#only lost to the listening for breathing one

[thosefuzzywordfeelings]

i hope i'm not too late for the smutty weekend!!!! but i need to know how the boys (Steve, Baron and Gator) would react being caught/walked in on having sex

(also i love your writing)

Never EVER too late baby! I’ll write smut always in all fairness, i’m just a fan of alliteration 💁🏽‍♀️✨

CW; exhibitionism, bar the first one the people catching you have no idea whats happening 🤍, handjob (m receiving), oral (f receiving), car sex, being caught ofc ✨

i’m into getting caught writing this one 😮‍💨

Gator;

The dirt track. Right underneath the willow tree tunnel. Meeting place with Gator when things got tough, boring, late, needy, heated, whatever. He’d pick you up in his SUV and take you there immediately, knowing you’d drop call him specifically twice and he’d be on his way for you.

For it to end up the same every time, windows steaming - keeping them shut in fear of anyone listening. Though as Gator bent you overloaded the middle console from the backseat, the noises falling from your mouth were often loud enough to hear through soundproof glass.

“You needed this, hm?” Gator grunted, pulling your ass back against his hips; fingernails indented into the folds between hips and thighs. You’d nod, moaning out a weak “yes, sir”. This would always make him pick up the pace, rocking the car and forcing you to balance your hands on the front seats just for stability. You’d feel it climbing, the perfect ache forming in your lower tummy and he knew it.

“Can feel you baby, you close?” He’d breathe out, grinding his hips forward. With a quick tug of your hair, he pulled your head up and you immediately gasped.

“Yeah? Right there?” Gator grunted.

“Gator stop - it’s -“

“Not too much baby, you can do it -“ He carried on, too lost in you. But you reached back and pushed him off you, sitting in the furthest corner of the backseat.

“What’s wrong? You were right there -“

He quickly shut up when you pointed towards the windscreen, the low headlights illuminating none other than Roy Tillman, hat and all. He stood relaxed, hands on his hips as he waited for the two of you to realise.

“Shit. Shitshitshitshit.” Gator mumbled, pulling up his camo pants and scrambling out of the backseat door, hoping he could either make it up to his dad or at least save you from a lecture. After what looked to be the most awkward conversation ever, surprisingly Roy looked towards the car, tipping his hat and walking away. Thank god.

Steve;

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were going to hear the pitchy ding of the door bell, scared that a customer would walk in and see your head thrown back against the counter. Supposedly if they did, they’d have no idea that their video store sales assistant was tongue deep in his girlfriend. On his knees and whining against her clit as his arms wrapped around her thighs.

“What if -“

“Nobody’s coming in, honey.” He’d pull off just to say before diving back in again, somehow hungrier than before. He could stay there forever, blocking out the world and only tuning into the sounds tumbling from your lips. His mouth left you again, hands spinning your hips so your top half faced and collapsed against the Family Video desktop.

“Now you can keep look out while you come.” He growled, shuffling so he had his back against the counter so he could find comfort in your core again. Your hands gripped the edge of the counter as you felt that knot grow again, hips grinding back against his face.

With each ‘mhm’ he muttered against you, you throbbed in response. And just as that crescendo reached its highest peak, you saw her. Robin, jumping out of Vickie’s car and waving her off as she headed right towards the store.

“Steve - Steve - stop, Robin’s here, Robin’s coming - fuck -“ You mumbled nervously, trying to buck away from his mouth but he just chuckled.

“So act naturally then, Miss 4.0 Drama major.” Steve whispered cockily, mouth wrapping around your clit again as you tried to regain composure.

“Oh hey, didn’t expect you to be here so late, ignore me - Keith said he’d called nine times and no answer so I had to get my ass outta bed and come and stock check quickly. Do you know where Steve even is?” Robin rambled as she usually did, not even looking over at you as she headed straight to the first row of tapes and checking them.

You were already on the brink, but as Steve slipped two fingers inside you. “I - I uh, he was in the break - break room when I got here, I’ve just been - waiting -“

You could feel Steve smirking against you as he curled his fingers harder inside you, bringing you right over the edge as you closed your eyes and let it happen. Robin stood up.

“Oh, I’ll check. You okay?” Robin asked kindly, looking at you for a moment as you gritted your teeth and smiled softly. She headed towards the break room and Steve got up with a smug smirk, lips glistening as he giggled and wiped your mess away with the back of his hand. You fixed your skirt, hopping up on the counter and giggling with him. Robin came back out of the break room confused, sighing in relief when she saw Steve.

“Idiot, Keith’s been calling and calling you - why do you bother coming in if you don’t do anything?” Robin sighed as she slung her bag over her shoulder and headed towards the front door again.

“I got caught up.”

Baron;

Needy. Baron’s new middle name. He’d call you throughout the day, mumbling that he was just ‘checking in’ but he wanted to know where you were and how long it would be till he could see you again.

Now here you were, pressed against his chest as his back was against an incredibly wide oak tree on the outskirts of town, civilisation a short bike ride away, but away nonetheless. His head was back against the bark, brown eyes looking up at the sunlight through the trees as he felt like he was ascending.

“Still with me, darling?” You’d say softly as your lips carried on pressing to his neck, one of your hands cupping his face and the other stroking the outline of his arousal through his shorts.

“Mhm.” He mumbled sweetly, tilting his head back down to meet your gaze, his eyes hooded immediately as he saw how beautiful you looked in the afternoon sun. Mischievous twinkles in your irises as you smiled almost innocently, before your hands were unzipping the shorts and pulling them his mid-thigh.

“Oh honey - are you sure? We’re, well we’re outside and -“

“I can stop, I thought that’s what you wanted, you said on the phone and I quote, ‘if I don’t feel your hands on me, I’m riding this bike into Ron’s shop window’ end quote.” You’d say with a giggle, halting your movements.

“I did - I did say that, you’re right,” He mumbled, his drawl thicker as he grew more and more needy for you now he knew you met him just to give him the pleasure he begged for, “I want it- want you.”

Pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, you pulled away only centimetres, cupping your hand underneath your mouth and spitting crudely into your palm before gripping his cock softly.

“Now just focus on me, okay darling?” You’d reassure him, matching his smile as he nodded eagerly back, his knees almost going slack as you stroked him. Unfortunately for the pair of you, the intense and thrilling moment came to a halt as you heard a dog barking loudly, followed by the sounds of crunching leaves and women’s shrill voices cackling.

“Shit - who - why is there -“

“Baron, pull your damn pants up and kiss me.” You whispered hastily, wiping your hands on your clothes and almost screaming with shock as Baron did what you said and spun you round; your back hitting the bark as he kissed you hard.

“Ow fuck-“ You giggled against his lips, kissing him back as you opened your eyes and looked over his shoulder. A familiar face with a friend walked past with her dog and the two women clocked you both.

“Oh young lovers - Baron?” One of the ladies spoke, pulling her dog on its leash closer to her and picking it up into her arms. Baron turned halfway around, hyperaware of the heavy erection straining in his shorts as he smiled and waved haphazardly at the ladies.

“Hi. Hi Biscuit.” Baron mumbled awkwardly as he waved at the dog. Nudging his elbow into your ribs playfully as you giggled at the situation.

“You got yourself a lovely girl there, huh? I remember those days.” The two ladies stood not that far away from you both as they started reminiscing together. Baron turned his head back to look at you before looking down at his…predicament, before the two of you burst into a fit of giggles, shouting a ‘we’ll catch y’all later’ to the women and running away, Baron almost limping with the need for relief.

#need all of these scenarios actually #steve harrington #gator tillman #steve harrington smut #gator tillman smut #baron smut #baron lamram #marmalade #smut #s/s weekend #asks #steve harrington x you #gator x you #baron x you #reusing the same photo and what

[twinkletfout]

Rude boy — part.4

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You saw his eyes swell, the red tint came into view as tears started pooling in his eyes. He looked away for a moment to play it off. You wanted to calm him, cheer him up. Be there for him. But you knew it was not your place. But before you could say anything he stood up and made himself out of the bar.

You guessed that the girl didn't see him, too busy with having so much fun with her new man. Despite the pain that slightly eased, you got up and went outside. It looked like he was calming himself down, you were glad that he was actually keeping his cool. Just like the way you are, you really can't hold back your tongue.

“Calm down, big guy. Not a big of a deal, hm? Lets go—”

You should really think before you talk, only if you thought about this before you said it anyway.

“What if it is?” it was a whisper, a mumble before his voice raised, he shouted.

“What if it is!?—” his voice cracked, holding back the tears for a minute before he continued

“She can do whatever the hell she wants? Fuck around with random guys, like its nothing?— I didn't date her for her to do that, and I, I just wanted to win her back I.. I loved her.”

you stood your ground as his voice slightly lowered, if he finally came to realise the fact that she doesn't want him anymore by taking out his anger on you. You didn't mind actually, just the way your heart aches for him right now, something also healed at the same time. And you felt guilty for feeling like this.

He was so wasted, too drunk to speak or talk that now he is spewing some random things as he kept on drinking. You told the bartender to not give him anymore, but when he realised. He gave you one pouty face like he was a goddamn toddler. And oh my god was that cute. You never saw this side of him before, it's like you unlocked something new about him and you loved this side a lot more than his usual self. You smiled to yourself before you said that it was enough and helped him stand up. Putting his hand over your shoulders as you supported his weight so he could walk easier.

Getting in the taxi was such a pain in the ass, as you finally entered the hotel and booked a room for one, the prince was literally dozing off and you had to carry him to his room. Because of this one guy, you lost your entire freaking day. You dropped him on the couch as soon as you entered the room. “God you are too heavy” you mumbled to yourself, but you knew he wasn't listening, it was like he was waiting to lay somewhere to finally sleep. But at least a good night's sleep will get everything off of his mind.

“You better call me the next morning, im leavin’ “ you said as you opened the door. You weren't expecting him to get on his feet or for his hand to wrap around your waist as he closed the door with his other with a sound. “Don't leave” his breath graced your ear as it sent a shiver down your spine. “Stay the night” he said as you turned around to face him. His whiskey eyes are getting you the one drunk now and you couldn't deny it as you looked up at him. “With me”

He leaned in, his lips almost touching yours as he waited for your consent. “We shouldn't—” you whispered. “One kiss won't hurt, hm?” His lips grew into a smirk as he said. “you are drunk, you nee—” you protested trying to push him back. “Please” he practically pleaded with those cerulean eyes, that was too hard for you to resist. And the hand that you used to push him back slightly lost strength and that was the sign he was looking for his lips to meet yours. Pulling your body towards him as your back hits the door that's now closed. One of his hands undid the few buttons of his own shirt before pushing your skirt upwards. He gave random kisses down your neck, your collarbone, your cheek before he started to grow more and more impatient.

“Luna…” he mumbled against your neck, that's what it all took for you to react.

Luna? Who is that?

You brought your hand to push him away as you put your skirt down.”Luna?..” you questioned, more likely to yourself. It didn't take you much time for the picture of his blondie lover to pop in your mind. You felt a strong pang in your chest as you figured things out. “Get some rest rude boy, i should get going now” you opened the door as he suprisingly retrieved you. “Dont call me that” he said before you leave. “Its Gojo.” he told you before turning his back as he flopped onto the couch.

Everything else was a blur, you got on a taxi and went to your own appartment. Maybe it was because your were holding yourself back from overflowing with tears.

A day passed with no contact of Gojo, but he did send the money more than that you said you wanted, you spent most of your time drawing and designing your new dress, it was your dream to make a dress of your own that will satisfy your thoughts about how good it needs to turn out. Even though you never spent much time with him or new him for a long time. Gojo always had to occupy in your mind and you hated him for that.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #satorugojo #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x you #jjk fanfic

[irkimatsu]

I wanted to write a paragraph about a slow night of sex with Husk and it ballooned in a monster, oops. Here, have some romantically horny Husk/Reader rambling

Husk needs the occasional romantic night with his partner where all focus is on the two of them. It starts with the two of you bringing dinner up to his room (hopefully not something he attempted to cook), and having the room to yourselves as you eat, drink, and chat. He's already got some of his favorite mood music playing, slow jazz led by a saxophone; you know exactly what he's after, and you're more than happy to see it through with him.

After you're finished with your meal, he invites you to slow dance with him. He can linger like this forever, arms rested chastely around your waist while he occasionally gives you the most fleeting of kisses. Despite knowing how wild he can be, you know this side of him is just as genuine. It's not a facade he uses to impress you; Husk has no facades at all. He simply adores these tender moments with you just as much as the wild ones.

You love every single side of this man's adoration for you.

He never outright asks to move things to the bed; you simply find yourselves laying down around the same time his kisses become more heated. He undresses you deftly, not shredding your clothes for once; tonight's outfit is much too beautiful for him to destroy. Once you're both stripped down to underwear, he stops undressing you for a moment. He's happy to hold you close like this, touching and kissing every exposed part of you and occasionally letting his mouth tease the areas that are still covered. He's in no hurry to move things along, no matter how tense either of you are getting. Tonight is going to last. You can't call the teasing agonizing; as much as you want more, you'd never complain about the way he kisses you, complimenting every part of your body before lightly grazing his tongue over it...

Both of you are near a breaking point by the time he climbs on top of you and finishes removing both your clothes and his own. Despite being pent up, he's not letting that inner beast of his out tonight. He moves so slowly inside you, the ridges and barbs teasing your walls so deliciously. He doesn't speak much, only murmuring the occasional sweet compliment in between kisses to your lips and neck. "So good, baby... love ya... so much..." There's no dirty talk tonight, only his pure affection for you.

Your climaxes both build like gentle water, washing over you in soft waves rather than striking in an explosive burst. He lays beside you, breathing heavily, and he holds you close and kisses you.

"Doing good so far...?"

You nod as you kiss him. The two of you lay in silence for a while, and you let yourself get lost in the atmospheric music and his soft purring, his warm body holding you, wrapping his arms and wings and tail around you as if he can't have you close enough. You don't know how many times the music has looped at this point, but it fits the mood so much that you don't care how long you listen to it. That music will always make you think of your nights with him...

Eventually, he's pushing against your body. "Can we do it again?"

As soon as you agree, he's kissing you deeply as he rolls you over and makes love with you again.

You continue in that pattern for a while, cuddling and even napping a little in between lovemaking sessions. He never gets rough or crude; all he wants tonight is to be close to you, to kiss you and tell you how much he loves you, to try to give you even some of the pleasure you always give him.

Sunrise doesn't make much of a difference in hell. Oh, how he misses feeling the sun on his face as he finishes with his lover one final time, before settling down for a quiet day in. Instead, all he can get is the red sky turning just a little lighter to let him know just how long this has been going.

He lays next to you and clings to you, and a light snore lets you know that he's not moving for the next while. You pull the blanket up to give you both some privacy for when Niffty inevitably comes in to collect your dinner dishes, then settle in next to him, allowing the music and his breathing to lull you into sleep.

(No one will bother you to come downstairs today. Everyone knows by now that when that music starts playing from Husk's room, it's best to leave you guys alone until you come out on your own terms. Angel calls it "that vintage porno record".)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk huskposts #where did this come from. I just started typing and then I had this. why am I like this.

[persevereforahappyending]

Maybe in Another Life |7|

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Hunter of Artemis!Reader

Summary: You are a Hunter of Artemis, but you start to question what you truly want when you meet Clarisse and get to know her.

Warnings: Spoilers for Titans Curse

Word Count: 2.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch.6 | ch. 7

You were sitting on the edge of a cliff that hung over the lake at Camp Half-Blood. After talking to Artemis, you went back to the cabin and informed your sisters about Zoe. After telling them to be at the top of the hill and ready to leave by sunrise you left. You had been sitting on the cliff’s edge looking up at the stars ever since. You didn’t have a lot of stuff; your bag was never unpacked so you were ready to go the second Artemis came to you. You were going to take the few hours before sunrise to grieve, alone. You loved your sisters, but you had been at Zoe’s side for a thousand years, you needed a moment to yourself.

Despite the centuries of fighting by your goddess's side, despite the many sisters you watched fall in battle, it never got easier. You couldn’t deny that Zoe’s loss hit different than all the others. Zoe had been at your side since you joined the Hunters, she taught you, she trained with you, she was the one who you first met, the one who brought you to Artemis.

You knew you should have gone on the quest. If you had been on the quest maybe you could have saved Zoe, maybe it would have been you who lost their life instead. That certainly would have been for the best, Zoe was needed at Artemis’s side, she deserved to continue on, the Hunters needed their leader and that was Zoe. You were Zoe’s second, you were meant to protect her, despite what she may have said, it was your duty to make sure Zoe always returned, and you failed.

You could hear the dirt crunch behind you as someone approached. “I thought you went back to your cabin,” you said softly, not needing to turn around to know who it was.

“I couldn’t go back to sleep without making sure you were okay,” Clarisse said. You had only known her for a little less than a week, but you had never heard her speak so softly, not even to Silena, who she was arguably the nicest to. “How are you doing?”

You sucked in a breath, your eyes remained unblinking as you stared at the new constellation. Zoe always loved the stars, it’s the one thing that never changed over time, despite the years that would pass, the stars were always there. She deserved to be up there among the stars, running across the sky and watching over the Hunters as you continued your journey.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve lost a sister,” you responded, trying to stop your voice from cracking.

“That doesn’t make it easier,” she said. She was right behind you; you felt her eyes on the back of your head, but you still refused to turn around.

“No,” you whispered. “No, it doesn’t.”

Life without Zoe, you couldn’t imagine it, it didn’t seem fathomable. You always figured you’d be the first to go. You didn’t doubt your skills but with how often you put your life at risk, with how reckless you could be to accomplish your goal, you never imagined Zoe falling before you. You would trade your life for Zoe’s in a heartbeat.

You heard the slight crunching of dirt as Clarisse shifted from foot to foot. You knew she was still behind you, though you hadn’t turned around. You weren’t sure how long she intended to stay there; it wasn’t like you were good company at the moment.

“You probably want to be alone,” Clarisse mumbled. “I’m going to go. Sorry for bothering you.”

You hummed out an acknowledgment. You listened as dirt shifted beneath her feet as she turned to walk away. “Wait,” you whispered. You were sure it was barely audible but clearly, she heard you, the shifting of her feet stopped. “Stay.” Tears began to fill your eyes; you weren’t sure how long you’d be able to hold them back anymore. “Please.”

There was some slight shuffling and next thing you knew Clarisse sat beside you, her legs dangling off the ledge. You glanced down, watching as Clarisse’s hand slid silently across the dirt, her pinky out as she got closer to you but didn’t actually touch you. You slid your hand across the dirt until your pinky brushed against hers. Your entire body froze at the contact until you felt her move, slowly intertwining her pinky with yours.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there, staring up at the stars. Clarisse stayed with you the entire time, neither of you saying a word. You couldn’t deny the connection you felt with her, the comfort her presence brought you. You knew you couldn’t get attached to the feelings Clarisse brought out in you, that you shouldn’t get attached to them. You took an oath, and you would not dishonor your fallen sister by breaking that oath, you owed it to Zoe to be a better Hunter, to do better.

Morning rolled around before you knew it. You watched the sky; it was only a matter of time before the sun would start to rise. You made your way back to the cabin after your night with Clarisse, making sure to part ways before you got back to your cabin. You slung your pack over your shoulder and made sure the others had their stuff. You looked around the cabin, making sure everything was spotless until your eyes fell on the bed in the corner, Zoe’s bed. There technically weren’t assigned bunks but when it came to the Hunters, since all of you were immortal when you chose a bed it kind of became yours.

You walked over to the bed, looking down at the perfectly tucked sheets. Zoe always left her bed pristine, as if it had never been slept in. She was only at camp for one real night before she was sent on the quest, and she still managed to make her bed before leaving. You slid open the drawer of the nightstand right beside the bed. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw a silver circlet sitting in the drawer, the only thing sitting in the drawer.

“Until we meet again my sister,” you whispered, gently picking up the silver circlet before placing it in your bag.

“Let’s get moving,” you called out to your sister, clearing your throat to get rid of any emotion.

The Hunters followed your orders, falling into single file out of the cabin. They marched quietly through camp, each one of them looking at the sky, at the new constellation when it came into view, before it would disappear completely until nightfall again. You glanced around, noticing not a single camper was awake, there was a slight rumbling in the distance indicating the coming rain, you couldn’t think of more perfect weather for the occasion. You caught sight of Dionysus and Chiron standing outside the big house, each of them holding somber looks.

You weren’t surprised they already knew what happened. After all Zoe wasn’t the only one to lose her life on the quest. Bianca hadn’t even been a Hunter for a week, and she had already fallen in battle. You didn’t know the details of the quest and you didn’t need to; you were sure Bianca fought bravely till the end. You hadn’t spent much time with her, and you had your reservations about her going on the quest, her loss made you wish it had been you on the quest even more, she was so young, she had a little brother, so much to live for, it should have been you.

Chiron bowed his head to all of you as you passed the big house, each Hunter giving him a nod in acknowledgement. You caught Dionysus’s gaze and for the first time in your entire life, which was saying something, you saw sympathy in his eyes. You held your head high as you gave him a nod as well, he responded with a raise of his glass. You knew it was diet coke, but it was the thought that counts and that was about as high praise as you could get from Dionysus. Despite Dionysus’ distaste for the Hunters and the arguments he had with Zoe he had a heart, at least on some level, he cared for all his campers, including the Hunters when they were there.

As all of you began your journey up the hill you could see the silhouette of a spikey-haired girl, with her classic leather jacket, leaning against the tree she once was. A few of your sisters glanced back at you but you gave them a nod to continue. None of you had any experience of having another lieutenant other than Zoe. You had been with Artemis longer than any other Hunter and Zoe was already her second before you took the oath. You were just as hesitant as they were, but you knew Artemis always needed a second and if she deemed Thalia worthy of that position then you would follow her into battle without question.

You whipped around when you heard the someone’s feet slapping the grass hard as they ran towards you. Your mouth parted in question, your eyes going wide when you saw Clarisse. You had thanked her for her company and then you went your separate ways, you figured she had gone back to her cabin to get some sleep. She slowed down when she realized you had come to a stop.

“Hey,” she said slightly breathless. You raised your eyebrows at that, it took a lot for Clarisse to get breathless, that meant she probably sprinted all the way from her cabin. “I just…” she let out an awkward chuckle looking up at the sky. You smiled, it was clear she didn’t get nervous often, it seemed you were both in uncharted waters when it came to your feelings for each other. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

You smiled at her, she was gorgeous with the sun rising behind her, almost as gorgeous as when she was drenched in sweat, standing over a poor camper with her spear at their neck. You shook your head when you realized the thoughts you just had. You glanced behind you to see the rest of the Hunters had made it over the hill, only Thalia remained at the top, resting against the tree as she looked down at you and Clarisse before quickly directing her attention at something on the other side.

“Thank you,” you said, smiling softly at Clarisse.

“For what?” she asked.

“Being the… friend,” you emphasized the word, staring into her eyes, hoping your eyes said what you couldn’t. “I needed.”

“Well, anytime you need a…” she gave you a sad smile. “Friend, I’m here for you.”

You smiled at that. You were a Hunter, she was a demigod, there was a chance you’d never see her again in this lifetime, you didn’t come to camp often enough. You reached out, crossing the invisible barrier that separated the two of you and took her hand within yours. You heard her suck in a breath, but she didn’t say anything, her eyes remained cast down, watching as you lightly swung your intertwined hands back and forth.

“I’m sorry things couldn’t be different,” you mumbled.

“Me too,” she whispered. She quickly let go of your hand and cleared her throat. “How do you feel about that?” you turned to see her nodding up the hill at Thalia who was looking at the two of you again.

You let out a long sigh before directing your attention back to Clarisse. It didn’t matter how you felt about it, it was Artemis’s decision, and she made her choice, you would never question your goddess about something like that. You certainly had your opinions on Thalia though, you had them when you first met her all those years ago and they pretty much remained the same when you met her again nearly a week ago.

“I trust my goddess’s decision,” you said, with a small smile.

Clarisse rolled her eyes. You knew she wasn’t overly fond of the Hunters in general and probably didn’t have the highest opinion of Thalia either. You were pretty sure she wasn’t a fan of any of the gods, even her own father, though she was still desperate to make him proud. She didn’t know what it was like to have full faith in a goddess, to follow them, not because you were their child but by choice, though, most demigods didn’t understand the reason you and the other Hunters took the oath, why you were all so willing to fight and die for your goddess.

“Not jealous she didn’t choose you?” Clarisse inquired, crossing her arms. “You seem to give orders pretty well,” she mumbled the last part, her eyes on the ground as she kicked a rock.

You couldn’t help but smirk, even when the two of you were getting along, she still found it difficult to compliment someone else’s leadership skills. “No,” you said instantly, glancing back at Thalia one last time. “I’m not much of a leader. More of a third-tier leader type.” You chuckled making Clarisse chuckle along with you.

“Stay in touch?” she asked. “Everyone here is an idiot,” she was looking everywhere but you. “Besides Silena,” she added with an eyeroll as if Silena were going to pop up and yell at her for saying that. “And I kind of like talking to you,” she glanced at you before quickly looking away again.

“Of course,” you smiled.

You finished your goodbyes with Clarisse then made your way up the hill to where Thalia was waiting. She was leaning against her tree, her arms crossed with an unimpressed look on her face. “Took you long enough,” she said as you got to the top of the hill.

You rolled your eyes, she was definitely going to take some getting used to, she wasn’t Zoe. “Let’s go,” she said, pushing off the tree. “Artemis is waiting for us.”

“Wait,” you said, reaching around for your bag. Thalia paused, turning to you with a furrowed brow. “I know it’s probably not your thing,” you looked Thalia up and down. “But every lieutenant of Artemis should have one.” You pulled out the silver circlet, holding it out to Thalia.

Thalia’s face softened, her eyes not leaving the circlet in your hands. You figured she knew where you got it from. She had seen Zoe wearing one every time they interacted, and it wasn’t like you had been around anyone else where you could have acquired one. You hoped she understood what you offering this up meant. She could get a new one from Artemis, you were sure your goddess intended to give her one but offering her one of Zoe’s felt right.

“Thank you,” Thalia said, gently taking the circlet out of your hands. She hesitantly lifted it up and placed it on her head.

You sucked in a breath, staring at Thalia wearing Zoe’s silver circlet. You had to blink a few times to stop the tears from forming, you just officially admitted that Zoe was in fact gone.

“After you, lieutenant,” you said. Thalia nodded and began to make her way down the hill again. A smirk slowly crept onto your face before you turned to follow. “Unless you need more time saying goodbye,” you nodded back at the tree. “The squirrels that used to live on you probably miss you.”

Thalia kept walking down the hill to where the rest of the Hunters were waiting but she made sure to flip you off as she walked away. You gave a small chuckle; it would take some time and things would be different, but Thalia would make a good lieutenant. You looked back down at Camp Half-Blood one last time, seeing Clarisse in the distance. You smiled, giving her one last wave before you turned and followed after your sisters.

Taglist: @cxcilla @touchmyfracturedomens @luclue @manu-007s-world

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse x reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #maybe in another life

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 8.1 - i guess that's why they call it the blues

Rating: mature (angst, language, sexual content, masturbation)

Word Count: 3000

A/N: still trying to work out some bugs on the taglist. thank you to everyone.

☾

Don't wish it away Don't look at it like it's forever

Between me and you I could honestly say Things can only get better

☾

New Year's Eve 1983 - junior year

You sat on your bed, wrapped in a white fluffy towel. Your hair was wet and dangling as you ran a brush through it.

Just let me know the time and place to pick you up.

The phone call was meticulously planned to occur when you were home alone, as Robin and your parents went to the store. There was nothing you disliked more than someone listening in on your private conversations. And having parents like Richard and Melissa made things such as privacy a rare luxury.

After hanging up the phone with Eddie, you had swiftly made your way into the shower. Without wanting to fully admit it to yourself, you purposely used your mother's expensive shampoo so that your hair would smell different, fancy. It was New Year's, after all. A special occasion.

Now the only obstacle was escaping your parents' watchful eyes after dinner. It was a tradition for the Buckley family to eat dinner late in the evening on New Year's. But this year, you and Robin had absolutely no intention of being home at midnight.

You wondered vaguely if Eddie's dad cared about him being out all night.

Mr. Munson didn't seem very nice on the phone when you called for Eddie. The older man was mouth breathing and irritable, like you had interrupted an important event. Which turned out to be true once you heard him yelling about Jeopardy being on.

Having unkind parents was something you understood, but still shocked you to overhear the abusive tone Eddie's father held as his only son simply got a phone call.

And then, as you were lost in thought with the brush still in your hair, a peculiar thing happened.

The phone in your room began to ring.

Knowing you were the only one home, you reached for the receiver with haste, a tiny voice in the back of your mind begging for it to be Eddie again.

But after one ring, just as the tip of your finger touched the phone, the ringing stopped. 

You were momentarily frightened as you heard a deep voice mumbling downstairs, then quickly realized that it was your father. You must not have been the only one to ditch the grocery shopping trip.

Then the fear came back, washing over you like a wave. What if it was Eddie calling you back? Your father would have a fucking conniption fit if Eddie Munson was calling his home.

In a panic, you quietly lifted the receiver to see if you could hear the voice of the caller. Normally, you wouldn't dream of listening to someone else's call - but anxiety took over. 

"...Richard, honey, come to the office for just an hour… you know I won't tell anyone…"

The sultry voice of a woman was the last thing you expected to hear. You also didn't expect to recognize the voice as your father's coworker, Kate.

Pressing your palm to your mouth and nose to stay quiet, you were unable to stop yourself from listening further, a sick feeling rising in your stomach.

Your father's voice, usually impatient and gruff, seemed almost unrecognizable as he responded to the woman.

"You know that's a risky idea, Kate. I have dinner with my family tonight."

"So come before dinner. The office is empty for the holiday. I promise I'll make it worth your while."

You almost gagged to yourself. Was this really happening, or did you never wake up from your dream-filled sleep from earlier that morning?

It didn't take much for Richard Buckley to give in. "You drive a hard bargain. I'll be there in about twenty minutes. Just don't call the house again, okay? Unless I call you first."

Not waiting to hear the rest of the unpleasant infidelity, you gently hung up the phone and rushed to put clothes on. 

Your father was off the phone and gathering the keys to his work truck when you appeared at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed. You were satisfied to see the color drain from his face.

"I- okay, now," he sighed angrily. "I thought you went with your mother to the store."

Relishing in having the upper hand in the situation, you kept a poker face and stared at him.

"Ditto."

Your father sighed again, running a hand over his thin combed-over hair. "I have to run to the office for a while before dinner. There was an… unexpected delivery."

"Okay. I'll let mom know."

You waited for him to turn for the front door, letting him think he could make it out unscathed, before adding another comment.

"Tell Kate I said hello."

Freezing with one hand gripped on the doorknob, white-knuckled, Richard Buckley didn't look at his daughter as he chose his words carefully.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

You scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Please don't make me spell it out, Dad. I could hear her on the phone."

"You must be mistaken, then. That was a phone call about a deliv-"

Tossing your hands in the air, you weren't about to be gaslighted. "Oh, come on. I'm not a child. Listen, I'll make you a deal, okay?"

Your father finally looked at you then, face red with anger at your defiance, but not an ounce of shame for being caught. This only fueled your frustration. If your father was going to play dirty, so were you.

"I won't tell Mom about this… if you let me and Robin go out tonight for New Year's. No curfew."

"Fine."

That was easy, you thought, satisfied. But what else could you get out of this?

"One more thing."

He hesitated, but still humored you, gesturing with his hand impatiently for you to continue.

"I don't want to face any consequences for spending time with Eddie Munson. No more threats of private school."

You almost laughed at your father's expression then, the reddest you had ever seen it. He looked as if he could spontaneously combust at any moment. 

But as foolish as your father was, he wasn't a complete imbecile. Having an affair with his also married coworker was something that would ruin his reputation not only with the town, but with his beloved church as well. You were almost tempted to ask him how God felt about adultery.

You didn't get an easy response like your first part of the deal.

"Listen," he spoke slowly. "You need to keep your nose out of this. Forget this ever happened. Your mother and I have private lives that don't involve you."

"I have a private life too! And I'm sick of you dictating who Robin and I can be friends with!" 

Desperate to end the conversation, Richard pointed his finger in your face.

"You are a troubled young woman. Be friends with whoever you want. But dear daughter of mine," spit was flying from his lips, face basically a tomato. "If I so much as see that Munson boy, this deal is over."

You stared him down. It took everything in you to not smack his finger out of your face. You calmed yourself, realizing that this was as good as the situation could possibly get. 

Holding a hand out to shake, you sneered at him. "You drive a hard bargain, Richard."

But he didn't shake your hand. Your father abruptly left the house as he mumbled an almost incoherent "absolute failure" under his breath.

Slumping down on the bottom stair, you trembled with adrenaline, wondering if you were the failure or if your father was actually admitting it about himself.

☾

While I'm away Dust out the demons inside And it won't be long Before you and me run To the place in our hearts Where we hide

☾

Eddie found himself in a quandary.

Later that evening, as he got ready to head out for the night, the brown-eyed boy stood in front of the bathroom mirror, a foil wrapper crinkling in his hand.

A condom.

The cliche better safe than sorry was running through his mind. But on the same note, he felt bad for assuming that you would even kiss him again. 

He rubbed his eyes, then looked at his reflection in the mirror. Dark eyes, dark hair, dark clothing. It was kind of a front, though, as his thoughts usually weren't very dark. 

Usually. 

Eddie still had plans with Jeff and Gareth before he was due to pick you up, and he considered asking them for advice about the situation. That would be fruitless, however, as Eddie was quite familiar with the extent of their experiences with women. 

Plus, you would literally have his head if you knew he was talking about you like that to anyone. One of his favorite things about you was the respect you had for yourself, the sureness with which you carried yourself. You were quiet and a little awkward, but still completely confident.

He pondered for a moment, still fiddling with the foil wrapper in his palm. Like a horrible totem representing his own crippled self confidence.

Figuring that you wouldn't even know that he had it unless you actually asked him for one, Eddie tucked it away inside of his wallet for safe keeping.

He could hear his dad stomping around upstairs as he walked back and forth between his armchair and the case of beer in the fridge. As much as Eddie liked his bedroom and bathroom in the basement, he wouldn't miss hearing that annoying stomping as a daily reminder of his dad's alcoholism.

For now, the solitude of the basement was worth it. And it held good memories regardless of the drunk monster that lived above him.

Brushing his teeth, Eddie's thoughts wandered back to the condom in his wallet. He thought about you, about your request to spend New Year's Eve with him. Him, of all people.

At eighteen years old, Eddie was still technically a virgin. Would he ever admit that to anyone? Probably not. Heavy petting make-out sessions and half of a handjob didn't exactly count as occurrences that required such contraception.

And he never really considered himself to be the kind of guy who needed to carry around a condom with him everyday. The town freak. 

He noticed attractive people, like any other teenager in Hawkins. But as of the entire last year, you were the only human being to cross his path that made him want an excuse to use a condom.

Sure, he wasn't exactly a blushing, completely inexperienced teenager. Though it had been less than a month, Eddie was still fucking shocked that you hadn't even kissed anyone before. He almost wondered if you were fucking with him, some kind of sick joke.

Deep down he knew you were telling the truth, though. Maybe he was naive, but Eddie refused to believe that you'd lie to him about something like that. Not to mention that after several years of school with you, he had never seen you dating anyone.

Eddie was curious as to why. You were semi-popular, attractive, funny. But maybe your attitude and general feisty demeanor made it clear that you preferred to be alone.

Pacing in his bathroom, the only sound was his boots dragging across the linoleum tile, the clinking of the chains on his belt. 

It didn't take long for his attention to crawl towards something more deviant. He didn't think he could ever forget the feeling of your skin as he tattooed you. The cold press of your lips on his as snow fell around them.

Jesus Christ, he needed to get rid of the tension in his body before he was physically near you.

Grabbing the lotion off the bathroom counter, he hastily unbuckled his jeans.

Already hard, he imagined groping you in the shadows, wishing it was your soft hands along his length. He wondered how sensitive you were - would you whimper if he dragged his nails gently over the most private area of your blue jeans? Would you take his hand and place it inside your panties?

He dropped himself back onto his bed, spare guitar picks falling to the floor. Flashing images of you kissing his neck, fingers pulling his hair.

It didn’t take long for him to make a mess all over his belly, letting out a sigh at the ceiling tiles where he swore he could see your name hidden in the cobweb patterns.

☾

I guess that's why they call it the blues Time on my hands Could be time spent with you

Oh, laughing like children Living like lovers Rolling like thunder Under the covers

☾

"You're late, Munson."

He smiled at you. "You know, I think that might be something you'll have to get used to. I'm incapable of being on time."

It was just after eleven at night, only an hour before the New Year, as you scrambled into the passenger seat of his warm van. Rubbing your hands together in front of the vents, you turned your excited eyes to him as he drove away from your house. 

He was dressed in his usual dark attire. From the glow of the streetlights, you could see his devilish grin as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth.

You were just about to tell him how gross the cigarette was when you heard the song playing on the radio.

"Oh! Turn it up, will you?"

Lifting an eyebrow at you, Eddie twisted the volume dial. "Journey? Are you serious?"

"'Separate Ways' is my all-time favorite song," you stated matter-of-factly, tapping your fingers on the window sill. "So, where are we going?"

"I'd tell you it's a surprise, but it's not really all that surprising. We're going to Lovers' Lake."

Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. 

"That's very original of you, Eddie. Isn't it all frozen over this time of year?"

He flicked the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray. "Yes, sunshine. A huge, frigid heart-shaped body of water. Just like my own heart."

You smirked to yourself. "Yet another perfect place for you to finally murder me."

"Not quite yet! I have a warm van, a six pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon, and some blankets in the back."

"You literally just described the exact van that murderers drive around in."

Eddie laughed at your morbid sense of humor. "Does it help at all that we'll have the best view on the lake? My friend isn't at his cabin tonight, but he said it's cool to pull my van up to the shore by his boathouse."

Pretending to think hard for a moment, you shrugged and smiled. Then, you shocked Eddie by nonchalantly placing your palm on his leg, like it was something you did everyday. 

"I guess that makes up for all these homicidal red flags."

☾

Stare into space Picture my face in your hands

Live for each second Without hesitation And never forget I'm your man

☾

"So, how do your parents feel about you being out so late?"

Eddie helped you wrap yourself into a blanket cocoon and then handed you a beer. He watched as you took a drink of it, shivering slightly, before responding to him.

You were curled up close to each other in the back of his van, legs dangling out of the open rear doors. Eddie made sure to blast the heat in the front so you wouldn't get too cold, but he could still see your breath in the brisk winter air around them.

"Oh, the usual. I'm a sinner. A disappointment. An absolute heathen, disgracing the Buckley name."

He stared at you, his can of beer paused halfway to his mouth. "Did they really say that?"

You snorted. "No, but my father might as well have. My mom's just an idiot who goes along with him."

"Do they know you're with me?"

"Yes," you replied simply.

When Eddie stayed quiet on the matter, you asked some of the lingering questions in your mind.

"How does your dad feel? He didn't sound very happy when I called earlier."

Taking a long sip of the cold beverage in his gloved hand, Eddie seemed to wince at your query. He glanced out at the frozen, dark abyss of Lovers' Lake and then peered over at you.

"I doubt he even noticed that I left the house."

You fidgeted in the blanket and awkwardly adjusted the fluffy hat on your head. "I'm sorry, Munson."

"Don't sweat it. He's just an asshole. I think I'm going to move in with my uncle this summer, though. After graduation."

You were surprised to hear this. "Really? Does your uncle live far away?"

Eddie didn't miss the slight panic in your words, his heart instantly swelling as he realized that you worried he was moving away from Hawkins. Still, he wasn't going to pass up the chance to tease you about it.

"Well, well, well. Are you going to miss me? Is Miss Buckley breaking away from her infamous emotionless exterior? Do I see the hint of an actual soul in there?" 

He burst out in laughter as you punched him playfully on the shoulder. 

"C'mon, Eddie. If you weren't around, who else would tolerate me?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll tolerate you all the way from Forest Hills Trailer Park, sunshine."

Your shoulders dropped a little in relief. "Oh. That's not far at all."

"Nope."

The conversation went quiet for a while, a comfortable silence forming between the two teenagers. You rested your head on Eddie's shoulder, feeling his hair tickle the side of your cheek.

It didn't go unnoticed by either of you that, without directly saying it, you both wanted to spend the upcoming summer together.

Eddie continued to sneak glances of his watch. Midnight was slowly approaching.

☾

Wait on me girl Cry in the night if it helps But more than ever I simply love you More than I love life itself

☾

(song lyrics credit: "I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues" by Elton John)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

taglist: @siriuslysmoking @emesis-nemisis @ishouldclean @thegirlblogstuff @insert-geeky-things-here @melonmonstereater @well-be-okay-dear-valentine @mewchiili @maridevial @sp1dyb0y1008 @totallynani @the-historical-biscuit2468 @borhapgirlforlife19 @amandaauroraelli @daggerdear

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddiemunson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson slow burn #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x buckley!reader

[actual-bill-potts]

Hi! If you're still doing the prompts, may I request a Finrod (in beleriand) + green things even among the pits and broken rocks?

Hello! Dear one! Most excellent silm artist! I apologize for being gone so long, feels like I have had several years of bad brain days in a row😭 but thank you so much for prompting me anyway - and what a prompt! I was instantly taken by an image and had to write it down. I hope you enjoy this one<3

TW for descriptions of blood, gore, bones, and general dead bodies.

They brought the bones up first.

Beren’s frame was sharp as daggers, driven into Lúthien’s arms; but he had not listened to her pleas that he eat.

"I will not rest until they can," he said, and for a long moment Lúthien had not understood: who? Rest where?

Then she understood: he meant the dead.

Lúthien was weary beyond belief, cursing the softness of her form and the six-days lost in Nargothrond, and even Huan beside her was sagging in exhaustion. But in truth, she did not want to leave anyone down there in the dark and the filth either.

So they gathered the bones. There were so many! Lúthien knew, of course, that the Eldar had skeletons; but the breadth of them, scattered about the floor, was such that she could not really connect any of it to living breathing creatures. Many of the bones had been split open and the marrow sucked out; others were splintered so badly they had wedged into the stone floor and had to be left. Despite this there were scraps of flesh, still, scattered here and there. It was like no death in the wilderness she had ever seen. These were not merely starving creatures; they had been purposefully cruel.

More than once Lúthien had to stop, and take her too-light load up under the stars, climbing the crumbling steps and breathing very steadily lest she lose all composure. Beren worked like a man possessed, but he was wasted to almost nothing, and so their grim task took long enough that the velvet blackness of the sky had begun to turn grey.

But at last it was done; they had neat rows of bones, away from the chains and the stones, laid out upon the dirt under the sky. At last there was only - only Finrod left, to carry out.

Huan descended with them, this time, head hanging low, and Lúthien clutched his ruff for support as they approached her cousin’s body. The stones crackled beneath her feet.

What was left of Finrod had been barely visible as they labored, between the gloom of the prison and the darkness of the night; but now light was creeping down the stairs, and she could see the gold of his hair and the pale grey of his skin. He was splattered in old black stains, across his mouth and chest and side and legs, and new brown stains. As Lúthien approached she could see the white of bone in his chest and flashing in one arm, and had to close her eyes. Beren beside her let out a low moan.

After a moment, she opened her eyes again, feeling the first rays of the sun warming her back. Then she froze.

Finrod’s hair had been mostly shorn, and what was left was covered in the damp blackness of the pit; but somehow, through a crack in the wall, a patch of aur-hennin had grown. It crowned him in yellow and green, leaves tucked behind his ears, one flower falling forward onto his forehead, as if he had simply fallen asleep after a night’s heavy revelry.

"Beren, look!" said Lúthien, very softly, "the king has got a crown again."

For a moment she felt - outside herself. She was not Lúthien, princess of Doriath; she was the Nandor Elves who had tended to Denethor’s slain body upon the hill of Amon Ereb and, it was said, crowned him in flowers; she was the Eagle who had snatched King Fingolfin’s body from the hand of the Morgoth; she was, for a moment, someone very small, standing in an unfamiliar forest under an unfamiliar sun.

Then the moment passed, as Beren staggered in grief upon her shoulder; but his tears were, she thought, a little lighter, seeing the golden king crowned, seeing her cousin cradled in softness.

Slowly they carried him up to the light.

#finrod #beren #luthien #bluthien #silm fic #my writing

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

What About Scaramouche? Like not Wanderer, Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers Scaramouche.

Scaramouche, The Sixth Harbinger, is on False Creator's side.

Because they promised him a throne of an Archon. As soon, as they have one available.

When Creator decided, what to do with Dendro Archon.

"Don't bow so low, Scaramouche. You are a future Archon. Carry yourself with more dignity." gently scolds Creator. Scaramouche lift his head, looking at Their Holiness. At the embodiment of power and grace.

_________

Scaramouche bowed before Ivory Throne. Creator's voice was calm and welcoming.

He didn't dare to ask, when he will get his title. He believed in Creator. They will fulfill their promise. They were above people and gods. Above the sin of lie.

Yet, Scaramouche wished, that the days of his godhood came sooner.

If only that stubborn Dendro Archon will make up their mind.

________

Devine came into Sanctuary of Surasthana. Something more devine, in the eyes of other people, than Dendro Archon, trapped inside the Sanctuary. Devine were there before. They didn't get what they want before. Devine hopped, that this time, they will get it.

"Don't worry, dear child. I will let you free." Devine sang their siren song. "But before... Say it."

Dendro Archon, who was trapped for all her life, looked smug. Devine came to hate that smug smile.

Like before, Nahida tilted her head. And repeated the same words.

"Where are your familiars, Holy One? Where are the ones, who helped you built this world? Who faced down armies of usurpers, battled demons, who have healed your wounds and carried your broken body across war scarred plains? Why their home, your cradle, lay in shambles?"

Devine slammed both hands against the surface of Nahida's cage. Their eyes, for a moment, lost focus. Nahida knew, that, if one of her aranaras was here, they would say, that "Marana showed itself".

They weren't a god.

They were Marana.

Corruption. Sin. Destruction.

"Wrong answer..."

The illusion, that False Creator created and wears upon themselves, was broken. And Nahida saw them. Yellowish sharp teeth. Her cage didn't let smells, but Nahida knew, that Fake's breath smells of rotten flesh.

Nahida knew, that she was safe. Irmensul will listen only to her.

And Fake will not risk it. They wouldn't want to spend their powers on taking control over Irmensul.

No powers means no illusion. No illusion means no praises, no followers, no throne of Devine.

Nahida looked Fake in the eyes. Unblinking.

Fake let out an almost animalistic roar. They breathe in, turned on their heels and stomped away.

Illusion was on again.

"I am getting impatient, child. Be a good kid, and think again. And I will let you out of the room."

Doors of Sanctuary of Surasthana closed behind Fake.

And Nahida reached out to Irmensul. Through the invisible thread. The last gift of dead Celestial.

'Safe real Creator. Don't let Demon got them.'

Irmensul branches, that were hiding remains of Celestia were still whole.

Perhaps, one day, they will help Real Creator.

__________

In a three month, The Imposter Hunt will begin.

__________

Scaramouche will do anything to secure his future position. He and his Fatui subordinates will burn Teyvat, if it means they could find an Imposter.

And, after Nahida's involvement in helping Imposter was discovered, Scaramouche will personally tear Sanctuary of Surasthana apart.

Scaramouche will get the title of an Archon. He will get Dendro Gnosis.

If only he knew, where Previous Archon has disappeared, why he can't reach Irmensul, and where Imposter was hiding?

_________

Your boat stopped at one of the deserted shores of Fontaine. Nahida tell you, that you can find help here.

The small stone flower, creation of Nahida and one of the Celestia gods, felt heavy in your bag.

It was your link with Irmensul. And with remains of Celestia. With remains of Real Creator's powers.

_______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu

#self-awarebsd #imposter sagau #sagau impostor au #imposter au #scaramouche #nahida

[shinewonder]

3 - out of sight

#having to look behind you in 4 always stressed me out #second scariest mechanic in that game for me #only lost to the listening for breathing one #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #michael afton #freddles #miiilowo fnaftober #fnaftober #fnaftober day 3 #doodles #fnaf 4

[phoenixcatch7]

Every time I go to hyrule castle I remember that video about the royal guard weapons and how they were shiekah tech created to mimic the master sword (and failed - they're powerful but brittle and no more effective against the calamity than anything else). And I just remember the little detail of the wings on the hilt. On the master sword, they face up when the blade points down. On the royal guard weapons, they face up when the blade points up.

And to me, that little detail is very indicative of what they thought about the hero and the cycle.

The wings face up when fi is at rest. Waiting. Sealing. Not lifted.

For them, their swords face up when they brandish them, when they raise them against their enemies, when they wave them around and cheer.

That's what they think the hero does. That's what they think they can replicate and take for themselves.

That's not what a hero does at all.

Sure, he spends a lot of time doing that, but it's a fraction of the whole. The hero does not do it for glory or pay or fame. He is kind. He helps everyone who asks. He gets things for little kids and listens to their stories and helps people find their pets and goes out of his way to leave the stranger a little happier them when they met. He spends hours crawling through mazes and enemies to find something he can use later.

He does not raise his sword in anger. The job is not done once the villain of the day is skewered on his sword. It needs to be sealed, the darkness pushed back until the next generations can take up the call. It's passing on the torch to yourself. The master sword must seal evil during those intervening centuries.

The heroes soul is one, by breath of the wild, long forged in faith and love and determination and the flames of war and loss. The curse of demise makes it so that only one strong enough to stand against it can push it back. The heroes soul is one that is pure. It's a long reset game, and everyone knows the way it plays out.

And under rhoam, hyrule believes it knows all there is to know about the hero and the cycle. It thinks that it can shove the pieces where it wants them, that with the aid of the ancient technology it can force the warnings of history to bend to it's desire. It thinks enough violence will solve the problem entirely. It makes the master sword mimics with the blades facing up.

And it gets it wrong.

The hero reduced to a silent weapon, a shadow of the royal family, the princess helpless and unable to act, unable to access her own power.

It tries to force the issue with manpower and restrictions and piling societal pressure on the children, and hyrule falls.

Immediately, zelda is able to unlock and channel the full extent of her power, she can make a plan and not have it dismissed, she sends link to safety and travels hyrule setting the parts of a constantly moving puzzle into place, she meets ancient spirits and talks with the master sword and seals ganon on her own for the century it takes for link to return.

When he does, rhoam does not order link to save the princess. He does not pile titles and restrictions and pressures on him. He asks him to save his daughter. The hero finally gets to act at his own pace, and he chooses kindness. He chooses to go out of his way to talk to people outside his station, to listen to kids stories and leave strangers a little happier than when they met. He gathers allies loyal out of trust and not forced respect for things he hasn't done yet.

By choosing kindness and not violence (though there is an incredible amount of both), link becomes able to defeat the calamity and save zelda and the kingdom. Zelda is able to guide him and trust him to come. By working together as respected equals, they save the world.

And afterwards, the master sword is returned to her pedestal, triumphant, blade down and wings raised high.

#long post #Loz meta #meta #fandom meta #Huge themes in botw of trust and choosing your own path. To me. #Idk the wing directions on the royal guard gear have always been so invocative since I noticed #The master sword was not crafted with the celebration of triumph in mind. She was made for the long hard slog. #And pretty much the second rhoam loosened his tight reins on his daughter and her knight they ran off got covered in mud and saved the worl #And yeah I get that he was stressed and working on an unknown deadline but he was too narrow minded. Decided he knew what was best. #Ties into my hc of each zelda having the one special interest that ends up saving her. #If she'd been allowed to research shiekah tech who knows. Aoc only served to reinforce it with the shield gadget subplot. #When I'm salty I like to phrase it as the mortals getting too arrogant with the years of peace and lost history and dreams of superweapons #Thinking they know the secrets of the universe when they haven't even scratched the surface. They didn't listen to the children. #long tags #loz #legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #loz breath of the wild #loz tears of the kingdom #botw #totk #botw totk #link #tloz #tloz tears of the kingdom #tloz totk #Thinking the swords natural place is up. Please. #'If I don't take up the sword I can't protect you. If I keep wielding the sword I can't embrace you.'

[dirtytransmasc]

self indulgent got concept.

Ned brings Jon home, Cat hates the boy, everything stays the same... until Robert Baratheon is charging through the halls of Winterfell looking for the babe, ready to butcher the poor thing where he lay helpless in his cradle.

in a matter of moments Catelyn learns three things:

The babe was never a bastard, Ned had only lied to her to protect Jon, and that she would die before she let Robert lay a finger on the babe she'd previously wished death upon.

cue Catelyn Stark snatching Jon from his cradle, holding him, protecting him, loving him as she would her own son, risking it all to keep him safe, all care for herself thrown to the wind.

like they say, what a mother's love holds no bounds, and what it makes her capable of had no limits.

#listen listen listen #I just want Catelyn to love Jon Snow and I don't care what I ahve to do to make it happen #(plus the angst is delicious) #I was rewatching old kids movies and ended up watching ice age and idk why but the mom sacrificing herself for her babe gave me ideas #I just imagine young Cat holding onto the boy she hated and wished death on for being bastard (only to find out he wasn't one) as tightly- #as she could. knowing Robert and his men were coming. knowing they would slaughter the boy in front of her. knwoing she'd wished for this- #and deciding she'd give her own life to protect him if thats what it came to. #and in my mind she jumped from the window of the nursery knowing the halls will be filled with the kings men and leave little chance for- #escape. before fleeing on injured legs to hide the babe and herself knowing Robert would be right behind her. she's in agony. but she'll- #going for the babes sake. she won't stop until her heart is dead in her chest. even if it hurts to move and breath and think he keeps going #maybe she takes a horse and flees wintefell all together. maybe she hides somewhere in/around the castle. maybe Robert catches her? #if she runs with him she'd have nothing but the clothes on her back. she'd have to feed him and keep him warm. she'd have left her own son- #behind. the potential angst and hurt/comfort as Cat misses her own son and learns to love another. feeding him and keeping him warm from- #her own body while she's injured and lost and at the will of the elements of the strange new place she now considered calling home #idk I just think it'd be an interesting concept #there's something about a mother and her child being cornered by 'wolves' (in this case a stag). this has the added spice of Cat and Jon's- #dynamic. just earlier that day she could barely look at him and now she's willing to die for him. the change happened in seconds. #that was a lot of ranting in the tags. oops. anyway... #catelyn stark #jon snow #I love putting these two in harrowing. life altering. and/or traumatic situations so they can finally just be mother and son #I live for the angsty family feels #got #game of thrones #asoiaf

[lesenbyan]

There are few things worse, I think, than reading a call to action memoir that is so close to right but really should have been shelved for at least 5yrs before going to print so the author has time to learn enough to see all the false equivalencies that really hinder the point

#personal; #yeah fatphobia is bad but dont you dare act like people aren't asking disabled people to medically alter themselves every day??? #you compare bariatric and gender affirming surgeries in such a way that makes the latter sound easy to get?? #and in fact don't at ALL go into the struggles for transition care except for a nod at FL while comparing us (trans people) #to fat people like our lives are Much Easier instead of /oppressed by the same white colonial structures that enforce fatphobia/ #but go off i guess #i was giving a lot of leeway when i was just side eyeing the comparisons with racism bc i'm not fat and i've not experienced enough racism #to say either way on those #but the MOMENT she started using trans and disabled comparisons i about lost it #and also randomly started calling it antisemitic (sure as much as it's violnt to all poc) in the last chapter with nothing supporting it #like you can tell it was written over the course of the last like 2 maybe 3 years without enough space to breathe #i have listened to a book on writing memoir so often i've got some of it all but memorized #and i agree that if it's more recent than a decade you're probably too close to be writing it #and this author's writing mostly about during pandemic times. this is more a journal and call to action than memoir #but its not polished enough to be a proper call to action bc there's not much it gives you to do other than 'stop dieting & dare to be fat' #which isn't an effective call to action when only those most harmed by fatphobia can act on it you know??? #lots of complaints #3/10 #edit: reiterting that i'm not saying it' #*it's not anti-semitic; just that a good published work of this kind doesn't make last second claims and certainly not ones #they haven't already explicitly supported in the text #i feel the need to clarify with the very very vocal rise of anti semitism esp in the left #like yes there are anti-Semitic ties. she didn't name them. just said 'they exist lol' and this went to print #great study in poor research slipping onto shelves bc topic matter is relevant

[oatbugs]

WARNING: The penalty for trespassing on the railway is £1000.

#here is the story of two researchers and one 0 on the truth table. here is how you almost tied up my arm in a belt #because you lost your tourniquet and neither of you could find my veins. did it feel good to get it off your chest #did it feel cathartic to talk about sin? in a room full of policymakers and experts i shook hands with a theoretical #physicist creating breathing metal. we talked about annual ruination. there is a boy in gold earrings #and two strangers growing a fake hologram with their minds. you discover you like wine and that you are #perhaps only a little bit cutthroat. here is a teapot full of tequila and a glance a curling of the lips that renders you [0] #first on the index and quickly overlooked. you want to be loved? here is the difficult bit. girl teaches you how to speak mandarin. still #too drunk to find your veins but here i want to be loved anyway. in a shocking turn of events the thing that keeps me alive #projected through my lovers noise cancelling headphones causes a slow peak in the 10 millisecond span i process #falling lights and yet increases accuracy to almost 87.5%. is it magic or are you just discussing your downfall? #the truth is have no skill or qualification to my name. i want you to listen to me. he said you will be a king. he said if a bomb #fell on this room everything that matters would be over. YOU WANNA LEARN ABOUT LOVE YOU SELFISH FUCKER? YOU SHOULD HAVE CHOSEN ME #WHEN YOU WERE 15. THE LOVE IS GONE IF YOU HAVE TO ASK IT. hes the alaskan #WHEN YOU WERE 15. THE LOVE IS GONE IF YOU HAVE TO ASK IT. i am the alaskan malmute under the dinner table begging for scraps #in a place im not supposed to be. in the field it was me with the drumsticks her (the world piano champion and the researcher and the #the machine gun) with the 巴乌 him with the guitar this is outside of london this is the ex presidents ex advisor telling you to give up #this is your brain and this is the day after doom. this is her washing the EEG conductive gel out of your hair in the restaurant bathroom #this is the skill to possess guilt without carrying shame.

[tojipie]

toji x crybaby reader <3

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, smut under the cut !

˚ ✧ ───────────

toji is a flawed man. 

short-tempered, married to his money, slow to show affection. but the one thing he does excel at is comforting you.

he knows you’re a sensitive girl, knows just how easy it is for you to get teary-eyed and red in the face over comments that otherwise seem like nothing to the untrained ear. 

you have a kind heart is all, too giving to a world that only knows how to take. he tells you that every time you break down in his arms, thick hands rubbing circles into the small of your back.

his father would have slapped him across the face for crying. called him soft, whiney like a girl. put him to work for the rest of the day to shape him into a man.

he wasn’t his father though, and you weren’t a zenin.

you were soft in the best way, tender-hearted and too trusting. a daisy among weeds, swaying idly in the too-strong wind. nothing like a zenin, nothing like him. 

he hadn’t the faintest clue what to do the first time he’d seen you get upset, standing there in the kitchen like a fool while you babbled on the phone with his bank.

it was a fraudulent charge, small, maybe only 10 dollars. probably dropped his card while paying for gas again, not the end of the world. the customer service rep assured you that much.

it was the principal, you sobbed. you’d lost his card and hadn’t even noticed. why wasn’t he upset with you?

he doesn’t know why he didn’t just tell you it was okay. that he didn’t have it in him to ever be cross with you, be it a ten-dollar charge or a thousand-dollar charge. 

instead he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling your body flush with his to press soft kisses to the crown of your head.

you were warm there, warm everywhere really. the thrum of your blood heating your skin from the inside out. toji liked that about you, how you offset the perpetual cold of his much larger hands. 

physical touch was something he knew well. toji wasn’t—still isn’t good with words, opting to stay silent and just hold you while you sniffled into the receiver. he got the message across, he always does.

his methods are unorthodox for that very reason. he doesn’t comfort you with his tone, he does it with his body. whether it be thick arms squeezing you until you get your breathing under control, large hands tracing shapes into your tummy until you stop spluttering, or toned legs splaying wide to let you crawl into his lap, resting on him until your bodies reach the same temperature.

toji fucks you on your good days, likes to tease you, get you squirming. the key difference is that he makes sweet love to you on your bad ones. holding you flush to his chest while he rocks into you under the safety of your shared blankets.

you feel like a furnace under him every time, heat radiating off your body and into the deeper parts of his soul. 

he gets mouthy once the feeling of you wrapped around him flicks that little switch in his brain. turning off the mental barrier between him and his inability to use his words. 

“sweet girl,” is what he calls you, eyes never leaving yours. 

“gotta stay close to me, gotta keep you safe, huh?”

and keep you safe he does, tucking your face into the curve of his neck so you don’t have to look anywhere but him. letting you moan, and pant, and sigh into his skin while he rocks against that special spot situated deep in your core.

he goes harder when you ask him to. not faster, but harder—he knows the difference, letting the resistance in his hips subside so he can sink to the hilt over and over. 

the juxtaposition makes his head spin. how do you manage to sound so sweet while asking for something like that? able to melt his heart even on the brink of orgasm.

you kiss him when he fills you up, letting him sink on top of you with a huff and a shy laugh. he listens as you open up about the good parts of your day, his soft hums of agreement spurring you on.

toji wishes he was taught to articulate himself better. he’s trying, he really is. though the “i love you” he says into your skin seems like his best shot at a start. 

#toji x reader #toji x reader fluff #toji x reader smut #toji x fem reader #toji x fem reader smut #toji x fem reader fluff #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk toji #toji headcanons #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji imagine #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #zenin toji #jujutsu toji #toji #toji drabbles #toji fluff #toji smut #toji x fem!reader #toji x fem!reader smut #toji x fem!reader fluff

[postmortemnivis]

no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simons a loverboy at heart #simon is not ghost

[iloveyoumorethansoup]

I will be sitting here for the rest of the night diagnosing me with what’s wrong with me! Cause god it’s so much!!

#turns out yeah the adhd stuff bothers me but that’s just super frustrating and I can’t ever get a single thing done and forget to like eat #which is bad! really really bad. and it’s a terrible way to live and I’m trying to fix it cause this can’t keep going #but oh god the depression and the anxiety is hitting all time highs #i don’t have the energy. for anything. the only thing that gets me out of bed is work which I work 6 days a week all day so I’m out #but I can’t do anything like i used to. i used to have a perfect customer service mask and I just. i can’t do it anymore. i hide in the #kitchen and pack orders all day so I don’t have to talk. my manager keeps asking if everyone’s okay cause he never sees me smile anymore #i tell him I’m tired. but god it’s so much worse. half the time it feels like I can’t even move right everything’s so heavy #i hate coffee. I’m reliant on espressos to function. I get home shower and go right to bed. i feel like all I ever want to do is cry #I’m constantly second guessing myself. I’m constantly apologizing for taking up space and asking for anything at all #people keep telling me to knock it off and that I need to stick up for myself. but I think I lost myself somewhere #i keep being told if I keep it up I’m gonna get walked all over. but I can’t even breathe. i feel so claustrophobic just existing #I’m too much and I take up space and I’m too clingy and I ask for too much and I need way too much patience #and I want to fix it I want to fix me so I’m not like that. but I just don’t know how #they keep telling me I’m not asking too much but I know I am #one girl told me I deserved to be loved the way I loved others and everything just ached so bad. I’m just so tired. i feel like a broken #record. the people I wanna talk to it feels wrong. the people I’m close to have heard everything a thousand times. i just want reassurance #i just want to be loved. i just want to feel safe and comfortable and not like everything is just going to disappear. therapy. i need therap #desperately. if there’s two things that have stuck out to me recently it’s being told I deserve the kind of love I give others and that #i deserve the amount of effort back that I put in. i run myself dry. and a lot of times just feel ignored and talked over. i just want #someone to listen without having to grab the phone or get distracted or just sit long enough that they can tell the story they want to tell #soup talks #i just want to feel better. i want to go home. I’m not sure where that is anymore. it’s not a place. it’s a feeling #and nothing gives me that feeling anymore

[cheonstapes]

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘THE SWEETER THE JUICE’ o(^-^)o

･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡. miguel o’hara x reader .｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･

SMUT

now he’s finally got you pregnant, he’s gonna do what he’s been dreaming of all these years. suck. those. tits.

same universe as this miguel.

cw; lactation kink, pregnancy, breeding kink (not really but yknow me), dry humping, titties, older nerd!miguel, they’re finally married!

800+ words

@cheonstapes : she’s back! again!

if miguel had to pick a part of your body he loved the most, it’d definitely be your tits.

if you think he was obsessed before — you don’t wanna know what goes through his head as he watches you waddle around his house, carrying his kid, sighing every time you leak through another shirt. you had forgone a bra ever since you got pregnant, saying how uncomfortable they feel against your chest — not that he was complaining.

“for fucks-sake, again?”

he was so used to hearing you say that, he already had a shirt on hand for you to change into. you were so grateful for your doting husband that you completely missed that nasty glint in his eyes you usually only see when he’s bending you over the bed and fucking you raw — luckily for him.

“here, honey. lift your arms for me.”

as you do, he pulls the shirt up — the soiled fabric catching under your swollen breasts as he wiggles it off you. “ah, shit — thanks, baby. but fuck, am i’m so tired of changing shirts every 10 minutes!” you might be tired, but miguel cannot get enough of it. he was already so fucking hard, practically salivating at the sight of your bare breasts still leaking down your heavy belly.

“maybe you should just ditch the shirts all together, love — you know i hate seeing my beautiful wife uncomfortable.” miguel’s voice was a soft whisper in your ear, lips slowly tracing down the side of your jaw to your sensitive neck — kissing the skin so tenderly. his calloused hands gently massaged the taut flesh of your tits, probing and squeezing at your nipples to let out small trickles of that sweet milk.

“migs, how many times are you gonna say that?”

“as many as it takes for you to finally listen.”

the breathy laugh you let out did little to qualm the feeling deep in his gut — he was dead serious, there was absolutely no reason for you to be in shirts all the time when you have him to take care of you whenever you needed a good milking. his hips were already sinking into to the plush of your ass that he loved oh-so-much — especially with how much fatter it got during your pregnancy.

it was almost as if he had lost control of his body, a hand landing on your waist to bend you over the counter as he mindlessly ruts into you. “dios, nena, eres tan hermosa. vas a ser la mamá más guapa, ¿verdad? mm, my pretty, little mama.” miguel never failed to turn you on to no bounds, like, you have a walking greek god as a husband — but those fucking hormones were making it unbearable.

the force at which he was pushing against you had shifted your drenched panties to the side, leaving practically nothing between you and his drooling bulge. his fingers tightened around the fat of your hips, squeezing the flesh delicious hard as his free hand flipped you over — pushing your back against the edge of the counter. “shit…been waiting to taste these all fucking day, honey.”

mindful of your growing belly, he hiked one of your legs up on his hip — craning his neck down to suck on a pert nipple. wasting no time, and at a much better angle, he continued to grind against you — his tip catching against your engorged clit. “m—migs, baby, fuck…” the way he swirled and sucked so eagerly reminded you of when you first started dating, how determined he was to knock you up before the two of you even moved in together.

the taste was so addicting, some of your milk trickling down his body — dripping onto the ground beneath you. you knew he was about to cum, hard — his eyes had rolled back, breathing in heavy pants, hands rushing to pull down the waistband of his sweats. “gonna paint my girls in my cum, love — sé una buena chica y mantenlos juntos para mí.”

“‘course, baby.” you nodded breathlessly, squishing the globes of fat together as he pumped his cock dry — head thrown back as ropes upon ropes of his hot seed coated your tits, sliding into the self-made crevice. “god, what did i do in my past life to have a wife as sexy as you, mamí?” his spent cock bobbed against his thigh as he trapped you against the counter — kissing you deeply as his wet hands reaching up to rub the cum into the skin of your breasts.

“mmph — y’know, i heard cum’s good for the skin. it, uh, helps with the blood circulation in your tits — i think we should do this more often, love.”

“migs, if you weren’t, like — a whole scientist, i might’ve believed you. if you want a titjob, just say that.”

“…i mean, you said it — not me.”

all your home shirts were promptly locked away and never to be seen again.

-new year, new waiting for cheon to get her shit together andpost!

#cheonstapes #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel smut #miguel o’hara smut #cheonstapes films!🪷 #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara x you #nerd miguel smut #nerd miguel