#king air 90 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bogleech · 8 months

Text

TOP TEN DINOSAURUSES

maybe you're wondering my most tenned favorite dinosauruses??? The science study of dinasacacers is called "dinosaurusology" by leading experts like myself, and it is constantly changing as we make new uncoveries almost every tuesday when we find new bones in my cousin rob's garage (he hasn't thrown anything out since the 90's!) As such bear in mind that up to two facts I am about to share could become dated over the course of the next century, however as both the king and queen of science this will only be true if I'm still available to approve the new facts. If I'm dead or kind of tired then nobody will ever know what's true anymore so you should be nice to me. #10: OVIRAPTOR

OVIRAPTOR was a good model for what all dinosacans were like: it was a wrinkly lizard that slithered in filthy dirt and had difficulty standing upright because its bones were made of rocks. This is why we have the term "the stone age," so be grateful you're living in "the bone age!" Oviraptor's name means "eggs velociraptor" because it was a kind of velociraptor that stole eggs. It didn't know what to do with them because nobody invented cooking yet and raw dinosaur eggs were disgusting, so every oviraptor starved to death.

#9: IGUANADON

This was the last known photograph of IGUANA DON (not to be confused with his cousin iguana dan) when george washington invented photographs 2 million years ago. Don was an ugly disgusting hilarious lizard monster with one horn on its nose and he died because he evolved a dining room in his torso exactly the right size for 21 cavemen to walk in and eat his kidneys. This was not helped by don's instinct to sleep on a big porch under a chandelier.

#9 DIMETRODON

DIMETRODON was the most common dinosaur of jurassic, which was the fifth and final era of dinosaurs after the ice age but before the ediacaran. In fact dimetrodon was the very last dinosaur to ever exist on earth before they were all eaten to death by the ediacaran's dominant predator: a species of swirly looking weird rock. Nobody knows why these swirly looking weird rocks died out, but it's most likely because dimetrodon was so poisonous from its diet of entirely pufferfish. You can tell it was a sea dinosaur because of its fish fin! #8: PTERADACTYL

PTERODACTYL was a regular dinosaur until it got married to a species of bat and its bat wife laid a bunch of pterodactyl eggs! This woodcut is however inaccurate: flying would not be invented until president obama discovered the first airplane in 1998, so pterodactyl couldn't possibly have stayed in the air and just immediately fell. The long 900 million year reign of the pterodactyl abruptly ended when the last one finally hit the ground (it took longer in those days because the oxygen disaster made so much more air) #7 SNORKASAURUS

SNORKASAURUS was completely unique among all dinocaurs by having a really long neck. It was one of the largest creatures to ever roam the earth at over 7 feet tall, or exactly 12 meters to those of you living in Liberia or Myanmar! This is the last known photograph of snorkasaurus, giving birth to the first cavemen. Snorkasaurus went extinct because all of them did this instead of making baby snorkasauruses. This is because like all dinosaurii they had only a tiny peanut for a brain, and nobody was around to give them 'the talk' because that wasn't invented yet.

#6 SMILODON

SMILODON was a very special dinosaurn because it was the first one to stand up on its hind legs after years of rigorous exercise and weight training. By inventing this new way of walking, Smilodon made it possible for the first monkeys to evolve! This is called "convergent" evolution.

#5 BULBASAUR

BULBASAUR was a majestic and beautiful species of neopet unfortunately disliked by the scientific community because it is the reason there are no flying dinosuars. Bulbasaur was the first ever flying dyanasar ever invented, 19 billion years ago on September 10, 2001, but the project was discontinued when its first test flight ended in a tragic accident. That's right: on September 11, 2001, Bulbasaur crashed into the stock market, causing the great depression that lead to the civil war :'( now to this very day, flying dinosarers are against the law.

#4 YOSHI

YOSHI is a type of dinersaulophus called a "bird," which was actually the second attempt by early neanderthal alchemists to manufacture a street legal flying dinnersauran, but the New Zealand government realized if dinophlofbuses can fly, then bats would no longer be special, and since bats are New Zealand's only major export it would have been an economic disaster. The queen of Australia (New Zealand's largest city) ordered the CIA to sand all of the wings off of these early prototype birds. Every bird tragically went extinct when it looked down, noticed how high up it was and remembered it could not fly, activating the effects of Earth's gravitational field.

#3 ANOMALOCARIS

ANOMALOCARIS was the dinosorcerous that discovered the first primitive cave painting of a modern day crab and invented carcinisation. All the other dinanders laughed at Anomalocaris for wanting to turn into a crab, but guess what??? Every single kind of dinosaur is dead but there's a crab still alive at 29, making it the oldest person in the world. Who's FUCKING laughing now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#2 EARL SINCLAIR

This is the last known photograph of Earl Sinclair, seen here as an uncredited extra in "Avatar 3: Lost in New York." Earl Sinclair was a sindonaur species that could disguise itself as a human by putting on sunglasses, a necessary adaptation in order to hide from the largest predator dancasore to ever live: Mellisuga helenae. However, near the end of the coal age, M. Helenae finally remembered that sunglasses hadn't even been invented yet. Look carefully, and you'll notice nobody is wearing sunglasses at all in this scene, making Earl Sinclair stick out like a sore thumb! If you're still having difficulty, here's a zoomed in image of this majestic thunder lizard:

Unfortunately......this wardrobe malfunction made Mr. Sinclair just as obvious to his ancient enemy, and the last Earl Sinclair's brains were sucked out on September 11, 2001, the darkest day in British history because he was the only one who knew the recipe to chicken mcnuggets (the only british food.) To this day all british people are extinct but you can still see their fossilized skeletons waiting in line at the department of motor vehicles.

#1 CONCAVENATOR

Concavenator was an Early Cretaceous carcharodontosaurid up to six meters in length with an unusual pointed crest on its back.

#science #dinosaurs #paleobiology #paleoart #nature #animals #lizards #reptiles #birds #ADAD don't get mad at me I actually hope if you ever see this you just find it cute and enjoy the convoluted references I put in

3K notes · View notes

that-irrelevant-ricecakeaddict · 4 months

Text

Ruffled sheets, fresh morning air, and him ♡

Idol!Seonghwa x f!reader

Cw:fluff hehehhahshs fluff my brain hurts thinking abt this more fluff

Your eyes flickered open, immediately squinting away from the sunlight coming in from the ajar window. Glancing sleepily at the calendar on your bedside table, you realised today was marked one of Seonghwa's rare free days. Normally, his schedule would be filled completely with photoshoots, meetings and dance practice. But today's schedule was a blank canvas. A blank canvas that was up to you and him to fill up together.

Excitedly turning over, you expected to see Seonghwa still asleep in the shared king-sized bed. Instead, you were met with his big boba eyes staring back at you. His brown hair was tousled against the pillow, stray strands from his fringe looking like parted curtains over his eyes. His eyebrows crinkled together happily when you made eye contact. You blinked again, thinking you were seeing things.

"Hey... how long've you been awake?"

The white quilt pressed over the bottom half of Seonghwa's face muffled his response.

"Mmm about an hour."

"What'd you do in that hour?"

"I was admiring how pretty you look."

A blush formed on your cheeks as you groaned and rolled over, burying your face into the pillows as Seonghwa giggled deviously behind you. "So early in the morning and already flustered, darling?" He hummed, hands moving to gently face you back towards himself. You let him flip you over, but kept your hands pressed against your face. Seonghwa feigned a weary sigh when he saw how tightly your fingers were pressed together.

"Don't hide yourself, sweetheart. I wanna see you."

You slowly let your hands slip away from your face, and Seonghwa squinted, pillows under his eyes indicating that he was smiling under the quilt.

"You're one to talk... First thing I see in the morning is you, who's apparently 10% flirty boyfriend and 90% blanket sheets."

Hearing this, Seonghwa tugged the quilt aside and immediately leaned down to connect his lips with yours. He smiled against your mouth when he felt you kiss back with equal passion. When your lips eventually parted, he ran a thumb along the corner of your pout. So perfect for him.

"I'm sorry, my love. Is that better?"

"Very much so."

How I felt writing this while knowing that the chances of a man being so loving irl are close to non-existent nowadays

#park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa ateez #park seonghwa #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x yn #ateez fluff #seonghwa fluff

289 notes · View notes

lokis-army-77 · 8 months

Text

Live from Hawkins: Round Two

Older!Eddie Munson x female reader x Older!Steve Harrington

Word Count: 3.6k

What was steve doing when you and his friend were acidently fimling yourselves and why does he want to join in?

Warning: 18+. Eddie and Steve are in their late 50s to early 60s, reader is 20s to early 30s. p in v, oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, sir kink, pet names, fingering, double penatration, masturbation, exobitonism?, voryerism?.

Masterlist Part 1

It's almost ten p.m. when Steve's phone buzzes and a notification lights up the screen. He grabs it off the bedside table and places his book down on the bed beside him.

The small notification box read:

EDDIE MUNSON IS LIVE

Steve clicked on the screen puzzled. What the hell is he doing at this time of night? Steve asked himself as he typed in his phone's password. It only took a second for the live stream to load and what Steve saw had his face blooming with heat.

Eddie was lying across his king-size bed, head buried between the legs of some young, sweet-sounding thing. Steve stared she couldn't have been older than twenty-two.

He couldn't keep his eyes off them as they panted and groaned. The show they were unknowingly giving had Steve's cock straining in his pajama pants.

A small speck of guilt hit him when he cupped himself. He should call Eddie, tell him to turn the live off. It wasn’t just him watching this, the viewers piled in, hitting somewhere in the thousands.

Eddie wasn't just some unknown guy, he had once been part of a successful band in the 90s and now a producer in the rock scene. People knew him and this would be front-page news by the morning. Yet Steve pushed down that guilt and slipped his hand past the elastic waistband of his pants.

Your moans coming through the speaker of his phone egged him on as he fisted his cock. He let out a sputtered breath, slowly moving his thumb over the head, smearing the bead of pre cum around. Never had his best friend turned him on this much. Not even when they had their little experimental phase before Eddie had gotten married or those one-off nights several years after Eddie's wife had died.

No, never had Eddie gotten Steve all torn up. But add you to the mix and Steve was just about ready to cum and he had barely begun to touch himself.

Steve continued to watch, eyes half-lidded and full of lust. His fingers stroked up and down, up and down, pulling sinful sounds out of him. The way your body moved in response to Eddie had Steve fumbling.

"Fuck, baby, feels so good." He mumbled to himself, his hips kicking up in his grip. He was so close.

His vision became tunneled as he continued to fuck his hand. Hard and fast were his strokes. His focus was shot, he no longer watched his phone, and the obscene noises coming from it also faded into the background. Steve had a one-track mind now and it was all for his own pleasure.

His other hand dropped the phone and came to cup his balls. He let out a choked gasp at the feeling of both his hands.

"Fuck fuck fuck, I'm gonna... ahh fuck!" Steve was at his limit. Cock hard and balls straining he cried out into the open air of his home. His release sprung forth, coating his chest in sticky spend. It dribbled out of him and pooled on his abdomen.

Steve's breathing was staggered, shallow, and fast and he worked himself to overstimulation. He jerked against his sheets and then finally let go of his cock, heaving.

He made a face when he looked down to see the mess he had made of his stomach. Carefully he reached over to his bedside table and grabbed the box of Kleenex. Taking a handful he wiped himself down and threw the soiled squares to the side, a mess for him to clean up tomorrow.

With his eyes closed he listened to his heartbeat thumping in his ears. He was calming down. And in an instant the post-nut clarity rushed in and Steve scrambled for his phone. You were both finished, lying, spent, on Eddie's bed. So Steve exited the live and called his friend.

The first call was answered by voicemail but the second went through.

Eddie huffed into the receiver at the interruption and Steve informed him, not-so-nicely of what was happening.

…

Days passed and Steve couldn't get the thought of you or Eddie out of his head. He'd tried everything from cold showers when the thoughts hit, to thinking of the most non-boner inducing things he could conjure up in his head. But his mind was wicked and he needed the both of you.

He was so thankful when the next Friday rolled around and he met Eddie for lunch. Eddie couldn't stop gushing about you. How he was so glad you could find the humor in his accidental livestream, and thank God your face hadn't been shown clearly in the dim light of the room. He even expressed that you had agreed to see "an old man like himself" again that coming Saturday.

It was then that Steve knew he would do everything in his power to get in on a night with you and Eddie.

After your Saturday dinner with Eddie the next day Steve showed up at his house. Eddie recounted the hell of a time he had with you. How you'd beg for him and ask so politely for things he wasn't even sure his old bones could do anymore. How he loved the chance to be dominant in the bedroom again. You were a vixen, a succubus and he was completely enthralled.

Then, Steve asked, "Do you think she'd like a third?"

Eddie had stopped in his tracks, mouth open wide before a devious smile fixed itself onto his face.

"Oh, Stevie boy, are you asking what I think you are?"

Steve couldn't help the fierce blush that came to his cheeks. "I-I- uh…" He stuttered. Eddie just smiled and hit Steve's knee with the back of his hand.

"I'm teasing, you always get so flustered." He laughed. "But sure, I'll ask her."

…

When Eddie had broached the subject of inviting his friend Steve into the bedroom, you were hesitant, but then Eddie showed you pictures of the man. He was stunning, hair cut short and graying just like Eddie's. A short beard and tan freckled skin. He looked fit, his arms bulged under the sleeves of his button-up shirt, thighs much the same in those black slacks.

You licked your lips and pressed your legs together. Looking at Eddie wide-eyed you nodded.

“What’s that baby? Need you to say it,” He tutted, swiping a piece of hair behind your ear, fingers grazing your cheek.

“Want your friend to join us, please."

And just like that, Steve's fantasy was coming true.

…

Steve was freshly home from work, exhausted, and in need of a large black coffee even though it was closing in on 6:30 at night. He had just started to unbutton the light blue button-up when his phone rang. Taking it from his pocket, he answered with a swipe of his thumb.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Steve, It’s me.” Eddie’s gruff voice filtered in through the speaker.

“Oh, hey man. What’s up?” Steve held the phone between his shoulder and ear, fingers starting on the buttons again.

“I know it’s short notice but do you want to come over?”

Steve sighed and looked at his alarm clock. “Uh, I don’t know Eds, it's almost seven.”

There was some shuffling on the other end and a muffled reply from Eddie, only it wasn’t to him, it was to you. “Well, did ya hear that, Sweetheart? Old man Steve can’t come tonight.”

Steve’s heart skipped. “Woah woah woah woah. Hold on a second… She’s there?”

“Yep, Stevie boy, she's here all right, watin’ on you. Isn’t that right, Sugar?”

He hears more shuffling and then a soft, sultry voice. “Yeah, Steve, need you here.” You giggled as Eddie pulled the phone away from you.

“Hurry up and get over here, front door’s unlocked.” And with that, Eddie hung up.

Steve cranked himself into high gear, unbuttoning his shirt and grabbing his keys from the dresser. No less than five traffic violations were committed as he sped to Eddie’s with one thing on his mind. You.

When Steve arrived at Eddie’s, you could hear him rushing into the house and quickly making his way to the bedroom where you were already undressed and lounging on the king-sized bed. As soon as the phone call had ended, Eddie had ordered you to rid yourself of his shirt and your underwear, saying he wanted you all nice and pretty for when Steve got there.

Steve entered the room with a grin on his face which slowly faded once he saw you laid out for him.

Goosebumps covered your flesh, the room was cold and the two pairs of eyes scouring your body didn’t help.

“Hi, Steve.” You lifted a hand and waved languidly at him. He gulped and looked over at Eddie.

“She said hi, don’t be rude, say hello back.”

Steve straightened, coming back to himself. “Hi, Babydoll.”

You smiled a toothy smile and squirmed on the bed, hair flaring out around your head. Steve took a step closer to you only to be stopped by Eddie clearing his throat. “Before we start… we talked it over, and Steve, we won’t do it if you aren’t okay with it.” Steve looked at his friend with a little bit of fear as to what he was going to suggest. “But, this one,” he pointed at you and shook his head. “This one said, after the fact, that she liked knowing people had watched us. So how about we film this? She said faces can be blurred, names can be cut out…” Eddie trails off.

Steve looks between the two of you and he can’t believe he says it but it comes out strong. “Okay.”

“Okay?” You and Eddie ask in surprise.

He shrugs, “I mean if they really won’t be able to see my face.”

Eddie stands and claps Steve on the back. “Glad to see you’re up for it, Stevie.” He grabs his phone and holds it out toward you. “Baby, do you mind figuring out the camera?”

You huff, grab the phone from his hand and expertly navigate to the camera. Setting the video to record after selecting a ten-second delay. You hand it back to Eddie, telling him to prop it up on the dresser, back camera facing the bed.

Once the recording starts you lay back on the bed and wait patiently for the two men. Eddie moves around to the side closest to your head and he leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Wanna let Steve taste you, Sweetheart?” Eddie asks. You nod only for him to tsk, “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, please I want him to.”

“Then ask him, baby.”

You look at Steve as he watches you with wide eyes, his tongue slowly swiping across his bottom lip. “Steve?”

“Yeah, Babydoll?” He answers.

“Will you please eat me out?”

Steve loses his breath at your question but beams all the same. “Sure I will, baby.” He begins his crawl up the bed to your legs. His hands are softer than Eddie’s as you feel them running over your skin. There are no callouses from years of playing guitar, just smooth palms and fingertips tickling you with how lightly they touch you. “Open wide for me, love.”

You do as he says, spreading your legs to accommodate his wide shoulders. You let your upper body relax into the mattress, soft sighs come from you as Steve's hands continue to rub at you. Your heart is beating in anticipation and as soon as you close your eyes you feel a short, wet lick going up your slit.

"Ah.. Steve," you gasp. Your hands immediately reach out to grip his hair to which he responds by pulling away.

"Eddie, why don't you keep her hands occupied and out of my hair." He pulls your hands away from him and waits for Eddie to grab hold of them before settling back between your thighs.

Eddie complies, taking your hands and raising them above your head and resting them on the tops of his thighs. "Keep your hands right here, baby, don't wanna see you move 'em," he instructs. "Now tell Steve you're sorry for messing up his hair."

You pout and dig your fingers into Eddie's jeans when Steve's tongue flicks at your clit. "I'm sorry for putting my hands in your hair, Stevie."

Steve's kitten links to your clit stop and he looks up through thick eyelashes. "Fuck… baby." He groans before diving back into you. This time his licks aren't slow. They're fast and strong and almost too much as he only shows attention to your clit.

Behind you, Eddie unzips his jeans and begins to pull himself from them. He taps your cheek with his hand and speaks your name. "Open that pretty mouth for me," he says.

You feel yourself getting impossibly wetter at the sight of his cock inches from you. Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out for good measure.

Eddie groans as he pushes himself into you. "Such a good girl for me. My cock taste good, sugar?"

You hum around him, the tangy taste of his precum spreading throughout your mouth. He let you suck on him as best you could before he began thrusting in and out gently.

Meanwhile, Steve had begun fucking your entrance with two fingers. He had you squirming underneath him, hips bucking at the sensations.

It was hard to focus on any one feeling, on either of the two men. As Eddie fucked your mouth and Steve your pussy, your body filled with pleasure. Your legs widened for Steve, walls clenching down around his fingers as he pressed them up over and over again into a sensitive spot. Your throat relaxed and your head fell over the side of the bed letting Eddie's cock delve deeper and deeper into you.

With your mouth full you can’t tell them you’re close, but Steve can tell. You’ve got his fingers in a vice-like grip and he can see the cool sweat that's broken out all over you. He laps up your wetness and begins to suck on your clit.

You let out muffled moans and gagging breaths before pushing Eddie away. Your arms stung with the ache of holding onto his thighs for so long. “Fuck!” you cry out, gasping for air as your body begins to twitch, orgasm coming on fast.

Steve pulls away just far enough to speak. “Gonna cum, Babydoll? Gonna cum all for us?”

“Yeah, gonna cum,” you heave, chest rising and falling fast.

“Then ask.” Eddie’s voice is deep and booming behind you.

“Please Sir, Steve, can I cum?” you ask.

They both take the time to look at one another and Eddie shrugs, leaving Steve to decide.

“Go ahead, baby.” Steve smiles and kicks up the pace of his fingers while his other hand comes to massage your clit.

Eddie’s hands are also on you in a second, pulling and pinching at your nipples. The sensations are too much to handle, your back arches off the bed and your muscles go rigid as you cum hard. Wet sounds fill the room as Steve keeps plunging his fingers in and out.

“Cumming! I’m fucking cumming!” you cry, legs snapping shut around Steve as your body shook.

“Good girl,” they both praise.

Steve took his hand from between your legs and brought his soaked fingers up to his mouth, licking them. Before he could clean them completely, Eddie took Steve’s hand and brought it to his own mouth. He hummed at the taste of you.

“You always taste so sweet, sugar.” He hums.

You watch, eyes half-lidded, as Steve moves to sit in the middle of the bed, back pressed against the headboard. Eddie rakes his fingers in your hair then grabs your shoulders, helping to sit you up.

He gives you soft kisses over your face before asking, “Gonna let us fuck you now, baby?”

“Yes, sir. Wanna feel you both.”

“Is that right, Babydoll? Want us to stretch you open?” Steve reaches his hand out, catching your ankle and rubbing circles into the skin with his thumb.

“Please.” You pull your foot away from him only to then crawl his way. Steve guides your legs over his. He’s still in his slacks, cock aching to be released. The heat your body lets off above him only adds to his discomfort.

“God, need these fucking things off.” He growls hands coming down between the two of you only for you to push them away.

“I’ll get it.” You respond in a sultry tone. Nimble fingers flick the button of his pants open and with how much he’s tented against the zipper it almost flies down by itself.

Eddie moves up the bed behind you. Pants and boxers now discarded. His warm palms traverse the smooth expanse of your back and hips, his fingers grip at your ass. He looks over your shoulder and chuckles, "Still as big as ever aren't you, Stevie?"

Steve's cock is massive in your hands. Slowly you begin to move up and down his length, spreading the milky, translucent spend over his tip. He groans, hips bucking into your hands.

"Quit teasing baby. Need to be inside you." Steve tuts.

You wriggle in his lap before going up onto your knees. Steve scoots down a bit and his cock aligns with your entrance. You keep him straight as you slowly sink down on him. His girth stretches you further than you've ever experienced. Air is sucked in through your teeth as you whine, head falling forward to his shoulder.

"I know, baby, I know." He coos.

Behind you, Eddie still has his hands over you, helping you move steadily to the base of his friend.

If Steve was pushing you to your limit now, you couldn't begin to imagine what it would feel like to also have Eddie buried in your ass.

When the tip of Steve's cock met with the resistance of your cervix, you let out a long, low mewl. “Ah- Steve!”

“That’s right babydoll, say my name.” He grits out as Eddie helps you to up the pace of your hips.

“Steve!” You call out again, whimpering as you clench down around him.

His hand reaches for the back of your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. You slow your hips down to an almost halt and as you pull away from Steve you look back at Eddie. “Please,” you say to him. “Wanna feel you too.”

Eddie takes his time lining himself up with you, teasing your hole with the tip only to move away. He extends his hand between yours and Steve's faces. “Spit,” He commands and you both spit into his hand. He uses the saliva to wet himself and you before pressing in finally.

You gasp, chest falling into Steve as you are opened up. Eddie had only recently started fucking your ass, in preparation for this night, but him alone couldn’t amount to the feeling of both holes being filled by such massive cocks.

“Ah- fuck Sweetheart,” Eddie grunts. “Sucking me in aren't you?”

You nod erratically, “Yes, sir. Mmm, you both feel so good.”

Steve chuckles. “She says we feel good, Eds.”

“I know… She feels good too.” Eddie chokes out a moan, “I think I can feel you, Steve.”

“Fuck, me too.”

You think Steve is moving closer to you for a kiss but when you close your eyes and the kiss doesn't come, you open them again only to see him kissing Eddie. The sheer dominance Eddie was putting into the kiss had you clamping down around them, bringing forth long, deep groans from them both. You watched in awe as Eddie had his fingers twisted in the hair at Steve’s neck, pulling his head back. It opened him up for more teeth, more tongue, more everything. You would have thought it impossible to get even more wet, but this sight was what it took.

Eddie shoved Steve away gently and then connected his lips with your neck. Steve also began to pay attention to your body by latching onto one of your breasts. You begin to ride them both, hips rutting into each of them at a breakneck speed. It was almost too much.

With them both filling you up and their mouths sucking and licking over your skin, you cry out. You have no time to ask for permission to cum before you feel wetness erupting from between your legs.

Your head falls back onto Eddie’s shoulder, your chest heaves up and down as your breaths run ragged. The two men keep themselves buried deep within you, fucking you as you moan and cry with pleasure.

They’re both grunting as they push themselves into you, an animalistic sound that spurs the other on until you feel Steve let up. His rhythm becomes erratic and his grip on your skin like a vice. As he comes undone inside of you he lets out the most leg-clenching, giving you butterfly whimper you have ever heard.

Eddie is quick to follow, pumping you full and kissing you hard.

You all fall in a heap of sweaty, exhausted bodies. Someone’s lips find yours in the pile, even with your eyes closed you can tell it’s Steve, his facial hair being almost non-existent compared to Eddie’s beard. Your hand finds its way into his hair again and this time he lets you keep it there, tugging him in closer.

“Thank you for coming over.” You tell him between open-mouthed kisses.

Steve sighs. “No, thank you for letting me.”

“Right, well, I think I need a shower.” Eddie kissed down your shoulder before standing. “Who’s joining me?”

Excitedly, you scramble to your feet beside him and pull Steve to his.

This night was far from over if the two men had anything to do with it. Screw work and obligations. Screw going to bed at a decent time. You made them both feel young again and they were going to chase that until they physically couldn’t.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader #older!eddie munson #steve harrington x reader #older!steve harrington #Steve harrington smut #steve harrington

756 notes · View notes

mirai-e-jump · 7 months

Text

Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger Character Book: We're KING!!!!!

PROLOGUE

Jeramie Brasieri was troubled. After ending the conflict between humans and the strange looking creatures, Bugnarak, and with the turning point of becoming king, he wanted to create a new story.

However, he couldn't come up with anything that could surpass, "The Legend of King-Ohger," which he himself had written, and was known to everyone in Chikyu. And so, he decided to make a proposal to the 5 kings, who were also his figthing comrades…or so it goes.

Gira Hasty

"I'm going to rule the world!"

Taisei Sakai guesses what's going on in Gira's head! 50% Children from the orphanage 20% The people of Shugoddam 15% The kings and citizens of the other countries 10% What I was like when I was young 5% Food

My Favorite Point: The Cloak "I was worried in the beginning on whether it would look good on me, but now, it's my favorite!" (-Sakai)

Yanma Gast

"You guys, just shut up already and follow me. I'm not going to lose to anyone!"

Aoto Watanabe guesses what's going on in Yanma's head! 80% Technology and research for the sake of the country's future 15% When it comes to N'kosopa, how I should act as a king 5% Space to think about other stuff

My Favorite Point: Cuff Earring "I like that it has alot of decorations, including N'kosopa's emblem and the jagged edges." (-Watanabe)

The Jacket "I can understand why Yanma loves it, The key point is that it's got alot of texture!" (-Watanabe)

Hymeno Ran

"I'll do as I want and follow my own path!"

Murakami Erika guesses what's going on in Hymeno's head! 40% Cute things and beautiful scenery, fashion and other things including the "arts" 30% Lifesaving and medical research for the sake of Ishabana's people 20% Romantic stories 10% Daydreaming about the future

My Favorite Point: The Spiral Curled Hair "With this hair, I love the novel style of it being tied up and the tiara attached to the knot." (-Murakami)

The Immovable King and Moffun

A Special photoshoot with Rita Kaniska and Moffun has become a realization! With their mask removed, Rita enters a relaxed mode, and is being healed by and carefully brushing the fur of Moffun.

"Together with Moffun" is a long running animated series that depicts Panpy, a cryptid hunter, meeting the legendary yetis Moffun and living in "Mofu Village." The white, cute and fluffy visuals, the love of humans, and the willingness to be hugged so tightly…The healing nature of Moffun is very popular among both children and adults, and is known to have achieved the highest viewership rating in Ishabana of 90.9%, which is run by Hymeno Ran.

One of the reasons for the love of this series, was the proof of bond between the queen of Ishabana and her people. Having lost her parents in the "Wrath of God" tragedy 15 years ago, Hymeno, who became queen at such a young age, had suffered greatly…It was at this time that the people of Ishabana rose up. They made the show with the hopes that she would smile as much as possible, and Hymeno, who grew up watching it, turned into a wonderful queen and doctor.

Another big fan of this show, which is currently airing all across Chikyu, loves it. It's the King of Gokkan, Rita Kaniska. Rita's "Moffun Love " is becoming apparent to Hymeno, while Rita doesn't show any emotion due to their duty as king…If Moffun's charm, which has won the hearts of the two kings, spreads any further, is it possible…the future of Chikyu could become brighter?!

Rita Kaniska

"Even if the earth were to split or the sky falls, Rita Kaniska will not be shaken!"

Hirakawa Yuzuki guesses what's going on in Rita's head! 90% Trials and other work that has to get done 10% Wanting to play with Moffun

My Favorite Point: The Collar "They usually wear a collar that covers their face, so scenes where they show their face are appealing." (-Hirakawa)

Kaguragi Dybowski

"We'll eliminate these pests for a bountiful harvest"

Kaku So guesses what's going on in Kaguragi's head! 75% Toufu 10% The other countries kings 10% Suzume 5% Racules

My Favorite Point: The Furisode's Patterns "I like that the design shows off the various emotions. This costume is a must for Kaguragi!" (-Kaku)

Jeramie Brasieri

"Humans, Bugnarak, and everything else, I rule over all and determine the fate of the world. The king of inbetween, the story of what I do will be passed down forever."

Ikeda Masashi guesses what's going on in Jeramie's head! 80% Peace 20% Stories

My Favorite Point: The Forehead Makeup Instead of using a sticker, I have the patterns drawn on instead. It's the switch that gets me into the role! (-Ikeda)

419 notes · View notes

abbysdruidess · 11 months

Text

•._.••¯´´•.¸¸.•headcanons about married life with abby [w nsfw]•._.••¯´´•.¸¸.•

wc: 1.1k

tags: tooth rotting fluff, smut, dom!Abby, dom/sub dynamics mentioned

a/n: lmk what you guys think abt this one:)

this is kinda in the same universe along with the abby proposes to you and wedding hcs, so if you haven't you could check them out-though this one could also be read as a standalone<3

ꜱꜰᴡ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

❦ you guys put a lot of work into your little dreamhouse™️ and are extremely proud of it. As an out and about lesbian, Abby took up a woodworking project and built a library that fits right into the wall of your living room. Which you were extremely supporting of, because it gave you the lovely opportunity to ogle your wife in a tank top and work pants, huffing, red faced and wiping sweat from her forehead in your backyard. You set an alarm and every couple of hours you bring her some cool water or lemonade with fruit and brush some locks of hair out of her dewy face<3

❦ she's also one of these people that don't believe in bringing in a handyman to fix any faulty appliance in your household. She has a huge, neon yellow tool box stashed away somewhere(you still aren't sure exactly where) that magically reappears everytime your car won't start or the air-conditioner starts making a noise. And 90% of the time Abby gets the job done, running on pure willpower and spite alone. When she doesn't and you guys have to bring someone else to do it, she just goes "Pfft, I could have totally done that. I just didn't cause I thought I might break it.". "Of course honey", you reassure her with a kiss on the cheek. You don't have her saved in your phone with an image of Bob the Builder for nothing.

❦ you guys are over at her dad's place a lot. When you were looking for a house, you made sure to get a place near his so you could visit whenever. He has a photo of you two from the wedding in his mantlepiece making the goofiest faces imaginable and every single time you visit Abby pesters him to take it down while you shit yourself laughing in the background.

❦ also, when your step-siblings Yara and Lev join, it's absolute chaos. You guys probably end up having an impromptu food fight and flick celery sticks at each other.

❦ if you have any hobbies such as knitting/playing instruments/writing etc she's fullly behind them and will always ask you to show her your progress. She's pretty proud of it as well, and smiles a little excitedly like :D

❦ please sing to her. It doesn't matter if you haven't sang a day in your life and it sounds like tires screeching on asphalt, it calms her when her baby sings to her. Will think you have the voice of a choir of angels no matter what and it is the only thing that can effectively put her to sleep. Bonus points if you play the guitar as well.

❦ Abby is really into reading(probably why she got that library built in the first place) and has one permanently etched in her night stand. She strikes me as one of these people that is a fan of the classics and doesn't read anyone that came after Hemingway. Until for her 26th birthday someone gifts her books from like Stephen King or Alison Bechdel and initially she's hesitant but eventually they grow into her and are stationed into her Hall of Fame shelf.

❦ whenever either of you is sick, you insist to pamper and care for one another. During the winter months Abs has a cold or the flu every month or so, and you have to actually fight her to take the day off and rest.

-Baby, you burning up. If you go to work you'll just get worse.

-I'm *cough* fine. I honestly feels 10 years younger. I don't get what the big deal is.

❦ you two definitely exercise together. Either you always go to the gym together-although you're not there as often as she is. Abby exercises religiously 5 times a week and that exercise will take place with or without you, but she would be damned if she didn't love when you tagged along with her. Either you guys have set up a little home gym with some basic equipment like mats, a treadmill, these bouncy balls and a weight lifting bench. Of course, you spot her, because you will take up any offer to ogle at her putting those big, powerful guns she calls arms to work. She reciprocates by insisting to hold your thighs while you do sit ups. And she inevitably ends up squeezing them like balls of dough.

ɴꜱꜰᴡ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

❦ when you first met Abby in your early 20s, you though it was natural for a woman her age to have such a heightened libido. After all, she did get around a lot for someone that looked like her. And that instict to fuck you senseless never abandons her-Abby is in a constant state of Wanting to Fuck, and is game whenever you are.

❦ Your sexcapades have included(but are not limited to): empty libraries, locker room showers, back alleys of clubs and just about any sturdy furniture in your house.

❦ she is a total beast when it comes to lovemaking, and can go anywhere from 2 hours to all night long, although most sessions end when you tap out bc you know you'll be sore tomorrow.

❦ even though everyone knows you're Mrs and Mrs from the ring on your finger, Abby wants to reassure that, by marking you as hers. Hickies, bites, anything is game. And she loves the slight sting of the scratch marks you leave her when she hops in the shower the morning after. She calls them claw marks affectionately.

❦ Loooves strapping you to positions she can utilise her muscle strength, like flatiron or missionary with her arms propped up. When you're scissoring, she wants to be the one with her legs on top, grinding her pussy into yours like it's nothing.

❦ I think Abby has this very hard dom image, and while she wants to take over during sex and feel like the one in control, she also needs to be taken care of. She works hard from day to night, and her past partners haven't been exactly accommodating to her needs. So whenever she's particularly exhausted, crawl under the covers to give her some head. Or in the shower. Or in the couch. Or under the dining table. She definitely cums fast when you suck her clit, it gets extremely sensitive and swollen while you're in between her legs.

❦ Is an occasional squirter, and also loves to make you squirt. It happened once as you were riding her face, and she just. slurped it all up. You lowkey passed out on the spot as your knees almost gave up.

❦ cuddling with her afterwards. There's still some resounding bliss in the air, as you both treasure the moment, your limbs all tangled up. You leave small kisses all over her sternum as she tightens her grip around you. If you're too exhausted, you fall asleep immediately, if not you just glance at each other through heavy lids with lovestruck eyes. You sleep like a baby and wake up feeling as refreshed as ever.

send me an ask if you guys would like me to elaborate any of these<3

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader

603 notes · View notes

mediumgayitalian · 3 months

Text

It starts really…really stupid.

The Apollo cabin is having a movie night. Will’s DVD collection is bigger than his textbook collection, which is saying something, because he is a nerd. They baited Nico with a pirate movie: then, when he was comfortable and moon-eyed and unable to keep his mouth shut for a good twenty minutes after the end credits, they started phasing in the rom-coms.

Evil. Manipulators, the lot of them; so incapable of lying that they’re masters of bending the truth. Nico would leave, except they literally barricaded the door and keep all the lights on so there are no shadows for him to duck into (something he should have questioned from the very beginning, but unfortunately as soon as the Pirates of the Caribbean theme started playing, his reasoning skills hopped on a train and fled back to the Lotus Casino in 1938. So).

“This is stupid,” Nico grumbles, not that anyone is paying him any attention. Every single one of Will’s siblings stares at the TV with their chins in their hands, completely ignoring any and all of Nico’s (very valid) criticism.

Not that it stops him. “This is less realistic than Davey Jones,” he insists, largely just so his grievances are Known and Aired Out. The leading man says something stupid and cheesy, and three seperate doofuses in his company genuinely swoon. Nico scowls as hard as he can, pulling a blanket over his head. “Idiotic and cheesy.”

Nico pointedly isn’t following the plot — not that there is one — so he has no idea what’s going on. He squints. The leading man is wearing some ugly suit, too tight, and the leading lady collapses tearfully in his arms, thanking him about something.

Will sighs dreamily. Nico scowls harder.

“When is it my turn,” Will laments.

Kayla reaches over blindly and pats him on the head. She ends up more smacking him gently and lovingly on the face, but Will doesn’t seem to mind.

“Don’t we all want to know.”

“You don’t understand,” Will says dramatically. He flops backwards, hands flailing. Nico peeks over from under his blanket. His Head Medic camp shirt has ridden up in his dramatics, showing a sliver of skin. Nico flushes and intentionally looks away, focusing on his friend’s face.

“When will a rich, attractive older man come waltzing in here and offer to put me through med school, huh? When will my dream come true?”

Nico is 90% sure that Will is joking, but without his permission, be blurts out —

“You’d run off with some guy you don’t know?”

“Without hesitation!” Will cries. He yanks himself back upright, making Nico jump, arms thrown up and forehead creased. “You know how broke I’m gonna be when I’m done school?”

Nico doesn’t answer, but Will doesn’t wait for one.

“Very! I grew up on a pullout couch, which, I love my mom, and I love our apartment, but I want — I want —”

With his long, lanky limbs and flushed face, he begins to remind Nico of a kettle. He refrains from pointing this out. His siblings, on the other hand, openly snicker at him, dividing their attention between the movie and throwing popcorn at their eldest brother’s head.

“I want an Alaskan King! And — a mahogany desk! With lots of drawers! And windows! Floor to ceiling windows! And a rooftop garden!”

He glares playfully at his siblings, who are all giggling now, pointing fingers at them all.

“Lemme tell you right now. A man walks in here offering me that and a cheque for any school I want and it’s over for you people. I’m gone. You can fend for yourselves.”

“Yeah right,” Austin snorts, disbelieving. He reaches over and pinches Will’s thigh, cackling when he squawks. “We can’t even get you to leave the infirmary at the end of your shift. You’re stuck here forever, Rapunzel.”

“Just you wait! My prince will come!”

“As if he even wants a prince,” he hears Kayla whispering to a giggling Gracie, who responds with a cheeky, “Not when he’s got a king!”

Nico doesn’t know who they’re talking about, but the fact that there’s someone — his vision goes green. He has to tamp down a genuine snarl which is — ridiculous. And out of nowhere.

He cuts another glance to Will, who is still muttering petulantly. Every few minutes, he hears something about an “open floor plan” and “high pressure showers”.

He gets a very, very stupid idea.

———

The first mistake (because that’s what it is) is easy to explain away — the Hades cabin is still under renovation.

Well. Mostly.

“Please,” Will is begging, eyes big and pleading and painfully, beautifully blue. “Please? I’ll bring movies! And Yan’s Wii! And get Cecil to lend me some of the games he — uh, acquired! Pretty please!”

Nico has to bite back the you could be toting a pack of Lastrogonian giants with you and I’d still let you in that so desperately wants to come out of his mouth.

“Bring snacks and I’ll consider it,” he says instead.

Will beams. His eyes nearly squeeze shut, when he smiles like that, and there’s nothing Nico can do about the sharp inhale that rips through his chest. He blinks the spots away from his eyes, everything suddenly a little brighter, covered in golden sunlight.

“Yes!” Will cheers, pumping his fist and jumping up and down like a lunatic. Nico is so endeared that it aches something awful in his chest, and his cheeks smart from the size of his smile. “Sleepover! After my shift, di Angelo, I won’t be late!”

Yes, you will.

��I lock my doors and set a skeleton guard to watch it at eight,” he warns with a throat suddenly dry. “I mean it, Solace. I’ll sic the harpies on you.”

Will laughs as he jogs towards the infirmary, clearly not believing him. Nico watches him go the whole way, jumping when a hand lands on his shoulder.

“You,” says Drew Tanaka, blowing a bubble with her gum, “are a humiliating case, di Angelo.”

He shoves her, scowling. His face feels sunburnt. “Shut up.”

He absolutely does not spend the day moping after the infirmary, despite whatever rumours Drew’s lying mouth might spread. He has a job, thanks. He runs three separate sword fighting classes, and the younger kids are insane, so he doesn’t have time to be distracted.

Not that he is. But. Hypothetically, if he were to be distracted, he isn’t. Yeah.

He sits with Percy and Jason at dinner, distractedly wolfing down his food. Some kind of barbecue. He is not paying attention.

“No, Jase, we can say whatever we want, he’s not listening —”

“If he decides to stab you I am going to let him —”

“What’s going on?” Nico interrupts, looking up for the first time.

Percy smiles angelically, placing his hands under his chin.

“Nothing, Nico dear.”

Jason bangs his head on the table.

“I’m gonna…leave,” Nico says, slowly. “Y’all…do whatever you’re doing.”

“You said y’all,” Percy says gleefully. “You said y’all.”

Nico flushes hotly. “I did not. Shut up before I summon Jules-Albert to run you over.”

Percy cackles. Even Jason laughs. Nico throws his plate at them as he stomps away, sprinting extra quickly past the infirmary for no reason at all.

Time seems to slow down after dinner. For all Nico knows, it actually does. It wouldn’t make a difference. By the time there’s a knock on his cabin door, the sun has well past set, and Will is smiling sheepishly.

“I didn’t hear my shift alarm,” he says, the second Nico opens the door.

Nico sighs. He bites the corner of his mouth, hard, so it doesn’t do something stupid like turn upwards or something.

“There’s ADHD, and then there’s you, Solace.”

Will leans into his personal space and presses an over-exaggerated, smacking kiss to his cheek before he can stop him. Nico goes scarlet.

“But you love me anyway!”

There are no thoughts left in Nico’s brain to refute him. The only thing shaking around up there are alarm bells and KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! repeated over and over again like a gong.

“Hngh,” he says, intelligently. Will doesn’t seem to notice, striding confidently right into the cabin.

“I brought the Wii and movies and stuff, like I promised, and I’ve been saving this chocolate I bought last time I went into the city — woah, when did that get here!”

Will freezes in the middle of the cabin, gaping. Nico nearly walks right into him.

‘That’ is the giant, brand-new bed tucked snugly in the far right corner — an Alaskan King.

Nico clears his throat, shrugging.

“Remodelling, remember? The coffin beds had to go. And no one else but me sleeps here, so. Hazel has her own bed on the other side.”

He gestures to the other corner, where Hazel’s — smaller — bed sits, empty, coral pink comforter straightened neatly. Will barely even glances at it.

“What! But I thought you already renovated the beds —”

“Temporary.”

Will squints at him for a moment. Nico squirms, trying to hold his gaze. He’s not lying — they were temporary. Of course, he only made the decision that they were temporary a week ago, but. Well. Truth is truth.

Evidently, Will decides that he isn’t going to get a real answer out of Nico or he doesn’t care to get one, because he quickly turns away and, with a running start, jumps and sprawls himself on the gigantic bed.

“Oh, gods,” he groans, and oh, gods, indeed, is Nico ever going to get a fucking break or is his face just going to be stuck like this all the time. “Gods, Neeks, I am going to move in here. I don’t even — look! I can stretch all the way and I don’t touch the edge!”

“I see that,” Nico says weakly. His shirt has ridden up again. Nico bites back the confessing comment he wants to make about undershirts and how Will should invest in them.

“Man, I feel like I could pass right out,” Will sighs, eyelashes — they are so long and so blonde who decided that who gave him that right — fluttering shut. He grabs on of Nico’s pillows and curls around it, content. Nico stares. And stares.

After too much time has passed, Will cracks an eye open, smiling slightly. “Well, don’t just stand there, Death Breath. Bed’s more than big enough for us both, now. Get over here.”

Miraculously, Nico does, managing to unglue himself from the floor and look anywhere but the long, languid stretch of Will’s body.

(They play four straight hours of Mario Kart — or, rather, Will spends four straight hours losing. When they finally fall asleep, they’re so far apart on the giant bed they might as well be in different countries — but Nico wakes up in the middle of the night with his arms around Will’s waist, and practically throws himself on the ground for the rest of the night.)

———

The next thing he does is just…embarrassing.

“I think you look hot,” Mitchell, Piper’s brother, assures him kindly. He pats Nico’s flaming cheek. “Honest. And it’ll work wonders! Will’ll be struck.”

“Why do people keep saying that,” Nico croaks. “I don’t even like him!”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

With Mitchell’s unwavering — if teasing — assurance, Nico finds the courage to step out of the Aphrodite cabin and into the waning sun. He’s grateful he waited until after the summer ended to do this — the fewer people around the witness, the better. His reputation is hanging on by a string as it is.

A wolf-whistle rings out the second he steps off the porch, making him scowl. Cecil, unfortunately, is far too used to being on the receiving end of it and does not even flinch.

“Looking spiffy, Ghost King!”

“Bite me,” Nico growls back, and is only aware of the trap he’s walked into when Cecil gleefully says, “I believe that’s Will’s job, actually —”

He wisely scampers away before the skeleton Nico summoned can murder him.

The second he’s out of sight, Nico slumps.

What is he doing.

“Aw, jeez, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! Lemme tell you the gar-bage I had to endure tod — Nico?”

Nico whips up to face the voice. Will stands a few feet in front of him, unmoving, wearing his scrubs today — heavily stained, yikes — and his favourite pair of ratty cargo shorts. The expression on his face is oddly inscrutable.

“Are you…going somewhere?”

“Yeah,” Nico says, flushing and repeating himself when his voice cracks three separate times. “Yeah, I’m. Um. Ambassador of Pluto duties, you know. I’m expected in New Rome in a couple hours.”

It’s not quite the truth — he is going to be in New Rome in a couple of hours, but his reason for being there is fabricated. Literally.

“I didn’t know you were visiting today.” Will steps forward, almost trance-like. His eyes are glued to somewhere around Nico’s chest, and he reaches out — hesitantly, although he’s never been hesitant to touch Nico in all the time he has known him — to brush his fingers over Nico’s collar. “This isn’t what you usually wear.”

Nico swallows. No, it is not. Usually, his Ambassador of Pluto uniform is his black toga. (It still is. If he was actually on duty and showed up in anything else, several Romans would have his head. Good thing he’s full of it.) But right now, he’s wearing a tailored, black silk suit made by hand by some dead Byzantine seamstress whose name Nico could not pronounce if he tried. Diamonds glitter in the lobes of his ears, freshly pierced, and his rings are more polished than usual.

“Special occasion today.”

Will doesn’t say anything for a long moment. His hand still curls at Nico’s collar, millimeters away from his neck, heat boring into his skin.

“You clean up nice.” An expression Nico can’t name flits across his eyes, and Nico’s breath catches, and then he’s grinning, too-wide and teasing, reaching up to dig a hand through his hair. “But maybe ditch the hair gel, Wilbur Robinson, and just let —”

“Gah! Get off of me! You’re the worst!”

Will stumbles back as he shoves him, weak from laughter, and Nico’s stomach flips.

———

The third thing is maybe the most ridiculous out of all of them — and almost gets him killed.

“I’m starving,” Will complains, apologizing to the random New Yorker who just walked into him. (Nico rolls his eyes. Will would get eaten if Nico wasn’t here — he is too soft for the city. He’s gonna get shoved into a puddle or something; he’s so unwilling to elbow his way through a crowd that Nico has to hold his hand so as not to lose him. Definitely not a city boy, that’s for sure.) “And we don’t have to meet Argus for another two hours — can we stop for food? I want something fried. Desperately.”

“I guess so,” Nico sighs, pretending to be more put-out than he is. Will doesn’t buy it for a second, rolling his eyes hard enough to hurt.

“C’mon, Nicholas Hoult. There’s gotta be a diner around here somewhere, and I still want to go shopping after this.”

He lets Will pull him around, even though they’d probably get somewhere faster if Nico leads. Will stops every three seconds to listen to a busker, or observe particularly interesting graffiti, or attempt to pet a pigeon. It shouldn’t be cute, it should be embarrassing because Will truly never gets out, but it is — endearing. A little. Even if Nico can feel his stomach eating itself.

Will brightens when he finally stumbles across some gaudy, mint-green painted, hole-in-the-wall family restaurant, beaming back at Nico like he won a sparring match rather than stumbled upon somewhere to eat. But his eyes are squished shut, the way they are when he’s genuinely excited, and some early January snow dusts his golden hair, and his nose is red from the cold, and it’s just —

It’s a lot.

They find a booth tucked in the back corner. Will slides in next to Nico, not across from him, and it makes him — flush, for some reason, cheeks glowing as bright as Will’s massive, dorky scarf.

The waitress brings them sodas. Nico doesn’t remember ordering them, but it’s cherry coke — his favourite — so he must’ve. Will has a water, because he’s annoying and pretentious, and he tries to blow his straw wrapper at Nico but he’s too fast and catches it. Will pouts.

“You’re no fun.”

“I’ll show you fun.”

He’s balled up the wrapper as tiny as possible and flicks it at Will’s face before he can stop him, except it hits him in the — eye, and Will shouts in surprise, and Nico jumps and rushes to apologise but he’s laughing too hard for it to be sincere, and Will scowls playfully at him, and Nico bangs his knee on the rickety table trying to move it and it only makes him laugh harder, and Will cracks soon, too. And he can’t sing for shit but his laughter is musical, low and baritone and a little raspy on the edges, like the country music he loves so damn much. And all the laughter gets sucked right out of Nico’s lungs as he watches him, bright-eyed, red-nosed and freezing, still wearing his stupid parka even though it’s barely below forty degrees, and he is suddenly achingly truly and obviously the most beautiful thing Nico has ever seen in his life, and he thinks oh, no. But it doesn’t hurt.

It doesn’t hurt at all.

———

(After the diner, they go window shopping, and Nico feels like he can’t function. His chest aches with new knowledge that he doesn’t know where to put. New York air is disgusting but Will smells like eucalyptus and sunshine, always, and the look on his face when they pass a dusty antique shop is blinding. He’s rambling about old anatomy textbooks and gods knows what else and Nico nods along with a stupid, endless smile on his face that he couldn’t tamp down if he tried.)

(In the back of the shop there’s a big, ancient, beautiful mahogany desk. It has a divot for an inkwell and more drawers than Nico can count. It’s nine hundred dollars. Nico pulls out the credit card his father gave him for emergencies, buys it before Will can stop him, and shadow travels all three of them — himself, Will, and the unbelievably massive desk — back to Cabin 13, passing out immediately after to the sound of Will’s shout.)

(His father is the first thing he sees in his dreams, arms crossed, legs tapping.)

(“I believe I told you that card was for emergencies,” says the Lord of the Dead, “not crises over cute boys.”)

(“You were down so bad you kidnapped your wife instead of talking to her like a normal person,” Nico blurts, and immediately wishes he would melt into shadows.)

(He wakes up to another arms-crossed, foot-tapping figure: Will lectures him for two and a half hours. He times it.)

(But Will does all his paperwork in the Hades cabin, now, skin glowing amber under the Greek fire torches, often falling asleep on the smooth wooden surface. He hasn’t spent a night in the infirmary in months. Often, if Nico can wake him, he’ll crawl into Nico’s massive bed, curling all six-two of him into a ball around the centre and puffing tiny little snores into his pillow.)

(His cabin smells like eucalyptus and sunshine all the time, now.)

———

He tells himself that this will be his last thing.

(It isn’t.)

It takes him four separate times to muster up the courage. It’s — humiliating, is what it is, and he’s never been a coward except for maybe about this one thing.

“Dude,” says Katie Gardener, the fifth time he walks by her cabin without saying something, “this is getting embarrassing. Pull yourself together.”

“I’m — pulled,” he defends, wishing he didn’t get red so damn easy. “And — what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at college, or something?”

“College ends in April, stupid,” she says, as if Nico has more than a fourth grade education and would somehow know that. He refrains from sticking out his tongue because that is Undignified, and clearly he is the more mature one of the two of them. “What do you need, flowers for Will or something? You don’t need to bother. He likes dandelions.”

“I know what flowers he likes,” Nico snaps, and wallows in immediate despair as she snickers. He should consider having Will remove whatever part of his brain is responsible for Stupid, Emotional Outbursts. Or just get a lobotomy. Whatever’s faster, honestly.

“I need — a garden.”

“…A garden.”

“Please don’t make me say it again,” he begs.

Perhaps college has somehow made her merciful — which he doubts, anyone who sustains a relationship with Travis freaking Stoll stopped worrying about mercy long ago — or perhaps he truly is that pitiful. But she relents, rolling her eyes and muttering something about stupid teenagers and refusal to communicate, blah blah blah. Nico knows he’s a mess. He would appreciate it if everyone else politely pretended he wasn’t. She comes back minutes later with a truly massive bucket of soil, a handful of gardening tools, and several packets of seeds.

“Well, you don’t have a lot of space for it, kid, seeing as your cabin is kind of tucked —”

“I want it on the roof,” Nico interrupts. He manages to keep his face in check. “Uh, that would make the most sense, anyways. It’s flat and I can get there easy and — yeah.”

She narrows her eyes at him. Years of Hermes cabin pranks have left her with a truly magnificent BS detector, but after a moment she sighs.

“Whatever, kid. Let’s go. Nothing will grow for a couple months, anyways.”

———

The last thing is what, eventually, gives him away.

The issue is that camp is crowded in the summer. And, really, he would have gotten it done in the spring, except he needed help — he needed an architect.

And he only really knew one, and her school year was kind of packed.

“You want,” says Annabeth slowly, “to entirely restructure your cabin.”

Nico squirms. “I just want to change the windows,” he mumbles.

She stares at him, fingers steepled, for what feels like ten solid minutes. At minimum.

“Kid —” Nico scowls, she is barely three years older than he is and technically almost a century younger — “installing floor to ceiling windows in your cabin will restructure it — entirely.” She pulls out a paper and pencil out of, as far as Nico can tell, absolutely nowhere, and begins to sketch. “There are foundations here, see? So everything has to be moved and reorganized to keep the structure standing. I can’t just, like…knock out the wall. It doesn’t work that way.”

Nico slumps. “So it’s not possible?”

“I didn’t say that,” she snaps, offended. “I just said it won’t be easy. Gimme a couple hours, I’ll have blueprints.”

She barely hears him as he thanks her, nose already pressed to the paper. Nico smiles at her anyway. She’s the best and brightest of them for a reason, after all, and he appreciates her help.

The walk back to his cabin is a surprisingly pleasant one. A lot of his friends (which, woah) are finally back, and Nico is realising he’s missed them, and it’s nice to see them again. It’s also nice to see camp as busy as it is, as much as he likes the quiet chill of the winter months. All the cabin doors are wide open as people sweep out the dust, shake out sheets, air out the staleness that has been locked inside some of them for months. Chatter fills every corner, and the air smells like strawberries.

His small smile widens as he approaches his own cabin — the flowers he and Katie planted a few months back have started to bloom, and with them comes the memory of Will’s gasping excitement when he’d seen them, the smile that lit up his face. They’re regular plants, but Katie — enchanted them, somehow, protected them; even when Nico is having his worst days, they don’t wither. (And they keep growing, too. Nico has taken to picking a flower every morning and leaving it in his (Will’s) desk — to brighten up the room, on paper, but the flower always ends up whenever Will is by the end of the day. (And, more often than not, tucked behind his ear, locks of golden hair caught among brightly coloured petals; a crown of his own making.)

The cabin is empty when he walks in, unsurprisingly considering how often Will is usually locked in the infirmary for the first week of camp.

(He’ll be back tonight, to do his paperwork before heading back to his cabin. Nico’ll have to be sure he actually makes it back to his cabin — Chiron has been turning a blind eye, because Will needs more sleep and Kayla and Austin can handle themselves, but the little kids need their counsellor. Well, most days.)

Nico stands in the door and realises: things have changed.

Maybe a silly thing to think. But — a year ago, this place was unliveable. Dark, and dreary, coffin-shaped and miserable, it was no wonder it had never felt like home. But the sight of Hazel’s bed (and the sketchbook she left on it last time she was here) fills him with warmth, and the windows are always open, now, so even the air feels lighter. Dozens of Will’s textbooks are strewn around the room, Lou Ellen’s jacket hangs on the back of the desk chair, a deck of cards is sprawled on the floor. A sun lamp is plugged into the wall. Nico’s giant bed is unmade. He’s got laundry peeking out of the closet doors, and he needs to clean his bathroom. A pair of obnoxiously patterned flipflops sit by the door.

It looks lived in. It looks like somewhere that can be lived in, and most of all, his friends — Will — have been living in it with him.

He swallows the lump in the back of his throat, stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

It takes him time to tidy up. He leaves Hazel’s sketchbook where it is, along with most of Will’s stuff — although he shoves a couple textbooks in random drawers when he trips over them. He puts the rest of his friends’ stuff by the door so he doesn’t forget to return it, and makes his bed (which, frankly, he hardly does, because it’s a massive pain — he tucks in one corner of the mattress cover and has to freaking summon Jules Albert to get to the other. But it was worth it). He barely makes it to dinner, too distracted to hear the horn.

“Finally,” bursts a voice sometime around nine, throwing open the door and flopping on the bed. Nico smiles, setting down his game and running light fingers through Will’s frizzy hair. He groans, leaning into it.

“I hate the first week of camp!”

Nico snorts. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes I do! It’s miserable! It’s all —” he contorts just face, mocking — “‘Will, do this.’ ‘Will, do that.’ ‘Will, I forgot how hard the climbing wall was and incinerated myself.’ ‘Will, we need you to treat the group of kids Clarisse beat up.’ Will, Will, Will! Constant!”

“How dare they take up all your time,” Nico says, grinning.

“Right! They should be less — I dunno, disastrous! I am one person! I can only be pulled in so many directions at once!”

Despite all his complaining, the slightest of smiles pulls at Will’s mouth — as Nico would expect. He’s exhausted and perpetually overworked, sure, but there’s nothing in the world Will relishes like being needed.

“I just —” He sighs, leaning further into Nico’s touch. Nico’s throat goes dry. “Man, I’m so glad we have this place to ourselves. It’s the only privacy I get. Sometimes I just wanna close the blinds and never come out, you know?”

Nico freezes. “Uh.”

“And it’s — nice, in here. Smells like you. And it just, well —” He smiles, broad and soft, and, suddenly, Nico understands his father on a level he never thought he would. If Will looked him in the eye and asked him for all the riches under the Earth, asked him to defy Zeus, asked him to rule the dead — Nico would bend time and space to do that for him. He understands, abruptly and wholly, why loving mortals ends in tragedy, why the gods promise more than they can give. He wants to give Will everything. “I like when it’s just you and me sometimes,” he says, softly. “It can be nice to disappear.”

There’s so much love bursting out Nico’s chest he doesn’t know what to do with it. He feels like every part of him is screaming his affection, every molecule is straining to meet with Will’s. He’s dizzy.

“I,” he starts, then freezes again. He doesn’t know what — what. Every thought he’s ever had hits him at once, and he can’t pick one out, can’t think with all the clutter in his head.

Will perks up. “Yes?”

“I have to. Cancel. My plans. With Annabeth.”

Will deflates. “Oh.”

There is something here, something charged, something about to change — and Nico is losing it. He panics.

“I asked her to restructure the cabin!” he shouts, startling Will. He squeezes his eyes shut instead of looking at those wide, wide blue eyes. “To! Make. Floor to ceiling windows.” He waits a bit. “Apparently you can’t just bust down the wall. You have to. Restructure.”

It’s silent for so long Nico is half-convinced Will left, if it weren’t for the faint sound of him breathing and the heat Nico can always feel leeching off of him. He peeks his eyes back open.

“Why?” asks Will quietly when their eyes meet.

Nico swallows. It takes several tries to moisten his throat enough to speak. “Why what?”

“Why do you want to…have floor to ceiling windows?”

“Same reason I wanted this massive bed,” he admits, quiet, whispering, near silent. “Same reason I — changed my Ambassador uniform. Same reason for the desk and the —” he stumbles over his words, blushing — “the garden and the flowers and — this, right now.”

“Nico,” says Will, very very quietly.

“I just. Well. You were joking, you know? And, gods, it’s been a year, now, but I think you were telling the truth? A little bit? And anyway, I want you to have the things you like, and —”

“Nico,” Will says again, louder this time, a particular quality to his voice Nico can’t name. He falters.

“…Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Nico doesn’t even have the chance to be offended. He doesn’t even have the chance to think. Before he can rationalize the situation and connect the dots in front of him, Will’s hands are sliding into his hair, his face is inches away, and then they’re kissing.

They’re kissing.

Will tastes like Blistex, like mint gum, and like the breath he sighs into his mouth. His eyes are closed, and for a full six seconds before Nico recovers enough to close his, he has the best view of his pale, fanning eyelashes that he’s ever seen — long enough to think: oh, this is a child of the sun. He smells familiar and — intoxicating. Nico never wants to know pure air again, never wants to move without the brand of Will’s over-heated hands on the back of his neck. Never wants to forget the rough scrape of Will’s chapped lips, the tiny little sounds and sighs he makes every time Nico moves their mouths, the slightest curl of his lips when he smiles, unable to hold it back. The rapid beat of his heart, pressed against his own chest.

“Nico,” he says again, slightly more urgent, pulling away just enough that their lips still brush every time he speaks, “Nico, I love you to death.”

“I would do anything for you,” Nico chokes out. He meets Will’s eyes and tries to — communicate it to him, tries to beam his thoughts into his head. “I would — move the moon and stars for you, do you understand that? Do you know how precious you are to me? My tesoro,” he says, feeling Will’s breath hitch. “Il mio cuore. Il mio cuore battendo, sole.”

For a second Nico frightens himself. He’s never spoken words like that to anyone in his life — not his mother, not Bianca, not Hazel, nobody.

But Will’s smile is radiant. And he still holds Nico, gently, and says over and over, “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Something slots back into place in his chest.

333 notes · View notes

thecreaturecodex · 2 years

Text

Monster Art History: The Wendigo

You may be wondering why the wendigo, which has become very popular in pop culture over the last 10 years or so, is usually depicted in Western sources with a deer head. This appears nowhere in Native American traditions, despite the creature having lots of folkloric variations. The association of the wendigo with deer is 100% Western, 100% modern, and has a long, weird history.

Just in case you need a primer, the windigo or witiko is a supernatural being from the Algonquin speaking nations of the eastern American continent. It appears as an emaciated figure, sometimes giant, sometimes covered in ice, sometimes both. In many stories, they have a literal heart of ice. Windigos are manifestations of cannibalism and winter, and hunt, kill and eat people. Someone who resorts to cannibalism to survive, or otherwise abandons their community for personal gain, will become one of them. A few stories tell of someone being “cured” and turned back into a human, but usually the only cure is to kill the monster. In the last several decades, native writers have associated windigos with capitalism and deforestation as an extension of their selfishness. If you would like to know more about the properly Native windigo in context, I recommend Dangerous Spirits: The Windigo in Myth and History by Shawn Smallman.

The creature first came into horror fiction with Algernon Blackwood’s “The Wendigo”. Note the spelling, which would become the standard in horror, and generally in non-academic Western sources. In that story, it is not associated with cannibalism, but instead is a more generic “evil spirit of nature”. This wendigo stalks white people in the wilderness and turns a Native character into a new wendigo by seizing them and flying with them into the sky. This definitely better fits fears about non white people, fears about nature, and how the one is closer to the other than “civilized” people. Its description in the story is vague (the most we get is that it has burned its feet away by running into the sky). But when the story appeared in Weird Tales in the 1930s, Virgil Finlay illustrated it like this, the first antlered wendigo I know of.

This story was ripped off by August Derleth, a prominent Weird author in the 1940s and the main popularizer of HP Lovecraft. In his Cthulhu Mythos stories, he introduces Ithaqua the Wind Walker, which is an alien version of Blackwood’s monster. This fits into Derleth’s vision of the gods and monsters of HP Lovecraft falling into the four classical elements, with Ithaqua being invented to represent Air. Ithaqua is usually depicted as an icy, emaciated giant, so ironically is one of the more accurate wendigos to Indigeonous beliefs in pop culture.

Image from a recent French edition of Call of Cthulhu RPG, by Loic Muzy

In Pet Sematary, Stephen King uses a wendigo as the reason for why the titular cemetery is cursed. This is an update of the classic racist trope of the “Indian Burial Ground”, except this time what gets buried there comes back animalistic and evil. The racist implications of that are pretty apparent. This wendigo is seen briefly and has ram’s horns. It does not appear in the first film adaptation, but does in the more recent one... with deer horns instead, because those are trendy right now.

A good scholarly look at the real windigo versus the 20th century horror wendigo is “The Appropriation of the Windigo Spirit in Horror Literature” by Kallie Hunchman.

In the 1980s, a movie called Frostbiter: Wrath of the Wendigo was produced, but it wasn’t released until 1995 by Troma. From what I’ve read, it’s a pretty transparent ripoff of Evil Dead 2, with the characters being picked off in a haunted cabin with a zombie in the basement. The “twist” is that the origin of the horrors is a wendigo released by breaking a Christian demonology-style sacred circle. This wendigo is realized in stop motion animation, and has the most deer-like body yet.

A number of other independent horror movies in the 90s and 2000s used wendigos as a plot element. These follow the Blackwood/King approach of having the wendigo being something evil, ancient and Native American, reflecting white anxieties about living on stolen land more than Native anxieties about cannibalism and greed. Wendigo (2001) has the creature sicced on a white family when they hit a deer with their car. The Last Winter (2006) posits that global warming and fossil fuel extraction have unleashed the ghosts of dead animals, which are wendigo apparently, to revenge themselves on mankind. Which approaches the idea that greed is wendigo sickness, but I don’t think intentionally as a reference to modern Native literature. The “wendigo” in this movie are spectral moose and caribou.

The mainstream breakthrough of the deer-headed wendigo was in, appropriately enough for this blog, Pathfinder RPG. In “Spires of Xin-Shalast”, the last volume of Rise of the Runelords published in 2008, a wendigo is a major encounter. I suspect that either the author (Greg A. Vaughn), or one of the editorial staff had seen Frostbiter, as the setup involves a cabin haunted by dwarven cannibal ghosts who all killed and ate each other due to a wendigo’s influence. This wendigo is a hybrid of the Blackwood and Cree versions in terms of its MO: it is a cannibal ice spirit that wants to make more cannibals, and does so by abducting people and running off into the sky with them. Its design is the standard for what most Western artists depict wendigos as these days: an emaciated humanoid with the head and antlers of a deer (and the burned off feet of Algernon Blackwood, which are less common):

Image by Tyler Walpole, © Paizo Publishing

This wendigo definitely made a splash at the time; it was the first time I remember seeing a deer-headed wendigo, and art of that design started to become common. It pushed away previous wendigo depictions, which were typically werewolves (as French Canadian trappers had blended the concept with their own loup-garou, and Werewolf the Apocalypse had a whole faction of racist Native American “wendigos”) or shaggy and ape like (based more on the look of the Marvel Comics villain).

What turned wendigos from “folklore/horror monster” to “fandom blorbo” was Hannibal, which first aired in 2013. In that series, the first murder is a woman’s body impaled on a stag’s head, after which protagonist Will Graham has visions of a black stag, and a man with the antlers of a stag, representing murder, evil, and of course the cannibalistic murderer Hannibal Lecter.

Since Hannibal was super popular with the shipping fandom set, wendigo themed characters became popular in its wake, creating a wholly new way to culturally appropriate the wendigo. This was magnified by Over the Garden Wall, which came out in 2014, and its villain The Beast. The Beast is never called a wendigo, but is an antlered giant associated with winter, and so is commonly head-canoned as a wendigo and associated with them in fandom circles.

Which gets us to the modern day, where teenagers have misunderstood wendigo OCs, any character with antlers can be called a wendigo on the internet, and actual First Nations people with an actual cultural connection to the legend wish that people would just knock it off.

#and now you know #wendigo #windigo #witiko #creature design #art history #pathfinder rpg #algernon blackwood #august derleth #cthulhu mythos #stephen king #b movies #stop motion #hannibal #native american #first nations #cultural appropriation #long post

2K notes · View notes

bucknastysbabe · 1 year

Note

Can you make Maegor smut i can barely find any

I shall try my hand, I apologize for the 90 year wait. This was very fun and I hope you don’t mind the dark themes :) This goes out to you, dear anon, and Big Daddy fan #1 @fairysluna

And you sluts too: @borikenlove @aemondsversion @ilikeitbetterangsty @lovelykhaleesiii @godrakin @xfancyuu

Rating: EXPLICIT READ WARNINGS

Tags: TW: non-con, blood, knives, restraints, rituals and implied soul magic, background sacrifice, forced impregnation, dissociation, Maegor needs an heir still, black bride!reader, voyuerism, size kink, sex pollen/drugging, he’s a bit fond of her for now, Targs using old Valyrian magic, pnv!sex, creampie

Belly of the Beast

Huge armored Kingsguard drug you beneath the bowels of Maegor’s labyrinthian complex, your feet dragging along the ground. You’d ceased fighting two layers ago. Tyanna of the tower glared down at you, raven hair almost shining in the gloomy light. She was clad in a deep purple satin dress, pale face pinched. The rumored sorceress hummed, “You’ll do fine. We need an heir. Stop fighting it, I see it in those bovine eyes of yours.”

You whimpered in pain, feet and shins ragged from the rough treatment. Maegor was no where to be seen. You had only see him on your wedding night, the beast splitting you open and depositing his seed before leaving. When it appeared your womb had not quickened, the guards had seized you in the night. Which led to now. Something sinister curling in the air, the dark glow of the lanterns casting the halls in a murky bloody tint.

Tyanna took a left, disappearing. The guards dragged you onwards, pulling you into a rounded room. Your heart beat wildly with terror. What was this place? It reminded you of the paintings of old Valyria. Oily black stone fused by horrid magicks into bestial creatures. Tall columns twirled with blood wyrms, casting their evil gaze upon you. You cried out in fear, but your mouth was covered with thick bound rope, irritating and dry.

In the middle of the room lay an elongated stone plinth, blood smeared in unreadable lettering. Maegor waited like a hungry lion, huge muscles rippling with every movement. You could see his purple eyes dragging along your bound frame, obscene cock twitching at the site. He boomed, “Put her on the table.”

You stopped struggling again in a state of shock. You weren’t sure if they were going to kill you. Ser Darklyn and Bracken hauled you upright, placing your body on the bloody slab. Maegor shooed them off, locking each of your limbs in some sort of mechanism. He thumbed one of your teats, growling, “Such a fertile body, we’ll get a heir my littlest queen.” You gazed up at the gnarled ceiling, depicting unspeakable things and creatures. You whimpered softly as Maegor undid your gag, rumbling, “There, now they can hear your delightful crying.”

There was a balcony and there stood the dowager Queen Visenya and Tyanna. Visenya’s face was hardened, her hands covered in more blood. She called down, “Do not be afraid girl, this is a new beginning. You will give Maegor the dragon we so desperately need. Think of it as a gift.”

You nodded yes but your mind howled and tore itself apart at the seams. This was not a gift. This was an abomination. You thought of home, the seaside and the barking seals. Not this perverted facsimile of a sept. Visenya barked, “Give her the draught, my king.”

“With pleasure”, he smirked. The beast of a man stalked back to your side, a hand twice the size of your head caressing back your sweaty hair. He murmured, “Open up, you might be my true queen.” You did as so, opening your lips and drinking the thick liquid. It tasted horrid, you fought back a retch before Maegor’s hard lips forced it’s way on top. He smothered you, another huge hand squeezing the soft flesh of your hips.

There was no more you could do as he climbed on top, muscled trunks of thighs splitting yours open, tongue probing your mouth. He grabbed at your hair, biting and sucking roughly down your neck. He murmured, “Close now.” Visenya began to chant in an abnormal sounding tongue of Valyrian. Your skin felt hot to the touch, the glyphs on the walls seeming to glow.

A wave of intense arousal flowed up from your toes to head, making you whine in anguish. The sensation so intense you wrapped your legs around the king’s scarred waist and thrust your profusely leaking cunt up. Locked under the arousal your ego stood trapped, screaming for help. Instead you moaned, “Breed me my king, please, it hurts!” Maegor’s hard set eyes rolled some, his beard scratching your bloodied neck.

He chuckled darkly, “I’ll give it to you little bride of mine, fill that tiny cunt of yours, not waste a gods damned drop.” Pale calloused hands wrapped around your waist, almost encircling you. You bucked underneath him, slick pussy dragging ever so again Maegor’s huge cock. From above, Tyanna and Visenya’s stark faces disappeared as you refocused on him.

Your king, your stud, the one to fill your womb up so you can give him baby after baby. Simply a broodmare for the taking. You arched your full tits against his impossibly built chest, whining at the drag across his body hair. Maegor nuzzled at your collarbones, humming, “It’s so…delightful to watch you squirm. I could break your pretty bones into dust y’know?”

Tears burned at your eyes, the ache between your legs becoming a heady burning. In a warble you begged, “Please, do anything my king, need it, wan’ your cock, pleasepleaseplease!” Openly sobbing now, the brutish king moaned in delight, cock swelling further from your pretty tears and swollen lips. He spanned a hand down your writhing body to land on the base of his cock. Maegor grabbed the Valyrian steel knife and nicked the thin skin of his cock, grunting in annoyance as it began to drip blood.

He tossed the knife callously aside and grabbed your wide hips, shoving his cock in to the hilt. The pair of you cried out, the loud howl echoing in the dim chamber. Maegor growled, “Fucking- fuck! Tight little bride you are, felt ya’ split. Bleeding pretty on my cock.” You weren’t even registering the loss of your maidenhead, hyperfocused on the wonderful feeling of your untouched walls accommodating and stretching for Maegor’s girth. He paused in awe, patting your lower stomach.

Maegor rasped, “Look at this, can see my cock through you. Fucking hell.”

He fucked like the bull they called the king, powerful thrusts sliding you through the tacky blood. Maegor grunted and cursed, muscles flexing and glistening. He panted, “It’ll take, it’ll take, good little girl.” You begged softly, “My arms, my King, please!” In a flurry of movement he unchained you, pulling your smaller frame onto those sinful thighs of his. You rolled onto him like a brothel whore, bouncing and humping, growling and scratching.

He pulled you into a kiss, snarling, “They always said the untouched ones were the hungriest for it,” his hand came down on your ass with a loud crack! Mewling onto his hard lips you embraced the sweet pain, body still on fire with need, need, need. Maegor cursed again and rumbled, unhooking your feet and manhandling you face down on the slab, jerking your ass up into the air.

Your fingers scrabbled as Maegor quickly reentered your pussy, groaning in pleasure. “See, please him, be the bearer of that strong seed,” said your addled mind. The claps of Maegor’s hips echoed against your softer ass, him swiping a hand across with a smarmy look. He cruelly cooed, “Yeah? You like your king stuffing your sweet cunt full of seed? Mmm, when you’re all rounded out I’ll fuck another into you right after. You’re mine.”

“Yours, yours,” you whimpered deliriously.

He pulled you tighter and drug his thick cockhead across a spot you didn’t know existed, eliciting a guttural moan. One big hand locked around your slim throat, the other sneaking to that throbbing bud between your legs. You squealed and squirmed, the nerve endings sparking like wild fire across your used frame.

“No, you take it,” he snarled.

And take it you did, crying and whimpering as your belly tightened and tightened, whole body erupting in goosebumps. Your legs gave out but Maegor kept you aloft moving his huge arm from neck to your tits. In a trembly caterwaul of his name you clamped down on his thick cock and gushed on him and the bloody mess below. Maegor gasped and stuttered, sharp canines locking into your shoulder. His strokes dug deep in shallow, sloppy thrusts.

He practically roared when the load of spend painted your overspent cunt. Load after load while he cooed praise and panted in your ear. The fervor that once gripped you had abated, leaving you a boneless mess, emotions comparable to a husk. Maegor felt around for something then bent you over, shoving in a plug of sorts as soon as his cock exited. He patted your ass and rumbled, “I’m feeling blessed by the Gods today. You shall come wash up with me in my chambers, littlest bride.”

Tyanna was gone.

Visenya called down once more, “Splendid. Let’s hope the seed takes, girl.”

Maegor proudly carried you through the underbelly and up to his quarters in the red keep, showing your mottled, blood soaked body off. You went to somewhere quieter in your mind. A seaside cliff. Salty air. Seals barking. Home.

#hotd fanfic #maegor x reader #hotd smut #Maegor targaryen smut

618 notes · View notes

chocsra · 5 months

Text

"Playing with Balls are Not For The Weak (Pause on that.)"

15! basketball plyr! chuuya x gn! reader - HIGHSCHOOL AU, HEADCANONS + DRABBLES

a/n: as per request, thank you @sstarshroom my pookie ☺️, sincere apologies for the title its my toilet humor. next week will be dazai content im sorry my dear dazai fans

content: headcanons, drabbles, fluff, slowburn, pre-relationship,"in a world of boys, hes a gentleman", chuuya as them short hoopers, relationship of these two actually sucking at life, cheeky and smug chuuya, idiots in love, dumbass behaviour

as a classmate, chuuya would have a pretty big friendgroup but only really hang out with a few select people;

in class, he's quiet and focuses on school;

he's also naturally smart, a good 80s-90s student without much effort;

chuuya takes academics seriously but since he doesn't really have to work his ass off to study, he wouldn't be competitive in school, so sorry to all the academic rivals to lovers girlys

you know what he would take seriously though, sports.

and it's not even the serious shit, you could play dodgeball and he's sweating his ass off;

so certified hotshot of the school, short king energy, okay.

Your teacher tediously writes away on a few documents of paper, adjusting his glasses with the flick of his hand. "We have a few boxes from the food drive," he announces, catching the attention of your working classroom. "I need a strong person to carry them to the office, pleas-" a loud smack of a laptop closing can be heard, "MEMEME!!" the class goes silent, staring as your classmate, Chuuya Nakahara, happily voluneer to deliver a few boxes.

okay, okay, so as a classmate, people either think he's slightly irritating or alright, it's another story in gym class though, nobody likes him.

"Pass the ball- PASS THE BALL!" Chuuya yells, you couldn't lie; him wrapping a piece of red cloth around his head like some kind of warrior was sorta concerning? No, really concerning. The small boy leeches his arms out as defense, concentration written all over his face. You dribble the basketball a few times, about to pass it to him. "I said pass it!!" he shouts, rude. You furrow your brows in offense before harshly throwing the ball in his direction, aiming for his head.

Unfortunately, throwing basketballs at your own team player's forehead didn't result in an instant win. As you two sat on the bench, watching the current game along sidelines as Chuuya rubs his temple with an icepack, his red headband cloth resting atop of his knee, focussing intentively. When your team has been declared lost, he clenched the icepack in his hand and starts profusely running around the gym, mourning a gym class basketball game.

I mean, it's not like he's a terrible person though, you've seen the guy, he can be nice, he's got it in his system. Like one time in gym class, dodgeball specifcally.

"Ow! The fuck?" yet another dread of gym class was at your service, the heated air of dodgeballs flying left and right through the air overwhelmed you to say the least. And one of those balls just hit you right on the head, you pensively rub your temple, hearing a loud "You're out!!" from the opposing team.

Curse words roll off your tongue in embarrassment, about to do the walk of shame to the bench until a hand rests on your shoulder. "Hey," you twist your head around, seeing Chuuya approach you, as everyone else fights like their damn lives depended on it. "Did the ball hit your head?" he asks, the boy had short copper locks that framed his face pretty nicely, this time there wasn't a red cloth tied around his head.

"Yea," you quip, turning away from him, the hand on your shoulder lifts as you feel soft fingers brush away some of your hair from the side of your face. "Yeah, that's not allowed, you're still in the game, okay?" the redhead assures you as he casually takes a quick look at your temple. You nod releuctantly, as he pats your shoulder again a few times before smugly continuing the game. Since when did Chuuya Nakahara abide the rules?

You know, there seems to be a reaccuring pattern between you two. Everytime you're near each other, someone always get hit in the face with a ball.

But, there seemed to be more casual conversations, ones that didn't include violence with sports equipment.

As a friend, Chuuya was teasing, he always said no to what you asked him to do, but ends up doing it anyway.

"Can you hold my bag?" you ask, "No." the redhead says as he grabs your bag anyway

but as a friend, he came with more benefits. a trustable walking partner.

It's that time of the season, December, where snow engulfed every pathway you walked on. It was one of those days after school, walking home in the freezing cold; but today was unlucky, you were caught in a snow storm. And apparently, your friendgroup is nowhere to be found.

To be honest, walking alone is kind of scary, intimidating, terrifiying. You would run, but ice was everywhere, tripping in public wouldn't be any better than fear.

You saw a black jacket, red scarf, and a backpack with soccer keychains and a massive waterbottle. Most obvious feature, was the black gloves the figure wore. "Chuuya!" you call out, the boy almost immediately spins around, nodding to you as a greeting. "What's up?!" he flashes a cheeky smile, the redhead was pretty far away from you, and you weren't just interested in a simple 'hello'.

"Can you walk with me?" you ask, shoving your hands in your pockets from the cold. The redhead doesn't falter his smile, not hearing you as he had earphones on. "What?" he asks, communicating with you whilst walking backwards; some assholes just don't care about splitting your head open on ice.

"Can you walk with me?!" you repeat, the ginger stops in his tracks, muttering an "ohhh" as he speeds towards you. Again, some assholes just don't care about their life. And so, Chuuya doing a quick slip and drop onto the sidewalk, in a snowstorm, whilst running to you would be the outcome of this story.

...

You immediately start laughing your ass off, watching as any smugness on his face completely disapates. Accepting defeat in every form. "Fuck!" you cackle, slapping your knee. You attempt to skedaddle to him, still laughing before.. Slip. You fall onto him, your elbow piercing his ribs, the boy chokes out a cry of pain before you laid together on the ground in pure defeat. You know what passing by cars thought of when they saw you two? Two teenagers laying on the ground, 'X' style, in the middle of a fucking snowstorm.

You made it home safely, having to make your friend and classmate, Chuuya Nakahara, hot chocolate as an apology.

yeah, having chuuya as your friend can get pretty hefty, and violence is all that seems to be thrown at your friendship;

as a friend, you and chuuya didn't feel like friends sometimes, it was weird;

he constantly asked you to come to his games, in all honesty - you were too busy or just felt like staying home;

there was one day though, you did come to his game, out of pure curiousity

and when he saw your face, accompanied with a wave, the teenager knew; he was inlove.

he was really bad at showing it though

After enough convincing, you finally showed up to another one of Chuuya's games, you've already once; but apparently this one was really important.

You were actually concentrating, it was getting really heated, time was getting thiner, and the scores were relatively even.

The crowd roared as Chuuya took the ball, running through the court with a focussed but cheeky look on his face.

Just as he reached the net, he yelled out the loudest, unexpected sentence.

"[Y/N]! This one's for you!!"

The crowd's jaw drops in shock and anticipation, whoosh, he missed miserably.

damn, you guys really suck.

#Spotify #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #15 chuuya #chocsra #chuuya nakahara #bsd x reader #15 light novel bsd #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #idiots in love

167 notes · View notes

jtl-fics · 7 months

Text

Fluent Freshman - Part 40

The Winter Banquet.

Where the Spring Championship announcements happen for Collegiate Exy. A formal event meant to allow the ERC to showcase how their stars weren’t just brutes on the court. Look at how beautiful and handsome they all were. Look at how they danced together. Look at the smiles and laughter and-

Wait.

No.

Put that down.

Who had the great idea to put the Jackals next to the Terrapins? Things have been tense between the teams since the Captain of the Terrapins stole the Captain of the Jackal’s date during the Fall Banquet!

I thought we all agreed that there would never be any more steak knives! What was the point of paying for all the pre-cut tenderloins if we’re just going to give them steak knives?!

Really gotta find an intern to pin this fiasco on.

Oh great the Foxes are leaving! Did we even get a picture of Kevin Day in his suit? Fuck it’s going to be a two intern firing kind of day isn’t it.

Someone get an eye on the Ravens before they try and grab some hapless idiot and sacrifice him to revive Riko Moriyama. If there’s even one more damn tabloid with a blurry photo of ‘Riko Moriyama’ to prove that his death was faked then heads will roll.

Honestly, the biopic that some Edgar Allan Film student is making about him seems pretty interesting. The ERC just wishes people would stop taking pics of the ‘lead actor’ and sending it to tabloids as proof that the King hadn’t died.

Fuck, the Foxes left before we got any decent pictures.

Well just great.

You’d think that after all these years of the Foxes leaving early they’d have learned that getting pictures as they arrive is the most important thing.

Oh thank god it looks like the Trojans are starting to mediate the fight. You can always count on good ol’ Jeremy.

Fuck.

A Raven got too close to Jean Moreau and now Jeremy Knox has punched a Backliner. Great. The Trojans have formed ranks around Moreau but the kid’s just too damn tall. Someone has hit him in the head with an especially saucy meatball, he’s not injured, just confused. The Trojans are acting like it’s a gunshot he just took to the head.

The refreshment table just seemed to collapse in on itself and god wasn’t that just an allegory for this entire damn evening.

Anita Flores sighs as she watches yet another banquet go down in a riot. Honestly, she doesn’t know why they think these will end up differently. She finds herself often missing when she used to coordinate banquets for football teams.

She sighs and thinks about her least favorite interns.

Alex had been getting a bit too cocky lately. He’d make a good sacrifice.

***

(Three hours earlier)

The Palmetto State Foxes were on their way to the Winter Banquet. From what FF understood it was categorically always a 90% chance of a shitshow. Honestly FF was surprised that the percentage was that low.

There was a general tenseness in the air surrounding it that went beyond the Banquet’s propensity to become a fight.

This year the Winter Banquet was going to be held up at the Binghamton Bearcat’s stadium. The nation knew the story from the news and FF knew the story from both that and from the Foxes themselves who were there at the time in bits and pieces.

Captain Neil had been kidnapped from this stadium and then he’d been tortured. FF hadn’t even been on the team when it had happened and he was anxious about Captain Neil going anywhere near the stadium.

“He was just…he was just gone.” Matt had said, “Neil was gone and Kevin said that he was probably dead when Andrew got back with his phone.” He continued as the two of them sat up late in the living room of the dorm one night back in early October.

“I thought Andrew was going to kill me y’know.” Kevin had said bottle in hand as FF tried to help him up the stairs because apparently he would 100% guarantee vomit if he was in the nausea box. “I thought that maybe I deserved it, since I didn’t help Neil. I just let him walk to his death.” He said and despite assurances that he wouldn’t puke FF’s shoes did not make it through that journey unscathed.

“We called…we called everywhere.” Nicky had stared up at the ceiling of his hospital room, “Andrew was adamant that he was still alive even though Kevin kept saying he was dead and that dead was the nicest thing he could hope for. I thought that was a terrible thing to say.” Nicky curled up closer to him.

“I told you, Andrew dragged me like I was nothing to get to Neil. I don’t think he even noticed the guns.” Wymack said to Abby as the two sat on the back porch during Aras’ going away party. “His eyes were on Neil.” he gestures towards where Andrew was watching Captain Neil wrestle with Matt.

“He looked like shit.” Aaron had said unable to stomach a diagram of different degrees of burn in his medical book. “At least he was alive.” He adds.

“A hero.” Andrew’s voice had been what could be considered teasing from Andrew, “Someone who looks like her.” he had said touching Captain Neil’s burn scars as they drove away from the stadium after coming back to pick FF up.

Captain Neil had come to him the day before they were set to drive out, “Take me somewhere no one will find me for an hour.” FF hadn’t quite understood what Captain Neil meant, he never hid anywhere. People just failed to realize where he was.

“Ok.” he says instead of trying to explain because being unnoticed means no one hid codes from him.

The roof of the Library wasn’t that much different from the roof of the Tower, only that it was taller and bigger. Captain Neil had shut his phone off after texting something, likely to Andrew, and then put it into his pocket.

FF settled on the roof, sat with his back against a heating vent to stay warm. Captain Neil settled next to him and they sat in silence. It felt like back at the start of this where Captain Neil and Andrew would come find him and just sit in silence.

It was nice. He had missed-

“They act like the stadium is the thing that kidnapped me.” Captain Neil says.

Oh okay, quiet time is over apparently.

FF doesn’t say anything, figuring that nothing he could say right now would be the right thing and maybe Captain Neil just needs to talk through some stuff.

“That stadium is where I thought I’d have my last good memory.” Captain Neil explains, “I’m not scared of it and yet Andrew’s acting like I’ll die if I’m left alone for more than 2 seconds while we’re there. Every time we go there they all act like the most important thing in the world is that I get on that bus at the end of the night.” Captain Neil explains.

FF does remember how Andrew had grabbed Captain Neil after their October game up in Binghamton. How Captain Neil had complained bitterly but had gone after looking at Andrew.

“He’s dead!” Captain Neil exclaimed and FF couldn’t help but look over at the entrance and hoped no one heard them. “He’s dead! I watched him get shot! He can’t kidnap me again!” Captain Neil continued to yell and FF couldn’t help but worry that they’d be heard below, or worse bother a student trying to study below.

FF reached out and touched Captain Neil’s arm and bright blue eyes turned to him, “We’re on a library. Don’t yell.” FF said and Captain Neil looked at him incredulously.

Then he laughed. He laughed and laughed and FF was worried that he’d gone and broken his Captain.

He suddenly felt bad about his own bout of hysterical laughter a while back.

“Thanks Smith.” Captain Neil had said with a smile.

They had sat up there until it was dark and Andrew had started calling FF’s phone and Captain Neil took the call to say he was coming back.

Now they’re on the bus, dressed nicely, and on their way up to Binghamton’s stadium. Captain Neil and Andrew are hidden in the far back of the bus with Andrew looking far more like a watchdog than anything else the closer they got to their destination.

Captain Neil had seemed largely resigned to this treatment at this point. Eventually they were at the stadium and shown to their seats. They were sat across from the Trojans and it seemed like the rest of the team was quite pleased with that.

“Smith!” Captain Jeremy Knox is smiling at him, “Nice to see you again bud, nice name change too.” he says.

“It’s nice to see you too, Captain Jeremy.” FF says and doesn’t notice how Captain Neil’s head whips around to look at him.

“You two know each other?” Nicky asks looking between the two of them with excitement.

“Of course! We offered Smith a spot at the USC Trojans.” Captain Jeremy says and FF feels his stomach cramp at the memory.

That had been terrifying.

Coach Rheman and Captain Jeremy wanted to sit down to make their offer with his parents. He was still 17 and unable to sign anything legal without their permission. He’d tried to decline and move past them and Captain Jeremy had put the final nail in the coffin at the time for any thought that he could go to college on the power of his apparent Exy capabilities.

“I saw in your file that you have brothers! USC always gives a second look at student applicants who already have siblings in the university. You could go to school with your brothers!” he had smiled brightly like he wasn’t issuing FF one of the most terrifying threats he’d ever heard in his entire life.

He had given the firmest ‘No thank you, I’m not interested in playing Exy in college.’ he could and was running to his Grandma’s to breath into a bag for twenty minutes.

“I see you changed your mind about playing Exy in college.” Captain Jeremy said with the same smile that still feels like a threat.

“Coach Wymack and Captain Dan were convincing.” he says and looks to see if there’s any way he can move further away from Captain Jeremy’s attention.

“Can I ask what convinced you to be a Fox?” Captain Jeremy asks, “I’m always trying to see what support we should be offering. I found out last year that we missed out on Andrew because we didn’t offer spots to Aaron or Nicky. I thought since you had brothers that’d be the thing that got you.” Captain Jeremy leans across the table but stops when he notices the Foxes all tense. “Whoa, what’s up?” he asks.

Jean Moreau sighs from next to Captain Jeremy, “Not everyone wants to go to college with their family, Jeremy.” Jean says, “Did it not cross your mind that he changed his entire name?” he asks with a raised brow.

Jeremy blinks, “Oh,” he looks at FF, “I guess that wasn’t the right thing to offer.” he says leaning back in his chair.

“I guess I should thank you for offering that?” Nicky says wryly before turning to look at FF, “You look better in orange anyways.” he says.

“Thank you Nicky.” FF returns loyally.

The banquet gets started shortly afterwards. Food is served. The bar is opened. People are talking. FF finds himself relaxing the longer the conversations around him go on. Matt is talking with a backliner on the Trojan line named Todd in good cheer. Captain Neil, Kevin, and Jean are all talking about the latest updates with Ichirou in French with the occasional gesture towards FF. Jean Moreau looks at him with a raised eyebrow but gives him a single nod when Captain Neil explains what happened.

Jeremy is chatting with Jack and even Jack was finding it hard to maintain his usual level of rudeness in the face of such unbridled positive energy. Nicky was talking with Katelyn and Alvarez. Aaron was chatting with a fellow med student college athlete who was an offensive dealer.

It was shaping up to be a good night.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

#Fluent Freshman AU #Jeremy Knox essentially threatening FF on accident #With a huge smile #Fucking kills me #Winter Banquet getting into full swing #Ya'll know where it's heading but not all the parts that happen #Foxes are on high alert #No one likes Neil being in Binghamton #There was definitely an all-hands meeting about how Neil is not allowed to go anywhere alone #That if a security guard approaches Neil you treat that security guard like an active threat #Nicky just thinks it's Andrew wanting an excuse to hold his BF's hand all night #Andrew: “Smith you're on covert operations. Keep an eye out for threats.”#FF: “Aye aye Captain.”#Neil: “OH SO NOW HE'S A CAPTAIN TOO? WHAT'S NEXT?!”#Neil is butt hurt about the whole “Captain Jeremy” thing #He could accept it for Dan #But JEREMY?#Neil's gonna need a lot of TLC to get over this betrayal TBFH #In adult news #My closing is next week Friday!#Wooo #I really speedran the whole owning property thing #Thank you bullshit luck #AFTG #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #Andreil #Wow 40 parts on this thing #Still wild #Thanks for joining me on this ride

218 notes · View notes

reystenius-01 · 25 days

Text

My Body Hurts

some stina fluff after the england sweden game yesterday!

-----

Playing in front of 60,000 plus people was always something you would never get used to. You had been exposed to sell out crowds before, as you were an Arsenal player. Majority of your games this season had been played at the Emirates Stadium, which was a win in itself and for women’s sports.

Now, you were playing for country. Due to the Arsenal connection, you and Alessia were starting up front. You wouldn’t be playing the full 90, since you were just coming back from an injury. England were playing Sweden at Wembley, the first match in the defence of the Lionesses European Champion status.

You had been on the bench in this exact stadium during the Euros Final, picking up a knock in the semi-finals against the very team you were now facing. You had initially been distraught at the time, wanting to see out the tournament and contribute to a win. But your worries about whatever your injury was and the overwhelming emotion that came with making it to the finals of the Euros faded into the background of your mind when you saw your girlfriend, Stina Blackstenius, with tears brimming in her eyes.

She had spotted you being hoisted onto Lucy’s back in a piggyback, despite you being told by the physios to take it easy (you were given crutches). Though the smile on your face and the sound of your laugh as you swatted at Lucy’s shoulder did soothe the pain in Stina’s heart created by the loss, she wanted nothing more than to bury herself in your arms, perhaps even defy biology and crawl into your skin and just become one body with you.

As the national anthems echoed around the stadium, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. The familiar strains of “God Save the King” stirred something deep within you, reminding you of the weight of representing your country on such a grand stage.

Alessia flashed you a reassuring smile as the crowd erupted into cheers after the anthems were played and the players had their own huddles before dispersing towards their positions.

The atmosphere in Wembley was electric as the match kicked off. The game was fast-paced and intense, with both teams displaying skill and determination. In around the 24th minute, Alessia pounced on a lovely ball from LJ, heading it past the keeper and in. England took the lead.

“That's my girl!” you shouted, clapping Alessia on the back as you celebrated the goal.

But the joy was short-lived as Sweden fought back in the second half, relentlessly pressing forward in search of an equalizer. Despite your best efforts, they managed to find the back of the net, levelling the score at 1-1.

As the match wore on, you could feel the tension mounting on the field. With every missed opportunity, the pressure seemed to grow, weighing heavily on your shoulders.

In the 75th minute, the official raised the sub board in the air, your and Alessia’s shirt numbers being displayed in red, meaning you two were being substituted. As you made your way to the sidelines, your heart raced with anticipation and anxiety.

Taking a seat on the bench and downing some electrolyte drink that had been shoved into your hand, you watched with bated breath as the game unfolded before you.

Stina was a constant presence in your thoughts, her image burned into your mind's eye. Then, in the later stages of the game, Stina found herself with a one-on-one opportunity in front of the goal. You held your breath as she took aim, half of you hoping she’d score and the other half praying Mary got to it.

But as the shot sailed wide, narrowly skidding past the post, you couldn't help but feel a pang of relief mixed with empathy for Stina. You knew how much this game meant to her, just as it did to you.

As the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the match, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you. Relief at the draw, disappointment at not securing the win, and empathy for Stina's miss.

You and the other girls on the bench got up to congratulate the girls on the pitch and do all the other formalities like the team talk, thanking the fans, and all sorts. As you were helping Hempo out with a cramp near the dugout, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a yellow kit coming towards you. After helping her to her feet, you turned around, smiling at the sight of your girlfriend, who was accompanied by Rosa Kafaji, a young player that had done a ton for Hacken in the group stages of the Champions League.

Once Hempo was on her feet, you turned fully to face Stina, a wide smile spreading across your face. “Hey, love,” you greeted her, your voice soft with affection.

Stina returned your smile, though there was a hint of hesitation in her eyes. “Hey,” she replied, her gaze flickering to the other players milling about nearby.

You sensed her apprehension and took a step closer, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from her face. “My body hurts, love. Don't make me beg,” you teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

A soft chuckle escaped Stina's lips, and she finally closed the distance between you, wrapping her arms around you in a tight embrace. “I missed you,” she murmured against your ear, her voice filled with warmth.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back, squeezing her tightly before reluctantly pulling away. “How have you been?”

Stina shrugged, a hint of exhaustion tugging at her features. “Tired, but good.”

You nodded in understanding, knowing all too well the demands of being a professional athlete. “Well, hopefully, you can get some rest now,” you said, offering her a supportive smile. “before Tuesday.”

As you spoke, Rosa approached, a nervous energy emanating from her. “Um, hi,” she said, her voice tentative. “Would you mind swapping shirts with me? It would mean a lot.”

Stina draped an arm over Rosa's shoulders, the youngster looking at you hopefully as Stina smiled at you. You chuckled, “Of course.” Rosa’s face practically lit up, Stina playfully jostling her around as the two of you peeled off your shirts.

It took every fibre in Stina’s body not to shamelessly ogle your body, especially right in front of her young teammate. She’d let Rosa have this one. You pulled on Rosa’s shirt and she pulled on yours, a photographer popping up out of nowhere to take a photo of the pair of you.

“We’re doing a lap of the pitch, see you later?” You turned to Stina, who squeezed your hand and nodded.

“You're coming to my hotel, right?” Stina asked, pulling you back just as you were about to join your teammates on a walk around the pitch to thank the fans.

You grinned at Stina's question, a playful glint in your eyes. “Wouldn't miss it for the world,” you replied, squeezing her hand in return. “I'll be there as soon as I can.”

Stina's lips curved into a mischievous smile as she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Good, because I have plans for you,” she murmured, her breath warm against your ear.

Your heart raced at the promise in her words, a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins. “Oh, do you now?” you teased, unable to resist leaning in closer to her. “Care to give me a hint?”

Stina's laughter tinkled like music in your ears as she nodded, her gaze sparkling with mischief. “Mmmhmm,” she hummed, her fingers trailing lightly along your arm. “Let's just say, you won't be getting much sleep, pretty girl.”

You chuckled, feeling a thrill of excitement at the prospect of spending the evening with Stina. “I like the sound of that,” you confessed, unable to hide the eagerness in your voice.

With a playful wink, Stina released your hand, stepping back to join Rosa as they made their way towards the locker rooms. “I'll see you later, love,” she called over her shoulder, a smirk playing on her lips.

You watched her go, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you turned to rejoin your teammates. Despite the exhaustion of the match, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of spending the evening with Stina.

As you waved and smiled at the cheering fans, your thoughts were already drifting ahead to the evening ahead, and the promise of being in Stina's arms once more.

#woso community #stina blackstenius #woso one shot #woso fluff #arsenal wfc

99 notes · View notes

megu-meow · 4 months

Text

Bulls**t - Gojo Satoru

gojo satoru x non-specified reader

I don’t think I used any gender specific pronouns or character descriptions, however, I have written this with female reader in mind.

Summary: Gojo Satoru is the king of making up stuff. There is one thing he keeps saying that is actually true tho.

Gojo Satoru is a knowledgeable guy, especially when it comes to Jujutsu sorcery and the history of it. He is also the type of person to have many interests. He spends hours learning about his favorite topics and has an opinion about everything. When people bring up stuff he doesn't know about he listens carefully and is deeply invested in the conversation, and once he has enough free time he will read and learn everything about the subject matter so that the next time he can be an active part of the conversation. That is the sole reason why people never question all the random shit he says. You see, Gojo Satoru enjoys messing with people more than anything. Hence, he makes up random facts and stories and he is insanely talented in delivering them with such confidence that they are easy to believe.

One time in high school he managed to convince Shoko that the famous J-Pop idol from the late 90s, Ayumi Hamasaki, was his half-sister. He spent 15 minutes explaining to the young healer that before his mother met his father, she had an affair with a man from Fukuoka named Netero Hamasaki and got pregnant. According to Gojo, his mother was young and had to give up on the child, but Hamasaki-san was more than willing to raise her with his wife who was unable to have children. The special grade sorcerer also explained to his classmate that his mother and Netero were not getting along, because after Ayumi became famous they started ignoring the rest of the family and they became too full of themselves. Shoko listened to Satoru's words in awe, eating up every single word leaving his lips. Two days later, a very excited Yu Haibara approached him, begging for an autograph from Ayumi, which resulted in Gojo telling everyone the truth, resulting in a deeply annoyed and humiliated Shoko.

In another instance, he made Megumi believe that he was supposed to have a pelican Shikigami right after he got his demon dogs. He also showed the young, impressionable boy a series of goofy hand gestures and dance moves that were "supposed to summon the pelican, the most powerful shikigami of the Zenin clan's ten shadows technique". Poor Megumi spent a week going around night and day, doing the insane moves taught by the special-grade idiot who was supposed to take care of him, but the pelican never appeared. However, Gojo enjoyed the situation way too much, bursting out in uncontrollable fits of laughter every time he caught the raven-haired boy while he was trying with all his might to summon his second Shikigami. Thankfully, Principal Yaga cleared the air one time he was taking care of the child while Gojo was out on a mission, however, Megumi never asked Satoru to help him with his technique again.

During their second year, as he and Geto were bored out of their minds with the recent missions they were sent to, the two convinced the higher-ups that they encountered a special-grade curse that injected them with some kind of venom that took away their cursed technique until further notice. This scheme included Shoko as well as she was the one to forge a medical report, claiming that a few days off in Okinawa or any beachy environment would make the toxins release from their bodies faster. The young healer made sure that she was included in the trip claiming that constant medical attention was an absolute must in the current situation. They spent a total of 10 days not doing anything on Jujutsu Tech's account.

Recently, as an assistant teacher, you witnessed how Gojo Satoru tried to convince the first years to do his chores, claiming that it would make them stronger. Yuji didn't question this ridiculous statement, given his circumstances of recently learning about the mere existence of the Jujutsu World, however, Nobara and Megumi knew better, instantly protesting doing his chores. Gojo Satoru is determined as fuck tho, so he managed to spend 30 minutes trying to change the stubborn children's minds until you intervened and dismissed them from class.

"Oh, c'mon sweetheart, I was about to break them." he whined, following you to the teacher's lounge like a lost puppy.

"You shouldn't lie to teenagers like that, Gojo. Especially not Yuji, he's in a vulnerable state, and he will believe everything you say. I know you like to come up with the most unhinged stuff, but one would think that your students were the limit of your idiotic shenanigans." you chastise.

"Everyone thinks my lies are funny though!" he exclaims, his voice laced with fake hurt.

"I doubt that." you whisper, your mind drifting towards all of the instances he claimed that he liked you and wanted to take you out on a date. You knew better than to believe anything coming out of his mouth, especially when he used the tone he always uses when he tries to sell one of his elaborate stories. You had to protect yourself from falling for him or his lies after all.

"What's wrong?" he asks. He recognizes a shift in your cursed energy, it falters and he knows you well enough to able to tell that it's because you're sad.

"Nothing, leave me alone, Gojo!"

"Nu-uh, you're the love of my life, I have to know who or what made you upset so that I can blast them across the universe with Hollow Purple."

"Stop lying, Gojo!"

"You think I'm lying??? I would never lie about my feelings for you!" he exclaims, now he's offended.

"Bullshit!"

"What do you mean bullshit?! I've liked you since day one, y/n!" he steps closer to you, lifting your chin up so that he can look you in your eyes. You are surprised to notice that his blindfold is lowered to sit around his neck, his cerulean eyes on full display. The two crystalline orbs reflect nothing but honesty and you even question how he was ever able to sell any of his lies when his eyes seem to be telling the truth at all times. Of course, he's always covering them when he's about to come up with his most unhinged stories, however, now he's confessing the most important truth of his life. "Do you believe me now, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice breaking, afraid of rejection. You nod shyly, blushing as you realize how close his pretty lips are to yours.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks enthusiastically and you don't answer, you just eliminate the small distance between you two, inviting his lips into a sweet dance with yours. His arms wrap around your hips, pulling you closer, savoring the moment he's been dreaming about for years.

Gojo Satoru has many made-up stories and anecdotes to share, but none of them can compete with the story of your first kiss. That's one he'll be telling for a long time.

#jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #gojo imagine #gojo fluff #jjk x you #gojou satoru x you #gojo saturo

125 notes · View notes