#just my wattpad book don't judge

[asteriastarr]

Hey could you please do a fem!human reader x deuce an them meeting? Like She was chasing around her baby cousin in a store, deuce for some reason was in the human world or something else is fine too

A/n: TY SM FOR THE REQUEST ANON, sorry for the lack of oneshots as of late, I've just been busy with exams and more focused on my wattpad book. I don't know if this is exactly what you had in mind or how good this is but oh well. Hope you enjoy!

Pov: Deuce meeting Human!reader in the shops when she's babysitting her cousin

“Get back here!” A voice rang out as a group of hooded people entered the store.

“Should we really all be going in here together? I feel like this may be suspicious.” Draculaura whispered.

“No, we’ll be fine,” Clawdeen reassured “Just… maybe we should split up to get the stuff we need.”

The group nodded, everyone splitting up, Deuce and Heath as one group and Clawdeen, Draculaura and Frankie as another.

“So, what exactly are we getting?” Heath asked Deuce, looking down the aisles.

“Human snacks or something.” Deuce shrugged; he’d already forgotten what had been hastily scribbled down on the paper Clawdeen had taken with them.

The two monsters walked through an aisle; Deuce however paused when he heard the same voice yell once again.

“Cockroach I swear if you don’t get back here right this minute, I’ll-”

The voice faded out as a child's giggle replaced it.

“Gotcha!” The voice exclaimed “Ow you little-”

A child rushed past Heath and Deuce, running through the aisle until a girl with H/c hair and s/c skin, appeared at the other side, blocking the child from running out of the aisle.

“Haha! Caught you!” The girl grinned, lifting the child up.

The child grumbled as the girl brought them back to their trolley, sitting them inside with their shopping, gently adjusting a scarf around the child’s neck and the jacket on the childs back.

Deuce hadn’t even realised he had been staring at the human until Heath nudged him.

“Dude, you’re staring,” Heath whispered.

“I am?” Deuce asked. “Yeah, and you still are.” Heath responded, “You know you could just be… less creepy and talk to her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… just try not to turn her to stone… or let her know you’re a, y’know, gorgon.” Heath whispered.

Deuce rolled his eyes before slowly making his way towards the girl.

“Okay Onyx, if I buy one of these for five dollars, and one of these for six dollars, how much will that cost me?” The girl asked the child, holding up two packets.

“Ten dollars!” The child exclaimed.

“Close, now add one.” She corrected.

“Eleven!”

“Yes! Good job.” She smiled, putting the packets into the trolley “And- if I hand the cashier a twenty dollar note how much change can I expect?” The child counted on their fingers.

“Nine!”

“Good job kid!” She grinned.

Just as the girl was about to move the trolley, Deuce tapped her on the shoulder.

“Uh- excuse me… miss?” He said.

She turned around.

“Oh! Hello! Did I drop something?” She asked, taking a quick glance at the trolley.

“Uh no-”

“Did you drop something?” She asked.

“No-”

“Did Onyx steal something of yours? Because I swear, I told them to stop… it’s just kind of in their nature.”

“No- uh- Onyx didn’t steal anything.” “Oh- is there some weird monster thing I should know about?” She asked.

“No- wait what?” “You’re a monster, aren’t you? I saw you walk in with the others.” She said simply, moving her trolley, Deuce quickly following behind.

“Yes, but how-”

“My cousin here is one too, half one but still a monster.” The girl shrugged.

“Oh.”

“So let me guess, the purple haired one is a half-wolf, the pink one is a vampire, the blueish one is a… mix of something, the guy you were with is uh- something related to fire, and you… judging by the hat, the small amount of hair I can see and the glasses… are a gorgon.” The girl stated, calmly continuing with her shopping.

“That is surprisingly accurate.” Deuce said in surprise.

“I know.”

“So, what about you?” Deuce asked.

“What about me?” She asked.

“What kind of monster are you? Siren? Nymph? Fairy?”

The girl gave a dry laugh.

“Uh I’m flattered but no, I am not a monster, I’m from the half of the family without monster blood.”

“Huh, really? Because I was going to guess goddess next.”

“Is this your way of flirting?” She asked.

“Depends. Is it working?”

“No. But that could change.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Well, you flatter me enough, it might just start to work.” The girl smirked.

“Hm, well if you’re not a goddess, perhaps a demi-goddess.”

“Ha!” The girl laughed “You’re funny. Although as likely as it is, and as much I wish it were true, no, just an ordinary human.”

Deuce’s brows furrowed for a moment.

“Well then, Aphrodite must’ve been kind to you.”

“Why thank you.”

“So, what do you mean by ‘It’s likely you’re a demi-god’?” Deuce asked.

“Uh, never met my dad, mother died when I was little, grew up with Onyx’s mother, plenty of room there for godliness.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” The gorgon said.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m over it.” The girl shrugged “The only downside is now I’m stuck babysitting this little cockroach.”

Deuce smiled, watching the girl ruffle her cousin’s hair causing smoke to blow from their nose.

“So, you gonna tell me your name?” He asked.

“Not unless you give me yours.”

“I’m Deuce.”

“Y/n.” The girl smiled holding her hand out.

Deuce shook her hand.

When they pulled their hands away, Y/n opened her mouth to say something but was disrupted when Onyx started to whine.

“Y/nnn I’m hungry.” The child whined.

Y/n rolled her eyes, pulling a chocolate bar out of her pocket.

“Y/nnn I’m bored.” The child whined; mouth full of chocolate.

“Here’s my phone now shut up cockroach.” Y/n hissed, shoving her phone into her cousin’s hands.

Deuce had to stifle a laugh at the interaction.

“Don’t you start.” She groaned before holding her palm out “Give me your phone.” Deuce complied, giving the girl his phone, she quickly typed something in it, before handing it back.

“I should be going, but uh- text me sometime.” She smiled before walking off.

He looked down at his phone with a soft smile at the contact name.

‘The best siren/nymph/fairy/goddess’

“Nice going dude.” Heath said, coming up behind him and looking at the gorgons phone.

#deuce gorgon #deuce gorgon g3 #deuce gorgon x reader #g3 monster high #live action deuce gorgon #live action deuce gorgon x reader #live action monster high #monster high g3 #gorgon #requested

[magmagpie]

Day 7: AU or Headcannon

Trigger Warning for talk of kidnapping and similar topics(don't judge me, I'm an edgy bitch)

((All/most of this information is in my Octonauts book on Wattpad))

I headcannon that pirates used to frequent Antarctica to steal penguin eggs. They would hatch them on their ship, then sell them off. To who, I dunno, but whatever ones didn't hatch, they would cook and eat them. Kwazii was born into one of the crews/families that did this, but he never liked it. He always tried to reason with the adults, but we all know how that usually goes.

Peso was stolen as an egg by Kwazii's crew, when Kwazii was about a year old. He hatched on their ship(he was also a premature chick but that's not important) and Kwazii helped all of the chicks escape into the water. He didn't know that penguin chicks can't swim, but it's okay, he was just a kitten. Peso and the rest of the chicks did know, but trying to make it back home was a better option than staying and going through with whatever the pirates wanted. Unfortunately, only Peso and two other chicks survived the swim home, and he's been traumatized by the experience ever since.

When he joined the Octonauts, and he "met" Kwazii, he almost turned around and swam all the way back home. But a big reason he was even joining this team was to overcome his fears and put some of his anxiety aside for once and just have a good time and help people. So he stayed, and over time, the fear went away. It took a while, but within a year of being his teammate, he started thinking of him as his best friend. That is how they view each other to this day. They don't know, however, that they've met once before, until Calico Jack has been introduced and the three of them have a small chat about the whole thing.

When he was more properly introduced to Calico Jack, he already knew he wasn't like the pirates that used to do that stuff, but he still shivered a little when they made eye contact. Overall, his fear of pirates had faded a lot by that point, but, as anyone who's had to 'get over' a traumatizing event will tell you, it's not always that simple. Kwazii is very obviously a soft heart, and he just wants to help as many people as he can, and he would die for his friends. Calico Jack is like that too, but it's not very upfront compared to his rugged pirate-ness. At least, not upfront enough for Peso to just bat an eye at his being a pirate like he's come to do for Kwazii. Not yet, anyway.

Captain Barnacles is the only one who knows about all of this. As the Captain, he knows the general history of everyone in his crew, career-wise. Peso confided in him about his fear of pirates and Kwazii pretty early on, like almost immediately, both because he's just that clearly a trustworthy person, and because keeping it a secret from him would have put unnecessary strain on the whole team and risked the downfall of their teamwork if he didn't. Barnacles being Barnacles, he tried to help them become friends, but stayed out of their way enough to let them work through it on their own.

#i love their relationship #including the hard parts at the beginning #my art #digital art #octonauts #peso penguin #peso #peso octonauts #kwazii #kwazii cat #kwazii octonauts #headcannon #angst #octonauts week 2023 #this was very rushed..if you couldn't tell

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

You're killin' me!

Quick summary: Phantom and Maverick have had their fair share of head-butting – competition, ego and feelings don't mix well, apparently. Finally, however, they seem to reach a peace after a day on the beach.

Word count: 3K (getting into writing these shorter fits woo!)

Warnings: Kind of angsty but also you make out so like is it really that bad; allusions to smut; lots of swear words; yeah, not much for this, it's pretty PG.

A/N: YAYYY, I'm back, sort of but also not really but also ENJOY THIS FIC. Yes, technically it is an extract from an unfinished chapter of the mav x reader Wattpad story I'm halfway through writing (yes, I have a wattpad, it's called nonoitsnina), and maybe (BIIIIG emphasis on MAYBE) I will do a second part where y'all actually fuck and stuff but for now just take this. If anyone's still slinking around the Top Gun stuff, that is. Also, Bee is your RIO here. Just to preface. And Phantom (YOUR CALL-SIGN) shortens to Tommy or Tom from time to time but like if you read the Wattpad book (YES I KNOW I SOUND LIKE A SCARY 14 YEAR OLD) it makes more sense. OKAY ENJOY COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED HAVE A LOVELY JUBBLY DAY

***

Stupid smiles plastered bright across their faces, Bee and Goose are already dashing down the road, speed-walking like a couple of suburban mothers, one swathed in a beach towel and picnic blanket, the other lopsided with a half-empty cooler grasped in one hand. 

I watch them go, brow furrowed, over my shoulder, slightly disconcerted. 

“I guess they—” Mav pauses, then huffs, equally as confused, “—really wanted those ice-creams.”

Sure. That’s why they keep glancing back at us and giggling like idiots: ice-creams. 

Maverick and I are strolling along the boardwalk back home – despite washing my feet at the tap, there’s still sand between my toes that tickles my skin with every step, but I could care less. He’d asked if I wanted us to take the bus—but I’d said no. Call me a loon (Bee certainly would), but, even after a full day of work—or play—nothing beats sitting outside in the quiet. Except sleep, I guess. But, when I can keep my eyes open, looking out a good view—and, boy, is this watercolour sunset some view—is perfect. After growing up in a city full of dust and cracks, I’ve embraced it: I’m gonna be one of those old ladies in a rocking chair on her porch, day and night, night and day.

Having just finished my own crêpe, I eat Maverick’s. When I ask him if he’s bothered by it, he tells me he’d bought them both for me in the first place. 

Sweet. Y’know, I really thought I was a good judge of character. I had to be, to be fair, growing up, pursuing this career – you must always assume the worst until proven otherwise. That’s the safe way, and it’s served me well. Until it had me screaming and yelling at everyone. That’s not—right. It makes me absolutely nauseous. 

So, all of these estimated traits, good and bad, have either been tossed or been filtered out.

It boils down to Maverick and his easy grin. He walks along the edge of the sidewalk, just looking at me with that goddamn easy grin. I’ve half a mind to slap him, just to give me a break from his attention. It makes me horribly self-conscious, forces a little thrill on me, like when you’re at the apex of a rollercoaster, just about to tip over. It feels like that, but it also feels like light streaming through a half-blinded window, so the warmth just collects there on the sill so that, when you touch it, you wish you could roll under it like a blanket. Of course, that warmth accumulates. I’m sweating. Like—a—pig. 

Jesus, I want to scream into my hands with how good he looks. His dark hair is still slightly damp with seawater, stiff in some places and criminally soft in others. Every now and then, he’ll pull at the white button-up that sticks just a little to his chest, to the contours of his stomach, and fan the skin there. Jesus Christ. My hands are basically twitching to touch him there, to feel the heat of him beneath my palm, solid and beating gently with his heartbeat. I clasp my fingers very tightly around my fork, my crêpe slip, concentrating it all into one point. 

I can’t tell if feeling like this is the best or the worst. Jesus, imagine if the other guys knew. They’d never shut up about it. Christ, they’d never take me seriously again. I don’t want to be the “girlfriend” – I want to be a formidable pilot. So many people just don’t think those two things can ever coexist. 

Not that I want to be a girlfriend. I couldn’t say that word out loud without feeling wrong. I’m a lot of things, but I don’t know if I could be that. 

A bike passes with an urgent ring of its bell, and Maverick twists his body in towards mine, hand hovering over my back, to push me out of the way from it. 

I go blank, scrambling to remember where we were in the conversation, mouth dry.

“So, you’re telling me,” I begin, grinning, “going into Return of the Jedi, you hoped that Luke and Leia would end up together?”

Mav sighs and rolls his eyes, tearing off a little of what remains of the crêpe. ‘Well, at the time, I didn’t know they we’re fuckin’ siblings—”

“Maverick, that is incest.”

“Come on!” he laughs, and it’s the best sound in the world. “Goose thought so, too! Luke’s the main guy, so, like, it’s not not logical to think he’d get the main girl, right—?”

“But it’s Han Solo!” I exclaim, throwing my head back with a snort. He smiles down at me, eyes warm, in a way that I’m probably misinterpreting and will replay over and over in my head when I’m trying to sleep in bed tonight. “I thought you’d be a Han Solo kind of guy.”

“What, I remind you of him?” He tosses his head back and smoulders. I fake a gag.

“Well, he’s just—he’s just—” I trail off into laughter. “He’s really—I can’t explain it! If you ask any girl, she’ll know what I mean. Han Solo is so—” I giggle again, remembering how stunned and attracted to him I was when I first watched A New Hope in the theatre. “He’s just a lot of things.”

“Oh, yeah?—like what?”

Gosh, I can feel myself burning up – does he have to lower his voice like that? Does he have to try and catch my eye? God, it’s almost easier to hate him, to be honest – at least then I wouldn’t be acting like such a puddle.

“Like, charming and daring and, um—and clever, and—I don’t know. It’s just the way he speaks or something.”

He hums, hands in his pockets, his dad’s jacket draped over his forearm – I don’t think I’ve seen him go anywhere without that leather jacket. “And you like those things?” he pushes.

I bark out a laugh. “C’mon, Maverick, everyone like those things.” True enough – I could be blind and still fall in love with Han Solo and his smooth-talking. “And why Luke? Even if they weren’t siblings, why him? He had zero chemistry with—”

“Because he’s the chosen one!”

“—yeah, well, he—”

“He’s cool! Luke is objectively cool. He’s a pilot, he’s a Jedi, he’s a leader, he’s—”

“What-ever!” I exclaim, scrunching up my nose at him, and we giggle into quiet. “I’m not saying I didn’t like him as a character – I think he’s an amazing character. I just wouldn’t fuck ‘im.” I cackle at the absurdity of it all.

We continue walking.

Maybe all of this will fade in a couple hours. Maybe it’s the magic of Top Gun, this beach, this dusk that settles in fast around us, the lights that illuminate the darkening boardwalk. It’ll all be over in a couple more weeks, anyway. Bee ‘n’ I’ll go back to the carrier and be on with things, and Maverick will do whatever it is that he does. I know Goose says we should make plans to meet after school’s out, but who really has the time to spare? So, thank God Mav didn’t ride in on his motorcycle, ‘cause, if he’d insisted I hop on and wrap my arms around him and rest my head on his shoulder and la-la-la, I’d be in great danger of sleeping with him.

“D’you wanna head straight back?”

I look up at him. “Hmm?”

Jesus, he needs to tone down his looks or something – it’s disarming, a hazard, really. Those green eyes are givin’ me some mean butterflies, alright. Nowadays, I’ll see him fresh out of the sky, hair spiky and dishevelled with sweat – he doesn’t wear helmet hair as well as others, that’s for certain – and I’ll have to bury my face in my locker. I’ll see him absentmindedly chewing on his dog-tags, and it’ll have me air-headed for the rest of a lecture. I can’t classify it as a distraction, but it’s—certainly not intended. My head isn’t screwed on so tight, and I can’t keep tipping up in the cockpit – I know my ambition to win and these thoughts about Maverick have no correlation, but, good God, maybe if I could just focus more in classes—

“There’s—” he starts, then swallows. “We could go to the pier. Not really a view anymore, but we could see some lights. Boats, maybe.”

“Yeah,” I reply, excitement jolting through my body.

“Yeah?” I nod. He smiles. “Okay.”

When he asks me if I’m cold, he readjusts his jacket on his arm, like he’s already made his mind up to lend it to me. Of course, I shake my head – I’d probably end up stinking up the damn thing with how much I seem to be sweatin’.

We take our time to the end of the pier. When we reach the railing, we step up onto the bar and lean out to look down at the softly lapping water.

“You—erm—”

I turn to look at him, and the stutter of his words stops abruptly, his eyes wide. He looks at me dumbly, like I’m one of the seven fuckin’ wonders. Now, I’ve seen Maverick drunk, stupid, and downright embarrassing himself—just think of the time she lost that fuckin’ lovin’ feeling—but, even when he doesn’t know something, he always keeps face. He always has something to say. Now?—now, here, he looks hopeless.

“You—”

“I what, Mitchell?” I grin, shoving my hair behind my ear in light of the strong breeze that suddenly billows in from across the sea. “Watching the ships, right?” There they are: little dots on the horizon.

He flushes, snapping his attention away. “Right.”

I know what’s coming – I pick up on all of it: the fidgeting of his hands, the downcast dart of his eyes, the way he bites down on the inside of his cheek. Though it kinda perks me up to begin with, I just end up wilting again at the reminder of a certain instructor who I am evidently not.

Still, it’s nice to hear him say: “It’s just—” I tilt my head towards him, “—I think you’ve got great eyes. Great everything really. I dunno. I think—you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

I snort. “That 4% really got to you, hey, Mav?”

He doesn’t laugh, just pauses, takes a second to think about what he’s going to say. “I—don’t know—how to say it.”

My heart drops—in the bad way. “What?"

“That I think about you—a lot.”

Oh, Christ. I let out a deep sigh, and, immediately, his face drops like a stone. “Oh, don’t do that, Maverick.”

“Do what?” he protests through a weak smile.

I recoil just a little bit: he’s a flirt, yes, but I didn’t take him for a dirtbag. “Do what?” my ass. He knows what. Blonde-hair-and-bright-eyes, who’s what. Think of how smart she is, how accomplished she is, how beautiful she is, how level and respected she is – all of these things and a man can still write Charlie of as not that big a deal? That’s fuckin’ low.

“You’re being mean,” I tell him firmly, trying to force down the disgust that pushes under my tongue and the embarrassment that burns over my cheeks.

Maybe Carole and Goose really weren’t exaggerating. Maybe he has got eight women all lined up for him, just waiting for him to call.

His hand makes to touch my shoulder but doesn’t end up making contact – it just hovers, unsure. Either way, I wasn’t going to let it happen. Either way, I find myself scurrying back, away.

Mav has the audacity to look confused. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to—”

“So, what?” I snap, hopping down from the railing and scowling unabashedly at him once more. “I’m one of those girls you string along?”

He laughs – only, it’s not cute anymore; it’s fucking annoying. “No—!”

The wind blows strongly, warm, still, but with the promise of a storm. I have to raise my voice in order to get myself across, I tell myself: “What?—you wanna challenge yourself, or something? Me and Charlie—?”

This?—this seems to piss him off. Mav’s expression crumples into indigence as he protests strongly again, “No—!"

“But—”

“Phantom,” he presses desperately, eyes pleading for me to listen – I’ve seen that expression on him before; every time I’ve ignored it, I’ve ended up regretting it, yelling myself silly over a misunderstanding. So, I pause. I listen. The urgent haze fades away within the span of three deep breaths.

“I wanted Charlie’s advice on how to speak to you. I was nervous—am nervous—and I don’t want to say the wrong thing. She’s very—to-the-point. And Goose and Bee fluff like their lives depend on it.”

Nice one. Nice going, Tommy: do what you do best and throw a fuckin’ rage, why don’t you?

“I thought you didn’t like me—” I say to him dumbly, “—after what I said to you.”

We don’t talk about that argument in the locker rom. We don’t talk about the one after volleyball either, or the one in the air. It’s no excuse – that Viper is breathing down my neck, that I know Skipper expects highly of me – to act like a dick to all the competitors that block my way to that damn trophy. I need to climb this hill.

And here Maverick is, thinking about me—a lot.

“Your opinion matters to me more than you’d think,” he admits with a snarky, little snort. “You’re—” he trails off; the gale dies down. “You’re just—I don’t know how to put it. I’m—not great at the serious-talking stuff.”

“Embarrassed?” I tease. God, I know I am.

He grins. “A little bit.”

We make our way back to the dorms, talking. He tells me he’s liked me ever since this one lecture at the beginning of Top Gun—after the induction, after the bar, after the first exercise—when he’d said something dumb in response to Charlie’s criticism. According to him: “You turned back and looked at me and—and you just smiled. God, I dunno – I just couldn’t look away from you. Even—even after you, y’know, y’turned back around, I—I was just staring at the back of your head, hoping you’d do it again. That you’d look at me again, smile at me again.”

I don’t even remember that day.

He walks me to the door of my dorm, where the windows are all dark and the blinds all flat shut.

No way to make it up to him. No time, either. Should’ve kissed him right then and there at the bar that first night when he came over to the jukebox. Bee saw it in my face – I know that now. I should’ve let him win that bet with himself.

I might be about to do him that favour now, I guess. All flushed, all pretty, all nervous—he gets nervous?—Maverick is so close to me that the heat of his body radiates onto mine, far too dangerous for my liking. This is not what I intended. This is so far off my plan of how this program was gonna go.

But his nose is brushing mine, and his hands are so warm and gentle as they press over my arms.

“Can—?”

I nod softly. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

The kiss, when it comes, is this soft, tentative sink into a brittle release. The gentle press of his nose into my warm cheek elicits a quiet sigh from the both of us – the break from silence must render me into this here embarrassing mess, melting like the ice-cream we shared earlier in the hot sun, because Mav gets that shit-eating grin on his face like he’s watching me lose to him at volleyball all over again. Whatever – he’s the one that probably had to take a cold shower over how I looked.

I cup my hand over the back of his neck, drawing him closer still to me.

Maverick kisses like he’s paying attention to every single detail of it – his eyes are slanted just slightly open, watching my face, and one of his hands rests kindly over my neck, his fingers pressing just a little into the pulse point which I’m sure is racing like a damn horse by now.  

Of course, he’s beautiful at this. Just my fuckin’ luck. Technically, yes, it is prohibited to have sexual relations on work premises. Even a man and a woman behind a locked door is assumed to be inappropriate – I’ve heard that one too many a time by the air boss back on the carrier. I’m far from a goody-two-shoes, but rules are rules for a reason. So, of course, it’s just my luck that I meet an unfairly handsome pilot with pretty eyes and entirely too destabilising a kiss. He trails his nose down along my jaw before burying it there in my neck; I hold him tight to me, fingers curling around the thick muscle of his shoulders.

When we kiss again, it’s different: searing, crushing, slow, breathless. The chorus of crickets and cicadas and other night-things is drowned out by the roaring of blood in my ears and the soft noise that slips past Mav’s lips as he pauses for breath, to pant hotly over my cheek.

“You’re gonna have to help me out here, stud,” I mumble helplessly against him, to which he nods fiercely, reaching out blind for the door-knob and guiding me stumbling into my room.

Bee isn’t here – upon the side table, there’s a little, folded note that reads in chicken-scratch handwriting: Staying with Goose for the night. Have fun!

#pete mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell x reader #pete mitchell #top gun #top gun maverick #goose bradshaw #tom cruise x reader #im back on my bullshit #i feel the need for speed #i need him in me

[tinywitchgoblin]

Hi! If you're still doing ship requests!

I'm working on getting into either a trade school for culinary arts or a uni for English literature.

I have really long hair, naturally it's dark brown all though it's dyed red rn. I'm 5'2" and stocky. I have anxiety, ADHD and C-PTSD. ngl I mainly wear sweatpants and tank tops because I spend most of my time working in a commercial kitchen

I was a competitive swimmer for years and now I coach pre-competitive kids! I also read a lot (published books and fanfic). I'm a D&D playing theatre kid who loves writing and music (pop, alternative, indie and some rock).

I come across as pretty bitchy and pissed off at first, I have a horrible rbf lol. Really, I just have kinda bad social anxiety. I'm sarcastic and teasing with my friends and I tend to become the mom friend because I take care of everyone. I'm a typical perfectionist eldest daughter and I tend to overthink things a lot. I'm an INTJ-T, Slytherin and an Aquarius. I also have a habit of being willing to square up to just about anyone, even guys twice my size

thank you so much, I love your writing so so so much!!!!

Awww thank you 🥺

I ship you with...

Tech!

Others may find you intimidating upon first meeting you, but not Tech. Sure, you have rbf, but that (and your unending sarcasm) just remind him of Crosshair, so he doesn't care. He desires to know you on a deeper level, so once he finds out what some of your interests are, he'll do some background research on them.

One thing he's really interested in is D&D. He finds it very intriguing, and sets about reading all of the basic materials- dm's manual, player's manual, monster manual, etc (but he totally doesn't go buy a metric fuck ton of dice, because that would be totally unnecessary when one set is good enough. Totally. We totally believe you, Tech... fucking dice gremlin (but who am I to judge?)). He wants to get his brothers involved and start a campaign, but none of them are really interested, so he eventually drops it.

Speaking of reading, Tech loves it when you fill him in on what you're reading, and may even ask if he could read it when you're done. Once he finds out you read fanfic, though, everything changes. He must read every piece of fanfic written about him across the entirety of the unholy trinity (tumblr, ao3, wattpad), and sometimes you have to pull him and his newly inflated ego down to earth a bit, but you enjoy it nonetheless because it's time the two of you get to spend together.

If you're having a bad day mental health-wise, Tech will do everything in his power to help you through it. He'll make sure you take your meds (if applicable), get enough to eat, make you drink adequate amounts of water, and provide whatever other means of support he can. He may not be able to empathize with your symptoms and experiences, but the longer you and he are together, the more he understands your needs, especially in times like these. He makes it his #1 priority to not only make sure his cyare is cared for, but to also make sure you know he cares for you and loved you more than he knows how to express.

-

Thanks for reading! If you want a ship request like this one, drop it in my ask box, and don't forget to reblog 💚

#the bad bois #the bad batch #tech bad batch #tech x reader #technically #tech #technology #tbb tech #tech the bad batch #tech tbb #star wars x reader

[allisonswritings]

Introduction

Hey, my name is Allison. This is my side blog containing writings from poems I've finished, and books I am working on. I am an ambivert; I match the energy you give me. If you're an ass, I'll be an ass. If you're yourself, I'll be myself. If you're nice then I'll be nice. You get it. I'm an October baby. I've been writing since I was in second grade, so for nine years, with two poems published, 28 written in total, and am currently working on 13 books.

My pronouns are she/her and I am straight.

I dream of becoming a psychiatrist, joining the national guard, and graduating from an Ivy League school.

I am 17, a minor. Please no weird messages. I'm fine if you're older than 18 but don't message in a weird way or I'll hit the block button faster than you can blink.

My main blog is @the0nlyallison where I do a lot of reblogging and random posting.

My socials:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61555026725869&mibextid=ZbWKwL

Pinterest: https://pin.it/4Ne7aYf8T

Discord: the0nly_allison (it's a zero not an o)

YouTube: https://youtube.com/@the0nly_allison?si=9zR1QxdDhHOPBZvo

Wattpad: the0nly_allison

*i will post motivations and inspiration on my Facebook at least once a day*

*my Pinterest and YouTube will contain things similar as to what would be posted on Instagram until I actually get Instagram*

*my Wattpad will have the same stuff on here, I just write it on there and copy and paste it here*

Feel free to add me and talk to me. My dms are always open. If you ever need a talk I won't judge and will be here for you.

#introductory post

[kataraseye]

Writing contest: Stars in your mind

Hello!

(The application is at the bottom)

So I've decided to make a small writing contest, where you'll have to complete an application (ofc everyone is welcomed). I'm not sure yet of the prize, so if you have any suggestions, leave them down bellow.

Basically, this is a contest where you can let your creativity flow and have fun, there is no pressure. There is no commitment, if you just one to use the themes, you're more than welcomed.

There will be 5 themes and you can participate in at least 3 of them to win the contest (if you participate in all of them, even if you don't win, you’ll get a bonus prize).

You can join anytime you want, the contest will last until June. For example, if you want to participate in May, you will complete the application then and if you do 3 of the 5 themes, you can still win.

If anybody wants to be a judge with me, you can text me in private or in the comments. BUT, we won't give much negative feedback nor will we stress out the participants because the whole point of this writing contest is to help people get out of their writers' block and/or have fun.

You don't have to write only romance!!!

Romance is just one of my preferences, but any genre is welcomed.

You can participate in the contest with:

your own OCs (own characters)

it can be OC × any character from a show

Characters from any animated show (animes or cartoons)

I'd rather have you all chose between these shows, to make the grading objective:

ATLA

Avatar Korra

SHERA

Fullmetal Alchemist

Monster

Naruto

Demon slayer

Attack on Titan

But you can choose from any show you want.

Other things:

(be aware of the trigger warning that will be at the end)

You can add explicit content in your fiction

You can add gore elements or violence of any way

If you have any questions, you can text me anytime

There will be a time limit, but if you're late, it's OK, you'll get 5 points off. If you're on time all of the contest, you'll get another special prize.

English is not my first language, so I will not take off points for grammatical mistakes or stuff like that.

Post it on AO3 or Wattpad with the title of the book: The Writing Contest: Stars in your mind. Each chapter should be a theme. For example, instead of chapter one, you will name it the theme name: (then you can add anything you want for a title) .

Tw:

NO!!!: pedophilia, SA, CSA, anorexia, bulimia, incest or zoophilia

Prizes:

(I'll only do one of the options):

1st place

I'll read and promote all of your books. I'll also leave a comment on all of them.

In case you have only one book and you think it's unfair, but you plan on writing more, you can always @ me and I'll read it and give you comments related to the content of your book.

If you don't plan on publishing any books, I'll give you reviews and comments + repost any 8 pieces of writing you'll make (outside of the contest, of course).

2nd place

I'll do the same, but for half of your books

or if you only have one, for the next two books you'll write, I'll comment on them, just @ me.

And for the third option, I'll give you reviews and comments + I'll repost any 4 pieces of writing you’ll make (outside of the contest, of course).

3rd place

I'll read one of your books (you can choose which one) and I'll give you a comment on your website of choice. I'll promote it on my Tumblr account.

If you don't have any published books, I'll give you reviews and comments + I'll repost any 2 pieces of writing you’ll make (outside of the contest, of course).

Bonus prizes:

Thank you

@fragrant-stars and @coconutsaiyan for your reply to the original post💕

The application:

Please repost and tag people 🙏

#atla #aang #katara #zuko #kataang #zuko x mai #catradora #ladybug #mlb #avatar the last airbender #shera #fmab #fma oc #monster #demon slayer #korrasami #tlok korra #atla and tlok #tlok #korra #writing contest #writers #fanfiction #fanfic #oc #oc x character #own characters #ships #ship #please repost

[anonymous-dentist]

on my hands and knees please please PLEASE get worse on your fic Crepusculo, I need to constantly be reminded that this is thanks to 2011 era Wattpad, I was giggling reading it but I need to physically recoil at some obscure detail in there, like come ON make me regret every choice I made ever you know you'll enjoy that too.

Also I need to draw cellbit having an actual honest to god aneurism because I know he would not have survived being asked for his hand en sagrado matrimonio in front of a billion judgy jealous people in a fancy pansy event by the prince of anything, he would drop dead if it wasn't for his current status as Actually Dead. Like he had heart palpitations and his heart hasn't beaten in 73 years I know that in my soul and so do you. Thats why you left in a cliffhanger, Cellbit faints in the next chapter.

So, full disclosure, I've. Never actually read anything on Wattpad. Ever. Everything I'm writing comes straight from shitty Booktok books, hence the chapter titles for every chapter in this fic being "A Court of ___ and ___". But I have a few tricks up my sleeve, don't worry

Meanwhile, yeah, so. He would've passed out from the knowledge that this engagement might get his son killed if he wasn't worried about everybody judging him even harder (remember, qCellbit is actually an extrovert, he just has a low social battery.)

Instead, he faints approximately two seconds after everybody goes back to partying- this time as part of a proper engagement party- and poor Roier is stuck with an unconscious maybe-vampire to deal with. He panics, Cellbit is stressed even in his sleep, and Roier takes a look at his sleeping fiance's face for the very first time and goes, "Well, I could've chosen worse."

#asks! #vampire au fic

[chazycheese]

summery: this is a Wattpad story, if you want the summery please read the book bye angiexstarkey

Warning: smut, dirty talk, praise kink

RAFE HAS BEEN gone for at least 3 hours now and it's driving me crazy, he is supposed to be by my side for the next 12 hours, I wanted to strangle him but at the same time, I wanted to sleep.

I know it may seem strange but Rafe doesn't seem to have any interest in his phone Nor are people texting him but, who am I to judge its none of my business anyway, "Hey" a female voice pops up in the silent room.

I softly opened my eyes to see the blond middle Cameron child, she had this amazing short cocktail dress on, it was sort of transparent in the middle giving anyone an advantage of everyone seeing her stomach, "I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go to a party with me?"

"Where?" I quietly ask rubbing my eyes, "At toppers" I would have loved to go but I wasn't sure if Rafe would approve I mean what if I worry him, "I don't know what about Rafe?" I say in a calm tone and watch as Sarah tilts her head.

"What are you talking about Rafes at the party" my mouth drops, that took me enough Courage to get my ass up, I started walking again meaning I could finally feel better about myself and not useless, so I practically shouted yes to going to the party.

Sarah smirked at my approval and almost dragged me upstairs to her room, she looked through her packed closet that I neatly organized by color and size, not that matters, "okay let's see" the girl mumbled, she takes a step to the blacks to find a black tight dress that shows off my bare legs, I didn't care though I would have taken anything I get since I've never been to a party.

Speaking for Topper as well, only when I'm gone that's when throws a party, that's something I would love to talk to him about, I didn't have my phone on me, I left it at Topper's and that's why I couldn't text Rafe.

I put the dress on and watched as Sarah takes out my hair that has been in a ponytail for 2 days straight, I couldn't comprehend anything else just the fact that I was pissed at Rafe and I would get pure payback.

"I want to make sure you look your best" Sarah explained, a grin forming on my lips at the sight of her wicked smile, she brushed out my hair taking every last of my knot in my hair, "Okay I guess you could say I'm a miracle worker"

I turn out of the chair and walk to the very large mirror sitting in her room, I let out a loud sigh at the sight of my toned body, she is a miracle worker and I couldn't thank her enough, I pulled out a 20 dollar bill from my jeans laying on the floor and handed it out to Sarah.

"I can't take that sorry" and with that, she pushed my hand away and threw me back on the chair, "Do you mind me putting makeup on?" she questions at this point there is no turning back now right?.

She grabbed the red lip gloss and placed the lipstick on my lips, my cracked lips soften at the liquid of the gloss, I could swear Sarah wanted to screech when she was done but she held her voice back and grabbed some eyelashes and put the glue on the hem.

she then pushes it on my eye in the gentlest manner ever, she repeated her action on the other eye and put a hint of blush on my cheeks, she looked at me again and just nodded her head smiling at me.

I looked in the mirror and was studded to see me, but not pouge me, Kook, I and I felt clean, not that pouges aren't but this new me is really pretty I guess.

"If your going you need matching shoes," the girl says looking through her closet, my chest rises after taking a deep breath in and watching as her hands come back out with a pair of black Leathered high heels.

"This can totally fit e says looking down at my feet, she places them on the floor as I stand from the chair, I walk to the shoes placing them in one by one, and each side fits perfectly.

The new height I have made me blush slightly, "Thank you" I tell looking at the blond girl smiling proudly, "I think it's time to go now, missy.

I roll my eyes as she drags me down the stairs, the heals making it very difficult to walk.

The car ride was silent, Sarah was nice, "I guess some people can change huh" I thought to myself in my head. I watched as Sarah pulled into the parking lot of Toppers house, The loud music blasts threw my ears as I step out.

Sarah did the same and we both started walking, as we step inside the large house I spot people drinking, making out and snorting coke.

I groan at the sight of that, I thought topper new better then to bring people who snort coke to his party, I was mad, but at the same time I guess you could say I wanted to have fun, for the first time in forever I just want to have fun.

So I took a deep breath in as I grab Sarah's hand and brung her to the bar where all the drinks are, I took whatever I could fine but Sarah on the other hand was keeping an eye out for herself making sure she doesn't get drunk.

On the other hand for me it wouldn't be a bad thing, it's not like I'll be doing something stupid, I chugged a whole ass vodka bottle down my thought and felt the minor pain, I was choking and all.

"take it slow, I don't want to have to carry you out" The blond Cameron takes the bottle away from me causing me to whimper, "Common let me have fun for once" I take to bottle back fast and slick so I can run away with it.

Sarah shouts my name as I run in the large crowed of people, my giggles get interrupted by the sound of Rafe and Toppers voice, I take a quick peak between to boys and see Topper snorting a line, Rafe had the bag in his hand and thats when I knew it was Rafe.

I can't tell anyone how mad I was, so I stomped in the front of them with the bottle in my hand and watch as Toppers eyes widen, "Shit Liv what are you doing here?" he asks standing from the chairs, I shake my head at him then loom straight to Rafe.

"What the fuck did you do?"

"what did I do?"

"Yeah Topper would never taken coke if he wasn't forced to"

"Shut the fuck up you weren't even there"

My mouth drops open at the fact that he told me fuck you and my anger struck, I jumped on the boy pulling at his hair and slapping his back, I heard loud gasps but I didn't say anything.

I kept my mined off everyone and focused on beating the shit out of Rafe, " get this crazy bitch off me" Rafe told Top and he got up pulling me off, he was strong so it wasn't really that hard for me to go flying to the floor.

"Olivia what the hell is wrong with you I asked Rafe for the coke so stop being such a bitch" Topper yells, I watched the room go silent and everyone staring at me, Rafe looked upset but not at me, even tho he has every right to be.

I stood up grabbing someones beer from there hand and chugging it down, at the moment forward I couldn't stop, I wanted more and more, I wanted to forget this party, I wanted to have fun.

But that was all stopped when a hand unwinded in mine and dragged me to someplace in a dark room.

"What the hell?"

THE ROOM WAS dark and I couldn't really see anything, "It's just me" the sudden light of I guess a closet turned on and Rafe stood there with a sad frown, "Hey look I'm sorry okay Olivia I never meant to call you a bitch"

I close my eyes shut before Turing around facing my face to his, there was a little space in the closet and I didn't really have anywhere else to go.

"Rafe I should be apologizing but why did you listen to Topper when he asked for the fucking drugs" I ask, the boy let's out a sigh, "What did you want me to do let him freak out and fidget for the drugs?"

"So he took it before?"

"Yeah" he looks down at the floor, "what the hell is wrong with you, did you make him take it before Rafe"

"Y-yes" I slap him right across and giving him a red mark of my handprint, "I'm leaving" I try walking away but the boy just took me by the hand and brung me back to the position we where in.

He looks up and down before smirking, "your not going to let me make it up to you?"

I give him a confused look before he tells me to sit on the table, I roll my eyes but just go with it, "I promise when this is all over I'm pretty sure you won't be able to walk again"

He places his hand on my thigh rubbing up and down "Rafe what are you-" he slowly moves his hand up higher and higher, my breathing starts to hitch, honestly I thought he was going to give me a foot massage but I guess dreams don't come true.

"Shh" he hushes me and sits, my throat felt a huge lump and the more he came closer to me the harder it was for me to not fall for his trap, I need to think about the text messages he had with the girls.

"Can I?" The boy asks mentioning to lift the dress, my ankles hang slightly swinging back and fourth as he pouts, I nod not even knowing what I'm doing, he smirks lifting it up revealing my black lace underwear.

I roll my eyes and nod once more, he gives me a look raising his eyebrows, I know exactly what he wanted it but I didn't really want to say it, "yes"

He lets out a small laugh and pulled it down fully, it doesn't take him anytime to run his finger threw my folds, feeling the wetness, I gasped at the cold air, he chuckled slightly waiting for the right time do make his move.

"Trust me" he whispers Kissing at my thighs, causing me to whimper, "god" I moan out, the sensation was nice and easy, he was gentle with me be, but at the same time he was rough.

"I know you already said yes but I need to know if your 100% positive with your answer" he sits up standing upright between my legs, "y/n I need an answ-" I cut him of by pulling him from the collar of his polo shirt into a kiss.

At first he didn't kiss back, but he sooner or later he melted into the kiss, biting my lip, and me tugging on his hair, my underwear was now on the floor with the bottom of my dress on my lap causing Rafe to get a nice view of my privet part.

"Please" I beg, as Rafe starts rubbing small circles on my thigh, "what do you want baby?"

"You inside me" he grins into the kiss leaving then pulling back, "but don't you want me to stretch you out first?" I shake my head in the answer of no. I was so needy, it was almost pathetic.

"Okay but you can always change you mind" he kisses my jaw line. Before undoing his pants, his hard on was visible through his boxers.

But he wasted no time taking off them as well, I was stunned the at sight, "your so big" I let out, he chuckles darkly, "you can take it"

"I can?" I question almost unsure, how could he be so positive about this, "What if it's to much"

"Then" he attempts a thrust pushing all the way inside of me, I let out a loud shriek, "I'll fuck you like this" I cry out as he slowly moves back then pushing, and repeating his actions over and over.

The feeling was unbearably amazing, there was no sign of pleasure or pain, it was almost like a mix between.

It was confusing, he didn't move after that, he stood still and let me adjust to his size. "Don't worry" he kisses my cheek, "give it a minute" God I hate myself, and what I am doing.

"I gonna move now"

He pulls back slowly looking and watching my face to see if there is any sign of pain during this, "Shit" I blurt, then what's when he stopped, "Are you okay?" He asks, I roll my eyes because this has to be the 6th time he asked already.

"Rafe I'm fine just go a little slower" he nods performing a thrust back into my, slowly moving his body closer to mine, to the point where I feel his warm body on the cold skin of mine.

"Fuck" I breath out, he gives me a confused look, he starts going a little faster, making sure to stretch me out fully.

"Oh shit" Rafe hits my G-spot with a full thrust and I lost it.

God it felt so good when he did that, my body was now Limp and my knees where weak. Rafe stood between my thighs standing as I sit down on the table.

This was a kinda hard position to be in but I he seem to be good at this.

"Found it" he whispers in my ear then hitting the exact same spot with every thrust, "holy sh-" I cut myself off with a moan, Rafe sees me rolling my eyes in the back of my head and that was a single he should go faster.

He started thrusting a bit faster, but not to hard, he was more of a gentle guy this night, "please go harder-" I couldn't barley speak.

He was set off and started thrusting deep into me, my mind was unsteady, as my legs bounced up and down, I wrap my arms around his neck allowing him to take full control over my body.

He let out whimpers and moans, but once I became to loud he puts his hand over my mouth muffling my pathetic sounds. He has his mouth over my body, everywhere, expect for the things that are still covered my cloth.

"Rafe holy shit" I start to scratch his back, he felt amazing like this, and he's getting the best view of me as possible.

"Don't make a sound" he bites the lob of me ear, then coming back from my jawline to my lips,

"I'm gonna mark every part of your body"

"So they all know your mine" That's where he got me, I'm not really his but since he's blinded by sex I'll go with it, because truth be told, I'm blinded by him fucking me to.

There's something about him that makes me all tingly. The way he thrusts, the way he asks if I'm okay, the way he whispers little nice things in my ear like "your so pretty, Im sorry, I can't believe I have you like this"

Pleasure mixed with praise is the best of its kind, I liked the way Rafe worshiped my body, and I don't know if this a one time thing or not but I hope it isn't.

He puts his hand on my wetness and starts rubbing small circles, "you know how sexy you look" I'm pretty sure my makeup is ruined.

And I'm all sweaty and my mascara is falling off my eyes, as if I was crying but, it was so worth it.

"Fuck fuck fuck"

"You close"

I nod with the left strength I have, he moves faster and faster, and hitting harder and harder, he knows now that I need this, that if he haven't done this and let me leave I wouldn't be in a closet fucking him while everyone could probably here.

"Rafe I'm gonna-"

"I know"

It felt like an explosion in my area, Rafe pulls out looking down at the mess I made, then jerking himself off because we both know well he can't finish in me.

Because that would lead to me having a child and I can't do that.

He cleans me up with a towel then throwing it on a floor, I could care less though, I live hear and would pick it up later.

I try to stand up but that flopped, "are you okay" I shake my head and he starts laughing non stop, "fuck" he picks me up by my back thighs and holds onto my like I was a baby.

Of corse be put his clothes on before me, but didn't think to allow me to put my lingerie back on, he most likely put it in his back pocket, "I'm taking you back to my house" he tells, as if I can't decide.

"I still need to watch after you, fire"

Fire?

#drew starkey #rafe x female!mc #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #drew starkey smut #vinnie hacker smut #outerbanks rafe #outer banks #obx smut #drew starkey x y/n #jj maybank smut #jj mayback x reader #drew starkey x reader

[shayyprasad]

happy halloween to all, i guess | peter parker

tw: panic attack

posted to wattpad on halloween just putting it up here

also, can i marry mj

sorry this was posted late lololol

don't hate me for having y/n dislike horror movies cuz me personally, ik that horror movies can trigger things like trauma, loss of sleep (insomnia), and panic attacks

it depends on the person and they shouldn't ever be judged for that, because you simply cannot control these things

anyways thats it lmao

this is kinda based of smth that happened irl except i'm hopelessly single and don't have a peter parker, quite sadly  

i bet u enjoyed this super long authors note

summary: halloween starts off fine, and then... well, it's not so fine.

you tried not to smile as you applied a layer of lipstick to your lips, eager to begin the night that lay ahead of you.

halloween was no doubt one of the best days of the year, and yes, despite being almost 17, you still went trick-or-treating. dignity was a mere price to pay at the rate of your happiness (in candy, of course).

but it had also gotten better after you starting dating peter in the 8th grade, because since then you and peter would always dress up together. this year it was peter pan and wendy, and you were beyond excited. you were dressed in her outfit, a blue dress, with your hair in a half up-half down hairstyle, held up with a blue bow. you hadn't done much with your hair, aside from curl it.

"i got it!" you screeched as you raced down the stairs, almost falling to your death multiple times, to answer the door. your parents locked eyes, clearly amused as you cleared your throat, straightened up and answered the door.

"hi, peter!" you grinned, grabbing your tote bag, because it would hold more candy, and yelling out a quick "love you, be home sometime today, i think" and closing the front door behind you.

he kissed you on the cheek, admiring your costume. "you look really pretty," he blushed.

"thanks, babes. you look pretty, too."

he helped you get in the car before getting in himself, "aww, love, you saved me shotgun!" you grinned, sticking your tongue out at mj and ned in the back. mj was a giant cardboard book, and ned was yoda.

peter looked at you, a sweet smile on his face as he rested his hand on your thigh. "'course, i gotta have my passenger princess with me at all times."

"god, gross. can you not eye-fuck each other for, like, 5 seconds?" mj rolled her eyes.

"we weren't-" peter tried. 

but it didn't matter because you and mj were already catching up, even though you saw each other at school. something about brad and jessica, but he hadn't bothered much. his hand was still in the same place, with yours on top.

"okay," ned interrupted, "mj's neighborhood, right? you know they have the best candy?"

"then why'd you pick me up?" she asked.

you shrugged, "the candy's okay. you just like her place because that one house was handing out starwars figurines."

"that's not- yeah, no, you're right," ned shrugged.

"okay," nodded peter, "mj's place it is."

"again, why'd you pick me up then?"

the next couple hours were spent getting weird stares and collecting candy until most people went inside. at that point, you and the others decided to go to peter's and spend the rest of the night binge-watching halloween movies and stuffing your face with candy.

"i think we should watch the exorcist!" peter declared and you instantly frowned.

you hated horror movies. why would someone willingly want to be subject to a heart attack? that was completely, totally, nonsensical.

but peter did really seem excited about this, so maybe for one night you could suck it up. besides, when was the best time to watch a movie? halloween, right?

mj shrugged, "i don't care what we do."

"we totally should!" ned pumped his fist up and you mentally groaned.

"can weeee? pleaseee?" peter pouted.

"god, i can't think straight when you give me that face. but sure, i guess. i don't really care either," you said, trying to seem nonchalant. but mj must have seen right through your whole facade, because she rose a brow at you. 

"awesomeeeee!" peter and ned high-fived each other before your boyfriend eagerly lunged for the tv remote, searching up the exorcist. 

for the entire time you had your eyes on the screen, your heart rate never went down. you were trying to power through for peter, considering how happy he looked for it, not that you understood why. you squirmed and fidgeted against the couch, trying to muster up the courage to say something. 

you could only take about about an hour until you felt like you'd reached your limit. your palms itched and your chest felt constricted. clumsily excusing yourself for the bathrrom, you stumbled out the front door, feeling the hot flashes against your skin, making your brain go fuzzy.

pulling up your knees to your chest, you clutched both sides of your head with you hands, heavy, ragged breaths leaving your mouth. you couldn't breath at all, and it felt like the edges of the world were blurring together, making everything feel hazy, sending you into a dark, starless oblivion. 

hot tears were streaming down your face, and you were struggling to calm down.

"y/n? y/n! there you are! you'd been gone a long time, so i thought you were taking a dump, but you weren't in the-"

you didn't bother to look up, still focused on yourself. 

"hey, angel, is everything okay? well, that was a stupid question. i-i'm here, love, i'm here," he wrapped his arms around you tightly, engulfing you a tight bear hug. you tried to pry yourself out of his grip, but he didn't let go. 

you felt your breaths slow down and become more full, and you weren't crying anymore. you eased yourself into him and rested your head into the crook of his neck, sniffling quietly. 

"feeling better now?"

you nodded. 

"yeah, uh, i read somewhere that bear hugs help. b-because i know you, um, get those often, and i wanted to be able to help... because, you know, i love you," you cheeks flamed red as he spoke, the two of you had over only exchanged those words twice and counting. 

"i love you, too," you murmured. 

"w-what happened, baby?"

"um, it's stupid. like, really stupid," your voice broke and you knew he'd find it pathetic. 

"i won't, i promise. you can talk to me, y/n, i'll never, ever, judge you."

"i just- i don't like scary movies," you cringed slightly at your words and how they sounded. 

"that's it?"

"see? i knew you'd find it stupid," you pulled away from him, "because it is. and i'm stupid because i can't watch a freaking make-believe movie, and i'm so sorry because your girlfriend is a big, pathetic, stupid baby-"

"no, no, no, that's not what i meant! first, don't call my girlfriend any of those things, because she's not," he continued when he saw you smile. "and second, i'm the one who should be sorry. because that's on me. it's on me that i didn't know, and that put you in that position and made you feel like you had to watch that stupid movie." you didn't say anything, paying attention to the cracks in the steps.

"i'm so sorry, love, i had known, i wouldn't have put it on. and, hey, don't feel stupid. everyone get scared. i'm scared of spiders and i'm spider-man, for god-sakes," well, that made you laugh. 

"it's okay. not your fault," you moved back into this side. 

"we're good, right?"

"right."

"rad. now how about we watch monster house intstead? wanna know a secret? that's what ned's afraid of. he calls it a fever dream," he snickered. 

"that's 'cause it is. also, did you just use 'rad'?"

#spiderman #tom holland #peter parker #tom holland x reader #halloween amirite #tw panic attack #yay still copying and pasting

[zutraeumen]

Materialistic Seduction

This is a part of my one-shot book about Raiden called: Ceraunophile. You can find the whole book on these platforms: FanFiction, AO3, Wattpad or Quotev. Mortal Kombat belongs to its respectful owners.

Ceraunophile 🌩 Masterlist

Materialistic Seduction [+18]

"Do you think this looks better than the mustard one?"

Sonya asked you as you turned around to give your opinion on another dress your friend tried on. For what occasion one might ask? Well, answer that for yourself- just kidding. Johnny had asked Sonya to be his date for the premiere of his new film, and Sonya (not surprisingly) had no suitable dress in her closet. Not for a red-carpet event at least.

Hell, you didn't possess one either, so who were you to judge?

As a true best friend should, Sonya had asked for your help, and you, as a best friend should, didn't even hesitate to accompany her on a trip to the mall. You saw no harm in helping out, to be another pair of eyes here for you to find the best fit.

Only then did you realize just how bad of an idea taking you was.

You had literally never bought a dress for yourself IN YOUR LIFE! How were you to know what colours would match your best friend?!

"It does, but I have a feeling something blue would make your hair stand out more. Hmm..." trailing off, you perused the different articles, acting as if you had any real idea of what specifically you were looking for.

Admit it, you were just trying to sound a bit helpful even though you were doing most of the research on the spot. Behind your friend's back while the blonde was changing, googling as a woman possessed for articles that gave you an incentive on what colours to look out for.

Elder Gods, your inner woman felt pathetic.

Okay, enough self-pity, get over yourself, this shouldn't be that hard! Just turn on your brain and make logical connections!

You stood by your belief that a turquoise blue would most brilliantly stand out against Sonya's blond tress and matching blue eyes. Plain was off the table, it HAD to be something glamorous so it matched with her date's personality as much as it would shock him once he would lay eyes on her. You were convinced that with Sonya's level of confidence and sculpted body, she had what it took to rock any dress.

Your mind was running seven miles per hour at this point as you searched for a worthy candidate for what you had envisioned and- OH MY GOD THAT DRESS THERE WAS PERFECT!

It didn't take much for you to imagine your best friend in this piece of art. With gentle fingers, you took it off its hanger and presented it to the Commander.

"This Sonya, trust me, this is the one we've been looking for."

You tell her, sounding positively captivated by your choice, your friend noted discreetly as Sonya made her way to the changing room. She emerged after a short amount of time, slowly falling in love with the magnificent piece herself as you stood by her side against the massive mirror.

"[Y/N], I have to say, you might be right. It does look kinda good on me."

Your head almost unscrew itself from your spine so fast did you turn to your friend, unbelieving of what you were hearing, "Kinda?! Girl, don't tell me no bullshit, you look positively ravishing! Johnny's jaw will be hanging on the floor for the rest of the evening, you'll see!"

Sonya simply stood still as your verbal charade ended, arms crossed and one brow raised, questioning.

"Is that tone I am hearing, soldier?"

"Noooooo, but seriously, if I were Johnny, I wouldn't hesitate to jump your bones."

"Like those guys sending you bedroom eyes at the gym?" She retorted and a frown settled on your determined face before it morphed into disgust. You said it before, you didn't appreciate any other eyes on you than Raiden's.

"Ew, no, I pass."

"Thought so, not when you have caught yourself a god."

...

...

...

Thoroughly shocked, with words caught in your throat, you made an incomprehensible indignant sound to fill the space with your confusion. A furious blush has taken over your face while you sputtered questions along the lines of 'How', 'Why' and 'When'.

Sonya, with a soft quirk of lips, supplied, "You didn't think I wouldn't notice my best friend suddenly disappearing with the Thunder God in the middle of the dancefloor?"

"Uhm, yes?" You reply, trying not to act too guilty about being caught red-handed by your best friend, who should have been the first to know.

"You are right, I didn't make the connection at first. Johnny told me."

Now you were sheepish and embarrassed in equal measure. How did a harmless conversation turn this uncomfortable? Well, someone outing your secret and then being confronted about it wasn't going to be pleasant for anyone, but alas, you were at fault for not sharing.

You only hoped your bestie would understand why you had kept it from her.

Disapproving, you shook your head, muttering a 'Fucking snitch!' under your breath. Sonya couldn't help but laugh at what you said. You looked into her eyes and then let them drop.

"I am sorry for not telling you. You must angry at me."

Gowns and events forgotten, Sonya put a comforting hand on your shoulder, "You don't have to be and anyways, would I have asked for your help if I were truly mad at you?"

Most likely not, you nodded knowingly at her, beyond thankful that your little secret hadn't created a rift in your friendship.

"Does he make you happy?"

There wasn't any need to answer as the gratifying smile that broke out on your lips showed your friend the true extent of happiness your boyfriend - Sonya never thought she would come to associate the stoic Thunder God with that word - caused by simply being your significant other.

"Anyways, let's wrap things up here so we can grab a cuppa, don't you say?"

Glad to shrug off the tension, the idea of a hot cup of sweet tea sounded appealing, "Sounds good to me."

And after a quick visit to the cashier, Sonya's purse felt lighter than before as the two of you enjoyed your warm beverages with a dose of light-hearted small talk. Although you could tell that your best friend became curious pertaining to the details of your romantic liaison with Raiden.

I mean, who wouldn't be?

The air felt light around you two, having achieved all that you came to the shopping centre for. The day seemed to be concluded, you figured as Sonya finished her coffee, and you would soon part ways amicably.

That was how you thought it would play out.

Sonya had other ideas. Terrible ideas. Why in the Elder Gods were you going into a fancy lingerie shop?

Let me rephrase that.

WHY THE HELL ARE WE LOOKING OVER SEXY UNDERWEAR?!

"Umm, Sonya?" You waited for her gaze to settle on you, "What are we doing here?"

"Spicing things up for you."

Confused, you asked, "Why?"

"For the bedroom."

Offended, you asked again with a slight shrill in your tone, "WHY?"

"Dunno. We can't call it a shopping trip if only I get to buy something. We have to get you something too!"

"But why lingerie?!" You hissed through gritted teeth.

"Because you need it!"

"Do not!"

"You do!"

"DO NOT!"

"Oh for Christ's sake [Y/N], you're running around in sports bras long enough! Just imagine the face Raiden will make once he sees you in one of those. You will have him salivating like a dog."

This wasn't how you imagined him to react at all, he wasn't some prude after all. But the intensity with which he would look upon you, you could picture in your mind. With relative ease, you could see the last tethers of his self-control snapping within seconds before he would strike and ravage your alluring body to new heights.

The thought made you impossibly aroused, and say what it may about you, that was all it took for you to follow through with Sonya's idea.

So this was how you ultimately ended up posing in front of your bathroom mirror a few hours later, in nothing but your freshly bought underwear; a matching chemise discarded on the toilet lid. After one last contemplating glance at your reflection, you splashed your face with water for refreshment and jumped into bed.

Though with no intention to sleep as you waited for the return of your Thunder God.

Raiden came to you sooner than you expected, and you nervously adjusted your position to look as seductive as possible. You know, like those playboy models that some boys in your high school seemed to hinge on during the breaks.

But the fantasies and possible scenarios kept you wanting and desperate. More than you ever have been.

Your heart picked up as you heard the bedroom door open, rusty hinges squeaking with the movement (you'd have to oil them soon). The darkness of the room hid your nervous silhouette. A short silence followed that had your body itching in anticipation and impatience, close to being unbearable when a rustle of cloth permeated the room's silence.

Raiden was taking his clothes off, you could tell, and none the sooner you felt your mattress dip with his weight. Any time soon, he would notice and confront you about it, only...

He did nothing. Simply continued to lie on his side of the bed. Feeling lost, your mind ran on overtime as you drummed over other solutions to your small problem. Perhaps you weren't as straightforward with your intent as you imagined.

In an attempt to catch his attention without blowing your cover, you shuffled closer with some made-up noises. Once you were skin-to-skin, enough to invite him to touch you and discover his surprise, now you were positively thrumming energy.

Yet it still amounted to nothing, no reaction at all, and even your sexual drive slowly receded with the lack of interest. It left you disappointed in him and most importantly, yourself, as you couldn't have failed more spectacularly than this.

With that in mind, you disregarded any possible option of continuing and prepared yourself for a frustrated attempt at falling asleep. In the end, you did somehow end up falling asleep but you don't even remember how long it took you as you found yourself slowly awakening within the next moment.

Not to the morning light shining through the gasp of your drapes.

Not to the hooting of cars in a faraway street.

Not even the barking of that Rottweiler your neighbours kept walking in the morning hours.

It was a tender sensation, not quite like a touch, but soft to be misjudged as one. A faint humming gave the atmosphere a warmth that made a smile blossom on your face. If only every morning with Raiden could be like this. Warm and sweet, like a fine tea to get rid of residual sleepiness.

Raiden had other ideas though, once his eyes drank the utterly sensual sight of you. The silky sheets pooled messily around as you rested on your side, away from him, with a pillow tucked underneath your head. You embodied the epitome of peace. It was, however, not the only thing he noticed in his visual venture.

He had never seen you in such revealing clothing before and he particularly liked the light blue chemise that looked, against the few rays of gold, like a holy veil. And your body an altar to be worshipped. In that case, he would gladly adhere to the role of a devoted believer.

However, your innocence certainly conjured the most sinful ideas in his imagination. Devoid of ill intent, but full of lust and desire. The images came to him easily, seamlessly transitioning and overlapping into a vision so pleasurable, he got hard in no time.

About how he could take you. How he could elicit in you the greatest heights of ecstasy. In different positions. Through different touches. Through...

At first, it had him taken back. Fantasizing was an entirely new thing for his virtuous self after all and for a second, he reprimanded himself. That he shouldn't be thinking of you with such depraved thoughts. Especially not while you were SLEEPING! But you had a way of sweeping away the very foundations his being stood on.

And this time was no different.

He decided, in a valiant effort to calm down, to listen to your periodic huffs of small breaths. His mind wouldn't pounce on that, surely. But it did, viciously, as he thought about how it sped up during your shared passion and he resisted the urge to grind his aching need into the sheets, or worse, you.

He would have no words for his actions if you woke up to him rutting against you like some sort of animal, not the dignified individual that he presumed himself to be.

How could he want you this strongly by only gazing at you? By this point, he was getting desperate for you. For your warmth. For the way you sometimes whispered his name lewdly into his ear, or screamed it when Raiden brought you to peak-

"Hmm... Raiden?" you called out sleepily, a lilt of confusion to your small voice that had him repressing his befuddled state even more. But a roaring fire once stoked, could hardly be put out by the wind. It only served to enhance the frenzied flame that churned inside of him.

He wanted to greet you into waking up to a new day, but he feared his voice would give him away, if his inappropriate actions haven't already.

The god's silence gave your time to sober up a bit. The sleep-induced grogginess gradually faded with the realization of space and time. It was morning, not too early but not yet noon as well. You felt rested, despite the disappointment from yesterday.

However, as you turned to catch a glance of Raiden, you realized something was wrong. He was frowning, like when he was in deep thought, but it looked as if he was particularly conflicted this time around.

It couldn't have been of the positive kind, as his body appeared tense, muscles tightened like a bowstring, "Honey, talk to me, what's wrong?"

His eyes flickered to yours hurriedly, as if he was deliberately concentrating on anything that wasn't you. That was when you saw just how much they had darkened, glazed over with unbridled desire, and the sight alone debauched you in ways only your Thunder God could.

Unlike other times though, you had no intentions of giving in easily this time. You'd act cross with him since he had, unknowingly mind you, denied you release yesterday. Sly wasn't a trait one would associate with you in any concept, but that was before Raiden became part of your life, and before you experienced the infuriating feeling of sexual frustration.

Teasingly, you ran a hand across his feverish skin, and as expected, it elicited a violent shudder from your lover, "Gods, Raiden, you are shivering! Should I get you something to warm up?"

At loss for words as he seemed, a simple 'no' made it out of his orifice. You yourself had no words to describe the empowerment you felt, but you would indulge in such depraved thoughts once you were done with your mission.

Feigning the notion of not knowing better, you continued with your charade of concern, "Should I fetch you another blanket or? Oh, tea! Right! I'll go and make you some oolong tea. That will surely warm you up!"

Just as you were about to let him be on his own, a sturdy arm came around your mind, momentarily robbing your breath due to its force as Raiden brought you to himself. Your instincts tingled with danger as you felt him exhale against the shell of your ear.

"I... I need you."

Gosh, you might as well have died right there, right now. You could swear his baritone had never dropped this low. Coupled with those sensuous syllables dripping from his mouth like fine silk, well, it left the empty walls of your channel to clench around nothing. He had you right back to where you were yesterday, and from this standpoint, it seemed that what you had in mind seemed far crueller than initially thought.

But you would not let him have his way quite yet, as sorely tempted as you were.

Like a cat that got the cream, you cooed with barely constrained amusement.

"Are you running a fever as well, my dear?"

A hand of yours, tingling with residual needles, swept across the smooth skin of his forehead to find it absolutely packed with heat (as if you weren't burning up from the inside out). You were curious to see how far you could push him with this. If you could manage to coax out his rougher - no, hmmm, how should you put his - primal? - side of him.

You simply wanted him to explore those intimate parts of himself that he had yet to discover.

"Nay, my love! I-"

Taking his hesitation into an advantage, you rushed out of his embrace to saunter off into the kitchen like a feline that got her way, with a pronounced sway to your hips, enticing him further. Fighting to keep the Cheshire grin off your face, the hungry gaze of his would have pulled you back to him like a string.

Once you have passed the door and out of sight, your palm moved to your heart almost immediately, overwhelmed and unbelievably shaky. You actually pulled that off! With your timid nature no less! Willpower next to none!

It was hugely out of character, ESPECIALLY for someone like you, who most jerks would call a good girl. Complaisant and obedient. But your actions spoke louder than words. Denying him once inspired some braver parts of you to poke the dragon doubtlessly hidden inside of him.

Whether you would come to regret it was up to the upcoming minutes.

Although seriously speaking, the god would have to approach with some unconventional tastes to truly scare you off. But you were confident that wasn't to be the case with him. You simply didn't peg him as an overly kinky guy.

Lost in your musing, the lurking giant behind you totally escaped your notice until you felt him against your diminutive frame, touch scorching as he, with all the time in the world, caressed your curves as one would touch something delicate.

And indeed, for him, that was the bottom line of words that were worthy enough of your person. Sometimes he wished to study more words to bequeath you with, for he feared that he had already exhausted every vocable there was, and it felt shortcoming. A shame it may be, the Thunder God preferred to be a man of actions than words, he felt most strongly compelled to do such when all coherency has fled his mind. Which, often not, happened the moment you injected him with desire.

A craving which, the longer your romantic relationship went on, became more defined and pronounced to a point where the god had fewer inhibitions in expressing yearnings that his responsibility to Earthrealm prevented from being realized before.

With the shackles that he so willingly imposed on himself, there was no remedy from their weight before you entered the picture. In truth, he hadn't been all that aware of it. How much depended on him. In the midst of all of that, the importance of free time never crossed his mind.

There wasn't really much to him as a person other than his onus. On some days, he liked to entertain the idea that he might have been born BECAUSE of this purpose. Consider it his own little pep talk for the harder days.

He thought that was part of being a God.

But you showed him that was no at all there was to it.

Alas, were he of clear mind, he might have waxed poetry the likes of the greatest poets of human history. That privilege, however, Raiden would leave for another day when your pliable body wasn't giving him ideas that would make the devil blush.

And he had every intention of going through it... only with your consent.

"My love," he rumbled so deliciously into your ear, "my goddess, let me adore you."

You gulped as you felt his member prodding against your lace panties, hell might have felt cooler than your core. His words quickly chased any form of teasing you might have planned. The poor tea was discarded and forgotten in an instant.

Rationality was exchanged for the unbearable ache for him. A wildfire was sparked between the two of you and your arm reached behind you, to tangle your fingers into his uncombed hair, inching his head closer to the neck that you have craned in response to his desire. Following his lust, he wasted no time skimming his velvety lips against the exposed patch of skin; it smelled like vanilla (or so his nose tried to convince him) and it made him bury his nose into you with greater fervour.

The open-mouthed kisses meant to devour you had you lapping for breath, leaving you with a feeling of being drowned, and yet not. His passion was difficult to put into words, but you felt how it challenged you to match it, mirrored by the way you tightened your grip on his strands. He growled against you and a girlish yelp left you as he spun you around to effortlessly lift you onto the kitchen counter. A fleeting image of this one time when he had tried to make you something to eat flitted through your mind, how adorably sweet he had been caked in flour.

Now it had become a stage that resembled another porn video. Cooking, from this point on, would become rather interesting after the two of you were done.

Fuck, look at him! What a sight he makes!

Positively BURNING for you. Thrumming with sexual tension that was about to explode into something so mind-boggling that you almost couldn't contain your excitement. Gone were those days were such activities scared the hell out of you. It was so easy to give yourself over to him without a second thought. To fall into him, figuratively speaking.

His presence resonated a signal of security, inviting and welcoming anything and everything. You have never felt such with any other person of the other sex and it liberated you in your actions immensely. There was a tightening sensation in your chest, a sort of vigorous tingling with each touch of your lover, so positively possessed to be part of your very being by the way he latched himself to you.

You never needed anyone so much as him at this moment, and it didn't terrify you to act on your desire.

"Damn, t-touch me, Raiden. I need to feel you."

You never heard yourself beg for something this desperately, and blushed at how it sounded to your own ears. You would have cared, but the god's hands were already working on unwrapping you from the set of lingerie you had bought yesterday specifically for him. Sonya's idea appeared so brilliant to you now, that some part of you regretted fighting against it in the first place.

The god's mind was bereft of words as he took a moment to gaze at your form, gloriously naked and within range for him to revere. Focused on fulfilling his word of practising worship upon your body. He made you the centre of his universe, and his intentions were clear when he spread your legs - when did he take off your panties? - and got on his knees, levelling his head with your dripping folds. His eyes could have burnt another hole in you by their vehemence and most surprisingly, there was no urge for you to close your legs out of shyness.

You felt POWERFUL, to have a literal god on his knees for you. Despite his masculinity that screamed dominance in this instance, you felt like the one who held the reins, so you arched your back a little and further opened those hips for him. A look flashed between the two of you as you offered your most intimate parts to the Thunder God. There would have to be found a new word to describe the level of wetness you achieved when he lowered his face to your crotch.

You couldn't help but hyperfocus on his lips, and he couldn't look away from your petals, surrounded by a soft patch of hair. There was a bit of a warm, coiled tension, your muscles started to tense up in anticipation, expressed in the way you let out a shuddering moan once his lips made first contact.

"Oh my God, Raiden."

You were thankful that although you were both heavily drunk on longing, he didn't dip his feet too deep into the uncharted waters, and paused at times you needed him to. He began with kisses and licks that did a wonderful job of letting you adjust while also prepping you for the next steps. You prayed he would discover that he could use his tongue on his own because you mistrusted your ability to create any semblance of a sentence-

Oh! He did!

And it told you exactly what you've been missing out on. The sensation of an active, slippery tongue was foreign to your groin. It felt gratifying in the most unexpected ways, soothing an annoying itch you had since you felt his rod pushing against your rump. It was a different kind of penetration, not as invasive or linear. By the time you grew fairly accustomed to this squishy feeling, waves overlapping waves started building somewhere in your belly, the heat impacted you as much as his member would, but what really stood apart was the phenomenal texture and the way it inquisitively searched out every untouched nook and cranny of your channel. It was a good thing you showered before going to sleep.

The god in return, fuelled by basic instincts and youthful energy, intrinsically concentrated on his strenuous efforts as much as he tried to catalogue the new territory he had read about while doing research. The outer labia were plump and soft. He noticed as you become more and more aroused, the inner labia became engorged, wet, warm, and smooth to the tongue and lips.

They felt incredibly soft and squishy as the god alternated between kissing and licking, and he couldn't help but gently suck on them occasionally as well - you responded stronger to that. The pubic hair pleasantly rubbed on his cheeks, enriched by the rapturous smell he had yet to decipher. The vaginal opening had smooth, rounded edges that Raiden could feel with his tongue once he slipped it inside you as deep as it can reach. In and out, faster then slower, he could feel the slippery vaginal walls firmly around his muscle, beginning to constrict.

It happened instinctively, that you arched your back in response to a particularly precise stroke of his tongue, that you almost slipped off the kitchen counter weren't it for Raiden hefting his strong arms around your twitching thighs. Scrambling for purchase, which you found in his hair, sounds of delight freely flowed through your gaping mouth as he ate you out like a man starved. He also occasionally responded with a grunt or muffled groan that vibrated oh-so-deliciously against your sensitive skin.

Drunk on your pleasure, enraptured by your musky scent and most of all, ravenous for your marvellous taste. He gulped the cocktail of hormones, this nectar of life as if it were his sole purpose. Completely oblivious to his own mounting pressure on his purposefully neglected member. It was as he had exclaimed many times before - your pleasure was his pleasure.

The unabated truth came, you were close. Very, very close to finishing. Breath laboured despite not doing anything than grinding wantonly against his face, you miraculously chanced a glance at your lover and found him staring right back... and that had done it for you. His head between your legs, eyes deliberately keeping eye-control on your unravelled form would sear its way into your memory.

His name echoed in your ears even after you tried to collect yourself. Recovery was a slow process. A pleasant haze dizzied your vision as your breath eventually evened out. Any perception of time eluded you, but the buzz in your bones did not. Boneless, would describe it better.

"Raiden, honey," you started after regaining some sense, "that was absolutely amazing!"

When he didn't answer you, concern made its treacherous return to your mind. Had something happened during your climax?

Pushing your hunched upper body forward, you narrowed your eyes enough to analyze the state he was in, and within seconds you came to the sudden realization that it wasn't only you who had achieved completion.

You had come together.

Raiden servicing you was enough for him to get off with you. Would you possess an ego, it would have been on the roof by now. But being frugal suited you better, and you savoured the sight of his handsome face, from the nose down, soaked with a combination of your release and his own saliva while stroking his shambolic long hair.

That was one heck of a morning.

#raiden x reader #mk raiden #dark raiden #lord raiden #raiden mortal kombat #mortal kombat #netherrealm studios #explict #smut and fluff #oneshot #comfort #hard on #service #arousal

[gorkloum]

I was talking to my mother about fanfiction and I feel a little uncomfortable. The conversation started with Harry Styles as an artist, and then I told her about a fanfiction that a fan of his wrote she uploaded to Wattpad and then published as a (shitty) book. "After" if you have heard. She's like: "didn't the singer take legal action?" "no, since they changed his name in the story," I replied. "So fanfictions are situations you make up in your head with various singers?" she asked. "not necessarily. You can take ideas from a movie or series you liked and make your own story" "that must be a huge understatement for someone. They could be told: “Don't you have any ideas of your own?” Is it really necessary to write something someone else has wrote?” and something like that" Little did she know her own child writes and even uploads these stories online 😅Really, I feel kind of embarrassed, although we didn't talk about me. Lol I'm sure you don't care...

I care 😈

Sorry, I never hear neither about "After", nor about Harry Styles himself. But I will try to write some kind of supportive message. 

No wonder that words of your mother become something like personal judging from the closest person for you, don't blame yourself (if you do this). It's not strange, since the mother figure is very important for every human being.

But our parents, especially who does not write or doesn't have similar creative hobby, may have very simplistic view on it, full of stereotypes. For example, one of mine oldest relatives was sure that The Artist(tm) must draw strictly from imagination without any references or similar stuff. Sometimes, even if they have experienced more with your hobby, they can say things which is not correlate with your opinion. And that's okay!

Creating art inspired by something else is not wrong, I mean, you can go to any art museum and try to count every artist who did not create anything based on the Bible, or open the list of masterpieces of world literature and try to find anything without the ideas from the world and surroundings of the writer or their contemporaries. The border between "own" and "another's" sometimes is extremely thin. Can the idea being called "own" if an artist illustrated an event which was in their life? Ugh, this is another topic 😪

Just remember Dante Alighieri and "Divine Comedy" (poor guy, probably he is remembered every day on this site), create things and follow your heart (within the laws of your country hehehe) ❤️ May the fact of a keyboard/a pen with notebook within your grasp become someone else's problem 😈 

#thank you for your question!

[maybankiara]

PHONE SWAP (DREW STARKEY)

23: A CASE OF THE BUTTERFLIES

summary: Addie Mallory is just your average economics student when she meets Drew Starkey at her local Target in Atlanta. This is where the story is supposed to end – a short meeting and a picture to go – except Drew accidentally leaves with the wrong phone, and the story begins, instead. w/c: 2.6k a/n: marianne has an update regarding her time with tom's family, one which makes addie reflect on her own relationship. read on wattpad previous part | series masterlist

‘I swear to god, if you decline ANOTHER call, I will—’

‘Hi, Marianne, my best friend, I’ve missed you lots too. Penny for your thoughts?’

‘You ignored seven of my calls.’

‘I was out with the family and I wanted to take a bit of a break from my phone. You know, breaking bad habits and all.’

‘Now you're stealing my lines, too?’

‘No, feel free to keep that one, actually. … What’s up? Everything good?’

‘Don’t sound so concerned. … Sorry, I didn't mean that sarcastically and it came out— Anyway, I’ve been here for nearly a week now and I’m starting to think it actually was the right decision.’

‘I thought we already figured that one out?’

‘Yeah, but... It’s THE right decision. It’s what Tom and I needed. You know, a bit of family stress, a bit of new stuff, all of that. I think it brought out what we care about the most.’

‘Oh, that’s great! Seriously. What happened?’

‘I don't even know, that’s the weirdest thing! It wasn’t like a big deal or anything. Wait, I feel a bit weird talking like this, and I know you're having a lovely time with your family as well and I want to hear all about it but I’m currently realising that the past few months of struggling with my relationship are over and I’m a little bit over the mo—’

‘Breathe, Marianne. We’ve got all the time in the world.’

‘Right. Make sure you’re decent, because we’re switching to FaceTime.’

  The screen flickers and Addie sees herself staring back, with a little notification popping up waiting to be confirmed. Addie hesitates for a brief moment – she sees herself, in her childhood bedroom, one that’s hardly changed since she was seventeen. There’s still popsters of indie rock bands she used to like plastered on the wall behind her, and the single bed still covered in the same heart-patterned covers she’s had since she upgraded from a kid bed to a proper-sized one. Sun is peeking through the window over her desk, reflecting off the thin sheet of snow covering the grass outside. So many memories and forgotten days are written on the walls Addie can no longer read. 

  ‘You waiting till I die and get buried, or what?’

  Addie presses the confirm button, apologising for keeping her waiting. 

  Marianne, as is customary, looks nothing short of cute – with her ginger hair in two little loose braids (‘I look like Heidi when I wear my hair like this,’ Marianne once said, and just about flipped upon learning Addie had never heard of the girl let alone the book) and one of those smiles that makes her dimples pop and her eyes shine.

  ‘Christ,’ says Addie, ‘you really are happy.’

  Lounging on what seems to be a couch in the middle of a rustic living room, Marianne squeals, then immediately covers her face with the hand not holding the phone. ‘I feel like I’m being judged right now.’

  ‘Maybe a little bit.’

  ‘I know you’ll think I’m exaggerating—’

‘Let me make my own opinion before you put words into my mouth.’

  Marianne peeks between her fingers. ‘Wow. That was very harsh.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m tired,’ Addie admits with a sigh. ‘I’ve had some Zoom calls with people from work that fucked me right off. I’m listening, I promise, and I’m not going to treat you like you’re Raiden on an annoying day.’

  ‘Great. Don’t care enough for that reference. Tom and I have been having a great time, and Addie, honestly, I feel—I feel—girly.’

  Addie laughs. ‘There’s nothing wrong with feeling girly. I love it.’

  ‘Yeah, but I’m not talking, like—I’m not talking about feeling cute in a dress, or whatever. I’m talking about that bubbly feeling that makes you feel like you’re floating, and everything is funny and joyful, and you just want to hold onto your person every moment you can, and just want to wear cute little things and I don’t know, pick flowers or something.’

  Addie feigns a gasp. ‘Dear Lord, I think you may have caught it…’

  ‘Caught what?’

  ‘The worst illness of all… the honeymoon stage.’

  There’s a groan from the other end of the phone, then a chuckle, and Marianne makes herself a little more comfortable on the couch. ‘That happens in the early stages. That’s what you and Holden are in.’

  ‘Nope. Doesn’t work like that. It can happen whenever, and Holden and I haven’t been in it yet.’

  ‘Hm.’ Marianne squints at the camera. ‘Maybe you’re right. God, have I really caught a case of the butterflies?’

  ‘Let me be the judge of it and tell me what happened.’

  And so Marianne does. 

  It’s a short story made long, and the gist of it, that Addie later shares with her family, is this: they fought on the way there, as was to be expected—Marianne’s words—until the very moment they stood on the porch of the house he grew up in. One of them, and Marianne is no longer sure who, suggested they start a truce. Instead of arguing, they write down the issue and discuss it in private, or before going to bed, and they’re on their best behaviour every other given moment. 

  This was precisely where Marianne went on a big tangent about how it made them realise that so many things they normally would’ve argued about were meaningless at the literal end of the day – how putting things aside allowed them to enjoy the moment more, and not worry. It was written down and it was out of their mind, and it nearly always turned out to be not worth bringing up when they would have.

  It also happens that Tom’s parents are exceptionally lovely, seating her down at the couch within minutes to show her all the photos of baby Tom, all with a special kind of delight reserved for Marianne and Marianne alone. It helped her understand Tom and how he shows love a little more. Seeing him interact with his family made her aware of aspects of him she used to take for granted, and see places where she’d gone wrong, where miscommunication and misunderstandings happened. 

  ‘How did you manage to figure so much shit out?’ Addie asks. ‘It’s been a week.’

  Marianne shrugs. ‘I guess I’ve just been paying more attention.’

  As the story continues, they spent the weekend at his parents’ holiday lodge, some half-hour drive from the house. They didn’t argue once, but they spent the whole time enjoying each other’s company, in more ways than Addie would care to share with her family. Marianne then took the car and brought him to the Christmas Markets in a nearby town, ones that his parents had told her they used to go to when he was younger, and Marianne said she’d never seen someone love her as much as Tom did in that moment.

  Marianne sighs and Addie can see her reliving the moment, looking off into the distance with the tiniest of smiles in the corner of her mouth, slowly growing.

  ‘I don’t know how to explain it, Addie,’ she says, leaning her cheek against the side of the couch. ‘At the lodge, we talked about everything. It was so easy to talk. I don’t think it’s ever been that easy to be so honest, so open. It was like we finally realised what we have and just how much more we could have if we just tried a little bit more. That’s what Tom said, you know.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘That we could be great. That he sees me with his parents, at his home, and that it feels like the picture’s finally complete.’

  Addie doesn’t manage to stifle the laugh. ‘I’m sorry, Tom is such a sap.’

  ‘I know!’ Marianne giggles. ‘But I think I’m starting to enjoy it…’

  ‘Good. You’ll be stuck with it for a while, by the sounds of it.’

  The smile on Marianne’s face grows a little more, and she curls into her jumper. ‘Mon Dieu, I really feel giddy and all. It’s weird.’

  Addie’s chest warms, too. She can’t recall the last time she’d seen Marianne this happy and giddy, if ever—maybe when she and Tom started dating, for the first couple weeks—and it makes her think about all the moments her friend spent convinced things were going south. She sees Marianne splayed over the couch and thinks of her in the same position, with her cheek draped over her forearm as she moans about Tom seeking affection again, and about how maybe she’s just not the one for him, if she can’t ive him what he needs. 

  All of that—all those moments scattered throughout Addie and Marianne’s lives where uncertainty was the certain thing—all leading to this. 

  To Marianne, in England, waiting for Tom and his family to come home, gushing about the love she has for him. 

  ‘I feel like I’m going to start tearing up,’ Addie says.

  ‘Me, too!’

  ‘Be careful, you’re becoming a romantic.’

  Marianne shrugs. ‘Eh. Maybe that’s not so bad, after all.’

  ‘I feel like I need to call Tom and congratulate him. Or thank him. Something.’ Addie shakes her head, still a little in disbelief. SHe doesn’t think Marianne’s had a drop of alcohol, yet even Addie feels buzzed and overwhelmed with the news. ‘You know, Holden was convinced this was going to be a disaster.’

  ‘Psh. Holden. I love you, Addie, but that man wouldn’t understand romance if it stared him down in a dark alley.’

  ‘Interesting visual,’ Addie chuckles. ‘It’s not like that, though.’

  Marianne frowns at the camera. ‘When’s the last time you guys did something romantic?’

  ‘Depends on what you classify as romantic,’ Addie says, but she knows even before Marianne rolls her eyes – whatever she says, it will not be enough to appease her friend. ‘I thought having hot chocolate and getting work done, cosy under blankets, would be quite romantic.’

  There’s a sigh, and Addie knows she’s fighting a losing battle. Even if Marianne is a freshly-reformed romantic. 

  ‘Addison, mi amor. There’s a whole lot more to romance than working together. You deserve to be swept off your feet, you know.’

  If it was any other day, Addie would argue that she doesn’t need that. That quiet romance is enough and beyond what she needs right now. That the calmness of having Holden around, of having him help her around at work, be her partner in every sense, that it’s enough. That it’s exactly what she wants.

  But Addie sits in the room she grew up in, on the bed where she lay daydreaming about a romance straight out of the movies, and she thinks back to her hesitation to even touching Holden while they were at her flat – and maybe she’s right.

  Maybe Addie does want to be swept off her feet.

  ‘There we go,’ says Marianne, smiling again. ‘The wheels have begun to turn.’

  Addie turns around on her bed, gets up and sits on the chair at her desk instead, and stares at the snow that is beginning to fall again. The flakes are small and she imagines them to be soft, even if cold, and there’s an image of Drew in her head – of Drew, standing outside her apartment building with his arms stretched out, letting the snowflakes fall on his face. 

  Addie tears her gaze from the window and she’s looking at Marianne again, who is staring at her as if she’s analysing her. 

  ‘What,’ Addie says.

  Marianne squints her eyes and points her finger at the camera. ‘You had a little thing going on there.’

  ‘I was just thinking.’

  ‘About?’

  ‘Christmas,’ Addie lies. 

  ‘Fine, keep it to yourself.’ Marianne smiles, still. ‘Did you and Holden go to the Christmas markets?’

  Addie says they haven’t, they’ve just been too busy, and Marianne decides to drop the subject and start talking about her and Tom again – which is Addie’s preferred subject, too. Her thoughts stay with Holden, with Christmas, and she realises she can’t even picture the two of them having a glass of mulled wine, or holding hands while they attempt to skate on ice. It just doesn’t seem like something they’d ever do.

  Listening to Marianne tell her about her and Tom’s experience at the markets, the little trips they’re having, the tour she’d been given by both Tom and his parents of their little village… Addie feels a pang of jealousy. 

  Before Marianne gets to finish her story and get the duo up-to-date, Addie’s family begin poking through the door, one by one. Addie’s sister, Liyah, has been eavesdropping for a minute or two before coming in with a gushing comment of her own – she stays for nearly ten minutes before Addie manages to kick her out, despite Marianne’s protests, because she appears to love telling people how her whole view of romance has been flipped. Addie’s dad comes to let her know dinner will be ready soon, and ends up chatting to Marianne for a good few minutes before Donnie, the little brother, comes up with wisdom of his own. (‘You get cooties if you kiss so you should break up,’ before telling her about how he’s going to beat Addie in checkers.) Addie’s mum is the last person to come up, telling them all off for disrupting Addie, only to drop down on the bed the moment Marianne asks her if she’s interested in hearing a romance story.

  Addie ends up finding out more about her parents’ love story and early romance than she bargained for, that day.

  She likes it, though. She likes how comfortable Marianne is with her family, and how she can sit with her mum on her bed and talk about boys and relationships like she’s sixteen again. (Not that she was really allowed or interested in boys and relationships at sixteen. Education and work were the priorities in the Mallory household.)

  The more the conversation goes on, the more Addie can see the whole thing is not just another honeymoon phase. Especially from the way Marianne talks to Addie's mum – she knows what she’s doing, and she's aware of all the slip-ups she’s being warned of, and she keeps giving logical reasons why she’s doing what she is and why her thing with Tom is worth fighting for. 

  Marianne looks happier than she’s looked in a very long time. That’s all that matters. 

  She ends up telling Addie’s mum that they ‘figured out that the reasons why we want to stay together have always outweighed any fight we had.’

  Addie shifts the pillow underneath her cheek to see her friend better. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘There's a hundred reasons why we should call it quits,’ Marianne says. ‘But there’s a million more reasons why we should just try harder.’

  She lists the reasons, too, as if she were plucking them out of a hat, and Addie can tell she’s thought long and hard about this. She outlines all the good and all the bad, and in an effort to understand better, Addie starts looking for these things in her own relationship.

  Except, she finds herself standing on shaky ground when trying to find a reason to stay. The realisation is more of a ripple than a wave, but she can tell, even now, that unless she does something, it will inevitably lead to a tsunami.

◇

24: WHEREVER YOU GO NEXT

most people on the taglist have left/changed their urls, so lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters!

#outer banks #obx #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #f: obx #my fic #phone swap series

[olderthannetfic]

[This is for a person with whom I have quite a contrary opinion. And I want to get it off my chest]

You. Have. No. Idea. What. Fanfic. Is.

For you, quality literature has to have the qualities you demand of it. Yes, I agree that you need a minimum of quality in all areas, but a lot of fanfic is written by people who spend their time (for free) to give you a story with characters you already know and want to read in that context.

"But you shouldn't write about real people." You're missing the point of fanfic.

"But you shouldn't use non-LGBTQ+ people/characters for LGBTQ+ stories." You're missing the point of fanfic.

"Sex scenes with real people are disgusting". For you, but not for everyone.

"I hope one day the 14 year old girls who read this kind of fanfic will realise that writing about real people is wrong and move away from the dark and toxic side of fandom." Don't say what people can read or not.

"I hope you grow up and leave your fanfic era to read worthwhile literature." Honey, I can read fanfic and I can read books that were Nobel Prize winners, one thing doesn't take away from the other. Oh, again, you're missing the point of the fanfic.

So please, stop throwing all the bad stuff at fanfic writers and thinking you're mature for reading Stephen King (I guess he can talk about Beverly's boobs because it's not fanfic). And I hope you never leave Wattpad, because if you go on ao3, first you'll faint and then you'll cry about the "atrocities".

You're good at giving writing advice and encouraging new writers, but stop talking about a subject you don't understand and don't want to understand. If I vent here it's because I know that if I write it in your comment box, I'll be the hater and I don't want arguing with people.

[Sorry if I made a mistake. English isn't my first language and I'm really upset right now]

--

There's an interesting thing I read as a kid about language acquisition. It was specifically about vocabulary acquisition among native speakers. The researchers observed that parents, teachers, etc. thought kids should read "good" books that "challenged" them because this would improve vocabulary and comprehension...

But in fact, the thing that most improved reading skills was reading books that were just barely hard. They might have learned only one new word per crappy Nancy Drew, but they read thousands of them and learned thousands of words. The kids reading "good" literature that was much too hard for them learned much less.

Needless to say, I waved this in my mother's face and went back to reading Nancy Drew.

Mom absolutely suffered from Buy The Child Boring And Depressing Literature syndrome, like many intellectual adults. Also, she was terrible at judging a book from the cover blurb and was always buying things she thought would be fun pictures of some cultural moment that were actually about the horrors of war and teenagers fleeing their countries.

I find it hilarious that this person is a Stephen King fan. Nothing wrong with King! He's rightly beloved and famous. But in the minds of Real Literature snobs, he's also fun trash, not Serious Books For Serious People.

That's the danger of snobbery: there's always someone who can show you up.

The only way to win this game is to be completely secure in your own tastes to the point that you don't even care about defending them when people attack.

For me personally, fic made all the difference in my writing ability. I was surprised a few years ago to realize I'd turned into someone who could write the kinds of things I actually want to read. I never used to reread my own work, and I never used to be able to live up to my own standards. Lack of revision was part of it, but that wasn't most of it: I just wasn't very experienced and thus I wasn't very good.

After a decade of writing Yuletide fic and the occasional other thing as the mood struck me, I apparently gained enough experience while not paying attention to level up.

Those 14-year-olds dicking around with Jungkook readerfic or Taekook or Minecraft dumbass RPF or whatever has this person's panties in a twist will probably turn into good writers one day if they just keep writing.

It's a question of stamina as much as anything, and nothing kills stamina faster than elitism.

[silvermars]

9 people you'd like to get to know better

tagged by @thecryptkeeperskeeper ☺

last song i listened to: epiphany by taylor swift... yeah surprise surprise i'm a swiftie. my concert is tomorrow!!!! ahhh and i'm listening to a playlist of all the song options she has left for surprise songs sooooo yeah

currently watching: NOTHING,, but uh ig sabrina the teenage witch -- since it's the only show i can think of that i've been watching consistently lately -- i put it on every time i ate because while i was visiting family this summer we couldn't take dishes/food from outside the dining room area (which adjoined the living room) so i started watching sabrina cause it's entertaining but also the only thing i could think of that was appropriate while also not needing my full attention (side note: I ADORE the costuming in that show, it's truly phenomenal)

currently reading: i just sped read a very suspenseful regency romance book i borrowed from my library's overdrive yesterday (which was fucking awesome i will continue to borrow so so many romance books for Freeeeee lol) but NOW i'm trying to get into the second smythe-smith book by julia quinn which i own in paperback.... ahaha anyways don't judge me for my shallow taste i'm new to reading okay :))

current obsession: the eras tour. this is my whole fucking personality rn.... i don't know what i'm gonna do once my show is over after tomorrow. it's been a long time since i've been to a concert so this is super nerve-racking for me with my social anxiety and going alone and just wanting it to be ✨PERFECT✨ anyways

and since @thecryptkeeperskeeper added it, so will i... last movie i watched: culpa mia, twice. a like teen romance wattpad movie that was actually very entertaining once i could figure out how to turn the dubs off. it's less cringe when you're reading something instead of hearing it in a language you understand,, that is my only argument

i am a 13 year old girl in a 22 year old woman's body.

@whatshisfaceblogs, @mulderscully, @sspoike, @littlenastieswewhispered, @endlesslyunamusing, @womanaction, @messedupdoilies, @l0veisntbrains, @ennairea

#personal

[trashlama]

Do you like KNY? Do you like fanart?

Do you somewhat like/read fics on Wattpad and feel like there's not enough fanart for decent works you come across? Okay maybe not so much the last part but, you still might like what I got in store!

Here's some sketches from two of my favorite fics on Wattpad for KNY. Please don't judge me to hard for my choice in fic platform....

I'm weak! Ans occasionally lose wifi! A weeb has needs!

Anyways here you go~

If you're interested in either of these fics just follow the links below!

Annnnd if you're interested to see my little drawing book on Wattpad there's a link for that too!

#wattpad #pencil #fanart #quick sketch #rough sketch #messy sketch #yandere kny #kny #kny x y/n #kny x reader #kny x you #kny x oc #demon slayer yandere #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x y/n #i try ok #im a simp #i suck at drawing #derp face

[btwimkindagay]

About me

Thanks @littledreamling for the tag

Nickname: Usually Breezy! My first name is a place name, so some of my friends call me by other place names (but more commonly acquaintances who think they are funnier than they are 🙄)

Sign: Sagittarius sun, Taurus moon, Aquarius rising. I hope that doesn't give away all my secrets

Height: 5'7 or 170cm!

Last thing I googled: "Wilfred Owen Letter to Wife poem". It's actually called "The Letter"

Song stuck in my head: I don't have one at the moment which I'm grateful for because I have a headache which feels like someone is trying to lobotomise me through my left eye. (I've taken some painkillers so I'm just being dramatic until they kick in)

Followers: 138! Thanks to everyone for politely waiting out the Goncharov phase

Amount of sleep: I regularly get 9-10 hours of sleep because otherwise I feel so bad 😥 I am envious of people who need less because for me 8 hours and 4 hours feel the same 🤢

Dream job: probably also a professor, like Crow! I'd love to be able to do research on things I'm interested in (it's always gay nuns, but recently it's also polygyny within medieval Jewish communities), and chat with colleagues about theirs, and write articles, and make lots of powerpoint presentations (I love them because I can even script in my jokes), and see what the younger generation are interested in when it comes to history! However, as we have established I am a very tired person, so I'm not sure how well I would cope with the expectation of out of hours work.

Wearing: Blue silk pyjama bottoms decorated with little white vines and flowers, brown walking socks, and a long fluffy hooded! dressing gown which I would probably call maroon or burgundy. Don't judge me for this (or do, I deserve it).  For the more wattpad experience we can also say that I have thrown my long brown hair into a messy bun.

Books/movies that summarise me: I could ask my friends, or I could just insert a picture of the DSM-V here because that's what they'll all send me

Favourite song: I don't have favourite anythings to be honest, but my most played song this year (at a whopping 22 times) was Zitti e Buoni by Måneskin. Lyric-wise I'm still obsessed with Tongues & Teeth by The Crane Wives, specifically "I know that you mean so well, but I am not a vessel for your good intent".

Favourite instrument: I've played clarinet, recorder, guitar, and keyboard, none of which I had any talent for 😂

Aesthetic: I've been told so many things about how I dress so I'll try to keep it brief. I own an eclectic collection of dresses (probably 60+) and tend to favour colourful patterns for daily wear and single colour grecian-style drapes for formal events. I likewise own lot of colourful patterned tops (described by my friends as "pretty", "flattering", "interesting", and "like you took it from your mum's wardrobe" (she gave it to me)) which I wear with jeans. That said, I can most commonly be found in my "grandad" looks of a men's shirt open over a vest or buttoned to the bare minimum of decency, or one of my two favourite golf jumpers (one grey, one beige).

Favourite authors: I don't have favourite authors of books (though I definitely do for fanfiction), but I do want to read more Margaret Atwood because I've only read The Handmaid's Tale and that one quote from The Robber Bride that lives rent free in my head.

Random fun fact: I managed to get super glue in my mouth when I was decorating a christmas bauble with watch parts last night! Very on brand, I'm notoriously clumsy. I also only managed to super glue two of my fingers together, so that is a new record

Tagging @bidet-and-legolas @a-liittle-bit-of-both and anyone who fancies it!

#about me #tag game