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#if you're going to come on here and say 'or they could just split it into rand/min and elayne/avi that'd be even better': DO NOT
vbecker10 · 22 hours
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Hellooo, hope u r doing good , I rly like ur work like it's all amazing ♡
Can I request Loki having a friend who is a mortal -female reader- but she is a mutant who can take up body energy -like Rogue in X-Men- and that's why she was always alone till her and Loki met and she defends him infront of the avengers, and he falls for her slowly ig 😅 -smut or fluff as u want-
Ik it's kinda lame, if u can't write it's alright
In all cases, thanks for the amazing writings ♥️
You Can't Hurt Me
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: You are finally going on a solo mission as an Avenger, or at least you were supposed to. At the last minute, the team decides to send Loki with you which is something neither of you are happy about. After an accident in the field, you come in contact with Loki and the two of you realize your ability to absorb someone's life force, memories and powers doesn't work on him.
Warnings: arguing, swearing, feeling alone, pushing others away, minor injuries, plane crash, Loki being an ass to everyone including you - fluff in the end of course
A/N: I'm so sorry it took me forever to get to this ask. I'm finally going through my requests and I thought this idea was awesome! I tweaked it just a little cause my brain kept going in different directions but I really hope that's okay. Thank you for sending it! I hope you like it! 💚
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"Are you freaking kidding me?" you ask in an annoyed tone as you get up from your seat in Steve's office.
Before Steve can reply Loki stands and adds, "I have never agreed with a mortal before but I am afraid I must in this case."
You glare at him and cross your arms. He could agree with you without being an ass about it, you think angrily.
Steve sighs and rubs his temples. "Look Y/N, I know you were supposed to go on this mission alone," he says and you nod dramatically, "But Fury, Tony and I decided Loki's skills would be useful on this mission."
"Then let me borrow his powers," you look at Loki and begin to pull off one of your gloves.
"If you touch me-" he threatens as a dagger appears in his hand with a green flourish. You put your glove back on slowly but you smile to yourself knowing you made the god nervous.
"Stop it, both of you!" Steve says loudly, slamming his hand on the desk. You and Loki both sit immediately on the chairs opposite Steve, you suddenly feel as if you are at the principal's office. He clears his throat and calms himself before he continues, "So far teamwork is not something either of you have excelled at. If you both want to remain on this team," he emphasizes the word, "you will go on this mission together."
"This is absurd," Loki argues and you roll your eyes but agree with him.
"What's absurd is the fact that neither of you are willing to work with anyone," Steve counters. "You are here because you have both been written up for splitting off from the team when we have explicitly ordered you not to."
"You know I'm better off alone," you tell him holding up a gloved hand. "The X-Men never had an issue with me going on solo missions or handling things on my own."
"You are welcome to return to the mutants," Loki offers with a smirk.
"Loki, seriously?" Steve says with an exasperated sigh but the god just shrugs.
"Y/N, just because you can't physically touch anyone doesn't mean you can use it as an excuse to avoid being near people or working with them forever," Steve says turning his attention to you.
"Yes it does," you mumble and sulk down in your chair with your arms crossed.
"And you," he ignores your comment and turns to Loki, "you are still on probation. If you want to remain here, and not be sent back to Asgard, you need to act like a member of this team."
Before either of you can say anything else, he gets up and says, "If you can't work with each other, neither of you will last much longer here. You're dismissed."
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You snap your gum and click to the next page of the book you are reading on your tablet. Loki sits across from you with his nose in a book as the autopilot guides the jet towards your destination. You pop your gum again and Loki groans in annoyance. A smirk spreads across your lips, you would feel guilty about bothering him but he spent the morning calling you 'human' so you pop it loudly a third time.
"Will you stop that," he hisses, looking up from his book.
"It's an old habit," you make an excuse and shrug.
"It is an exceptionally annoying habit," he corrects you.
You hold eye contact with the God of Mischief and pop your gum in response. He practically growls as he closes his book but his words are cut off by a warning alarm blaring throughout the jet.
"What the hell is that?" you ask, getting up from your seat.
"I have no idea," he admits as he follows you to the cockpit of the jet.
The plane shakes violently and you almost lose your footing, Loki instinctively reaches out to steady you, his hand grabbing your clothed arm. You nod quickly to acknowledge the gesture and the two of you reach the control panel. A series of red lights blink frantically and your heart races as you try to decipher what is wrong but neither of you knows how to operate the jet.
You flip the switch to contact the base, "Tony what the hell is going on up here?" You know the panic is evident in your voice.
The only response you and Loki get is the crackle of static then suddenly one of the two engines goes terrifyingly silent.
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You blink your eyes open slowly, your head pounds and your whole body aches. The smell of smoke and fire fill the air and your eyes sting. You try to sit up and hear someone talking but you can barely make out their words over the ringing in your ears.
"Y/N," Loki says again, shaking your shoulder lightly to get your attention. "Are you alright?" His lip is split and he is covered in dirt. His eyes are full of concern as he kneels over you, not something you are used to from the God of Mischief.
"Yea," you answer him quietly as he leans back a bit so you can sit up straighter, "I think so." You look around in awe at the torn and broken remains of the jet scattered throughout the field, unsure how you are both alive.
"I've radioed the team, they should be here in less than an hour," he informs you in a calm voice.
He rubs your shoulder in a soothing manner and you close your eyes as a breeze blows dust around you both. You shiver a bit and realize your jacket was torn during the crash, panic floods through you when you notice how much of your skin is exposed. Loki's hand gently rests on the bare skin on your shoulder and you pull away from him quickly.
"Don't touch me," you warn him and he backs away from you, his hands up in front of him. "You can't touch me, I'll hurt you," you remind him, trying to cover your skin with as much of left over material as you can. You try to get up to put distance between you and the god but you can't put weight on your left leg, it buckles under you and you fall back to the ground. You look down and see clean gauze wrapped tightly around your calf, your pant leg torn open from whatever caused your injury.
You look down in shock then look up at Loki. "How did you do this?" you ask, noticing the blood on his hands.
He shakes his head, "I don't know. I wasn't thinking, I just needed to stop the bleeding."
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"I need to talk to you," he says unphased by your attitude which makes you nervous. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about what happened after the crash." He rubs his hands nervously as if your blood is still on them.
That night you lay in bed staring at the ceiling unable to sleep. When you first climbed into bed, you worried the memories of the crash would prevent you from sleeping but it was the moments after that kept replaying in your mind. Closing your eyes, you can almost still feel Loki's warm hand resting gently on your skin. You roll over, pulling the sheets tightly around yourself when to hear a knock at your door. You sit up and check the clock next to your bed, it's just after midnight.
You limp carefully to the door and open it, unsure who you expect to see. "What do you want?" you ask Loki, easily returning to how you typically treat each other.
You take a step back to let him into your room. You feel anxious knowing he is the first member of the team you've ever invited into your private space. Loki takes a seat on your couch as you pick up your hoodie that is hanging by the door.
"I think I know why I could touch you without your powers affecting me," he says and you look up at him, pausing as you zip your hoodie.
You shake your head and take your gloves out of the pockets. "Strange said it was most likely because I was unconscious," you remind him.
"I don't think your powers work on me," he says after a few moments of silence pass between you both.
"You and I both know that's not true," he keeps his eyes on you as you slip on one glove then the other.
You sit at the far end of the couch, afraid that he is wrong about whatever his theory is. He is right about one thing though, Strange's reasoning didn't explain why Loki was able to touch the skin on your shoulder after you woke up. You had done everything you could since you arrived back home to not think about how that was possible, you were terrified that it was some sort of fluke and would never happen again.
"They work on your brother," you remind him. You had grabbed the older prince by the wrist for only a few seconds during a training session two months ago. You were unable to contain his lightning abilities and fried all the computers in the lab. Thor spent the next four hours unconscious in the med bay. "Being a god doesn't make you special," you tell him in a harsher tone then you mean to.
"Thor and I are not..." he sighs. "We are not the same. You know we are not true brothers?" he asks and you shake your head. "Thor is an Asgardian and although I look like one, I am not."
"So whatever you are is why you think I can touch you?" you ask.
"It is hard to explain," he tells you. "I am from Jotunheim, realm of the frost giants. This is not my true form. I use an illusion to alter my appearance as Odin did before I knew the truth." You can tell by his tone that this is not a story he is used to sharing with others.
You take off your gloves and look at your own hand, remembering the pain and heartache even a light touch has caused to others around you. "Are you sure you want to risk this for me Loki?" you ask. "If you're wrong... I could seriously hurt you."
You listen quietly as he explains how he was taken as a baby and brought up on a series of lies. He rubs his hands nervously as he talks and never makes eye contact with you, staring at the ground as he speaks. When he finishes he lifts his hand and looks at it as he wiggles his fingers slowly, a green glow emanates from his fingertips and flows down his hand. As his magic travels, his skin slowly turns a deep shade a blue, thin ridges form intricate spirals on the back of his hand.
"This is just a well crafted illusion," he says as the glow retracts and the blue fades away.
"If I'm right... you might not need to be so alone," he counters gently.
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"I... I don't believe this," you smile. Tears of joy and relief gather as you slowly look up at Loki.
He holds his hand towards you, palm up waiting patiently for you to move. Slowly, you reach you hand out, your heart pounding in your chest. Your fingertips lightly touch his fingertips and you hold your breath as you wait for the pain to spread through both of you but nothing happens. Your eyes lock on your hands as you slide your fingers towards his open palm. You still don't feel anything as you rest your palm on his, your fingers settling on his wrist.
He closes his fingers around your hand and you let out a laugh in shock and disbelief. There is no pain, no burning on your skin or in his veins as his memories are pulled from him or his powers are absorbed. Just his warm, soft skin against yours, a feeling you had almost forgotten.
"You can't hurt me," he says when your eyes met.
"I can't hurt you," you repeat. He raises his other hand to wipe away one of your tears as it travels down your cheek. The simple gesture draws even more tears. It has been so many years since you have been able to feel another person, you can barely hold yourself together. You get up suddenly and walk away from him.
"I'm sorry," he says as he stands.
"It's not... you didn't do anything wrong," you assure him as you wipe your face then wrap your arms around yourself. "It's been almost ten years since I've touched someone I wasn't trying to harm. When I gained my powers, I severed my connection to everyone I've ever loved or cared about. My family, my friends, my coworkers. I left all of them."
He listens to you quietly, not moving closer.
"I'm terrified of hurting the people I care about, that's why I left the X-Men. I was there for eight years and I was becoming too close to everyone. I was constantly afraid someone would try to hug me or give me a high five or just bump into me in the hall. I had to leave and when I came here..." you look down, ashamed of how you acted. "I avoided everyone and antagonized you on purpose so no one would want to be friends with me. I thought it would be easier, safer if no one ever wanted to be near me."
"I understand," he says and you look up as he takes a few steps towards you. "I have my own experience building walls to keep everyone out, even my brother. My reason for keeping the others away is far less noble than yours. You push people away to keep them safe while I push them away to keep myself safe."
"I have been lied to and betrayed by my family my whole life," he reminds you of your conversation only minutes ago. "If I never let anyone in, if I never care about anyone, then they can never hurt me. It's why I've been so rude and condescending to everyone on the team, including you," he admits.
You are quiet for a moment, you know exactly what you want but you are afraid he will turn down your request. "Can I..." you pause and he gives you an encouraging smile. "Can I have a hug?"
"I'm sorry for how I treated you," he tells you honestly. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
"I'm afraid I am not very good at hugs," he says and when you look at the ground he adds, "But I can give it a try, for you."
You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face as you move towards him. He puts his arms around you, pulling you close. You wrap your arms around him, your hands settle on his back and your cheek rests against his chest. He is stiff in your arms but after a second, he seems to relax and lowers his cheek to rest on the top of your head.
You close your eyes and listen to his heartbeat, his breathing slows and you feel as if all the tension is leaving your body. After a moment you mumble something against his chest and he chuckles.
"I have no idea what you said," he tells you.
You lift your head and look up at him. "This is the first hug I've had in close to ten years," you repeat.
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He touches your cheek gently and says, "That is truly a shame because you give wonderful hugs." You giggle and blush then he adds, "This is the best hug I have had in a very, very long time and I do not plan on letting go any time soon."
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So Long London - Full Lyric Analysis
My Gaylor/Kaylor interpretation at a glance: Taylor uses the bearding narrative of her breakup with Joe as an allegory to talk about her reluctant decision to “break up” with her fans/kill off her public persona in the process of coming out. 
The Joe bearding narrative was likely created for this very purpose - an "ex" who didn't allow her to "bejeweled" (be her whole self), who she tried to make it work with, tried to change herself for, before realizing she couldn't keep sacrificing her wellbeing, mental and otherwise. Read through this lens, this song is devastating, so prepare yourselves emotionally, maybe have tissues on hand.
I interpret a number of the "break up" songs on this album (almost all of them) as being about her reaching the end of her rope with being in the closet and trying to slowly change her fan's attitude towards her queerness. So many of these songs imply that she has hit her breaking point, and the metaphor of a failing romantic relationship is the perfect vehicle to express this shift.
I believe this precedent exists in her work, and for this particular chapter, was established with "You're losing me".
This is also one of a few songs on the album that conceptualize her fame (as obtained with her public, hetero persona) as a place. In this song, that place is represented by London (hence, "so long, London"). In Florida!!! she may be running away to Florida from this place, (after she comes out and needs to escape the backlash). In "I hate it here", she dreams of escaping this place, and imagines two other locales within the lore of her songs - "secret gardens", a probable parallel to Betty's garden and the "garden gates" in Cruel Summer, as well as the "lunar valleys" referencing the galactic landscape established in Down Bad.
Lets get into it!
Verse 1
“Saw in my mind fairy lights in the mist/kept calm and carried the weight of the rift/pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away/my spine split from carrying us up the hill/wet through my clothes, wary bones caught the chill/stopped trying to make him laugh/stopped trying to drill the safe”
In this first verse, Taylor introduces the idea of her fans being like a partner who isn’t present in the relationship, and more importantly, a partner that is ultimately rejecting her true self. 
“Fairy lights in the mist” - Taylor has used daylight/light images to represent the end of her closeting/her coming out for at least 5 years. Here she sees small pinpricks of light amongst darkness and the classic metaphor for hiding/confusion, etc - mist. She is saying that in the past she had hope, she saw a possible path forward to coming out while also keeping all of her fans.
“Kept calm and carried the weight of rift/pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away” - Taylor reflects on her years of hoping that she could slowly introduce her fans the idea that she is not straight, then come out with minimal rupture in her relationship with her fans. She tried to keep the faith and looked past a lot of bad behavior on the part of some of her fans, convinced that she could make them see her and that their love for her would extend past their need for her being the persona they have grown attached to.
“Stopped trying to make him laugh/stopped trying to drill the safe” - ultimately, she gave up, having been rejected too many times - ignored when she clearly signaled her gayness and the masses of her fans just refused to acknowledge it. Beyond refusing to acknowledge it, they bullied those that did see it, demonstrating to her how reviling they found the idea that she might be queer. “Drill the safe” is a metaphor for trying to force something that will never happen, she is realizing she needs to let go of something that isn’t for her.
Chorus
“How much sad did you think I had/did you think I had in me/oh the tragedy/so long London/ you’ll find someone” 
Taylor now must ask her fans, how long did you expect me to sacrifice my own happiness while you continue to ignore my pleas for you to see me? 
“You’ll find someone” = you’ll find another idol/para social relationship to obsess over, identify with, etc. This is a reference to Dear Reader, when she sang “you should find another guiding light.” In that song, Taylor warned fans that she is not who they think she is ("you wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking"), that the idea they have of her life is constructed, and strongly lamented her life choices, essentially telling fans they shouldn't look to her for life advice, because she is lonely and miserable. Here, the reference not only underscores the idea that they don't know her, but also that she is making the choice for them to "find someone" else, because she is choosing to come out of hiding, and in so doing, is also choosing to leave behind the misery that made her write Dear Reader in the first place.
Verse 2
“Didn’t opt in to be your odd man out/I founded the club she’s heard great things about/ I left all I knew/you left me in the house by the heath/I stopped cpr after all it’s no use/the spirit was gone, we would never come to/ and I’m pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free.”
I made a post about the "Heath" reference that you can read here. Please note the reblog of it that I added an addendum to about the Heath being a park in London. Heath was a doctor that practiced conversion therapy, meaning that her fans "left her at home" with someone trying to change her. By ignoring her signaling, they told her they didn't want the real her, which kept her in the closet, and I fear kept her more vulnerable to those who may have tried to manipulate her into trying to change herself, or deny her true self even behind closed doors.
"I stopped cpr after all its no use/the spirit was gone we would never come to" - again Taylor is using the of a failed romantic relationship to express her lost hope in salvaging the corners of her kingdom that ultimately won't accept her when she comes out. This is also an example of the frequent gothic/death related imagery Taylor uses on this album, a theme consistent with the idea that something is ending, that she is killing off her public persona.
"and I'm pissed off that you let me give you all that youth for free" Taylor has spent so many years choosing her fans and her current carrer path over the full expression of her life and happiness. Again, she had hope that the people who have given her endless validation and effusive praise for years would accept her for who she is. She is realizing that the love between her and at least some of her fans was conditional, and given what we know of how much her fans have meant to her over the course of her career, this was likely a devastating wake up call that took years for her to accept - undoubtedly a huge factor in her seemingly delaying her coming out so many times.
"So long London/Stitches undone/two graves, one gun/I’ll find someone”
Taylor has said her fans are her longest relationship; the imagery in this song reflects the idea that this is a break up with someone she has tried with over and over again. So she undoes the “stitches” that link her to them. This line references her song Glitch on Midnights, “fasten myself to you with a stitch” symbolizing being bonded with a romantic partner (which represent a portion of her fans in this song).
"Two graves one gun" is likely a reference to burying her public persona self, and the second grave could represent her fans (a parallel to the "cheating husband" in "Florida!!!"?) or it could be a shrouded suicidal thought - the second grave being her private persona - both selves being killed off. This lyric is one of my favorites in this song but I don't have a strong conviction on who the second grave is, I'm very open to others' thoughts...
Bridge
“And you say I abandoned the ship/but I was going down with it/my white knuckle dying grip/holding tight to your quiet resentment/and my friends said it isn't right to be scared/every day of a love affair/every breath feels like rarest air/ when you're not sure if he wants to be there/So how much sad did you think I had, did you think I had in me/How much tragedy/Just how low did you think I'd go/Before I'd self implode/before I had to go be free"
"And you say I abandoned the ship...white knuckle dying grip" Taylor emphasizes her wish for things to be different with this lyric, clinging to her ship as it sinks. We all saw her try to right the ship, she's finally choosing to let go and swim to safety (a nautical parrallel to the manuscript's "my trip to your shores"?).
“My friends said it isn’t right to be scared everyday of a love affair…if you’re not sure he wants to be there”
Similar to when someone is in a bad romantic relationship, i imagine her friends expressed their concern that her relationship with her fans is unhealthy. Although many of her friends are high achievers themselves, Taylor’s success is in another league (monster on the hill) and they would likely have expressed their hope that she can slow down and accept a slightly less monumental career in the interest of her mental health. 
“How much sad did you think I had/did you think I had in me/Just how low did you think I’d go?” “before I self implode/before I have yo go be free”
Taylor imagines arguing with her fans in the throes of the break up, and in this passage it becomes clear that she is convinced they know the truth but are refusing to acknowledge it. That they allowed her to keep faking her straight persona for their sake. That she was a woman pushed to her limits by a partner (fans) who knew they were running her ragged, a partner that didn’t in fact love her, but loved what she could do for them.
 So she asks them, how long did you think I could keep doing this before it broke me? How long did you think I would go along with this, be willing to sacrifice for you? how much would she fake/take the money to keep up the straight persona?
“You swore that you loved me but where were the clues?/I died on the altar waiting for the proof/ you sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days”
The para social relationship is again a perfect match for the metaphor of a partner that uses you but doesn’t meet you in relationship as a full person. The praise puts you on an altar, but their actions don’t reflect the effusive words. “Bluest days” is a red herring to match the bearding narrative/fan rumor that Joe’s mental health affected their relationship, but also could be interpreted as the fans overlooking her truth in the interest of relying on the idea that their favorite pop star has the same boy problems that they do, their "bluest days" were the days they were torn up over a relationship or an unrequited love and needed her break up anthems, and they wouldn't have the same effect if they knew (and weren't in denial) that the songs are about women (or now about them, ironically).
Last Verse/Outro
“I’m just getting color back into my face/im just mad as hell cause I loved this place/for so long London/had a good run/moment of war son/but I’m not the one”
The first line here parallels the language in “you’re losing me”, which uses the metaphor of a relationship literally dying (“i can’t find a pulse”, etc). In this song she is leaving the relationship to save herself, and in leaving she is recovering her health, hence getting the color back in her face after being pale when sick and near death.
“This place” or London, is a stand in for the world, the Swiftverse that she created for and with her fans. It had been her life’s work, her source of pride, self worth, her legacy, but now she must leave, because it was built in large part around a self she created to make herself palatable to the fans she amassed. She can’t be that person anymore, and maybe in some ways “this place” doesn’t even really feel like hers. This parallels Florida!!!, "your home's really a town you're just a guest in/so you work your life away/just to pay for a timeshare down in Destin". She is just a guest in the musical world of the brand of Taylor Swift that she spent her whole life building ("the story isn't mine anymore")
To close, she repeats the main lines of the chorus,
“So long London/Stitches undone/two graves, one gun/you’ll find someone” 
This repetition drives home the finality of this decision - her exit, her killing her public persona, her detaching herself from those that don't see and support her, and her reassuring herself that those people will find someone else to worship, and someone else to see themselves in, and her realization and relief that they aren't her responsibility anymore.
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fandomnerd9602 · 9 hours
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Square Dance: Allemande Left
Part Four of Square Dance Series
Country!Wanda x Male Reader
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You woke up the next day in total bliss. Your country girl, Wanda, was in your arms asleep. The two of you had made love on your last night there. You didn’t want to let go.
She stirred awake and batted her eyes at you, “morning, city boy” she said her voice filled with that southern country twang that you loved so much.
“Morning my country girl” you gave her a quick kiss to her hairline.
“Can I tell ya somethin’?” She look at you a little nervous.
“Of course”
“Last night…was my first time. I-I never been with someone before and I just wanted to let ya know how special it was for me and I hope it was-“
You silenced her with a full on kiss, holding her even closer to your chest. She wrapped her slender arms around your neck.
“It was my first time too” you whispered back.
“Aww shoot” she giggled. “I wish you could be my only.”
“I want to be your only too.” You said, voicing a silent hope, a prayer that you’d be able to come back to her.
“Can we have one last go around?” She asked you nervously. “Do we have time?”
“We can make time.” You smiled at her as she giggled and crawled back on top of you. The two of you enjoyed one last morning of happiness together.
She walked you and your bags to Piet’s pick up truck. It was almost like no words were needed to be said.
You held her close, not wanting to let go of her. But this was it.
“When you can,” she whispered in your ear, “please come back to me”
“I promise” you whispered back before kissing her one last time. She held onto your neck. Yours were locked firmly on her waist.
You got in Piet’s truck and he sadly started the engine. Wanda called out to you, “come back to me” she said it like it was a command.
The truck began to pull out on the homestead’s driveway. “Come back to me,” she said one last time. This time it felt more she was begging. Begging for you to stay.
You collapsed in the passenger seat. Your eyes were filled with tears.
“Hey now” Piet said with a gentle stern tone, “I want you to know that my door’s always open. That guest room, or if sis wants, her room is always open to ya”
You could only offer a small head nod.
That was two months ago. Two long months. That's how long its been since you left Wanda and the homestead behind.
Getting back into the monotonous routine of corporate life, set in the pale white office space, lost among the sea of office cubicles; it all felt like torture.
You couldn't do this anymore. Just a splash of freedom, a splash of the fiery intensity that love had to offer made your heart yearn for more. You put in a request to work remotely. Why not? All of your work was on a computer anyway, why not be with the people you loved?
You loaded up your own car and drove. You drove the route that you heart memorized as Piet drove you there. You drove all the way back home. Your car roared to a stop outside of the old homestead. Wanda sat there on the wooden porch, strumming her guitar. Her eyes locked with yours, tears began to flow from her doe-like eyes.
She set her guitar down as you got out of your car. "Tell me you didn't come back all this way for little old me" she tried to say thru her tears.
"I could say that. But then I'd be lying" you said as your eyes became clouded with their own tears.
"You gave up that fancy city job for me?" She walked closer and closer to you.
"Switched to remote" you replied, taking another step towards her. "I should've done that a long time ago. I-I can't live without you, Wanda."
"Aw shoot" she giggled, tears in her eyes, "you're gonna make me cry"
"Well come here then" you smiled at her. Wanda ran forward and jumped into your arms. She wrapped her legs around your waist and kissed you repeatedly.
"I love you, Wanda" you whispered against her lips.
"I love you, (Y/N)" she whispered back, "my city boy"
Piet came out a split second later, "what's all the--oh hey (Y/N). Welcome home"
Welcome home indeed.
TWO YEARS LATER...
A lot can change in two years. You and Wanda tied the knot in a small intimate ceremony. Piet was your best man and gave away the bride. You were so happy when the preacher pronounced you and Wanda husband and wife.
Wanda and her band, the Good Witch Scarlett, became a popular viral hit after you posted the video of Wanda singing Bless the Broken Road. You passed it to some of your friends who passed it to some of theirs which somehow reached the desk of a major record label back in the city. You left that desk job behind and became the band's manager. It may have paid a little less but you got to spend all the time in the world with your country girl and that's all you really needed.
And so that brings you to now. The crowd was cheering at the last concert of Good Witch Scarlett's nationwide tour. The band was getting ready as you and Wanda were getting ready in the dressing room.
Wanda kissed you gently, "Thank you, city boy" she giggled, "now let's end our first tour on a high note."
You smiled and kissed her fingertips, "you got this, my country girl"
Wanda bit her lip and set down a little wrapped gift before you. "Open it when we play our last song." She topped it off with a little wink, and with that she went off to join her band on the stage.
The crowd was ecstatic throughout the whole set of songs. Wanda was enjoying herself the whole time. You were just happy cheering her from the sidelines.
"Y'all been a mighty wonderful crowd" Wanda said into the microphone, "but I got one last song I'd love to dedicate to my one and only, my city boy"
Wanda's pal Nattie began playing the piano as the song began.
(More Hearts than Mine - Ingrid Andress)
I can't wait to show you where I grew up Walk you 'round the foothills of my town Probably feel like you've been there before After hearing all the stories I've been telling you For six months now
We'll probably have to sleep in separate bedrooms Pack a shirt for church because we'll go I'm not trying to scare you off but I just thought that we should talk a few things out Before we hit the road
You looked at the little gift Wanda had left you. A little note said, "For the love of my life." You opened the little gift and immediately you gasped.
If I bring you home to mama I guess I'd better warn ya She falls in love a little faster than I do And my dad will check your tires Pour you whiskey over ice and Take you fishing but pretend that he don't like you Oh, if we break up, I'll be fine But you'll be breaking more hearts than mine
You made your way to the stage, still partially hiding behind the curtains. You locked eyes with your country girl. She smiled at you, still singing the song. You hold up the gift: two little baby blue cowboy hats.
If I bring you home to mama I guess I'd better warn ya She feels every heartache I go through And if my dad sees me crying He'll pour some whiskey over ice and Tell a lie and say he never really liked you Oh, if we break up, I'll be fine But you'll be breaking more hearts than mine You'll be breaking more hearts than mine
Really? You mouth to her. She gives a wink and nod as the song ends and the crowd cheers for her and the band.
"Thank you all so much" Wanda giggled, "y'all been a lovely crowd." She gestured to you, "But I'm nothing without my band or my hubby, my city boy."
You came out onto the stage and hugged your country gal tight. She kissed you and held onto you.
It didn't matter how many people were cheering or screaming her name. All Wanda needed was you, her city boy.
THE END.
Tags: @lifespectator @ma1egamer @multi-fandom-enjoyer @holiday-house-of-m @canvascoloredin @family-house-of-m @jacenradio7 @aloneodi @revanshand @russianredassassin @sapphic-s1mp @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7
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hutchersonsgurl · 2 days
Text
fuck it were getting back together -Mike Schmidt
paring x Fem reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒】: 18+; mdni | profanity, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v, degradation, choking, ( not edited)
summary: your ex-Mike calls you for a booty call 😏
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"Hey, bring your fine ass over here. Abby is staying the night at a friend's house tonight, and I'm drunk, and I need you here." Mike slurred over the phone.
You look over at the clock and see it's three in the morning since you and Mike split. The two of you mostly just see each other for booty calls because neither of you wants someone else to touch each other.
"Alright, fine, I'll be there in 5 minutes, you respond.
"Alright, good, don't keep Daddy waiting," he says, and then hangs up the phone.
You know you shouldn't go over there because the morning after, he acts like a dick, but deep down, you know you miss him like crazy.
You hop in the shower and spray his favorite perfume on your body, then get dressed and hop in your car.
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5 minutes later
You arrive at Mike's house, and he answers the door and lets you in. You see the empty beer bottles on the table, and you can already tell that he's really drunk. You are in the kitchen cleaning up his mess as Mike comes from behind you.
"God, that ass is so damn fine. Why did I let you go?" He asks as he grabs your sides and spins you around. Are you facing him now?
Your leaning against the counter. "I mean, you're the one who said you didn't want me anymore, Mike." I respond, looking at him in his puppy dog eyes.
"So we are clear, that's a fucking lie," Mike says. His hand moved down to your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze before he leaned forward, crushing his lips against yours.
For a moment, there was just dry pressure and an awkward clash of teeth. His hands found your upper arms, hoisting you up the counter. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, but you didn't care; nobody could make you feel the way he did.
He grabs you by the back of your neck and shoves his mouth on yours. The two of you are fully making out now. His grip on you loosened briefly, his tongue slipping out of your mouth as he mumbled gruffly against your lips.
"You have no fucking idea how much I need you to be inside of you," he says with his lips against yours.
He let the words hang in the air for a second before crashing his lips back onto yours. Nudging your head to the side, he ravaged your neck with a series of wet kisses interspersed with sharp nips of his teeth. Mouth swiftly moving down your neck, hungrily marking any exposed patch of skin he had access to. With one hand entangled in your hair and the other securing your waist, he systematically disheveled your composed appearance. The bruises and bite marks adorning your neck conveyed a clear message: it was clear you were still his no matter what.
Mike bites his lip, and he gets down on his knees, his brown eyes looking up at you while his hands find their way to your hips, long fingers gently hooking themselves under your waistband. His throat bobbed once, a subtle rise and fall before he spoke up: I need to taste you; let me taste you, he said with a purr in his voice.
Your jeans and pants fell to the floor with a muffled thud that was barely registered; the only sound was the pounding of your own heart. Mike looked like he was a kid in a candy store, licking his lips with his hands placed firmly on your knees as his head dipped between your thighs.
“Fuck.. I’ve barely even touched you, and you're already drenched. Look how bad you want me, he muttered, his lips grazing over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
You gasped, your eyes fluttering open to glance down at him. His nose was gently bumping against your cunt. He used his tongue to lick both sides of your folds, driving your insides crazy. "Mike, I need you so bad," you mutter out in a moan.
"Daddy's got you," Mike answers. Then he licked a hot stripe between your folds. clenching the countertop with both hands behind you while letting out a loud moan.
Mike dipped his head to nibble teasingly at your clitoral area. "Mmm you taste so damn good," he inhaled deeply before diving back between your thighs. “So fucking delicious,” he groaned, words reverberating against your throbbing core. You can't take anymore. You pull him back up by his shirt and start undoing his pants and pulling down his pants and boxers, letting them hit the floor. He kicks them off. "Mike, please just get inside of me now," you beg. "Only because you asked so nicely," Mike answers with a smirk.
He pulled up his cock and slowly stroked it, and then, aligning himself with your entrance, he shoved his cock inside of you.
The moment he slid inside, you both let out a simultaneous groan. The sensation of his hot, panting mouth at your ear and his sack smacking rhythmically against your cunt was so exquisitely sinful yet heavenly that you'd willingly descended into the deepest depths of hell for it. to have him inside of you only
“Mnngh! O-oh..-” He pressed in deeper and circled his hips, squelching inside you as louder moans escaped your mouth.
“You really are...” he chuckled, his voice strained, “my hot little slut. So fucking greedy for Daddy’s cock. You know that? I love it.” He reached around you, slowly curling his fingers around your windpipe possessively.
"Tell me, I'm the only one who can have you," he says in between thrusts.
"Yeah, your the only one, daddy." A guttural moan ripped from your chest when his tip pressed right up against your cervix.
"That's damn right, your mine"He pressed himself so deep inside you could feel his every throb and twitch, his eagerness to pump you full.
Hand sliding down to press between your hipbones, grazing against the slight bulge on your belly as his cock settled in there, where it belonged. He paused for a second to keep himself from coming too soon, tugging irritably at his balls to adjust.
As he panted into your sweat-slicked shoulder, you took the advantage to ease to your forearms and work yourself back on his cock.
Arching your back like a cat, you made languid figure eights with your hips. The wet schlick shlick sounds of your cunt swallowing his cock and your combined moaning ricocheted off the pantry walls, a steady cadence.
A downright animalistic groan escaped his lips.
“Oh my f-fuck...”
Nothing was sexier than Mike claiming you as his. Mike is moaning in your ear as he neared climax, which was a filthy, sinful delight. Abandoning all efforts to last longer, Mike went completely feral. He gauged his nails into your hips with bruising force as he scrambled for control. With each powerful thrust, you try your best to keep squeezing the counter so you don't fall down, weak in the knees.
He drove into you again and again. His movements became sloppy and less calculated as he neared his peak.
"Cum for me, baby girl," he grunted.
“Oh god… Mike You wailed as you reached your climax, clenching his cock tight with your slick channel as he drove into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt before releasing a torrent of thick, warm cum inside you.
He bucked his hips languidly a few more times, spending himself in a series of residual jerks inside you. Meanwhile, his hand stayed pressed to your belly, rubbing circles as his cock continued to twitch and spasm, grinding his creamy cum as deep as it could go.
Heavy breathing. Wet, sloppy kisses on the nape of your neck and your shoulder. The lingering scent of exotic spice mixed with sex heavy in the air
"Fuck, this is getting back together, he huffed.
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wow kinda went hard for this one
First post back from my break
hope ya'll like it
not edited so please don't hate me ):
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markantonys · 9 months
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the single best thing the show could do for the polycule is a very simple change: make it happen on purpose. make all four members work together from the beginning to set up a poly relationship intentionally, rather than stumbling into one due to a mix of miscommunication and Fate Said So.
in the books, rand thinks he's having a series of unconnected romantic encounters with three different women and has no idea a polycule is developing until the women come to him to propose the final product. it is documented that the reason rj wrote it this way is because it's inspired by a similar situation he was once in, so i can't exactly blame him for writing based off personal experience, but it does cause several problems in the story.
Problems:
a) rand has little to no input on his own relationship(s) and spends the whole series being extremely passive in his love life. this makes him come across as at best a victim to the whims of his partners who is not allowed to express what HE wants out of the relationship, and at worst an asshole who doesn't really care about any of them as people and doesn't care what arrangements the three of them work out so long as he gets to fuck SOMEONE. it also means that the romances don't have as much of an emotional impact on him/his character development as they should (and as they do on the women) because he's just kinda floating along going "oh whatever you guys want, makes no difference to me."
b) elayne and aviendha get a bad fandom rap as being bad partners to rand because they confuse him on purpose and play games with him. like most of elayne's (in particular) bad fandom raps, this is an unfair exaggeration, but it's rooted in the fact that rj wanted rand to wind up in a polycule by accident rather than helping arrange a polycule on purpose, which means that rand has to hook up with 3 different women in a row without realizing that a polycule is brewing, without having discussed the idea of additional partner(s) with his prior partner(s) and gotten their permission to hook up with other people, AND without coming across as a cheater. which means that rand has to believe himself sufficiently broken up with the prior woman before he can hook up with the next one, which means that elayne has to send him conflicting letters so that he can get away with hooking up with aviendha and aviendha has to freeze him out so that he can get away with hooking up with min.
("they're just greedy/indecisive/cheaters" is probably the biggest harmful stereotype against poly people, and the above approach from the books flirts with that far too much, so the show definitely needs to change that. the majority of people have a very very difficult time understanding polyamory (just look at tumblr, where even the ~wokest~ WOT fans are saying the polycule should be split up into 2 monogamous pairings bc they think the poly aspect is "weird" and they insist that elayne Actually loves aviendha the most or rand Actually loves min the most and that they can't possibly REALLY mean it when they say they love multiple people equally), which is why it's especially important that the show portray it in a way where it's abundantly clear that it's not cheating or rand being greedy/indecisive/stringing a bunch of women along.)
c) the problem for the other 3's approach to the polycule is miscommunication. the problem for min's is Fate Said So. she is rammed into the polycule by prophecy rather than by spending enough time with the other parties to come to want it on her own, and so she coasts along on "you have to let me join your relationship because it's fated to happen no matter what" rather than needing to put in the same work elayne and aviendha do of bonding with each other, making an effort to learn about aiel polyamory practices (in elayne's case), and growing to genuinely want to share their partner with each other and to genuinely enjoy seeing the other happy with him.
the result is min feeling out of place in the relationship: elayne constantly thinks about how she loves rand and aviendha equally, then sometimes hastily adds min as an afterthought; aviendha is very firm that she can't share rand with elayne until they're first-sisters, but shrugs and makes an exception for min for no reason (but then proceeds to think how she wishes she didn't have to share her partner with a near-stranger); min barely cares about the other two and frequently thinks how she wishes she could just have rand to herself and it's unfair that she has to share him. it's a very glaring contrast how elayne and aviendha come to feel genuine joy and compersion at rand's love for the other, while the most positive thought min ever has is "if i HAVE to share (which i'd rather not), then elayne isn't the worst option for a co-partner."
on this last point, monogamous people forcing themselves to try out polyamory for their poly partner's sake (which is absolutely how book!min comes across) is something that happens and gets people hurt irl, and contributes to the societal misconception that polyamory never works out long term and that a choice will inevitably have to be made (again, see tumblr deciding that the endgame will have to be elayne & aviendha happily monogamous in caemlyn and reddit that it will have to be rand & min happily monogamous traveling the world). so if the show is going to portray polyamory, imo it has a responsibility to show that it is a viable long-term relationship type that people can be genuinely happy in. thus, all 4 parties need to choose this type of relationship because they want it, not because fate said they had to, and especially min since she's the one who is the most explicitly in the "only doing this bc fate" camp in the books (whereas rand, elayne, and aviendha all come across as genuinely polyamorous people who likely would have settled on this arrangement even without prophecy foreknowledge).
Solutions:
i made a post recently-ish with a hypothetical timeline for 8 seasons of the show, so if i make any unexplained assumptions in this section about what seasons various characters will be spending time together during, that's where they came from.
i feel pretty confident that rand/aviendha will be the first romance we see in the show, since he's still getting over his much-more-serious-than-the-book-version relationship with egwene and it would make sense to give him season 2 to finish that up and to hold off on new romance for him until season 3. i'm predicting he and aviendha will also meet elayne at falme in 2x08, but i also expect the characters will set off on their TSR roadtrips by the end of 3x01 at the latest, which gives rand and elayne no more than 1-2 episodes together - enough to establish Crush Vibes, but not enough to actually have anything happen between them. so, the show will go out of order and start with rand/aviendha.
which is a perfect way of changing the polycule from accidental to intentional! having rand's first romance be with the partner who is from a poly-aware culture means that the entire set of relationships is now being built off a poly-aware base. from the get-go, aviendha can explain the concept of polyamory to rand and make it clear to him that she is comfortable with that sort of relationship, which means that they can get together and stay together rather than needing to backslide so that rand has an excuse to go off and fuck other people. he doesn't need excuses if he instead has permission! also, rand/elayne not having happened yet would mean aviendha has no reason to feel guilty and pull away from rand after sleeping with him.
so, rand and aviendha are solidly together and poly-curious by the time they reunite with elayne in s4. aviendha can see that rand and elayne like each other, so she encourages them to get together, and rand/elayne can indeed get together without rand/aviendha needing to be tanked first since rand and aviendha are both on the same pro-poly page. elayne knows a little about polyamory from meeting bain and chiad at falme (and maybe from meeting alanna or other greens at the tower), and she has feelings for rand but also likes aviendha and doesn't want to interfere with their relationship, so she is happy to agree to the arrangement. but she still has plenty to learn about aiel ways and about aviendha, and aviendha wants to become first-sisters as is proper, so even without aviendha having toh to elayne for banging rand, the two of them still have a reason to want to bond and grow closer (and for the show, this arc will result in them falling in love instead of or in addition to becoming first-sisters).
so we've fixed the narrative relying on miscommunication to get rand, elayne, and aviendha into the polycule. now to fix the reliance on Fate Said So for min. we can safely say that she's already had her 3-women viewing judging by that line in s1, so she already knows the polycule is fated. this in itself is fine - wrestling with knowing you're fated to love someone is an interesting character arc if done well and done sparingly [sideeyes rj on both counts]. what needs to be changed is how min USES this foreknowledge.
don't have her share it with elayne, aviendha, or rand until after the four of them have gotten together naturally. have her discuss the viewing with her aunts in s2 (or, hell, even with mat, could be a good way to contribute to the friendship they're supposed to have at the end of the series) instead of with elayne, and have her say she knows who 2/3 of the other people are but would never want to tell them about this viewing because it sucks to know you're fated to love someone before it's happened and she'd hate to burden anyone else with that knowledge. have her keep the viewing to herself because she wants rand and elayne (and aviendha, tho min doesn't yet know who she is) to have the freedom to fall in love by choice, even though she herself can't have that freedom. (shit, now that i write it out i actually LOVE the idea of mat being the one she's having this convo with since he too will soon be struggling with a Fated Romance.)
in the books, by telling elayne soon after meeting her that she'll have to share her boyfriend with 2 others and then in salidar going "one of them is me btw so you'd better give me permission to fuck your boyfriend when i see him soon," it feels like min is using her viewing to bully elayne (and later aviendha) into letting her join the relationship. min telling rand in eotw that he shouldn't bother with egwene because they won't end up together also contributes to this vibe, and the show has thankfully already cut out that moment, so i have high hopes that they're attempting to make min more..........empathetic, i guess, in terms of how she uses her viewings. book!min is understandably afraid of being left out in the cold since she doesn't know which if any of them rand will love back, so she uses her viewings to prime the other parties to be willing to Let Her In when the time comes, basically, but it's still kind of a shitty thing to do. however, so far, due to being older and much more mature and much more reluctant to share viewings, show!min gives me the vibes that she would rather quietly resign herself to unrequited love than have to burden other people with the knowledge that their love is Foretold (particularly once she comes to view elayne as a friend in s2).
so, if min doesn't share the viewing with elayne and aviendha in advance, then she will have to join the relationship naturally, by spending time with and getting to know all 3 parties, rather than by telling them they have to let her in because Fate Said So. i see space for all 4 of them to be in the same place together during season 4, while avirandlayne is brewing but min is still just a friend, so that would be a great time for min to bond with them all prior to getting with rand (and maybe as a result, rand develops a crush on her and confesses it to elayne and aviendha, who are happy to give him permission because they already know and like min; alternately, rand has an obvious crush on min but is totally oblivious about it, so elayne and aviendha tease him like "if there is...............anyone else you're interested in.............maybe a certain bartender............you can totally go for it" and rand is adorably baffled as to why they believe he has a crush on min, and then in season 5 he finally Realizes).
and like, wouldn't it be so cute if after the four of them are in a committed polycule, min finally says "hey, i actually had a viewing ages ago that this would happen, but i didn't want to tell you guys and make you feel pressured to love each other" and they all have a good laugh about it together? that would be SO cute!
so, overall, the seeds of a wonderful polycule are there in the books, and the show doesn't have to make a TON of tweaks to help it live up to its best potential! i'm really excited to see what they do with it because it's such a unique romance storyline and one of my favorite aspects of the series, it just needs the Updating For 2020s touch (and the Updating To Reflect The Way Real Human Adults Behave And Communicate With Each Other touch) that the show has so far excelled at applying.
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader
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You're early.
Your little knock on the door sends him into a spiral of panic, brain splitting in half, trying to figure out if he can hide his mortifying failure from you and still save dinner.
You knock again.
"Hey, sorry, I know we're early but-" You peel off with a sniff, nose wrinkling slightly, lips tucking together. You're wearing a lip stick, or a lip gloss, or something? And your hair is done. "Is something burning?"
"No!" He blurts. "No, uh. I'm just... cooking. Come in, come in."
He did actually, burn dinner. He burnt it so bad he had to order delivery, Thai on the fly, much to your excitement, and he files the knowledge of one of your favorite foods away for the future. The two of you eat together, little bits and pieces being given to Emmaline from your finger, and by the time you're finished, he's nearly worked up the nerve to start talking.
"So..." your voice trails, awkwardly, and you glance at him before looking away, finding a spot on the wall to study. Here goes nothing.
"I ah, wanted to explain, my behavior... from the other night." He starts, rubbing the nape of his neck. You watch him expectantly, Emmaline on your lap, and when he falters, you give him an encouraging nod.
"I'm listening."
"How I reacted, how I spoke to you was... unfair. It was cruel and I never want to make you upset, like that." You nod. "What I do- my job- it's... it can be dangerous. Stressful. Our last mission was difficult and I... operate in a different headspace at work. It's what keeps me alive. Makes me good at what I do." Skip the killing part, LT, Soap's voice reminds him, and he pushes on. "I was still decompressing, when you came to the door and I didn't want you to see me... like that."
"With your war paint." You quip, and he pauses, head cocked. "You had black stuff, around your eyes?"
"Yes, with my war paint. I didn't want you to..." He loses it for a second, flailing in the wind, mind scrambling as he tries to put the words together. Just say it. Tell the truth. "I didn't want you to be afraid of me. I don't think I could stand it. It's no excuse but, I guess, I thought you deserved an explanation."
"You're right." You say slowly. "It's not an excuse." You sigh, twirling a fork through the last of your noodles. "I'm not mad at you, not anymore. I just... it's hard you know. To put yourself out there, when you're a single mom. And a widow. I thought, maybe... you didn't-"
"I do." He cuts you off. "I... you and Emmaline, you're the best things that have happened in a long time. I-"
"Oh my god!" you gasp, and he instinctually startles, muscles going stiff as he surveys the flat.
"What?"
"It's snowing! Sorry, just uh..." You're already standing, hand half reaching towards him, excited smile on your face. "Emmaline's never seen snow before, can we... this is her first winter." You explain, and then move towards the balcony, fidgeting with his door lock, huffing in frustration when you can't figure it out.
"I got it." He says, not mentioning that it's custom, and slides it free, pushing the door wide so you can go outside. You're vibrating with joy, smile wide and big, and even Emmaline feels it, watching her mum, little face lit up the same as yours.
"Look, baby. Look!" You point, and then cup your palm, letting fat white flakes fall into your hand, tilting to show Emma, and she cackles with excitement, pudgy hand slapping against yours, bringing the melting snow to her mouth. You laugh with her, staring back up at the sky before glancing over to where he stands in the doorway, enraptured. The snow is caught in your hair, on your nose, in your eyelashes, the same as the baby, both of you glowing on his fucking balcony like angels on earth, sent to him from someone up there who might love him.
"Thanks, mum." he whispers to himself, to her, ducking inside to grab the blanket from the couch so he can wrap the two of you up in it to keep you at least a little warm and protected from the elements. "I wish you could have met them."
When he reappears, you're still catching flakes, this time with your tongue, hardly paying attention until he's settling the blanket on your shoulders and stepping back to watch, content to try to memorize every single second.
"Come here." You call, extending a hand, wiggling your fingers. "Try to catch one on your tongue." But he can't move.... he's too stunned, standing there before you, staring, and it gives you pause. "Simon." You whisper, head tipped back. The balcony lamp reflects in your eyes, snowflakes and yellow shine glowing back at him, the entire world lit up inside them, and his hand finds your cheek, cupping it with his bare palm, thumb stroking across the velvet that is your skin.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. So, so sorry." His voice sounds thick, fractured, and you smile, leaning into him, Emmaline's warm weight between your bodies.
"I know... I... I understand now." You look away, for a second, taking a deep breath before blinking rapidly, tears just barely there on your waterline. "I can't... losing Emma's dad, before she was even born I- I can't... I don't want to go through anything like that again, Simon. I'm scared." It's a confession, horrifying and real, terrified and heartbreaking. All he can do is tell you the truth. Tell you what he feels. What he knows.
"You don't have to be scared." He murmurs, low and soft, other hand coming to gently support Emmaline's back. "Not with me. I promise you." What is he doing, what is he doing, what is he- what is he promising? To live forever? To never hurt you? To never let either of you be hurt? To claw his way back to you, even in death?
He looks down at you, at Emma, and the world freezes. He sees everything so clearly, the image of his future, of yours- a little house with a yard, another baby. Emmaline a big sister, so proud and excited. All of you tucked away somewhere secret and safe.
He takes a deep breath, exhale crystalizing in the air, water vapor falling like a halo around you, and his confession comes unbidden, so easily given to you. "I want to kiss you."
"Okay." You answer, and then he moves, closing the gap, slowly pressing his lips to the warmth of yours, blood pooling beneath his skin, heat flowing between your bodies. You taste like heaven, mouth sweet and easy for him, parting with a tiny gasp, and it overpowers him to the point where he thinks his knees might give out. He can't help but hold your closer, arm tightening around your back, finger stroking down the length of your spine-
Emma cries. It's not really a cry, more like a little shout, and you pull away abruptly, giggly expression on your face.
"What's wrong baby girl." He hums, patting her back, tucking the blanket tighter around your arm and her body.
"I think she's upset she's going to have to share you. You're her favorite nowadays, you know." You tease, and his grin is so heavy on his face, but so light at the same time, something completely foreign and wild, the breadth of happiness something he hasn't felt in so many years. "And she's probably cold."
"Should we go inside?" He motions, somewhat relieved to get both of you out of the cold, and when you nod, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, squeezing gently.
"We should."
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luveline · 6 months
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hiiii jade!!!! could i please request something with peter with reader who’s maybe put on some weight recently and is insecure about it?? (totally not self indulgent at all) i totally get it if you’re not comfortable writing that stuff though so no pressure
hi lovely! ty for requesting. fem, 1k
cw for negative weight talk/ weight gain
Everybody gains weight during the holidays, you think, tracing your figure in the mirror. Though it's not strictly holiday season yet, it's edging toward the end of the year. Maybe my new year's resolution should be losing a few pounds. 
There's a thunk of the bedroom window being yanked open and footsteps across the floor. You tense until your hear Peter panting for breath, likely having swung to you at high speed, or fresh from a fight with an usurped criminal. 
You rush back into your t-shirt, knowing exactly what path he'll walk. He barrels into the bathroom, sees you at the mirror and smiles so wide his cheeks look fit to burst. "Hey," he says, peeling the suit off and exposing his boxers to you without shame, "hey hey hey. Can I persuade you in with me?" He nods toward the shower. 
"Not this time, Pete." 
"Too bad," he laments. 
You look away as he strips out of his underwear. The shower turns on and he takes you by the hips to move you out of his way with a murmured apology, near lost to the drum of the spray. Peter has moments where he doesn't know his own strength, but the majority of the time he treats you like you're something precious. 
"Stay in here!" he demands as he pulls the curtain shut. 
"I'm not going anywhere." You close the toilet and sit on the lid. "Tough day protecting the people?" 
"Apart from tripping into a deceptively large pothole, it was fine. Why won't you come in here with me? I wanna rub your shoulders." 
"You want me to wash your hair." 
"Exactly. So get naked and get in here. Don't make me beg." 
You really don't want to, and you're not going to, but it's not a big problem. Peter doesn't truly mind, he just loves you. "What do you mean, deceptively big? Like, knee height? Higher?" 
"Mid thigh, I'd say. The people of New York are never gonna let me live it down. One guy was recording me and said he was gonna put it on YouTube for the ad money." 
"Anything else?" 
He gives you the rundown, describing what perps he faced and an older man he helped use an ATM machine. You hum distractedly, pinching at the fat where it spreads on your thigh, sitting down as you are. 
He sticks his face through the curtain gap, hair slicked to his cheeks. "What're you doing?" 
"You told me to stay, so I'm staying." 
He's nervous for a split second, glancing back into the shower as though there's an answer there waiting for him before angling himself toward you fully, his naked chest dripping and shining in the bathroom light. "Okay, fine, we need to talk about something. But I want you to know that you forced my hand here. Okay?" 
"Okay." You nibble the inside of your lip, used to his theatrics. "What have I done?" 
"It's not something you've done. It's something you are. I can't even say it. I," —he pulls the curtain in front of his face, moves it aside again– "just need to tell you. Lately it's like you don't even realise how beautiful you are and I'm tired of it. You're radiant. Like, glowing." 
Your recent internal debate must show on your face, that doubt, because he gives you a steadying smile. "Really, really beautiful," he says more seriously.
It's easy to smile at him. "Thank you, Pete." You scoop his suit off of the floor. "I'll go scrub the tetanus out of this in the kitchen sink." 
"Wait–" 
He can't just get out with suds in his hair, giving you the perfect escape plan. You have ten minutes to yourself filling the sink with soapy water and steeping the fabric before he's out of the bedroom in pyjamas, trousers tucked into his socks and hair damp from ferocious towel scrubbing. "You're such a– such a– thing," he decides. "I'm telling you you're beautiful and you walk off so you don't have to hear it? What's wrong with you?" His voice slips into a kinder register. "You do know you're pretty, right? I'm not just saying it to say it." 
"I'm just feeling icky," you confide. 
"About what?" 
You want to tell him, you find. "You know how I've gained weight?" 
He doesn't need any more explanation. Peter knows you've gained weight, you've mentioned it to him, and it's visual, and he can likely tell whenever he decides to flex his strength. "What, and you think that makes you less pretty?" He puts a damp hand behind your neck to bring you forward. "Seriously?"
"Yeah, a little." 
He kisses you. His nose bumps your nose, his lips crushed to your as he holds you in place. Despite this, it isn't an overly rough connection. It's definitely not shy. "You're beautiful," he says in the space between your lips. 
"It doesn't suit me–" 
"It does. It really fucking suits you. Have you seen yourself? You couldn't look better." 
"Even when I was thinner?" 
"You look just as perfect then as you did now." His intensity fades and he encourages you back enough to see your face, his thumb rubbing a short line into your neck. His brows are furrowed, dark eyes darker for it. "Weight isn't a factor." 
"No, but you have to say that." 
"I don't. Not really. I'm sure there are a thousand shitty guys who'd tell you something different, but I'm not– I love you, the whole you. I like you like this." He grins. "Which should be obvious." 
You tsk at him, to his delight, his laughter boyish as he buries his face in your neck with a hug, kissing a messy circle up and into the soft line of your jaw. You trap him there without thinking, chin hooked down, squirming as he blows hot air into your skin. 
"I've been putting it on too," he says. "It's happy weight." 
"It's not happy weight for you, Pete, it's just more muscle." 
"It makes you happy, doesn't it?" he jokes, smiling and kissing and hugging you all at once. "Just like it does on you for me."
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shotmrmiller · 19 days
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im thinking of you, who's a doctor that's been taken hostage by some bandits under the pretense of needing you for a house call for their elderly family member. they had paid for your services preemptively as well.
it's my ma, see. she's got a real bad cough and says her chest hurts somethin' fierce.
you clumsily hop on their horse and let them take you to where she supposedly is, except instead of a quaint, little home they take you to some delapilated wooden shack. before you even get to ask any sort of question, there's the barrel of a gun pressed firmly against your spine.
you heal the man inside, and if he dies, so do you.
this is the only time that you fully regret going to school for medicine, instead of marrying that sheltered rich man like how your father had originally wanted for you.
after searching your coat pockets for the money they had given you earlier, they harshly nudge you toward the roughly hewn wooden door that's barely hanging onto the frame by the hinges.
only to come face to face with a broken, bloody man. and what's worse is that you've seen him before on wanted posters. he's an infamous gunslinger, one so dangerous not even the police want him captured alive, simply dealt with. he's got a hefty $1000 bounty on his masked head. his name is said like a curse among lawmen and the general population alike and he's been evading the hand of justice for years, in and out of sight like a phantom. ghost.
he sat tied to a chair, coarse rope so tight around his body you could see it biting into his bruised skin. blood ran in rivulets down his painfully obvious broken nose, his thin split lip swollen and raw. bruises bloomed on his dirt-streaked cheeks, blonde stubble stained crimson. his breath left him in ragged, wet gasps. your purpose here is clear.
their torture has done nothing to break the man in front of you, so they want you to keep him alive until he does.
his sunken, dark eyes follow your every move— as you shrug off your coat, roll up your sleeves, and reach into your medical briefcase for gloves.
your hands tremble with fear and urgency as they reach for the blood-soaked tattered remains of his shirt and pull it up to assess the damage.
"how unfortunate for you and for me that it doesn't seem like you were hit near anything vital." he remains silent and unresistant as you get to work; breath hitching and jaw clenching only when you dabbed a wet, clean rag on his open wounds. you can feel his gaze on your sweat-slick skin, unwavering.
god only knows how long you're to be kept here, captive, just like him.
(his gang comes to save him eventually, and because you were so useful simon tells price that you're a doctor, and a damn good one. "her talents could come to use in the future." price looks at you sparingly, hardened blue eyes resembling ice. he gives him the go-ahead, and now you're taken captive. again. and what's worse, simon simply hog-ties you and stows you in the back of his horse, like a hunter does the pelts of his game.)
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ivysangel · 2 months
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surprise post bc my blogs fixed woo hoo!! i initially sent this as an ask to @hanasnx as my contribution to his baby daddy!jason au, but i also wanted to share it here for u guys as a little treat :p
Baby Daddy!Jason, who you co-parent with, in a very civilized way. No joke, the picture of camaraderie between exes. He takes your daughter on the days he's supposed to (which isn't that often, given his occupation) and brings her back on time, always with a little gift for you as well. Flowers, chocolates, a little knick-knack reminiscent of when you were together. It's not because he's in love with you or anything; it's just the principle of the matter. "Happy wife, happy life," not that you were married or even dating, but he figures the mother of his child should get love sometimes.
Baby Daddy!Jason, who, the next time he sees you, it's to drop off something your daughter forgot with him, and as he's handing you the bag, he casually asks why you haven't been asking him to take her more often. You had been for a while when you were going on dates weekly, but for some reason, the relationships never went anywhere, so you just gave up. "Oh, you know, it just wasn't working out." you say off-handedly, "Kept getting ghosted." you sound only marginally disappointed, moreso annoyed. "What a shame, they're really missing out," he says, getting real close to you and taking up your entire field of vision.
Baby Daddy!Jason, who's got your entire calendar memorized and knows that his daughter's not home tonight and that you've got no plans other than watching movies in solitude. He knows you're too stubborn to call him over for company even though you've been giving him fuck me eyes in passing for the past few months, so he figures he just has to take matters into his own hands and corner you until you give in like he knows you want to.
Baby Daddy!Jason, who fucks you on damn near every surface in the house, telling you he's just christening the place like he would've already done if you lived together. Whispers apologies in your ears about scaring off all of your dates while he's splitting you open, bullying his cock into you while your eyes roll to the back of your head because you haven't been fucked this good in years, not since the last time you'd been with him. You're face is deep in some pillows when you realize the memories you had of his dick pale in comparison to the real thing, and you aren't sure you could go back to using your imagination to get off after tonight.
Baby Daddy!Jason, who keeps you up all night until your pussy's red and puffy from how many times it'd come in contact with his hips while he was fucking you. Fat tip kissing your cervix until you were clawing at his biceps, begging him to give you some reprieve, tears in your eyes while you babbled incoherently, too lost in the feeling of him to make any sense. He admits in the midst of sex that he tried to get over you; he really did, but he just couldn't; he just couldn't picture you with another man in any capacity. The thought of someone else touching you, fucking you, loving you, made his stomach turn, filling him with rage and an overwhelming need to claim you as his.
Baby Daddy!Jason, who's a level-headed, non-fragile ego'd man until it comes to his family, which, contrary to what some would say, did not only consist of his daughter but you too, and any guy who tried to get with you was a threat. he didn't know the intentions of other men, but he knew his own, which was to keep his little family happy as long as he was alive. If that meant putting a gun to the head of anyone who made a move on you and consoling you by stretching you out the way he knew you liked until you just said "fuck it" and let him put another baby in you, then so be it.
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anantaru · 9 months
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HSR + WRAP AROUND ME, PRETTY
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— ꒰ including ꒱ — blade, dan heng, luocha, gepard x fem! reader
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, rough, praise here and there, teasing owowow, oral (fem! receiving) + oral! (male! receiving), prone bone, needy boys n feral boys
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— ꒰ BLADE ꒱
blade simply cannot tear his gaze away from your core, it's futile to lie to himself any longer but you're the one for him, evermore had he sought after someone like you. you are the sweetest melody on his eyes and ears, the enchanting beauty that lit up his soul, because do not misunderstand, it was dark inside the man, inflamed by immortality.
for the present, he could wrap himself up in your lulling resonates and sleep even more soundly than a baby— it's simple, plainspokenly, and he thought that no other than fate itself was playing sickening jokes on him.
he hums appreciatively when you place your hands on his cheeks, it tickles when you circle your thumbs over his skin, "i love you." you say, and he swallows hard when you constrict around him, his large palms gripping your thighs when you moan in a broken tune as he spreads you effortlessly, splitting you open in the most delicious, most tasteful way imaginable to you.
how his cock was disappearing in your cunt— he's almost pleading for this to go on forever. and when he hides the blush on his face in your neck, a warm pinkish hue like that of a ripe peach, precisely because of your words, his mind rewires and reconnects, tongue coming out to leave wet kisses on your jawline, jerking up a little faster, coming to terms with the amplifying lust and love expanding inside of him.
your stomach twists and turns at the sensation of being full, swarming with his large erection throbbing against your walls, turning you sore, needy, sliding him up so nicely and milking him into your warm cunt, so he could become more sensitive and whine into your neck, way too embarrassed to face you now.
your lips were plastered in saliva when he grinds down hard into you, fucking into your hole strongly while lifting your hips into him with every new thrust forward— it's exceedingly sexy when he showed off his strength this way, that he can smoothly drag you on his cock accustomed to his desires.
you just smell so good, taste and feel even better, blade cannot believe you're his, and those soft hands of yours were his medication.
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— ꒰ DAN HENG ꒱
"you want me to keep going?" you ask innocently, surrendered in that fleeting, feverish moment, just from below your soused, pretty lashes as dan heng looks down on you with hungry eyes, his hands strung in your hair as you playfully rub his cockhead over your wet lips, silencing the whisperings of his winces which were caused by no other than you.
"don’t stop," he whines at the featherlight friction of your mouth kissing the underside of his cock, big, glowy tears messily hanging from the edges of his handsome face, he's so desperate to fuck himself inside your warm mouth again, it's beginning to ache and his cock felt sore, throbbing in your hand, "please... it’s so good..."
you hum in awe, he was all but coordinated right now, his shallow thrusts into your mouth were sloppy and uneven, but it's frustrating when you suddenly pull him out of you again— and dan heng knows you're doing it on purpose too, to hear him beg and cry, tell you what he so desperately needed right now.
regardless of your needs to see him all over the place, with an almost pained expression on his face, you decide to pull him inside your mouth again, this time entirely until your natural gag reflex was taking place. you do not care on how messy it had gotten, and wet; or how your make up must look, because it's simple, you're drooling all over his dick, slurping and sucking while cupping his balls with your palm, using your saliva to lubricate them.
dan heng closes his eyes and whimpers when you seal your lips tightly around his aching girth, and when you suddenly hum and lick around his shaft, he spills over, your power on him was an aphrodisiac for sure, for with your incandescent eyes and darling voice you are in command of him.
the pressure in his stomach was broken into a million pieces when he scatters his hot cum deep in your throat, his taste, although slightly bitter, still pleasant when you drink it up all happy and fulfilled, making obscene noises as you slurp it all up for him, cleaning his thudding cock with your tongue as you kept him in your mouth, noticing how he wasn't done yet— somehow, although he had gotten a little softer, you think that you might be able to pull yet another climax out of him.
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— ꒰ LUOCHA ꒱
it's never long before luocha gets grabby with you, revealed in the light of his eyes, bathed in the warmth of his voice when he tells you that in your very arms, the roaring storms inside of his heart quell down, appeased to a stand still.
his hands explore each and every corner of your inviting body when he flips you over at last, breaking down a surprised heave from your throat, your pretty, plush behind right on full display with his cock resting on top— he was leaking already, heavily awaiting to be nestled deep within you, altogether wet with his pre when he shamelessly drags his cockhead over your folds to lick his lips at your reactions.
he keeps going, of course he does, squeezing the mounds of flesh with one palm while the other inserts him slowly, but only the tip, yet you already feel a stretch on your core, it's instantly heavy in you and you're hiding your head in the pillow when you wiggle yourself into his erection for more— and if only he wouldn't pin you down so effortlessly, you'd probably manage to swallow more of his inches, just a bit, please, but he doesn't give you that revered satisfaction, he never does.
your following reaction was one of a helpless, lewd category, and your whines are something tangible for him to hold onto, to feast himself full on— almost like the only thing he needs to hear for the rest of his life.
"there's just something about you no other can match." he admits, bluntly, and his grip on you was strong, almost bruising if you didn't know any better before he continues his words, "hold still for me."
the man was glowing with excitement and bites down on his lower lip before dragging his cock into you, miserably failing to suppress a groan, it's the way his eyes were hooded yet the second he tastes you on him, walls clenching and constricting, tightening, and letting go again, his breath gets ragged and he exhales heavily through his parted lips.
succeeding, he slopes his entire weight against your body but keeps one hand under your waist to keep your ass up, ever so sweetly nuzzling into your neck, his warm breath puffing on your wet skin and tickling, "you feel so good that way."
you tip your head to the side, only as much as this certain position allowed you to, which— was quite difficult when you take into consideration that he had you conveniently trapped under him, his cock all heavy bulging inside of you, "oh, do i?" you coo, whining right after, but teasing him back, that's for sure, knowing it drives him absolutely nuts when sudden, crowded trembles leave your body the moment he kisses your cheek.
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— ꒰ GEPARD ꒱
curiously enough, it's quite seldom to see gepard this riled up, dominant and needy for your precious touch. in a span of no time, he had you straddling his face, your thighs tight around his ears. his hand was greedily kneading the plush of your ass while the other was tightly shut around his exposed cock— fucking into the little opening of his hand, desperate and almost, feral, unhinged and lusting.
you want it so much your hands are shaking in his hair, trembling when you ride his sloppy tongue fucking in and out of your hole, a broad assemblage of blazing tears and spit coating your cheeks, because you cannot do anything else than get addicted to this, becoming a fucking mess when he has you in such position.
while even though you're the one on top, he makes no secret in showing you that he's in control— especially since he hadn't seen nor tasted you in so long, and those moans of his name, they're so heavy on filth, his mind can't cling onto the sensation of your skin plastered around his face when he ruts you into his tongue while fisting himself faster.
his cock was long since red and throbbing in his hands, it's burning and he might just cry at the build up intensity in his core, yet nothing was as good as this. your slick on his entire lower half and how you tasted only made him hornier, your liquids glazed on top of his taste buds.
within seconds, gepard groans into your pussy and you can barely hear yourself anymore, not when he himself was voicing his pleasure the same, fucked out way, albeit gritty and muffled by your cunt, it's audible and the vibrations he set free with his noises alone had you cramp down on nothing, constrict and wanting to be fucked by him.
after all, his tongue was fast with fucking in and out of your hole and the resonates of your slick hitting his wet muscle unbounded quivers on your core when you arch your back, your pussy dragging over his lips.
he's never leaving you time to rest properly whenever he had been apart from you for this long, your combined moans weaving together and showing your deep truths, and if it weren't for the head board that you were holding onto right now, you might've just collapsed on top of him.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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mistiell · 8 months
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If you’re doing requests and it’s not too much trouble what about Astarion and getting patched up and taken care of by mc
Here you go babes <33 (Also, if he's a little out of character, I apoligize, I really did try my best lol) WC: 1k
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“Ow! Gods, could you at least try to be gentle?” Astarion hisses at the sting of the salve you’ve concocted, startling you into jerking the cloth you’re using away.
You huff and drop your hands into your lap, brows furrowed in very clear annoyance, “I am trying. If you’d stop squirming, it wouldn’t hurt so much.”
“Well, if it didn’t hurt so much, I wouldn’t be squirming, would I?” He quips. You roll your eyes.
Taking his wrist ever so gently, you turn it so you can see the gash on his forearm, fingers deft and kind even despite his whining. He’s being difficult; unreasonable. You’d be justified in being cruel with him.
You’re careful not to press so hard as you swipe the cloth over the jagged edge of his wound, blood seeping into the fabric and staining the off-white linen a dark crimson. Mouth quirked down, your face is drawn tight with a frustration he’s never seen on you before.
He hates it.
The fabric catches with a jolt of pain and he flinches more than he would normally, startling you away again.
You tut at him, stern, “Astarion.”
Sighing, he returns his arm to you wordlessly and glances away with a small, “Sorry.”
“You should have been more careful.” You chastise as you press the cloth against his wound; firm, but not harsh. Never harsh.
He scoffs, rolls his eyes, “So you're saying this is my fault.”
He wasn’t being serious, but it seems you take it as such. Your nose scrunches, and for a split second, you look properly upset with him. He’s expecting you to snap at him, maybe shout and finally leave him to tend to his wounds alone as he usually would.
You don’t. Instead, you take a breath and sigh, looking rather disappointed.
“You know that’s not what I meant. Contrary to what you may believe, I do actually care about you and your wellbeing.” Your voice is void of any sort of humour as you look back at his arm. Swapping the soiled cloth for a smaller, cleaner one, you fold it in half and press it to his arm, not sparing him a glance as you instruct him, “Hold this.”
He does as you’ve asked, and a stifling silence engulfs his tent. As you rifle through some healing supplies, he tries to come up with a way to get you talking again.
“Why-,” His voice doesn’t come out right and he clears his throat to fix it. It comes out wrong anyway, “Why are you helping me? This wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve dressed a wound on my own, you know.”
“That doesn’t mean you should have to.” You reply as you begin securing the cloth to his arm with bandages, “No one deserves to suffer alone.”
The sentiment makes his stomach twist. “No one?” He huffs a wry puff of laughter, “Not even someone like Cazador?”
Your face contorts in abhorrence, “I meant good people don’t deserve to suffer alone. That bastard deserves every bit of suffering he has coming to him.”
He barely even registers the second part of what you’ve said, too busy reeling from the first.
Good people don’t deserve to suffer alone.
Good people.
“You... think I’m good?” He asks far too softly.
Finally looking back up at him, you look utterly confused as you nod, “Of course I do.”
He opens his mouth only to find he’s seemingly lost his voice. His gaze flits over just about every inch of your face, searching for any sign that you’re lying; a glance away, a twitch of your mouth. Anything.
He doesn’t find one. His heart sinks and sings simultaneously and suddenly, he can barely breathe.
“Why?” He murmurs. Part of him thinks he’s not equipped to cope with your answer.
There’s a moment where you just... look at him. He’d say staring, but he doesn’t think that’s quite what this is. What you’re doing would be better described as seeing him; all of him. His heart, his soul. Everything.
“Good people can do bad things and still be good, Astarion. And being good doesn’t always mean being a saint.” Your voice is kind; tender. Maybe a little joking towards the end. He guesses you’ve seen the apprehension on his face when your hands slide down his arm to cradle his own. Dipping to catch his gaze, your own is suddenly serious; unwavering, “What happened to you, the things you did. None of that was your fault. You told me what Cazador did to you when you disobeyed him. I’d be just as terrible to deem you a monster for going along with it knowing what would have happened to you if you didn’t.”
Your words strike him like a hard blow to the chest. Perhaps he’s not all that concerned with being a good person, but he’s never truly wanted to be evil, either.
Eyes stinging, he lets out a shaky breath through his nose as he cups the nape of your neck to guide your forehead to his lips. He lingers there for a moment before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight, mumbling against your hairline, “Thank you.”
Snaking your arms around his waist, you squeeze him just as fiercely, “Of course, my love.”
The laugh that escapes him comes out too watery for his liking, but he finds he doesn’t mind quite as much when its only you around to hear, “‘My love’? Isn’t that my line?”
You snort, and he feels you smile against his collar, “Perhaps.” “You do know that reusing material that isn’t yours is in poor taste, don’t you, darling?”
“Hush.” You pull back smiling, shaking your head as you ask in faux exasperation, “Now, will you please let me finish bandaging this?”
He follows your gaze to his arm and huffs dramatically, “I suppose.” “Oh, you suppose, do you?” You sass as you take hold of his wrist again, careful not to wrap the bandages too tight, “Do you also suppose you’ll sit still for me this time?”
“I do.” He grins.
And he does.
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yzashaven · 7 months
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2023 KINKTOBER︰10﹒01 / 10﹒02
꒰ —♡ B R E E D I N G ﹒ PART 1 ꒱
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EVENT MASTERLIST !
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FEATURING ! ayato, xiao, diluc, kuronushi x fem!reader
WARNINGS ! breeding obviously, shibari, some anal, cum overflow :0, overstimulation, praising, think that's all + VERY SHORT HELP
NOTE ! like only one of these were proofread LMAO anyway~ splitting this into 2 because i couldn't make the time to finish all 8 of the characters 😭 + THANK YOU FOR 700?!?!?! + sorry to those i couldn't tag :( and for posting this late omg
event taglist— @yukiitaooo @scara6 @peakalatus @kanaedd @returningluv @im-the-ruler-here @scarafixation @kateybuggi @hanni7 @asimpforpeople @ju1yyyzzz @saturnsapothecary @alexiassleeping @cheeze-noo @supercoolusernameomg @shining_dhei @uchihaeirin @black-rxse @3herri-berri @anon-eu @gojoswife201 @abeitriz @chlebek1 @mechanical-lily @breadybuu @dawning-bliss @poisonedmoonl1ght @scaraismybbgreal @nothingfuninthislife @hellithides @eunchaeluvr @doumastip @pandash @cuntz0ne @zomzomb1e @bitchylillyrose @apocalypticchimera @wolfiafan10 @zxdksimpo
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—KAMISATO AYATO
he's a very family oriented man, you're well aware of that, so of course it's no surprise that breeding is one of the commissioner's top kinks. even just the mere thought of filling up your cute little cunt with his seed is enough to drive him insane.
"you're gonna give me an heir, yeah? right, my love?" ayato seductively whispered into your ear as you tiredly nod your head in approval. he has been pounding into you nonstop for the past 2 hours or so, filling you up with his cum over and over again, making sure that it'll reach your womb. "you feel so good~ this is your reward for being such a good girl for me, so take it. take it all~" his thrusts begin to quicken, urging yet another orgasm for him and yourself before grabbing your ankles to bring your legs over onto his shoulders; allowing him to push his dick even deeper than it was already reaching previously.
"fuck—i'm sorry for pushing your limits, sweetheart, but i won't waste my chance in finally getting to breed you real nice~"
—XIAO
him being a yaksha and practically spending his whole life fighting; xiao never really got to know or experience much when it comes to intimacy. but god, the moment you stepped into his life, it became the thing he couldn't live without.
"o-one more, please..." he groans out, thrusting deep into you at a slow pace, his tip kissing at your cervix ever so slightly. your whimpers and pleas falling onto deaf ears as his gaze was fixated on the way your thighs trembled under his touch as his hands kept your legs spread wide just for him, drunk on the sight of his cock disappearing within your warmth with each buck of his hips. an obvious squelching sound could be heard along with the mix of your fluids overflowing from the sides, "if i pull out, it'll all go to waste, won't it?" xiao mutters out, pulling back until only the head of his cum coated cock remained, just to slam back inside and have you scream his name for the nth time that evening.
"this won't be enough, baby... need to fill you up some more~"
—DILUC RAGNVINDR
trust me when i say that breeding is one of his top kinks, probably around the top 3, i'm sure of it :3 he just adores how pretty you look taking every single drop of his seed; the way you look so perfectly fucked out is enough to bring another feeling of euphoria to him.
"m-my love, so pretty~" diluc's eyes were focused on your trembling figure beneath him, cunt already completely full of his cum yet he's still pumping more and more inside for 'good measure' as per his words. "i know you're tired, i'm sorry—you feel too good for me to... pull out-ah~" the sensitive head of his cock kissed all the deepest parts of you with ease; giving you so much more pleasure, along with the way he was constantly pushing his cum back inside further.
"...so perfect for me, my good girl~"
—KURONUSHI
shibari. his specialty, his favorite. he decided to try a new position instead of the usual mating press you two did; having you situated on the bed with your ass up and face buried in the pillows while your wrists were bound by a red ribbon behind your back.
"that's it, keep moaning for me like that~" kuronushi coos, hips slamming against your body as his cock thrusted in and out of your ass at a steady rhythm, fingers rubbing roughly at your swollen clit, continuing to drive you over the edge. "fuck—your voice truly is the best instrument~ and your moans... the most majestic melody i've ever heard~" he says in between uneven breaths before finally cumming inside you, abruptly pulling out and pushing into your already filled to the brim cunt, a dark chuckle escaping his lips upon hearing you moan at the sudden entrance.
"just made sure to fill up both of your holes, love~"
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rogueddie · 3 months
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Stitched Together T | 698 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is sitting in comfortable silence together doing their own thing
"Do you still have my vest?"
"Hello to you too?" Steve says, raising his eyebrows when Eddie takes that as his cue to push past Steve, into his house.
He quickly kicks the door behind him, curling an arm around Steve's waist to reel him into a quick kiss. "Hello! My old vest- you got it?"
"I do- I haven't been able to get the blood out yet."
"Oh, I don't want it," Eddie waves him off, already halfway up the stairs. "Come on, I need to see it!"
"What- Eddie!"
Steve hurries up the stairs after Eddie, who takes them two steps at a time. He hovers at Steve's bedroom door though, rocking back and forth on his heels, waiting.
It's then that Steve noticed the plastic bag that he's holding.
"You gonna explain?"
"In a minute! I need to see my old vest first."
"It's in my closet," Steve explains, leading him into his room and pointing.
Eddie immediately jumps over to the closet, glancing back at Steve before he opens it to make sure it's ok for him to dig through it.
It doesn't take him long to find the vest, face splitting into a grin as he pulls it out.
"Perfect."
"So... what's going on?"
"I'm gonna make a new one. Wanted to remind myself how this bad boy is layed out first."
"Oh?"
"I'll only need it for, like, a few hours. I can get it back to you by the end of the day."
"What? Wh- you brought your stuff here."
"Yeah, I'm gonna stitch it together in the van. I was thinking about going out to the quarry."
"You could- I mean, if you want to, you could just... do it here? If you want to. I'm just gonna be baking today anyway."
"Hell yeah. Any excuse to spend more time with you is a great idea in my book."
Eddie follows him downstairs, setting up on the sofa in the living room, while Steve continues past him into the kitchen.
Steve pokes his head back in after a minute.
"You didn't want to talk, did you?"
"I know how you get when you bake," Eddie reminds him. "I'm ok here. If I need anything, I know where everything is."
"You could ask-"
"No, I couldn't. It's ok, babe. Really. It's nice to just... know you're here."
"Oh. Really?"
"Really."
Steve goes back into the kitchen, but it's not long before he's washed the side, the bowls and utensils he used. All he needs to do is wait for his food to bake.
He wanders back into the living room, sitting on one of the arm chairs.
Eddie barely glances up, focused on his task.
He doesn't seem bothered that Steve is staring, so he just... watches.
It's surprisingly nice. Comforting.
He can see how much care Eddie is putting into each patch, taking his time when pinning them in place and being careful with each stitch.
By the time the kitchen timer goes off, Eddie has only managed to stitch two patches on and started on the backpatch.
He follows Steve into the kitchen once he's done putting his things away, just in time for him to start plating.
"Looks delicious."
"Mhmm," Steve grins. He pulls Eddie closer with a hand on his hip as soon as he's within reach. "You?"
"Got two done in the time it usually takes me to stitch on one, so, I consider it a win."
"Good."
He tries to lean in, pepper Eddie's neck with kisses until he caves the way he always does, easily following Steve up to-
"We should do this more often," Eddie continues. "Hanging out like this. It's... nice. It really is."
"Yeah," Steve agrees, reluctantly pulling back. He can't bite back his sappy smile though. "You're gorgeous when you get into your passions."
"Careful, Harrington. Keep talking like that and people might start thinking you're in love with me."
"Mmm, I don't know, they might be into something."
His attempt to kiss Eddie is ruined by how much they're both laughing.
Steve is pretty sure it's one of the best days that he's ever been fortunate enough to live.
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angelltheninth · 3 months
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All That Heals is a Little Romance
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Daughter of Demeter!Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, injury, healing powers, kisses, flirting, smug Luke Castellan
Word count: 0.6k
A/N: Final commission of this batch! Might open them again soon.
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As the daughter of Demeter it was your job that those who got seriously hurt in the Camp got the best help they needed. It was a tough job but it was your calling, you liked doing it, brining a smile to someone's face, making them feel better, or chastising them for making really stupid mistakes that got them hurt. "What were you thinking Luke? Running up a wall?! And for what?"
You carefully took his shoe off, cringing when you saw how swollen his ankle was from the sprain. That wasn't his only injury either, there were small thorn-like cuts all over his arms and face too.
"I wanted to see if I could so it without the wings." This is exactly the kind of stupid stuff that you, and he, have advised others against doing.
"And why exactly did you do something so dumb?" You suspected you already knew what he'd say to that. But who knows maybe he'll surprise you.
"I know they're all watching." The 'they' never referred to other members of Camp Half-Blood.
You sighed and started massaging his ankle, trying to feel for any cracks. Luke grunted in pain every time you pressed down but nothing seemed broken or out of place. "Nothing's broken." You would need to bandage it just in case he doesn't heed your warning, "You need to take it easy for a few days. No more stupid dares to impress the Gods. I know you want to prove yourself, we all do, in one way or another, but it shouldn't come at the cost of... you Luke."
Luke rubbed the back of his neck, having heard all this before. From you and his mentors and peers. You've all been given this talk at some point. It never made the burdens of your parentage any easier for any of you. Pretty words could only go so far.
"I'll try." That's what he always said.
"I mean it Luke. No more running around. Or else I'll have to tie you to the bed until you feel better."
Luke chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows, "That's kinda kinky. It's always you medics."
"Ugh. You pervert." You tightened the bandage a bit too tight for one split second before you eased up on him. "Okay. Don't put pressure on this if you don't have to. I'll give you some healing cream I made. It doesn't smell the best but put it on your ankle every nigh before bed and give it a few minutes to get absorbed."
Luke made a disgusted noise when you brought out the small container with the cream, "Yes nurse." His nose relaxed the moment you booped it.
"Okay. I'll know if you lie to me Luke. You know I will. Now, for your other injuries. They're not as bad so... lean back a little." The demi-god looked skeptical of your plans but listened anyways, knowing it was pointless to argue with you when you worked.
As soon as he sat back on the bed you sat in his lap and kissed one of his small cuts, healing it instantly. "Oh! Now this is the kind of medicine I like!"
"I knew you would." You rolled your eyes to humor him and gently cupped his face. "There's a lot of these so we might be here for a while."
"Yeah but it's all about making the patient feel better right? That's what you said." Luke placed his hands on your hips and smiled smugly at your now slightly flustered face.
"You're lucky I'm your girlfriend or else I would have kicked you out for that bad joke." You leaned in again, your kiss healing his next cut. You lost track of how many there were, or how long you've been doing your job, but this was one more part of it that you could wholeheartedly say you loved.
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thelurchinghound · 5 months
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ftm reader getting fucked by two monsters shoving their knots deep in his little cunt whiile hes tied up and just takes it
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[Request info] - [Navigation]
Gender: FTM reader
Kinks/Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con(?), knotting, DP (double penetration), Dacryphilia, Teratophilia, Words like cunt, pussy, clit, etc used for reader. Hinted at werewolf monsters but I left it vague.
A/n: BRUH, I love this request, again I left the monsters up to the reader but I was thinking of my werewolf pack ocs. It took a little longer than I thought it would but it's fine. Kinda rushed at the end!
| OC(s) used: Monroe & Quinn | Words: 453 | Proofread by @bunnyscone | NSFW |
By hitting 'keep reading' you are accepting that you're fine with reading my content (Don't like? Don't read and scroll.)
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"There you go, baby boy."
Monroe forced his cock farther into your pussy, stretching it out even more. A groan slipped from his maw, his tongue darting out to lick at your perky nipples. A small cry leaving your lips from the intrusion in your pussy.
"Can you hurry it up?" Quinn growled out, his claws digging into your plush thigh skin. Small red lines form in the trail of them. His cock throbs with need against your thigh, a knot at the base of his cock already swelling up, and he hasn't even started fucking you yet.
"No, I'll take however long I want to savior our little guest here." Monroe quips back, glowering down at Quinn. The two beasts start bickering back and forth, all while you are unhurriedly thrust into by Monroe. They sounded like two brothers arguing over a toy. Quinn was lying under you, your back to his chest, Monroe above you, tugging at one of Quinn's pointy ears.
Each thrust was slow and gentle, a surprise for how big and burly the monster was. Monroe's giant clawed hands hold onto the ropes that had you tied up, unable to move. You could do nothing against Monroe's ministrations or when Quinn slid his hand down to your pussy. His thumb started to rub your sensitive bud while the bigger man still thrust into you. Quinn's other hand holds open your trembling thighs from his place under you, chuckling slightly when your back arches off him.
"You said that last time with the last human!" 
That exclamation only got an eye-roll from Monroe, his sharp claws drilling further into the plush skin of your thighs. An annoyed grunt coming from on top of you. "God, you are insufferable. Like a yapping chihuahua that won't shut up." 
After a few minutes of the two going back and forth arguing about fucking you, Monroe ultimately relents. "Fine, fine! Whatever!" He says in a rolling growl, moving to spread open your thighs for Quinn. The smaller beast positioned his cock right at your stretched entrance, though, unlike Monroe, he doesn't push in slowly. Like an excited pup, he thrusts himself in. You were already stretched from Monroe's cock, but now with both cocks inside your dripping cunt it felt like you could've been split open. Their knots pressed together as they started to thrust. At first, it was graceless, but gradually, they got a rhythm down. 
Their thrust started getting harder, knots slipping in with every push in and out. The cave around them filled with grunts and moans of pleasure as the two beasts ravaged your tight cunt. Until they finally spilled inside you, their fat knots locking their cum inside.
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i6eyes · 1 year
Text
%% jean kirstein bf hcs !!
pt 2
contains: sfw and nsfw, implied fem!reader (no y/n), established relationship, soft jean teehee, jean’s horse cawk, nothing too graphic tbh
— who knew a fucking stallion will be the one who's going to bring me back from the dead .
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sfw
omg omg he's soo tall right
definitely puts his arms around your shoulder, and kisses u on your temple or forehead too
the sweetest !! i feel like he would be so so attentive to u
oooh u did a double take at the dress u guys walked passed by earlier in the mall? woah it's suddenly in ur bed the next day !! :OO
he's a nice cook ! can cook but the best, his expertise are mostly breakfast foods but he can cook you lunch and dinner as long as he has a recipe
oh he'd be absolutely smitten !!!! i luv big scary men being total sweethearts to their s/o
if ur trying some shoes, he'd be the one to do all of the work ! he'd kneel down, take off your shoes, puts on what you chose on you, will be the who's going to take it off too, then will tie or buckle your shoes up for you
or or or, he'd be out alone and he passes by this little store filled with trinkets and stuff. safe to say, he walked out of the store with a silly little keychain he knew you'd like
^^ one of his love language is acts of service
he loves spending time with you. specially the moments where you two just chill and share some occasional kisses here and there
his favorite thing to do is have you lay on top of him while he's laying down and make you talk about your day !! he'd play with your hair and caress your nape and back while you do so :((
he's obviously attractive, but he doesn't know how much
there's so many simple things that he makes attractive
his attentiveness. you'd be in the grocery then he'd suddenly disappear for a while, only for him to come back with arms full of chips and snacks. "these are your favorites, right?" he said while dumping them in the cart, not even waiting for your answer.
oddly specific but the way he leans on every door way. you know the thing where people place their hands on top of a doorway? that, but he subconsciously does it everywhere. omg imagine he fetches you from your house for a date and the moment you open your door, boom! there's jean, towering you with a smile on his face.
he knows how to slow dance, like the ones in the movies where the main characters would suddenly dance in their living room, to which, he did with you!
slow dancing in the living room with jean :(
if you're still in school and he sees you struggling with a subject or school work, he'd help you as soon as he could, specially if it's something he already learned before. but! if that's not the case, he'd take his time to learn what you're having problems with and try to come up with an explanation to make you understand better
he's so lame (affectionate)
nsfw
oh boy
he's not the stallion for nothing
easily one of the biggest cock in the aot verse
usually, i'd be realistic when it comes to sizes, but jean is at 7-8 inches.
hhhhhhgggh, king of dick prints. he's naturally big even when soft, about 5 to 5.5 maybe. < he's a grower
he's such a big man, his proportions are perfect, of course he needs a big fucking cock to go along with it
he keeps his happy trail no matter what happens. he knows it's attractive and knows that you love seeing it on him
^^ up to you whether you want him to shave or trim, he's fine with anything as long as he keeps his happy trail
wide athletic shoulders that he puts your legs at while he's eating you out our splitting you open with his cock
this man's proportions are actually making me insane i don't know how to put my thoughts into words anymore
his hands are big, but not huge or ginormous. it's pretty and rough looking at the same time. his fingers are longer than most men's but are thick enough like the ones most are familiar with when thinking about a man's hand.
his nape is sensitive, simple touches like brushing his hair back will make him shiver. hickeys also show more easily on his neck, just suck on it lightly and there's already a blooming red mark left in its wake.
oh my god, touch his torso or the bottom of his stomach (ehem, close or at his happy trail) and he's gone. it's starting to become an actual problem because there would be completely innocent moments where you touch those places because you need to get pass by him and he'd just suddenly pop a boner on the spot.
*taps mic* soft dom
he absolutely loves praising you, it's an unconscious thing he does
you'd be on your knees, sucking in his cock on your mouth as much as you could, and he'd groan while keeping your hair out of your face using a hand while the other caresses your cheek, wiping away the tears that lay there.
^^ "there we go, knew you could do it.", "fuckin' natural at it.", "think you could take me a little deeper? uh huh? yeah that's my good girl."
im in shambles
he's SOOOOO good with his fingers my GOD.
he knows what it takes to make you cum with his fingers, he has an actual technique it's crazyyy. doesn't prioritize in making it fast or hard or whatever, whether you like it like that or slow, he will follow his own lead on what he thinks will make you feel spineless.
knows the fingers inside you, palm on your clit thing. has made you squirt using it on multiple occasions
while he adores missionary because he loves seeing your face and folding you in half with your legs beside your ears, doing it doggy will always make him carnal
he has a thing for your backkk. he'd grab the one side of your shoulder while he's hitting it from the back, sometimes he'd bruise your hips with his grip instead
will slap your ass. not really in a sub/dom dynamic. he just likes the way he sees his handprint on your ass while you're writhing beneath him
stroke game is unmatched !!!!!!!!!
he doesn't rely on his size alone, this bitch is actually prepared and knows his shit y'all
even if he doesn't or can't push all of him in, he'd work with what he's able to put inside you and god does he do it well
during missionary, expect him to put a pillow under your hips despite his size and knowledge. he want to make you feel the best at any given time
while he doesn't mind if you're a loud moaner or what, he LOVES hearing you whine.
if you're a whiner, boy is it a good time to be ALIVEEEEEE
he founds it so cute and hot <3
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