‘’Hey, hey” he grabs your hand. ”where do you think you’re going?’’ he questions with furrowed eyebrows.
‘’To ask if the guys have they’ve seen it?’’ 
His eyes flash red for a second. To have his friends see the outline of your nipples through that thin fabric of your so called pajamas? He looks you up and down, nope, not happening. You should be wearing his t-shirts to bed anyway.
 ‘’Not like that, you’re not,’’ he gives you an ‘’end of discussion’’ look, but you huff and turn anyway. Not that you get far at all, he has you slung over his shoulders before you’ve even fully turned.
The con of having a rugby player as a boyfriend is that he throws you around a lot without so much as breaking a sweat. When you’re mad at him, he has this irritating habit of lifting you off the ground and cuddling you until you’ve cooled down. Claiming it “breaks his heart watching you walk away angry.”
He walks towards the bed, ignoring your fists punching at his back. “You’re such a brat sometimes.” He doesn't mind at all though, Eren has the patience of a saint when it comes to his girl, he enjoys being the one to set you straight.
He carefully lies you down on his bed, positions himself on top and grins, ‘’gotcha,’’ then smacks a kiss on your cheek. ‘’You’re annoying.” you pinch his ear in retaliation.
“Ow, hey, you know you’re stronger than you look.” he scratches his reddened ear. ‘’I'm being deadass, baby, you could go pro in armwrestling or some shit.’’ You burst out laughing over how dramatic he’s being and his eyes lit up from the sound. Your smile always captivates him.
Feeling yourself being stared at, you grin cheekily, unable to hide your smile “weirdo, stop staring,’’ brushing your fingers against his stubble. His eyes follow the movement of your hand and begin tracing the shape of your figure when all of a sudden he starts attacking you in tickles.
You’re both advancing on each other playfully, laughing hysterically. In an attempt to roll out of his reach, Eren quickly reacts by by grabbing your hands and pins them above your head. The laughter is quickly replaced with heavy pants as you stare at him naively, your chest rising up and down.
Snapping out of his thoughts, he lets go of his grip and rests his head on your chest, “you know, it doesn’t matter if you’re mad. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable staying here.’’ he gently admits, then lifts his head,
‘’plus, I’m the only one who has a say about you in bed.” he wiggles his eyebrows.
“Gross,’’ you push his chest, apparently amusing him by the look on his face. ‘‘but it’s fine, really. I just wanted to ignore the situation, but I guess he should learn that not everything needs to be said.’’ At this, he grins and takes ahold of your chin,
‘’that’s a good girl.’’
You ignore the heat rising in your face and smack his hand away when you suddenly remember, ‘’speaking off, where is my phone? You know I need to do my nightly routine check.’’
He knows. It’s the reason he slipped it under his pillow the moment you started throwing a fit. It’s nice having the most predictable girl on the planet. ‘’You can do it later, let a man enjoy his girl for a moment. You can be mad at me after.’’
‘’I'm not mad at you’’ you look genuinely offended, causing him to snicker. “Besides, I kinda liked the whole sexy, scolding dad thing you had going on. It was kinda turning me on,” you admit, looking straight into his eyes.
His hands on your hips stiffen instantly and his whole demeanor changes. “Don’t even joke, [name] I will put a baby in you right this second,” large hands grab your ass and starts grinding your body against his.  
You attempt to leave but he drags you right back, looking at you confused. Looking down, you purr, “I really need to do my routine check,” sticking out your lower lip for extra effect.
You love to rile him up and have him mock you for being greedy and bratty. His face gets closer to yours with his eyebrows all furrowed.
“Did you just pout at me?”
“Nuh uh,” you lie and tease your hand against his belt, Eren’s eyes follow your movements then trace back up to your face, where you’re innocently meeting his eyes.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and looks down at your hand playing against his bulge. ‘’You wanna get fucked?’’ he spits with disgust, or admiration. It’s hard to tell with him.
“Know you enjoy keeping me on edge, acting all innocent when we both know,” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes lingering just a second too long on your lips. Thoughts on ways to tame you running wild in his head.
‘’Telling me it turned you on when I was commanding,’’ he shakes his head as if disappointed.‘’It's good I’m here to keep you in line. A girl like you needs that.’’
You feel the imprint of him on your stomach as his hips press you down on the bed, leaving you no space to leave. You try your best to keep your voice steady. “Just wanna make you happy,’ you breathe out. He almost laughs. 
“You know what would make me happy?‘’ Eren stands and lifts you up with him.
‘’you with my cock in your mouth.” You almost go limp in his arms from how lewd he's being. 
Giving you an expectant look, he nudges your nose with his, “are you waiting for something? get to work.” he guides you down on your knees towards his crotch. The carnal look in his eyes makes you fumble a bit with his belt, but Eren is patient. Sometimes you suspect he enjoys seeing you nervous to perform for him.
Pressing a kiss on the tip, he returns his gratitude by patting your hair in a domineering act, “make me proud.’’ he smiles, in which you relish. Keeping eye contact, you swirl your tongue around his shaft before hollowing your cheeks and start working your way down. You can’t help but gag at his size, no matter how often you blow him. 
It’s been quiet for some time now and you’re growing impatient with the lack of praise. You decide to look up at him through the tears in your eyes and catch him smiling down at you. The scene feels so filthy you can’t help but slyly drag your fingers over your panties to relieve some of the pressure, secretly humping your hips against your hand to the sound of his pants. 
He just nearly cums in your mouth when he notices what you’re up to. Shamelessly playing with yourself, mouth filled with cock, you look straight out of Eren’s nastiest fantasies, it was perfect.
He bends down and pulls your hand out from under your nightdress, “Not yet, need you to be a good girl for me.’’ Then he does the hottest thing all night, he leans down to give it a kiss. You love him. He makes you feel like a princess getting fucked by her knight.
Feeling enthusiastic again, you eagerly reach for him to continue where you left off, but are stopped yet again. Whining, you wait for him any sort of command, just to do something, anything! but he looks so unaffected it’s making you wail even louder.
 “stop whining, you don’t deserve to suck my dick.” Despite the warning, you almost do it again but stop yourself when you notice the glare you’re given. “But I really needa feel you, Eren. It hurts down there.” you were so wet it felt like you were about to explode from the lack of release. 
He's only a man after all, even he has his limits when you wail pathetically about how wet your pussy is. Now he needs to have a look. He pulls you up by your torso, ‘’does sucking me off make you wet?’’ You nod and visibly see his ego lit up.  
A thin sheen of sweat connects your bodies as he effortlessly carries you over to his bed. You take advantage of your flexibility and spread your legs as far apart as you can once he lays you down, earning a groan out of him.
He doesn't hesitate a moment further to push his face in there and peek under your dress. “such a pretty cunt, princess. no idea how often I jerk off thinking about it, about this,” kissing through your soaked panties. Your hips jerk upwards at his erotic words, desperate for friction.
“Eren, please”
He pushes your panties to the side but keeps them on. It’s like he’s so needy for you he can’t be bothered to take off either of your clothes properly, but patient enough to check out every inch of you as if seeing you like this for the first time.
Eren’s broad body consumes your smaller frame as you lie beneath him. You love this feeling, him shielding your body from anyone and anything but himself. 
 His ring covered fingers play softly with your bud, observing your reactions before lining himself against you, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. The sight of Eren being almost abnormally endeavored by your pussy as he spits on his hand and pumps his cock, increases the heat pooling in your abdomen. 
You lie still, enjoying the sensation of him rubbing and tapping himself against you. His eyes are fixated entirely on your cunt and you enjoy every bit of the attention. Not to say you’re not curious about what goes on in his mind when he’s focused and quiet like this. Like your body is art and he is studying and memorizing every part of it.
Once satisfied, he pushes through the tight hindrance and sucks in a breathe, “oh, fuck.” and finally looks up at you. His heart stops a beat when he’s reminded of how beautiful you are. The urge to hide you away from anyone's eyes but his, hits him strong but he bites it back.
Time slows for a moment as you both take each other in through half lidded eyes, and for some reason, your vision has never been as clear. His fingers thread through yours as he leans in for a kiss. When he pulls away, your eyes are still closed. Eren grins and places one last kiss on your forehead before thrusting his way in. 
He’s fucking you with his hips, hard. Hands pressing down your pelvic, holding you still for him to ram into. The strap of your nightdress has slightly fallen down your shoulders, so he pushes the fabric that’s hiding you from him down further, and exposes your breasts. The moan he lets out from the sight is pure filth. 
‘’Touch yourself.’’ he demanded, pupils dilated. With glazed over eyes, you comply and start playing with yourself, twisting and grazing your nipples. The act drives him to lift your hips to reach deeper into you,’’really thought i’d let you walk out of my room looking like this.’’ he grows almost annoyed at the thought. 
Tenderly cupping his cheek, he almost flinches from how lovingly you’re looking at him, “You’re all I want, Eren.’’ and he almost melts. When you say things like that it makes him want to keep you to himself even more, resting his forehead against yours, he looks at you with almost a pained expression. ‘’that’s good, because i'm a selfish man.’’
 With your legs lifted around his waist and upper body sprawled on the bed, you’re essentially at his mercy as he connects your bodies in repeated thrusts. Again, again and again, the sound of him pushing into you echoes in the room. 
He fucks like a deprived man and speaks like a man in love. “Does it feel good, princess?’’ You nod with lovestruck eyes. ‘’Yeah? taking me so well. making me so proud.’’ The pressure feels too intense, about to snap.
He’s stretching you on his cock and looking straight into your eyes as he's doing it. Your body dissolves into pleasure as you writhe beneath him.
Your body starts squirming uncontrollably, causing him to grip your hips ever tighter, overpowering you in strength. You let out a loud sob and rake your nails on his back when your vision suddenly fades to black. He stares at you, astonished.
He raises an eyebrow, “did you just cum?” the thusting has stopped completely now but you felt his dick twitch inside you as he asked. “Tried to hold it in for you,” you stare back apologetically, eyes still sprinkled with lust. Best part is, he knows you didn’t. And you know it too. 
“Turn around,” he orders. You obey and slump towards the bed with your back against him, hiding your face in the pillows. “Don’t act all shy with me now, let’s see your face,” he leaves no room for discussion, so you slowly turn your head and face him. He looks so big staring down at you from your vulnerable position. “That’s a good, good girl.” 
Next thing you know, your cheeks are being spread and played with. Still high on ecstasy from the orgasm you just had, the energy to perform is nonexistent, so he does the job for you.
Huge hands angle your limp body upwards, then press down your back to create a beautiful arch, only for his eyes to admire. He sinks back inside and buries his cock in your warmth.
It’s hard maintaining eye contact with him when he’s like this, it feels so shameless, almost taboo, still, you can’t look away. He’s pounding into you, pulling your hips hard against him.
“This is what you’re making me do, looking at me like that. No one else will ever be able to see you like this,” he occupies his thumb by rubbing it over your clit. The contact is so delicate but rapid nonetheless.
You nod agreeably, barely able to register his words. “Are you close, Eren?’’
“Yeah,” his hands pressed down tightly on your lower abdomen, the scream you let out is almost inhumane. ‘’yes, yes.” you’re grinding back against him in heated motions, shockwaves of heat pumping through your body.
He snaps his pelvic against your ass and feels you sucking him right back in.  He thinks back to what you said before about him as a dad and his eyes roll back. The thought of you carrying his child inside you makes him come undone.
“Ugh, fuck.” He comes audibly high etc, covering you in his cum. You expect him to catch his breath but he smoothly regains his composure and pushes you on your back, his thumb finding its way right back to your clit, barely even getting started before leading you to your second orgasm.
You scream in pleasure as he cups your face, lips brushing against your ear. “That's it, princess, you did so well for daddy. made me so proud.” he praises as he pushes your hair out of your face. 
The lack of response makes him laugh, realizing he’d fucked you to sleep, litterally. chuckling, he grabs a warm cloth and cleans you up to his best effort.
You’re usually sleepy right after sex so this is a regular routine for you both. He smacks a kiss on the top of your head and covers you with his comforter then goes for a shower.
Once he’s done, he carries you up bridal style to the bathroom. “Wake up, sleepy.” he’s back to his sweet self. You grunt in response. “C’mon, you need to pee.’’ It’s true, so you comply and he leaves you to it. 
This is a conversation you’ve both had before, he feels no need to leave when you do your business but you’ve kicked him out enough times so he knows the drill by now. Eren changes the bedsheets while you clean up.
When finished, you walk back to the bed and he opens his arm for you to rest on, your phone lying beside him. You jump at the invitation and he hugs you towards him, ‘’what do you feel like eating?’’ he’s playing with your hair as you lie comfortably on his arm. 
“Not hungry.’’ you murmur.
Eren fights the urge to sigh. “Sorry, not up for debate.’’ He saves himself the trouble and orders for you both, knowing you’ll feel hungry once you see him eat.
When the food arrives, you end up wanting exactly what Eren ordered for himself.
‘’You’re a big baby.’’ he sulks and rolls his eyes, but feeds you nonetheless. You don’t miss the look on his face as you take a bite from his hand. One thing about Eren? he can and will fuck multiple times a day if you let him.
‘’down, boy. i’m not tryna have my guts rearranged after eating food.’’
He grins, ‘’I didn’t say anything’.’ knowing he’ll do exactly that when you’re done eating.
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leidensygdom · 2 months
Text
The ways in which being asexual feels isolating
I've been pondering whether to post this or not, but I figured out I wanted to explain a bit of this experience.
So, I could go on a very long tangent on how being asexual is usually a lonely experience, and how much I've been otherized here and there- Specially in real life. How the same people that claimed to be queer (or allies) had been much weirder about my asexuality than they were about me being bi/pan or whatever.
But I think I wanna talk about how something like that bleeds in every aspect of socializing, even down to something like fandom. I stay away from fandom usually- I like to look at cool fanart and that's about it. I hate discourse, I hate drama, I hate reading people getting worked up because they're treating fanon as canon. But there's one thing I've noticed, over and over, that just sends me off my rails.
And it's how fandom tends to treat asexuality (or aromanticism). So, you get a character in some piece of media that explicitly, unequivocally, states they're either ace, aro, or both. "I do not have interest in a partner", "I don't desire to have sex nor do I enjoy the topic", whatever. And as an ace person, I do appreciate being able to see myself in media- There isn't many chases where something is established that bluntly.
Now, you decide you want to check some fanart for that. Fandoms have this tendency to make absolutely everything about shipping, even when the media they're basing it in does not revolve about that (and it's annoying, because a lot of times people aren't interested in the actual themes- It's all reduced to shipping). Suddenly, you notice people treating the aforementioned character as anything but aro or ace. It's all about shipping. "This person interacted with this other person in a way two friends would, but we gotta make this their entire personality now". Some people may instead go for "well, maybe the character is not having sex, but they're probably an absolute freak about it, studies it extensively, has encyclopedic knowledge about it-"
Now, there's of course sex-favourable aces, and that's completely valid, but it's already straying from what, canonically, the character had mentioned. Asexual or aromantic characters aren't really allowed to exist as themselves. People often see them as a blank slate to fill, to change, to fix. I could talk forever about how people react to real life aces like that. I've had people asking me incredibly invasive questions because they saw my lack of sexual attraction as something broken, something they could fix.
And I hate that! I think I'm allowed to say that I hate that! It's hard and unusual for media to cement an aro/ace character, because they're defined by the lack of interest for something, which is often hard to show. But when it does- No one seems to care. It's all shipping, it's all "well, he's gay in denial", "well, she's probably super repressed". If you took a canonically gay character and made them straight on a fanfic, you'd get angry people. Which is bound to happen when you erase representation that people identify with. But aro/ace characters are NOT even seen as queer, they're not even seen as "representation" by most people. You can erase that bit of it, put some god awful shipping on top, and people will applaud you. And it sucks!
I wish people would see being aro or ace as an identity worth respecting, not an identity that needs overwriting. It feels a bit too close to how people often treat aro/aces irl, and it sucks. It reeks of this sort of exclusionism, where "aro/aces are technically queer but it's queer lite at best, it's less interesting than being gay, and we kinda don't want them near us anyhow". Again, I've had far worse experiences about being ace than I have about not being straight.
Sorry if the post got long, but I hope this experience may at least resonate with other people who have been struggling with this, too. It has always felt just kind of lonely to be ace, and see how little people do even consider it an identity, even when it comes down to something like fandom.
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Follow You Anywhere 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You're online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: I couldn't help myself.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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"So... this is what it looks like today?" You aim your camera at the sky outside your window, "sorry, the screen is kinda in the way."
You let out a nervous chuckle and flip the camera to yourself. You make a silly face. You were never overly fond of your image on the screen but the vlogs help. Like a little diary, mostly for yourself. You and your seven followers on Insta.
You bat your lashes and fix the clip in your hair, "oh, I got this free. Yeah, I bought a new hair oil and they threw this in the bag." You let your thoughts run wild from your tongue. You found a journal too daunting, the blank lines leaving you just as empty. This is easier. "Anyway, I shouldn't have spent the money to begin with."
You give another splintered laugh. The one you let out when you're anxious, or scared, or happy, or even mad.  You bite your lip and catch yourself in your digitized reflection. You stop and turn your camera to your bedroom.
"Today, I'm gonna clean this mess. Me and you guys together."
You scour the room with the lens. Your laundry is piled on the floor and you have a stack of books you need to put on the shelf. It isn't the worst it's been but it's getting cluttered.
"But first, we'll have breakfast, can't start the stream on an empty stomach," you chirp and nearly drop the phone, "oops, uh..." You fix your grip and check the number in the corner. You have one viewer; on a good day, it's three, most days, it's just you talking to the void.
You go into the kitchen, just down the short hall from your bedroom, opening into your living room. You go to the counter and prop up the phone so the camera is on you again. You tap your fingers and hum.
"What should we have for breakfast?" You ask. You don't feel as crazy talking to yourself even if there's really no one watching. "Oo, French toast. Gotta use up the eggs."
You go to the fridge and pull out the eggs and the milk. You bring them back to the counter, shuffling around for a bowl, a whisk, and the cinnamon.
You mix up your ingredients and dip the bread, one piece at a time. You put on a skillet and fry up the slices, presenting a stack of three to the camera. You smile and dust some icing sugar over the top.
“Probably shouldn't have all this sugar for breakfast,” you shrug at the camera, “alright, quick break…” 
You put the stream onto the ‘back soon’ page and take your plate to the small foldout table against the wall. You're not a fan of eating on camera. You finish and rinse up before snatching your phone up again.
You return to your bedroom and put the phone on a middle shelf and flip the stream back to live. Still that one viewer…
“Anyway, I'm back,” you wave at the lens.
You hesitate, looking around as you stand straight and spin. Cleaning, right. Before you can set to work, the phone dings.
A message?
You go back to your phone and squint at the chat bubble floating up.
‘Looked delicious too.’
“It was,” you agree with a grin, “thanks.”
‘Don't mean the toast.’
The next message has you blinking. Your nape burns. They can't mean… you clear your throat and giggle.
“Well, let's get started,” you back up and clap your hands, “you know, I've been so carried away with work. This place is a pigsty.”
You sit on the floor and sort through the clothes. You toss them into the basket as you sit in silence. You stop yourself and glance at the phone.
“How about some tunes?” 
You walk on your knees to your bedside and turn on your bluetooth speaker. You go to your phone and find a playlist before pulling the stream back to full screen. As you do, you hear a noise you've never heard before.
‘BourbonBear has tipped.’ Huh? Really?
“Oh, thanks, er, BourbonBear,” you giggle around the name, “how nice. Maybe one day I can afford a proper camera for this, huh?”
You smile and go back to the dirty clothes. You quickly ball up a pair of panties and shove them in the basket. You carry on until they're all untangled.
You move on and tidy your desk, bending underneath to gather up a few loose pens. You make your way around the bedroom, putting away books, fixing the blankets on the bed, and straightening the little figurines on the shelf above the bed.
You grab the stick vacuum and suck up the dirt and proclaim your task done. It took a lot longer than you thought. It's after eleven. The one viewer is still there.
“Whew, okay, I'm gonna get myself washed up and go to the park. Maybe I'll post that later,” you give a thumbs up next to your head as you talk to the phone, “thank you.”
You end the stream and let out a sigh. Your videos aren't much and you doubt they're very interesting but it's like venting for you. Almost like having an invisible friend. You think you will take some pictures of the flowers to share.
🧸
You take your usual path through the park. The walks help you unwind your worries. You try to come after work at least a couple days during the week and both days on the weekend. You find the mindlessness of the routine to be calming.
The deeper you get into the wooded length of the path, you slow to admire the birds in the branches and the critters crawling in the brush. You take out your phone and snap a few photos of a blue jay before it wings away shyly. You smile and flip the cam, smiling as you take a goofy selfie. You can add that to your post.
The path winds ahead and you follow it in the din, listening to the river just down the incline to your left and the tweeting from the sky. You lift your face and inhale the woodsy scent. The sudden crack of a twig startles you and you spin to face the noise. There's no one there. Sometimes you forget other people are free to just walk on through.
You chuckle at yourself and continue on. The path leads out to a suburban street where you like to look at the houses. They're much more spacious and pretty than your grimy brick apartment building.
You come out from the shade of the trees and wander along the avenue. There's a mailbox painted to look like the house it stands before and a little nook for second hand children's books to be borrowed through the neighbourhood. Sometimes you picture yourself living in one of those houses though you don't think it could ever truly be.
As you crane your head, you sense a shadow in your peripheral. You're walking a bit slow. You sidle to the side to get out of the way of the other pedestrian. When no one passes, you look back. No one.
You must be imagining things. You shrug and plod along. You're already thinking of what kind of tea you'll have when you get in.
🧸
You sit down with your mug of ginger citrus tea and set to editing your post. You add a light filter to the photos as you shuffle through them on your laptop. The process is slow as the computer is nearly five years old now and chuffing on its 4GB drive. You get to the selfie you snapped, a stop.
You lean in to get a better glimpse of the background. It's fuzzy but there's a figure just over your shoulder. How could that be? You looked and there was no one there. That's so strange.
You stare as a chill courses through you. You're thankful you hadn't put your earphones in. You wouldn't have heard whoever it was and they may have even snuck up on you. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.
You hit ‘post’ and try to shake off the foreboding. It's nothing. You're being silly. Besides, you're home and safe now. Next time, you'll be more alert.
A message pops up. You stare at the dot over the chat bubble. You tap with your thumb and bring up the DMs.
'Stream tonight?' BourbonBear asks.
You tilt your head. You already did some today. You're tired and want to lie down and enjoy your time off. You type back 'sorry, not tonight. tomorrow <3' and another notification vibrates. A comment on your latest post.
'Pretty sweater', also from BourbonBear. You heart their comment and leave a thanks below.
You flip back to the selfie. You can't really see your sweater in the picture, just the scalloped knitting of the collar. Well, you suppose it does look cute. You put your phone down and leave it on your desk. That's enough Insta for today.
🧸
You time your shopping trip for the least busy hour. It's early and the store is almost empty except for employees stacking bread on shelves or wandering listlessly around the deli. You have your phone in the basket of the cart, aimed at you as you roll it along slowly and check your list.
The stream is just as empty. It's only just started but you don't expect too many people to be up at this hour. You stop and grab a loaf of sourdough, checking the date before showing it to the lens and putting it in the cart. You smile and announce the next item.
"Strawberries... you know I was thinking I might get raspberries instead," you say, catching the eye of one of the yawning employees. You must seem like a weirdo. It's why you typically don't film in public.
As you roll around to the fruit, you notice the count change. One viewer. You choose a basket of raspberries and show those. You see a message float up; morning.
You smile and return the greeting softly and place the berries down carefully beside your phone. You need yogurt to go with the berries.
You work down the list, making some substitutes as you tick off each item. You linger in the ice cream section a bit too long and talk yourself out of a gallon of rocky road. You lean on the handle of the cart and smile down at the lens.
"Going to check out," you say, "see you all later."
All? There's still just the one. You end the stream and take your phone out of the basket.
You wheel around to checkout and line up at the only open till. You put your items up as you greet the cashier with a smile. She seems tired as she gives a dull response.
As you put the yogurt on the belt, you sense someone join the queue behind you. You glance over as a large man stands only feet away. He's tall and burly and staring at you. Maybe he heard you talking to your audience, or he would think, yourself. You continue to unload your groceries.
"Never tried those," he comments as you take out a box of strawberry Pocky.
You pause and hold them up, chuckling nervously, as you do.
"Pretty good," you answer, "I eat way too many."
You notice the man doesn't have a basket or a cart. That realisation needles under your skin. Maybe he's just getting lotto or smokes?
"You like sweet stuff."
"Too much," you squeak even though it doesn't sound like a question.
He just stares, not saying a word. You swallow tightly and pull the last few items out of the cart and get behind it to wheel it through the lane. As you do, he looms closely, adding to the sweat gathering on your lower back.
You roll along and wait for the cashier to ring through the rest of your things. She bags them up neatly in two large paper bags. You pay with your card and thank her as you lift the first into your cart. The man behind you moves forward and grabs the second, startling you.
"Got it," he says as he places it with the other, squeezing by you, crowding you.
"Oh, excuse me, sir," you stammer, "oh," you lean on the cart to roll it to the end of the lane as you make space between you and the stranger. "Thanks, er, uh... thanks."
You turn and grab the handle, jittering. He's really weirding you out. Especially as you realise he's walked right by the cashier. He's following you.
"I can help get ‘em in your car," he offers in a drawl.
"Oh, that's alright, I... bus," you cringe as you realise you've said too much.
"I could drive you. I have a truck."
"No thank you," you walk faster, the cart rattling with your pace.
"Why not?"
"I don't know you, erm, sorry--"
"You don't?" He catches up and shoves his phone in your face, your Insta profile glaring back at you, "I paid for the milk, maybe the berries..."
"What?" You stop, just by the door and turn to him. "I don't--"
"You haven't eaten, have you? I'll take you for French toast. That's your favourite."
"Um," you blink at him as your eyes tinge, "I don't..."
"You got me through a hard campaign, just wanna say thank you," he adjusts his cap and you notice the pin on it. He's a veteran. Oh, 'campaign'. 
“Just got back home," he shifts on his feet, a meek gesture for such a large man, "and... your videos helped me remember it. Helped me hold onto it in the sh-- in the stuff."
"I... wow, okay, that's... I'm glad I could do that."
"I really don't mind giving you a ride. Lots of weirdos on the bus," he insists.
"That's nice but--"
"Please," he softens his tone, "been a while since I sat down and had breakfast without worrying about the sky falling."
You shudder and grip the cart tight. You don't know how to say no. You didn't think about who was watching. You always just assumed they were bots. Then you think of the chaching noise and the amount flashing on the screen.
"BourbonBear?" You ask.
"Yeah," he cracks a crooked smile and smooths his hand over his thick beard. "Everyone calls me Syv.”
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