#should I even tag this with my usual tags?

[sourpeachsayshi]

You had more thoughts about big bro Choso??

I'm listening 🎤

⊱ ─── [ marathon ] ─── ⊰

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: public (is it pseudo incest if yuji is asleep? and choso is his brother?); heavy petting; kissing; nipple play; dry humping; reader is yuji's best friend; choso is yuji's brother; non curse au; hooking up in secret; size kink

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: nyx, my beloved. I initially was going to write something short, but decided to expand on this and I'm wrapping it up as a little gift to you <3

midnight rolls around, the living room glowing in blue light. yuji is on the floor, curled into a ball with his eyes shut as he snores quietly. the movie is still playing, you know it's the last one, but you've got another hour and thirty minute left and it only just started. usually you wouldn't be so conscious of the time, eventually falling asleep, but halfway through choso decided to join you both and you've been on the edge of your seat ever since.

he's so big. his strong, muscular legs taking up quite a bit of space on the humble sized sofa. you find yourself fidgeting with your outfit. tugging at the hem of your short dress as you adjust the straps of the top.

your cheeks are already warm, even though choso is innocently just watching the movie.

"you cold?" he asks, keeping his eye on the screen but picking up on your restless movements.

"yes," you lie. it's actually quite nice - neither too hot or cold, but you figure you would feel less exposed under a blanket.

choso gets up and walks over to the other side of the room. he picks up two blankets, one which he spreads over yuji's body and the other which unfolds over your lap.

"thank you," you softly answer, snuggling underneath to conceal yourself.

"no problem," he nonchalantly replies, but your body shivers when you notice that he sits even closer to you.

you try to watch the movie, tell yourself not to think about what happened a couple of weeks ago in choso's room. you nip at your bottom lip, your belly fluttering with guilt. you swore it would be the last time. you can't keep lying to your best friend like this. hate that you've been showing up at his place more often under false pretenses.

"comfy?" a deep voice whispers against your ear, and you squeeze your thighs underneath the blanket as you swallow the lump in your throat.

a breathy response comes out of you. "yeah, I am"

"good," he answers back, his fingers moving to unravel the blanket even more. "make some room for me then, I'm starting to feel the cold too.."

another lie. but a lie that makes your heart quiver with anticipation.

silence lingers, the two of you keeping your eyes on the television screen. you glance in his direction, wetting your lips at his handsome features. his hair is out, flowing freely to his shoulders, with some of the layers pulled into a half up do. his exposed ears show off his silver jewelry, and you notice a new piercing on his helix. his dark brows frame his perpetually exhausted eyes, his jaw tight and his mouth in a firm line.

he turns towards you just as you quickly glare at the screen pretending like you weren't just gawking in his direction.

choso leans closer, intruding into your space. "this movie sucks"

"it's only slow in the beginning," you insist, "it gets better towards the middle..."

his touch is warm, it makes your thigh tingle when he places his palm over your exposed flesh.

he strokes his thumb back and forth across your skin, "does it?"

"you should pay attention," you murmur, your legs spreading on their own accord, your face finally turning to his. he's so close that your noses bump, and you look at him with sparkling eyes. "the details are really important..."

"are they?" he answers back with a slight grin, teasing you as always. his shy, introverted personality tucked away somewhere else.

your heart pounds in your chest, your attention quickly moving to yuji who is still asleep on the floor.

"I can't seem to pay attention when you've been walking around the place in this little thing all day," choso adds on, stealing your focus once more.

the heat blooms in every space that makes a pulse. you know it's been a distraction, that was the whole point of you wearing it. the top fits a little too snug, your breasts pushed up and on the cusp of spilling out. the hem was a dangerous length, and you are far too ashamed to admit it was for the purpose of easy access.

his hand trails upward, the pads of his fingers delicately tracing a path up along your inner thigh. you gasp lightly against his lips, an electric spark running up the base of your spine when you feel him press his index finger against your underwear.

"what's got you so wet?" he purrs into your mouth, his bottom lip grazing over your own.

your eyes shoot to yuji again, your anxiety out on full force.

you place one hand on his shoulder in an attempt to pull yourself out of this precarious position, but choso simply slips his free arm behind your waist and tucks you into his frame. he kisses the corner of your mouth, his affection traveling to the sweet spot against your neck.

you swallow a whimper, his mouth hot and wet against your flesh. "choso-" you whine as quietly as possible, "your brother is right there-"

his lips find yours, he silences your warning with a kiss. his thumb traces the slit of your clothed cunt, his other hand slithering upward to squeeze your left breast.

"he can sleep through a earthquake," he replies nonchalantly. "we're fine"

you know it's true, but it still feels so...inappropriate.

your hand moves to hold his jaw, your body melting into his weight while you both make out on the sofa. he arches forward, keeping your back resting against the arm chair, the blanket falling to your lap and exposing your upper body. he removes his hand from between your legs, and hooks his index finger around the straps of your dress.

he pulls them down, drags the fabric further to reveal the deep swells of your breasts. a moan leaves you when he finally releases you from his kiss, your spit slick lips panting to catch your breath. he pecks your neck, the indentations around your collar bones, and further down. his greedy hands pull at your dress, just low enough that your hardened nipples are exposed. he uses both thumbs to massage the tender buds, a satisfied expression highlighting his face.

"I knew you weren't wearing a fucking bra" he smugly states.

your head falls back against the arm rest, your body tingling with pleasure from him tweaking and rolling your nipples. you shift your head to check on yuji again, your stomach twisting into a knot out of guilt.

before you can let yourself spiral into the depravity of your sin, choso glides his tongue over one of your nipples to silence your thoughts. the blanket is barely covering you both, the hem of your dress hiked up as your body slowly becomes horizontal.

the movie plays, a scene of passionate dialogue ensuing among the characters while you and choso make out heavily on the sofa. the music carries, a sudden boom from the bass making you both freeze. you both turn to yuji, noticing him shift onto his back still heavy with sleep.

you tremble underneath choso, gazing at him with frightened eyes.

"I can't-" you insist with a shake of your head, while he sighs against your neck.

your both in this position for a seconds, until he murmurs an "okay".

before you know it he's picking you up like you’re featherlight, maneuvering your disheveled state until he has you situated on his lap. large hands find your hips, and he drags you back until you can feel his length press up against your ass.

"relax," he whispers again, his teeth nipping at your delicate lobe. "you keep watching the movie..."

you find yourself obliging as you mold into his chest, your breasts heaving when you breath heavily as he grabs one of your tits in his hand to knead at your pebbled nipple. his other hand finds your soaked underwear once more, and presses the cloth between your lips as he massages the folds.

your vision is blurry, the blue light morphing the colors and the shapes all around you. you brain is a fuzzy thing, lobes made of cotton that's slowly being plucked.

choso kisses your shoulder, his hip bucking slightly to add some friction against his cock.

"turn around"

"but-" you stutter, your back slightly arching when he pinches your nipple.

"it'll be quick, just turn around and face me..." he firmly dictates, and you're so horny at this point that you simply just oblige with frustration.

he keeps the blanket in place as you spin, straddling him properly with your arms locked around his neck.

"lay on me," he adds soft, holding you in a gentle embrace as he hides both of you underneath the blanket.

you sigh dreamily feeling the brush of his cock against your cunt, choso's hands grip onto the plush meat of your ass, and you both instantly start grinding against one another for some much needed relief. his soft tee adds friction to your chest, your nipples brushing over his hard torso. your fingers sink into the locks of his hair, your thighs spreading further as you move with a little more conviction.

"shit-" he groans, lightly tapping your ass to egg you on. "oh shit, that feels good..."

you raise yourself up slightly, forgetting for a moment that you both aren't alone. you look down at where your sexes meet, watching yourself slide back and forth over the imprint of his cock. choso stares at your pussy with concentration, one hand traveling to slip an index finger underneath the fabric. he tugs it to the side, giving you better access. you're trembling, your arousal coating the light material of his sweatpants.

choso is bucking his hips subtly, the sound of the sofa creaks mildly. his eyes fall to your chest, the dress resting just under your nipples, your body glistens as a mist of sweat glitters your skin.

your thighs quiver, a ghost of a whine muted by the television screen when your stomach flutters as you reach your orgasm. choso moans, his head falling back to the sofa when he cums, tainting his sweats with a large, noticeable stain.

the heat of the moment dwindles fast for you, and you quickly glance over your shoulder to make sure that yuji is still asleep.

choso's fingers find your chin, turning you back to face him as he lowers you to his lips. "told you nothing wakes him up," he reassures.

"we can't keep doing this," you add with a shake of your head.

"you say this every time," he notes, helping you as he readjusts the straps of your dress.

"we...we went a bit too far..."

"too far is me fucking you, sweetheart..."

you gaze at him with frustration as you slither off his lap, tugging the blanket over you as shame burns your skin. you try to readjust your position, licking your lips only to find that you can still taste him on your tongue. but then he shifts, his mouth against your ear once more.

"and we haven't done that...yet."

#choso x reader #choso x you #choso smut #choso kamo #choso kamo smut #kamo choso x y/n #kamo choso x you #choso au #choso x female reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

[thewritetofreespeech]

hello! i know there's a lot of jealous astarion x tav stuff out there, but could you do a jealous tav x astarion scenario please? maybe also make it spicy??

Astarion x jealous!reader

There were very few moments for all of you to relax and take a breath these days. With the quakes getting stronger, the cult getting closer, and just Gods knew what else around the corner, it was difficult to find some time to recharge. But, you all always seemed to eventually find the time.

Down at one of the taverns, you and the group decided to break loose and have some drinks for the night. Gale and Halsin didn’t want to come. Halsin still abstain from alcohol, along with his vague comments on ‘past mishaps and making a fool of himself’ (which honestly just made it all the more intriguing), and Gale just wanting to turn in early for the night. With everything going on with Mystra recently, more and more he had been pulling back to think by himself, but assured you he would be himself again soon enough.

Karlach usually tagged along, but just wasn’t feeling crowds at the moment. It would be more strange for Laz’el to come. And Wyll had come for the start of the evening but left after one drink as he was a responsible young man.

All that was left was you, Shadowheart, and Astarion.

“This wine tastes like cat piss.”

“You’ve tasted cat piss?” You clip back. Wittier than usual now that you had a few drinks.

Astarion gave you a dull, “ha ha,” before he got up and headed for the bar to get a different vintner offering from the bar keep. “Maybe I’ll splurge a little a spend a whole 3 gold to get something a little better than the swill the rest of you are used to.”

“How people ever found him charming enough to be lured to their death will always be a mystery to me?” Shadowheart remarked before taking a sip of mead from her cup.

You chuckle at her joke and watch as Astarion made his way to the bar. Weaving in between the crowd like he was made more of mist & air, rather than flesh and blood.

Alone, you and Shadowheart chat quietly at your table before she finished her drink, dabbed her lips, and announced, “I’m going head back and turn in with the others. I trust that you and Astarion will make it back alright on your own?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Well…I wouldn’t judge if the two of you wanted to spend sometime alone. We’re usually in such close quarters together that I’m sure it’s hard to be alone with someone special.” You blush at Shadowhearts comment. Not nearly as blunt as Laz’el but also not at all subtle. “Although, perhaps he has other plans for the evening?”

You follow her eyes over to the bar. Finding Astarion instantly, but also the pretty human girl hanging on his every word; and nearly him. Astarion, for his part, not seeming nearly as put off as someone in a relationship should be by her flirtation.

“I’ll take my leave now. I don’t want to be in the middle of whatever this is turning into. If it turns out for the good, be safe and have fun. If it turns out for the worse, well…try not to get us all arrested by morning.”

She gave a small way and saw herself out of the bar. Leaving you there with your thoughts, warm ale, and a stewing feeling of dread in your gut. You try to calm yourself. But you weren’t exactly the best at tamping down your impulsive thoughts. They had gotten you this far, hadn’t they? Perhaps they could take you a little further as you went up to the bar. “Shadowheart went home.”

Astarion and his new playmate both turn to you in surprise. The former looking genuinely surprised, while the woman looked more annoyed than surprised by your interruption. “Oh. Was she feeling alright? It’s rather early.”

“Yes! The night is still young.” The woman’s hand landed on his arm, and you glare daggers at the spot it landed. Wishing for real daggers. “But, if your friend isn’t feeling well, maybe you should go and check on her.”

She was trying to muscle you out. Eliminate the competition. As far as she knew Astarion wasn’t attached, or maybe she didn’t care, so your presence is an obstacle to her goal of claiming the handsome stranger. You had to admire her boldness. You don’t think you could ever be so confident to just ‘lay claim’ to a man you had only just met and make your stance known. If it had been anyone else she claimed you would have been impressed and supportive. Women helping women. Problem was this was your man and she was competition that needed to be eliminated.

“I think I’m going home too.” You pressed further.

“But I just ordered my wine.” Astarion quipped. Seeming not to get your hint at all. But the woman did.

“Yes. We’ve just freshened our drinks.” The vampire turned his gaze to the woman with a sharp arch of his brow. Clearly communicating ‘who is this ‘we’ you speak of’ with no words at all. “Why don’t you run after your friend and he’ll see you later. Perhaps tomorrow morning?”

“Oh….”

“I’m out of here.” You didn’t bother listening to whatever excuse, silken words, or outright lies Astarion was going to tell this hell cat to get out of the hole he just dug himself, but you weren’t interested in watching him dig.

Slamming your empty mug on the counter, you turn and head for the door. Everyone parting ways for you with the mood you were in. The cold air to your face was sobering, literally, and you shrug your shoulders in as you head down the dark streets towards the inn for the night. If you walked fast enough maybe you could actually catch Shadowheart on the way.

“[Y/N]! Wait!”

You turn to look over your shoulder as Astarion called your name. Coming out of the tavern with a skid and dashing over to meet the space between you. “Where are you going? Are you really going to leave?”

“Would you rather I sit there and watch that woman paw all over you?” You jab back. But Astarion didn’t seem wounded.

“Oh that. Yes. Rather forward for a lady wasn’t she?”

“So why didn’t you stop her??”

“I don’t know.” He replied with a shrug. “Old habits.”

You huff and pull your arms in tighter against the cold. Maybe you had been wrong in assuming that Astarion thought of ‘loyalty’ the same way you did. You trusted him with your life, but maybe you couldn’t trust him in a bar. You didn’t genuinely think that he would go off with her, but even the hint of implication made your blood boil. “I get they might be ‘old habits’ but if you could not flirt with people, I would appreciate it.”

A grin slithered up on Astarion’s face. “Are you…jealous, my love?”

“No!” You snap back quickly. But his grin just gets bigger.

“Hmm…I guess it’s understandable. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve started a cat fight in a bar, you know? I just never thought you of all people would be swayed by such petty emotions.”

“I’m going home.”

You turn your back on him again, which was the worst thing to do on a vampire, and you felt him snatch you before you were suddenly in a dark alley all alone together. “I get jealous too.” He told you. Almost like a whispered confession. Able to be quiet now that you were away from the crowd, and the streets, and the noise. “I get jealous seeing you with the others. The attention you give them. It should be for me.”

“They’re just friends.” You whisper back to Astarion. Feeling as if any louder and you’d break this spell between you in the moment. You didn’t know what kind of spell it was, but you were transfixed in it.

“I get jealous of all the strangers you want to help. Literally anyone who needs help, you help them. That big heart. Where will I be, if you keep opening it up to others?”

You gasp when you felt his hand drift over your ‘heart’. “I’ll always have space for you Astarion. You shouldn’t be worried about that.”

“I get jealous of your bedroll.” His words caught you off guard. Almost as much as his teeth at your ear. “Curled up with you. Holding your body all night. Keeping you warm. It should be me.”

“You’ve never mentioned it.”

You can’t feel your breath come out in a little pant as you spoke. Enamored by Astarion and his weight against you and the wall. “We should…find some place private.”

“Here is private.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear his grin and it made your knees quiver. “Someone could see us.”

“No one will see us.” He assured you. “I’ve used this alley before.”

It was probably not the best time to bring up his past conquests when you had just had a conversation about jealousy. Or perhaps it was. Instead of feeling angry like earlier, you suddenly felt the incredible urge to erase every memory Astarion had of this alley, this place, those people, and fill him with only thoughts of you. That there were no other conquests until he claimed you.

Jealousy seemed quite the aphrodisiac. It might not have been the ‘privacy’ Shadowheart had mentioned when she made her comment. But it was fun. And no one got arrested.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers) #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #tav #baldur's gate #baldurs gate imagine #baldurs gate scenarios #bg3 imagine #bg3 scenarios #gender neutral reader

[shares-a-vest]

Happy MET Gala Day. I wrote some tags on THIS post and instantly got brainworms. cw: In this ficlet, Eddie calls Steve a slut but it is said with affection.

"Steve!" Eddie screams over his shoulder into the next room. But his voice only echoes around him, bouncing off the pristine white walls of the hotel room ensuite that he thinks is as big as his uncle's old trailer, "The car is gonna be here any minute!"

Silence.

He smoothes his hands down his lapel one last time and smiles at his reflection before he turns on his heel and rushes into the hotel suite where he finds Steve right where he left him, in a make-up chair getting all dolled up by Chrissy with Robin by his side.

She is asleep in a bedazzled bathrobe and honestly, Eddie would prefer to join her. Not only is attending the MET Gala an expensive evening (Eddie loathes to think how much money Steve has spent in the lead-up to all this), but it all involves being gawked at and judged and repeatedly asked the same three questions by the press who are just going to make him come off like a real asshole anyway.

"Just getting glam done," Steve says, grimacing as Robin gives a grunting snore.

"Stop eating those flowers, Erica..." she mumbles, dipping her head and nuzzling into the plushy warmth of her collar.

Chrissy rolls her eyes and steps back to examine her handiwork.

Whatever that is, Eddie can't really tell. Steve looks just like his regular pretty self with maybe a spot of shimmering blush. He opens his eyes, fluttering his lashes and – well yeah, whatever Chrissy did makes his eyes pop more than usual.

But those eyes quickly grow dark, shadowed by a frown when Steve gives Eddie a once over.

"Is that your outfit?" he accuses.

Eddie nods and does a little twirl only to spin back around to the sight of Steve pursing his lips.

So much for pleasantly surprising each other with their outfits – the only thing that had Eddie giving this whole deal an ounce of his attention.

"Well it isn't on theme," he continues, shrugging with a nonchalance that would give Anna Wintour herself a run for her money.

"What are you talking about?" Eddie defends, "I'm wearing lace!"

He flaps his jacket to reveal a sheer black lace shirt before lifting his touser legs enough to show off his matching socks.

Steve pinches his nose.

"Eddie, that is a bare minimum!"

Eddie flails his hand in the direction of Steve's barely-there shirt, a sheer number that shows all of his chest hair.

"Excuse me for not dressing like a total slut."

He blushes as Steve stands up to reveal a similarly sheer pair of pants (if you could call them that). Underneath is nothing short of a goddamn codpiece that Eddie is certain won't cover his boyfriend's whole ass and –

Robin snorts again, causing Chrissy to giggle.

She nudges her partner and Robin startles awake, almost tipping back in her makeup chair and Eddie realises that 'doing glam' has taken so goddamn long, all because Buckley decided she needed the world's biggest feathery eyelashes.

"Boring!" she says, taking one bleary-eyed look (if she can see through those bird wings, that is) at Eddie's outfit.

She blows a raspberry for good measure.

Steve turns, chuckling and yep – that is at least half of his ass hanging out in some sort of lace-assless-chaps-codpiece situation that has no business being anywhere but on their marital bed – or a paid-for hotel equivalent.

Maybe they should just stay right here, Eddie thinks as he looks, his mouth agape as he ogles the sight before him.

"Calm down, Eddie," Chrissy warns with a wicked grin.

"Well, it's far too late now for us to do anything about it," Steve pouts, throwing on a floral-embroidered vest that at least covers a shred of his modesty, "I told you to come see my stylist."

"What about my brooch!" Eddie shrieks, pointing to the diamond-encrusted rose pin just above his breast pocket, "It's crystal."

#idk i imagine eddie is a rockstar and steve is a sports star of some description #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #famous au #👕🧥

[wereallydobevibing]

Too Young | John Price x Reader

I used to post my stories on tiktok under the username @codlover but I figured since tiktok might get banned I should delete that account and post it here. Here’s one of the stories.

Feel free to use my work as a prompt/inspiration. Better yet, feel free to write your ideal part 2 just MAKE SURE YOU CREDIT AND TAG ME.

WARNINGS: Age Gap

“Welcome home, Captain.”

As he falls back in his seat, his gaze lifts to meet yours - his little muse behind a marble counter, his favorite bartender at his favorite bar. 

“That’s John to you, sweetheart,” He says, and he watches with satisfaction as you wordlessly pour out his usual drink without even having to ask what he was having.

You were a young girl, early twenties, working towards your bachelors at the nearest university, but before that, you’d gone to trade school. You were a hard worker; doing hair in the morning, attending classes in the noon, closing the bar at night, studying any minute that was free. 

I’ll breathe when I have everything I want, you told him one night, when he noticed how your shoulders seemed to be heavy with the weight of your profusion of responsibilities. He wished he could help you carry some of them, or at least blow some air into those lungs that seemed to collapse whenever finals came around. 

John admired you – sweet, smart, and focused. He would’ve liked to have you on his Taskforce if that’d been that path that you chose, but, for the sake of flirting, perhaps bartending was the better option. 

He’ll miss you when you graduate and go off to start a new chapter in your life. 

You set the drink down on the counter, pushing it forwards and leaning your weight on your elbows. It was a slow night, but you figured now that John Price was here to pay you his company, time would tick faster than you wanted it to. 

The first hour and a half of his visit is a basic conversation – how was deployment, how does it feel to be home, how long before his next call in? He talks a little about his team – you’ve heard about “Soap” and “Ghost” and “Gaz” many times before, Price only ever allows you to know them by their callsigns, though, for privacy's sake, and only tells you very minor details. But after one or two glasses, Price allows himself to be free of his professional nature. His 141 men know 

“How come you never bring your boys around here, Captain?” 

“John,” You’re leaning so closely, he’s able to flick your nose as he corrects you. Not too hard, but very much playful. “And if I brought my boys around here, they’d never leave. Soap might steal my favorite girl.”

“Your favorite girl is too busy to be stolen, John,” You remind him, and you don’t say I’m too busy trying to give myself to you.  

Closing time comes all too quickly, as you figured it would. On a Monday night, there are generally very few customers, and you’re able to start your side work at exactly eleven o’clock. John sticks around as you clean up and count the register, offering his company. Being that he was such a regular, he even knows where to find the broom and shortens your to-do list by sweeping the floor. 

This is your favorite part, when you lock up the door and begin your walk home with Captain John Price at your side, allowing you to hook your arm through his. Like a gentleman, he’s always happy to walk you home. 

“No boyfriend, yet, [Y/N]?” He says, lighting a cigar, “No one to tell me off for walking so close to their girl?”

You giggle, “No boyfriend. If I did, though, I don’t think you’d be one to be worried about it. Unless it was that guy you mentioned earlier – Soap? Maybe you could introduce us?”

“He’s too much fun, I think,” John sniggered.

“Are you saying I’m too serious?”

“Serious enough, fun enough. Soap is too much fun.”

 “Aww,” You feign a pout, “You don’t want me to like him, do you?”

As you finally approach your apartment door, John lightly shoves you toward it. He pulls the cigar away from his lips, leaning against the wall with a smirk. 

“You can have that one if you want, love,” he says, “Don’t come bothering me when you’re with him, though. Can’t have both.”

“No, I couldn’t,” You agree, you gesture to your apartment, “You won’t let me let you in.”

He hums, watching you unlock and push open the door. You lift your eyes to gaze up at him through your lashes, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips. 

“Come have a glass with me, John, I can bartend for you here, too.”

The back of his hand reached out, stroking the subtle skin of your cheek. He would love to come inside and know the structure of your home, and the decorations that would be a complimentary extension of your personality. When it came to you, he was Pandora and you were his box. 

You were a beautiful girl, and the thought of having your company outside of your work hours was enticing. He wanted to know you like the back of his own hand, he wanted to see what was inside this box, but John knew better than to cross this line – that line being your doorway. 

Oh, how he wished he was at least ten years younger. 

“You know I can only go so far with you, love,” He says, taking another draw from his cigar. “Your doormat is the limit.”

It’s not the first time you heard that, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. As mentioned earlier, you were an ambitious girl; you were often berated in your early childhood by your mother for trying to get away with the same stuff over and over and over again until you finally learned the secret to getting away with your innocent little crimes successfully.

As you said once before, you’ll breathe when you have everything you ever wanted. 

Blaze

0 notes

#john price x reader #john price #simon riley #kyle garrick #john mactavish #soap #ghost #x reader #call of duty #cod #modern warfare

[theother-victoria]

now I’m thinking about going to see aventurine perform at a concert thanks to that animated short…

TAGS: nothing but cuteness, use of his real name, not proofread this is pure word vomit, just a little something between studying for finals, can you tell I love writing him as an affectionate loser, 1.3k wc

When Aventurine told you that he’d be performing at the upcoming Robin concert as the lead guitarist, you were pleasantly surprised, to put it shortly. He’s a man of many talents, but how he managed to secure a spot alongside the famous singer is beyond you. 

You don’t even have to ask if you could go. As soon as you’re about to pop the question, he presses something into your hand- tickets to the best seats in the venue and a highly coveted VIP backstage pass that you know people will be fighting to get their hands on. 

In the weeks leading up to the performance, he’s busy practicing. When he’s home, the sounds of him making his way through a difficult passage can be heard, along with the soft meows of your cat critter pets as they gather around him curiously. You’re the one to massage his cramping hands after hours of practice and kiss his weary fingertips that are starting to callus.

(“It’s sounding really good so far. You should take a break now,” you say as you set down some snacks and tea besides him. He shoots you a thankful smile but makes no move to stop practicing.

“No, it has to be perfect. After all, you’re going to be there. I can’t have my darling seeing me at anything less than my best, can I?”)

When the day of the performance comes and you arrive at the venue with a bouquet of flowers in hand, he’s already waiting and greets you with a big kiss on the lips and a grin on his face.

“Darling, you’re here! And so early at that. Are these for me? Aw, you shouldn’t have!”

He’s quick to lead you backstage into the dressing rooms, where you see all the performers getting ready. The star of tonight’s show, Robin, is sitting at her vanity doing her makeup, gorgeous as ever. But in addition to her, you also spot a couple of other faces. A Knight of Beauty, the retainer of the Xianzhou Luofu’s general, and a… Stellaron Hunter? 

(From the back of your mind, you recall something about Aventurine telling you that it wasn’t just Robin performing; it was a collaboration with talented people from all over the galaxy. What a colorful cast of performers tonight… seems like that was true.)

It doesn’t take much convincing from him for you to help him with his makeup. You pull a chair up next to him as you begin doing his eyeliner.

“I know I can always count on you, darling.”

The look on his face is smug and you scowl.

“Stay still otherwise your eyeliner is going to end up all wobbly.”

Your face is illuminated by the led lights on the mirror and your brows are scrunched in concentration. He chuckles a bit before stealing a kiss from your lips, laughing when you sharply gasp. It’s a cute look on you, he thinks. But he likes seeing you flustered more. 

One of the stage crew members lets everyone know the show is about to begin. The other performers speed through the last of their makeup or warm-ups before leaving, until it’s just the two of you in the empty room.

With the start of the performance mere minutes away, stage fright is getting to Aventurine, even if he tries to brush it off. He adjusts his hat every few seconds and keeps fiddling with his guitar pick in place of his usual poker chip.

“Nervous?”

“Hah, me? Never,” he confidently declares, but you don’t miss the nervous quiver in his voice. You merely roll your eyes and sigh before stepping closer to him. One hand reaches out to fix his tie while the other reaches behind his back to grasp his left hand clenched into a tight fist. Your thumb traces soothing circles over the skin. The tension dissipates from his hand as he slowly unclenches his fist and lets it fall back to his side. 

“You’ll do amazing,” you say as you redo his tie. “You’ve been practicing so much you could play everything in your sleep at this point. And if you get nervous, know that I’m there in the audience. Just keep your eyes on me and it’ll all be fine.”

You tug at his tie one last time.

“All done now. Look at you, so handsome.” 

“For your eyes only,” he teases back with a wink. 

You pat down his suit jacket and adjust his hat one last time.

“Go and steal the show now, Kakavasha.”

He gives you a cheeky grin.

“No good luck kiss?”

“You don’t even need one considering you were blessed by a goddess. But come here.”

Yes, he demands a good luck kiss before the show begins. Yes, he also demands kisses during intermission where he sweeps you off your feet in an affectionate hug coupled with kisses all over your face.

“How was I back there?” he asks once he sets you down. He doesn’t seem to mind that others are watching with varying levels of amusement but he’s always been unapologetically shameless with his displays of affection. 

“Perfect,” you say. “You sounded even better up on stage than at home.”

But it’s not over yet. He has a solo in one of the pieces during the second half of the concert, and it’s what he’s most worried about.

Aventurine’s eyes wander during the pieces leading up to his solo and he notices a perpetually yellow lightstick glowing in the VIP section near the stage. Robin is performing right now, meaning that almost all of the lightsticks are glowing white. 

He smiles to himself. You really are too supportive of him. 

Robin stops singing and now it’s his time to shine. The spotlight hones in on him and follows him down the stage to the screams of fans. The lightsticks quickly switch from white to yellow, but his eyes are on one person only. 

You scream his name followed by an enthusiastic “I love you!” so loudly that you think you’ve made the people next to you go deaf. His gaze meets yours under the blinding lights and the way he looks at you- you think you’ve fallen in love all over again.

Like you told him to, he keeps his eyes on you. His breathing slows down and his trembling fingers gripping the fingerboard stop shaking. He readjusts his stance and without any further hesitation, dives into his solo.

Many in the audience vye for his attention, smitten by his good looks. They reach for him as he passes by, but his attention is on one person only. Your gaze grounds him, keeps the stage fright at bay, and encourages him to keep going, if only to fulfill his wish of you seeing him at nothing less than his very best. 

His solo is flawless. Perfect. As the last note reverberates through the air to the cheers of adoring fans, his eyes seek you out once more. His heart pounds in his chest, riding off the high of a successful performance- and your loving gaze. 

You watch as Aventurine spins around in place, seeking you out. When his eyes meet yours, you wave your lightstick excitedly and blow him kisses. You see the adrenaline rush written clearly all over his face, but also the joy in his eyes after seeing your pride in him. He pretends to catch the kisses you blow his way before blowing a few back. Your entire section erupts in chaos, but you alone stay put, gazing up at him with a tender and proud look that he always feels like he never deserves.

But tonight, he feels like he does. 

Aventurine is a born actor, able to fool everyone and himself. But in a crowd of many, he’ll always bare his heart for you. 

#—stellaronhvnters. #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #aventurine #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr fluff #hsr fanfic #hsr imagines #victoria.writes

[janaispunk]

heaven can't help me now

chapter 3 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You're afraid Dave might not like you as much as you like him. ...Meanwhile, Dave is afraid of the same thing. (They're idiots okay)

word count: 6.5k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, phone sex, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, biting, cream pie, use of panties as a gag, orgasm denial, pet names, let me know if anything is missing!

a/n: co-written with my angel @joelscurls, throwing around these ideas with you is so fun, i love you <3

taylor swift said “what if he’s written mine on my upper thigh” and i took that personally

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading! <3 (and listening to me freak out about this on a daily basis)

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @janaispunknotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

Dave regrets the message as soon as the small text underneath it switches from delivered to read. 

He knows that he’s been cruel to you, he could see the confusion and hurt written all over your face when he drove you home. But he has to be the responsible one, the adult in this situation. The one who’s able to hold back. Nothing should have happened between you and him, not once, let alone twice. He shouldn’t indulge in this, shouldn’t give you hope. 

He has always looked down on men who were with women much younger than them. Midlife crisis. Not able to have a relationship with someone on the same maturity level. 

That’s not who he is. He understands that the reason why you’re attracted to him lies at least partially in your relationship with your father, and he won’t take advantage of that. It’s not who he is and it’s not what you deserve. 

You’re gonna go back to college in a few weeks and he can pretend that none of this ever happened. You’re gonna meet a nice boy your age, become a lawyer, get married and live your life the way you’re supposed to. Eventually, the memory of you writhing underneath him, your voice so sweet and needy in your desperation, surely won’t be as vivid as it is right now.

But then he found your panties between the cushions of his couch, still damp with your arousal, still smelling of you. His mind started wandering, conjuring images that he should be ashamed of. The things he could do to you, the things he could show you. 

It’s like he’s lost in a haze, stroking his throbbing cock to fantasies of you, all the depraved shit that some respectful fellow student would never do, but that he knows you crave. He hears your whimpers so clearly in his head, pictures your face, so pretty begging him for things only he knows how to give you, until he releases himself all over the lacy bit of fabric that’s clutched between his fingers. 

But now you’re not answering, and shame is swirling in his stomach, surely now he’s overstepped, why did he even think– 

His racing thoughts are interrupted by the quiet ping of his phone and a message from you. Just a photo, no text. 

His eyes widen, taking in the image. He can’t see your face, only the shape of your tits, already so familiar to him, covered in dark, lacy fabric. Exactly the same color, exactly the same pattern as the fabric that he soiled and photographed to send to you.

You put on the matching bra for him, he realizes. Which is probably why it took you longer than usual to answer, you had to get into the lingerie and put yourself all prettily on display for him. He drinks in the shape of you, the skin that he knows would feel so soft underneath his touch, the swell of your breasts, the nipples hidden behind lace, how they would harden for him, how you would squirm if he–

Desire starts coursing through him again, and he feels like a teenager, reduced to this by just a photo. His thumb finds your name on the display almost instinctively.

“Fuck, baby.”

The rasp of his voice hits your ear as soon as you accept the call. Your heart had been hammering away inside your chest since you hit send on the photo. 

“You like it?” 

You hate how needy you sound, how desperate for his approval. David exhales sharply and you wish you were with him again.

“Trust me, I like it very much.” 

Your cheeks heat at his tone. He blows all other thoughts out of your head. You forget how rejected you felt, how you told yourself you wouldn’t let it happen again. It doesn’t matter, not when he talks to you like this. You whisper a thank you and he chuckles. 

“Are you in bed, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip, considering the words resting on the top of your tongue. Deciding to take the leap. “Wish you were here too.”

You don’t need to see his face to know how he purses his lips, how he slowly curls them into a smirk.

“Mhm? What would you like me to do if I was?” 

Your face burns hotter. 

“I– Touch me, use your fingers to–” 

He groans, a rich, deep sound in your ear. You’re still sore, but your fingertips ghost down your body anyway, chasing the need that’s building up between your legs again. You gasp when they find your clit, already swollen and covered in your slick. 

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“Yes, please David, I need–”

“Don’t worry, baby. I got you.” 

He keeps talking to you, low murmurs in your ear, directing your fingers over your body. He doesn’t let up until you’ve come twice, until he’s reduced you to a whimpering mess without even being there. 

He doesn’t apologize for earlier, not directly at least. You didn’t expect him to. In a twisted way, that you’re not sure anyone but the two of you would understand, this was his apology. 

You’re not sure what changed his mind, but he doesn’t go back to his distant self afterwards. Maybe he’s come to the same realization as you. That neither of you is going to be able to stay away. 

He’s on your mind constantly, you catch yourself checking your phone for new messages way too often and smiling down at the screen whenever he’s texting you. You know that you shouldn’t act like this, shouldn’t give him that much power in your mind. But it feels so good, to be seen, to be wanted like that. 

You’re both busy; he’s working on an important case and you’re in desperate need to catch up on job applications and college work, which you’ve neglected over the past few days, as your father is quick to remind you. 

But you keep exchanging messages, keep sharing hushed whispers at night. It never lets up, the thrill of his voice guiding your fingers and hearing the sounds that he makes when he’s putting his hands on himself. Knowing that it’s you, the thought of you that elicits them. 

You’re having dinner with your father, who is home earlier than most days, the brightly lit dining room reflecting off the massive windows, when the bubble bursts. 

“You remember Dave, right? From the country club?”

You freeze, your fork hovering in the air over your plate. He knows, your mind screams. No, there’s no way he would know. 

You fight hard to appear nonchalant, to not let your face betray you. You nod, humming questioningly in a way that you hope sounds innocent enough. 

“I told you how he got divorced recently, didn’t I? It’s been hard on him, poor fella…” 

Your dad sighs and shakes his head. You furrow your brow, at a complete loss where this conversation might be going. 

“Well, guess who got him a date?! Cheryl from the office is single and I realized, she’s perfect for him! An amazing match. He never goes out, always been a bit of a loner, I guess… But I set them up and they went out last night! Great, huh?” 

Your mind is running a mile a minute. You force a weak smile, lifting your head to meet your father’s proud grin. 

“Y-yeah, dad. Great,” you echo. You feel hollow.

He leans back in his chair, looking extremely pleased with himself. 

“Looks like I’m gonna have to play matchmaker for you too, eventually, with the way things are going, hm?” 

Under different conditions, the snide remark about your dating life and how he’s never been even remotely happy with any guy you had dared to bring home, would sting a lot more. Right now though, you’re reeling from the fact that David went out with another woman last night. 

“Sure,” you whisper. “May I please be excused?” 

You don’t wait for an answer, already pushing back from the table and rushing up the stairs. Back in your room, you grab your phone, scrolling through your past messages. You didn’t hear from him last night, which you hadn’t found weird at the time, but it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth now. 

Maybe he finally realized that someone his age would be much better suited for him. A real woman, not some little girl who still goes to school, calls him drunk in the middle of the night and can’t stand up against her father. Of course that’s not what he wants. 

You pace in your room, thoughts running through your head. Do you confront him? You never talked about it, never discussed exclusivity, but still… You don’t want anyone else and you had thought that he wouldn’t either.

After tossing and turning in your bed for hours, you decide not to ask David about it, to not contact him at all. Maybe that’s for the best. Save him the trouble of letting you down. It’s like a weight pulling under, the uncertainty and fear of this being it tying itself into a tight knot in your stomach. But you’ve been desperate enough for him already, you try to reason, you need to stop embarrassing yourself by running after him. 

He texts you the next day, sounding just the same way he always does. You can’t bring yourself to not reply to him at all, but it’s clipped, one-sentence answers, which he picks up on soon enough. His name lights up your phone as you’re hunched over your desk in your bedroom, pondering over an essay that you’re supposed to write over the break. 

“Hello?” 

“Sweetheart.” The deep smoothness of his voice travels from the speaker right under your skin, holding you under his spell the way he always does. “Is something wrong?”

You bite your lip, muttering a no in reply. You sound like a petulant teenager, everything that you don’t want him to see you as.

“Now why do I not believe that?”

You hear his smile in the way he sounds. You want to see him so badly, want to be on the receiving end of that smile. You wonder if Cheryl from the office got to see it last night too. If he’s given her all the parts of him that he’s given you. 

“Dunno.” There’s a sting in your voice, not unlike the sting that you feel piercing through your heart at the thought of him with someone else. 

Dave frowns at the way you sound. You’re never this short with him, never seemed so sad since that night you called him drunk and he turned you down. And even then, it was different, not dismissive the way you are now. 

His anxious mind immediately provides him with a variety of explanations. Maybe you’ve finally come to your senses and realized that you don’t want him. That you don’t want a man twice your age, that him wanting you actually makes him a fucking creep, that he isn’t as great as you’ve built him up to be in your head. Maybe you’ve realized that what you’re doing is wrong. He wouldn’t blame you for it. One of you should be reasonable and end things for good. He has been telling himself that.

But you sound so upset that worry settles in his gut. He feels that pull towards you again, only that it’s not explicitly sexual this time. He just really needs to see you, to touch you, to make sure that you’re okay. 

The invitation for you to come over leaves his lips without thinking about it, just the overwhelming need to have you close. You pause, so long that he gets even more uneasy, but eventually you agree.

Dave knows that something is wrong as soon as he opens the door. You look smaller, slightly curling in on yourself. You don’t meet his gaze, eyes downturned and without the spark in them that he sees in his mind when he thinks about you. He pulls you into a hug, one that you barely return.

His bedroom door is once again firmly closed, and he’s directing you towards his couch again. Still the last invisible line, the one that he tells himself will keep him from letting you in all the way. Your eyes linger there for a moment, he can almost see the wheels turning in your head. You deflate even more.

He hates to see you like this. Fights the urge to wrap you in his arms, satisfy his hunger for your lips and fuck you until every trace of that sadness written over your face is erased.

The door that you presume leads to his bedroom is closed, just like the last time you were here. You wonder if he opened it for Cheryl, if she got to see a part of him that you didn’t. Then again, he probably treated her like a lady. Wined and dined her properly, maybe a chaste kiss to say good night. Because she’s someone who’s right for him, someone worth putting the effort in. Not the quick fuck that you had been. 

He probably invited you over to tell you in person that he really can’t see you anymore. That he means it this time. You suppose that in his mind, that’s the decent thing to do. You think that you would have rather had him text you about it. That way you wouldn’t have to pretend, wouldn’t have to tell him to his face that it’s fine, that you understand, don’t worry.

Still, he called and you came running. Like a fucking idiot. 

You sit down on the edge of his couch, decidedly keeping the images of the last time you were here buried in your memories. “Do you want something to drink?” You shake your head no and he sits down beside you. You’re acutely aware of his presence, of the simmering need that you feel for him, even now. Please just get it over with.

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know.” You’re not looking at him, keeping your eyes on your hands, your fingers gripping each other tightly, tense like the rest of your body.

“Do all what?” 

You bite your lip, attempting to swallow down the anger at the fact that he’s gonna make you the one to say it, but it’s no use. Your eyes fly up to meet his. 

“Make me come here, to talk to me in person, or whatever it is you think you’re doing. You– you could’ve just texted me.”

He furrows his brow, a hint of defensiveness in his warm brown eyes. 

“What are you talking about?” 

You scoff. “My dad told me. About your date.” You’re never like this, your voice biting and your eyes glaring. You’re never like this and you have no right to be like this now, getting worked up over the end of something that never even was, not really. “I’m sure she’s nice. A great match, he said, so you’re gonna tell me to fuck off. It’s okay, I understand.”

Your voice breaks on the last word. A lump is building in your throat and your eyes burn with unshed tears. This can’t be happening. It’s bad enough that you feel this much about it, but it’s indefinitely worse to have him know it. 

David’s expression softens. “Oh, sweetheart. That’s not–” He slips one hand in between yours, gently pries your fingers away from each other. “You thought that’s why I asked you to come over here?” 

You shrug, once again unable to meet his gaze. 

“The date was shit. I wouldn’t even have gone if Jim hadn’t kept bugging me about it.”

Inhaling deeply, you slowly trail your eyes up to his face again. 

“Really?”

He nods, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest. His lips press against your forehead. 

“Promise.” He sighs. “You sounded so upset, that’s why I asked you to come–”

You sniffle, suddenly feeling stupid about the whole scene you made. He holds you a little longer, and you revel in his scent that’s engulfing you, in the warmth and solidness of his body. When he finally pulls away, his hand finds your chin and lifts it until you’re looking straight at him. A hint of amusement is glinting in his eyes.

“Were you jealous, baby?” 

You’re well aware that he can see right through you, but shake your head anyway. He allows himself a grin.

“What then? Worried that you’ll find no one else to fuck you like I do?” 

Heat is burning in your cheeks, but you can’t help but laugh. He’s not wrong, at least partially. 

Your lips curling up and the soft laugh tumbling out of you soothes him, eases the sting in his chest. The severity of your reaction to the idea of him dumping you for another woman took him off guard. He never wants to see that kind of hurt written over your face ever again. 

He should have told you, he realizes that now. He knew nothing would come out of meeting with that woman that Jim had been boasting about all week, but what was he supposed to say? No need pal, I already got everything I need fucking your daughter? 

He doesn’t know when you began feeling like everything he needed. He knows that you shouldn’t. He knows that he shouldn’t check his phone as often as he does, shouldn’t spend his days fantasizing about you, shouldn’t imagine you by his side almost constantly. 

But how can he not, when you’re looking at him like this, your eyes so wide, so filled with trust. Always ready, always desperate to give him everything of you. Like a dream come true that he didn’t know he had. 

“Maybe,” you admit, teasingly but still so, so soft. Everything about you is so fucking soft. His to touch, his to defile. Because, inexplicably, you fucking let him.

He needs to reassure you that he’s worthy of that trust. He leans in closer, feels your breath ghosting over his face as his nose nudges against yours. He pauses, searches your expression for a moment. You dip your chin down in a tiny nod and he’s onto you, chases your mouth with his. He pours all the emotion that he doesn’t understand, can’t begin to name, into the kiss. How much he misses you, how often you are on his mind. How he doesn’t want to hurt you, wants to do right by you, but has no clue how.

Your lips move against his with more fervor, a mess of tongues and teeth clashing against one another. Your whimpers drip into his mouth, leaving him drunk off you. Heat spreads through him, like a fire that’s going to consume you both. He thinks that he wants it to. 

He trails kisses down your throat, sucks at the skin, relishes in the shivers that it sends through your body. You grasp at his shirt, trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons, but he stops you. Nipping at your collarbone, he looks up at you, takes in your wide blown pupils, the hunger in your eyes.

Maybe this is all he can give you, but he’s going to do that right. He’s going to give you what he can, as long as you let him. 

He hooks his fingers under the neckline of your dress, pulls it down a little, inhales the sweet scent of your perfume. Every new inch of your skin that he reveals fills him with the need to worship it. 

“Will you let me make it up to you, sweetheart?” He mouths at your skin again, his eyes still trained on your face. “Let me make you feel good?” 

You nod eagerly, a breathy please, David falling from your lips. He runs his hands up your thighs, marvels at the almost feverish warmth of your skin, before he lifts your dress and helps you pull it over your head. 

Your underwear is white this time, a picture of innocence that only he knows is an illusion. His arousal swells at the thought, his cock pushing against the confines of his pants. 

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this,” he admits, his hands trailing over your waist, tightening his grip momentarily and enjoys watching you squirm in response. “I think about you all the time.” 

Your gaze flickers for a moment, and he realizes what he just said. It’s not a lie, but also not a truth that he intended for you to know. You bite your lip, expression turning thoughtful for a moment. Then a small smile spreads over your face. 

“M–me too,” you whisper, a bit shy, like you’re still half-expecting him to take it back, but putting your trust in him anyway. 

He has to kiss you again, remove all remaining doubts about how much he wants you from your mind. Licking into your mouth, he starts toying with the cups of your bra, pulling them down just so that his fingertips can graze over your nipples. You press your body into his touch, your back arching off the cushions, and he undoes the clasp, lets the fabric fall away from your body. 

He runs his fingers over your flesh, teases the hardening buds, loves the way you keen into his mouth in response. Palming your tits roughly, he pulls away a little to look at them. He doesn’t think that he’ll ever tire of the sight of his hands on you. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmurs. “Like you were made for me.” It stings only a little right in this moment, while he’s touching you, to know that you are not. He can keep pretending, for a while. It’s worth it, seeing how you light up at the praise, how you drink in his every word, sinking deeper into his touch. His, his, his.

David peels your panties off of you, the image of the white lace against his hand one that you know will burn itself into your memory. His eyes linger on the fabric, a grin slowly growing on his face. Arousal tingles at your spine at the sight. You’re entirely bare now while he hasn’t removed one item of clothing. The obvious power dynamic leaves you feeling vulnerable, you and your body at his mercy, but you trust him. To treat you the way you want, need to be treated, to push you to your limits and to still keep you safe.

The weight of his hands lands on your thighs, slowly pushing them apart, making room for his body between them. You’re acutely aware of how wet you are, and how clearly he can see it right now, with your folds all spread out right in front of him. You feel your slick coating your inner thighs, feel his breath ghosting against it.

He groans at the sight and sinks to his knees, almost at eye level with your pussy. The realization of what he’s about to do sinks in as he leans forward and places a gentle kiss against your clit that has you trembling. But still–

“Y–you don’t have to do that,” you stutter, suddenly feeling a different kind of vulnerable. A shame that you can’t explain starts welling up inside of you. 

He pulls back, sitting back on his haunches and looking up at you. His hands gently push your thighs back together, leaving you less exposed. 

“Do you not want me to?”

You bite your lip, fighting not to avoid his gaze. “I don’t know. I– I’ve never–” Your voice trails off. A fire is burning in his eyes, intimidating you. 

“No one’s ever eaten you out?” He sounds incredulous. 

You shake your head, shoulders moving up in a shrug, a wave of embarrassment growing in you. “Men don’t really… like to. In my experience.” 

He sighs and leans forward, presses a soft kiss to your left knee. “Most men are idiots.” It’s mumbled into your skin, lips moving against it. His fingertips inch up your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “You deserve to feel good, baby.” His voice sinks into your skin, low and raspy, and you have no choice but to believe it. “Will you let me make you feel good?” he asks again.

His dark eyes are on you, his fingers still tracing shapes over your skin. So close to where you want him. You’d let him do anything. 

“Please, David,” you whisper, for the second time. 

He pries your legs back open, a low growl in his throat as you’re spread out for him. Then he dives in, licking and sucking at your clit, gently at first, but quickly getting more intense, until stars start to burst behind your eyelids and you’re gasping his name. It’s overwhelming, unlike anything that you’ve ever experienced before. 

He lets up momentarily, licking through your slit, drinking up your arousal that’s dripping out of you and groaning at the taste of you. His mouth moves to your inner thighs, kissing and sucking on the sensitive flesh. He bites down suddenly, sinking his teeth into your skin and you scream his name at the unexpected burst of pain that transforms into pleasure almost instantly. 

He does it again, and again, leaving his marks on your body. It hurts just right, the sensation of him leaving his trace on you, marking you as his. You clench around nothing, desperate to feel him on your clit again, to take you the final bit to the top. 

As if he was reading your mind, he lets up his ministrations on your thighs and kisses his way to the spot where you need him so desperately. Your fingers sink into his hair, tugging at the roots, and he looks up at you, smug pride glinting in his eyes. He licks through your folds, nudges at your entrance with his tongue, before his lips find your clit again, closing around the sensitive nub. 

You come within seconds, the waves of your arousal crashing over you so suddenly that it takes your breath away. His groans vibrate against your skin as he laps at you, drinking you down. You feel like you’re in heaven. 

David gives you time to calm down, gently mouths at your heated skin, licks over the spots where you feel the indents of his teeth, before he kisses his way up your body. You taste yourself on his lips when they connect with yours. It’s messy, and filthy, and you can’t get enough of it. 

You whimper when he pulls back and his eyes find yours again, his almost black, the pupils blown wide. He rises to his feet and looks down to where you’re spread out, thighs parted, on full display for him as he towers over you. He leans down, a finger tapping against your mouth.

“Open.” 

Your lips part immediately, giving him all the access he wants. He groans at your obedience, trails his knuckles over your cheek for a moment, before raising his hand to your eyes. He’s holding your panties again. 

“These are so pretty. Would be a shame to just leave them lying around, don’t you think?” 

You let out a sound, something akin to agreement. His grin widens. 

“Good girl.” 

His fingers push the fabric into your mouth, your spit soaking the material, mixing with the arousal that’s already sticking to it. You moan at the taste, your eyelids fluttering shut. 

His palm connects with your cheek in a light slap. Not hard enough to sting, but your eyes fly back open at the sensation. You grind down onto the cushions, desperate for friction as another wave of need floods you. 

“Eyes on me, remember?” 

You try voicing a sorry, but it comes out garbled and he chuckles. Soothing his fingers over the spot he just slapped. 

“There’s no need for you to talk. Just be a good girl and take what I give you, yeah?” 

Your body is buzzing, but your mind is blissfully empty. Ready to give yourself over to him, to submit to whatever he asks. It feels so good, so easily being able to please for once in your life. To follow rules and be praised for it. Simple. Safe. 

He wraps the lace around your head and ties it together in the back, effectively gagging you, leaving your mouth opened, the fabric stretching against the corners. Your desire is coursing through your body with so much force that it’s almost painful. 

He kisses you over the gag, pressing his lips against yours. One of his hands wraps around your throat, applying a hint of pressure. Your hips chase him, your arousal close to unbearable. He chuckles against your mouth before he pulls back.

“Such a good girl.”

He teases you endlessly. Drinks in the sight of you writhing under him as his fingers are back on your nipples, tugging them harshly and eliciting soft mewls from you. You look beautiful in the golden light of the evening sun that’s falling through his windows, almost angelic. 

An angel that he wrecked, already so fucked out when he finally sheds his own clothes and starts sliding his cock through your folds. He coats himself with the slick of your desire, taps his head against your clit, nudges at your entrance again and again without sliding inside. 

Your whimpering cries are music to his ears, your fingernails digging into his shoulders sting just right. You’re pleading with him through the makeshift gag, your words all muffled, and he revels in the desperation in your eyes. Loves the sight of it. 

“What do you want, sweetheart?” he coos, slides over your clit again. “Tell me.” 

You’re trying, trying so hard to get out real words, and he chuckles at your efforts. Deciding to grant you a little mercy, he pushes the head of his weeping cock into you. He throbs at the feeling of it, of how your slick pissy tries pulling him in deeper. You’re whining at the stretch, your hands desperately grabbing at him, before he pulls back again. 

Your eyes are swimming with tears, silently pleading with him. It’s like a rush. You’re always such a good, polite and well-behaved girl, so sweet, and here you are, completely bare and spread out underneath him, crying to get fucked. By him. He’s a bad man, he knows it. He doesn’t care, not when it feels like this. 

He smirks down at you. “Say please.” 

It’s obvious that you’re trying, your tongue struggling against the soaked fabric in your mouth. He lines himself up once more, looks at your face, at the desperate hope written out in your eyes. Then he slams into you. You scream, gripping his shoulders so tightly that he thinks you’ve drawn blood. He couldn’t care less.

Now that he feels your tight walls all around his cock, engulfing him with pulsing heat, it’s impossible to tease you any longer. He pulls back, just to sink deep into you, again and again. You cry out at every thrust, every time that he hits that spot deep inside of you that leaves you such a trembling mess. 

He can tell when you’re starting to tighten around him, your cries getting higher, and he knows that you’re close. Slowing down, he leans his head down to yours, his thrusts becoming more shallow. 

“Hold it,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting against the soft shell of your ear. A whine escapes from your throat, fresh tears falling from your eyes, your whole body trembling underneath him, your cunt squeezing him deliciously tight. He’s breathless, high on the control you’re giving him, on your level of obedience, doing every single thing that he asks from you. 

Letting you calm down a little, he busies himself with kissing every inch of your skin that he can reach. Almost bursting with arousal himself, he knows that he’s not gonna be able to keep this up much longer. 

When he speeds up again, he sets a harsh rhythm, jostling your body with every thrust, mesmerized by the way your tits bounce with the movement. Your walls start tightening around him again, pulling him in. He can’t hold back anymore. 

“I’m gonna come. Gonna leave you just as messy as those little panties of yours. ‘S that what you want?” 

You nod eagerly, more unintelligible pleads stumbling through the gag. 

“Fuck, come here–“ His fingers scramble, ripping the fabric out of your mouth to kiss you properly, to feel your tongue against his. 

His hips move at rapid speed, pumping into you and chasing both your orgasms. He’s breathless, high on the feeling of your wet cunt squeezing him so tight. You come with a cry, muffled by his mouth on yours, and the sensation of you clenching around him sends him over the edge as well. He buries himself deep inside of you, spilling his cum to leave you just as messy as he promised you. 

“Fucking perfect, like you were made for me, only want you sweetheart…” He’s rambling, barely aware of what he's saying, still lost in the bliss of his orgasm. The words only register when an unreadable expression flies over your face in reaction. Shit. He goes through things to say, ways to somehow explain, though he couldn’t even explain the words to himself. 

His mind quiets when you smile shyly and burrow your face in his neck. He moves the both of you until you’re a tangle of intertwined limbs, resting on his cushions, watching as the light slowly fades outside. You’re warm in his arms, your breath coming softly, fanning against his skin. It feels too right to be wrong, he decides silently. 

The peaceful silence between you breaks with a chime from his phone, a message from  your father. 

“Looks like I’m invited to have dinner at yours,” he says, turning the screen towards you. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, grabbing for your own phone to check the time. “I should get going.” 

He helps you get dressed, until your still soaked panties end up in his hands again. His eyes flit up and down your body, lingering on the hem of your skirt, on the bare thighs beneath them. You take a step closer, your hand stretched out for them, but he pulls them away, sliding them into his pocket. 

A smirk grazes your features as you take another step closer. “Again? Really?” 

He shrugs, takes your hand to pull you into him. Your responding giggle is a sound that he’ll never get tired of. He sneaks a hand under your dress, palms your bare ass and presses your body against his. 

“Be a good girl and stay like this, for dinner,” he murmurs against your lips, before he kisses you once more. 

A grin slowly grows on your face as you realize what he’s saying. 

“Deal,” you agree, your eyes glinting. 

You’re sitting down next to him, sliding into the chair beside him with the most innocent, sweetest smile to both your father and him. You’re still wearing the dress that you left his place in, the one that, if you’ve been good, you’re bare underneath. 

He reaches for you almost instantly, hidden under the tabletop, the pull towards your skin too strong to resist. You tense up for a moment, throwing him a quick glance, before you relax into his touch. He draws circles, featherlight on your skin, and you part your thighs a little more, allowing him to slide further between them. 

Focussing on the conversation with your father isn’t easy, not when you’re right here beside him, so pliant under his touch. 

“So, how was it with Cheryl?” your father asks, far too invested in the whole thing for Dave’s liking. You’re looking down at your plate, your shoulders slumped forward. 

He shrugs, his hand traveling upwards, beneath the hem of your skirt, pulling your thighs apart a little more. “She’s nice, but– Not the right fit for me, I think.” 

The memory of meeting the woman flashes through his mind. “You must be Dave,” accompanied by a shake of his hand. All wrong, so different from the way it sounds when David falls from your lips. He had wanted to leave right then and there. His grip on you tightens at the memory. 

“Well that’s a shame,” Jim sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I really thought you two were a good match.” 

Dave grunts noncommittally, taking another bite of his food. 

“This one,” your father continues, his eyes falling to you, “has yet to find a good match as well. Not the best choices so far.” He chuckles, either blind or indifferent to the way you seem to shrink in your chair. You mumble something about focussing on school and your career right now, your voice so small that it breaks Dave’s heart. 

“Boys your age are idiots anyway,” he says, grinning at how your eyes widen, his emphasis on your age in no way lost on you. “Wouldn’t want to have them distracting you, right?” 

You nod silently, but fire burns in your eyes when his hand reaches so high that his fingers swirl through the slick that’s covering your upper thighs. Dave grits his teeth, fighting the urge to kiss you right here and now, consequences be damned.

It’s wrong, it’s so so wrong, but it’s like he’s lost in a haze, high on the feeling of your skin under his fingertips. On the way your thighs fall open so willingly for him, always such a good and obedient girl. On the way you both know that you’re bare underneath your skirt, dripping with the filthy proof of what you did together. On the way he’s staked his claim all over your inner thighs, to the point that he’s certain the indents of his teeth are still pressed into your flesh. All while your father has no idea what’s happening right in front of him. 

The secret rebellion of it thrills you, he understands that now. He wonders if that’s what he is to you, an opportunity to do something so deliciously forbidden that you couldn’t resist. He’ll gladly be that for you. The idea to be the person who brought this out in you thrills him too. 

He somehow makes it through the evening. Not a single conversation topic has found its way into his memories. All he can think about, all that he knows he will remember is the feeling of you under his tight grip. All his. 

You had excused yourself when your father brought out the whiskey, squeezed his hand under the table before you stood up, carefully smoothing out your skirt. Call me, you had mouthed, turning back to look at him before exiting the room. 

He knows that he will.

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider putting a smile on my face by reblogging, commenting or sending in an ask <3 thank you for reading!

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #fic: wildest dreams #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedrostories

[scoonsalicious]

4.1 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 397

Previously On...: You came to the realization that Bucky was the victim in the whole Winter Soldier debacle. And he sent you orchids <3 and that’s why the banner is orchids v. lilies. Get it?!?

A/N: Sorry, friends; I didn't realize how short this section was! Had this set to post at 4:45pm, but it didn’t; not sure why. So, you’ll get two parts today!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Sam hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of lying to Lily if she asked him if he’d been with Bucky tonight, but he’d agreed to do it, all the same. 

“You don’t think it’s messed up that you have to lie to your best friend in order to go out with a girl you like?” Sam had asked him as Bucky got ready for his date with Major. “Not even a little abnormal?”

“You know Lil,” Bucky said with a sigh as he adjusted his hair in the mirror. “She’s… protective of me. I don’t want to bring her in on this until I know it’s something real, instead of, you know, just one night of really incredible sex.”

Sam made a disgusted face and waved his hands in front of him as if to ward off Bucky’s words. “Stop, man. I don’t need to hear about how you get your willy wet. You tryna give me nightmares?”

Bucky caught Sam’s eye in the mirror and grinned. Usually, it was Sam making him feel uncomfortable; Bucky quite enjoyed having the tables turned, for a change. “But, for real– if this thing with Major turns into something– and I’m really hoping it does– I’ll tell Lily. I just… kinda want to keep it for myself for now.”

Sam barked out a laugh. “Man, you’re playing with fire, you know that?”

Bucky frowned and turned to face his friend. “What do you mean?”

Sam put his hands up in mock surrender. “If you think McIntyre’s going to just be hunky-dory with becoming second-place girl in your life all of a sudden, you’re either a willful idiot or delusional.”

“It’s not crazy to expect my best friend to be happy for me if I found someone,” Bucky said.

“Willful idiot, it seems,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes. “So, what should I tell bestie-girl if she asks what you and I did tonight?”

Bucky considered a moment. “I don’t know– tell her we went to a bar, had some beers, and watched sports or something.”

“Please,” Sam said. “Girl knows you don’t watch sports.”

This was true, Bucky had to concede. “Okay, fine. Tell her we went to the shooting range, shot some rounds, then went into the city for some beers. Good enough?”

“Yeah, Pinnochio,” Sam said with a sigh. “That’ll work. Now, go get your girl.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[tangerinesgf]

Okay but imagine Tom Ryder falling for a fan who has ZERO and I mean zero clue on him being famous. Like he met the fan on accident and then was expecting the fan to go crazy when seeing him but the fan wasn’t even interested

And he’s like so into it becuase this hasn’t happened to him before!

Also female reader as the fan!!!

Tags/warnings: nothing I think.. Tom being an ass before being nice.

A/N: this was really fun to write. I'll be honest i had to keep myself from making him too much of an asshole, but i think this is pretty in character. Anywaysss tysm for your request and i hope you like itt<3

Tom Ryder has never met someone who doesn't know him. He's the biggest star of the world, everyone and their mother's knew about him. Or at least that's what he thought.

He was at his favorite coffee shop, undercover with a hat and black sunglasses. Usually he'd love the attention and praise from his fans, but today he wasn't really in the mood.

As the barista hands him his coffee order (a grande Caramel macchiato, 1/3 whole milk, 1/3 almond milk, 1/3 soy milk, 1 shot of extra espresso decaf, whipped cream and caramel drizzle on top), Ryder turns away to walk out of the shop.

Without noticing he drops his bank card which he used to pay with. You notice this while standing behind him in line and pick the card up.

"Oh, sir!" You call out as you rush after him.

Tom sighs and rolls his eyes before turning around to face the girl. "Here we go.." He mutters to himself.

"You dropped your-"

He instantly cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. "Yeah, yeah it's me I'm amazing and the hottest man you've ever seen blah blah I know.."

You stare at him for a bit while still holding onto his card. "What?"

"What do you mean what?" He looks annoyed, you're wasting his time every second that he stands there facing you.

"I found your card.. what are you talking about?" You hold the card up to show him, your face still scrunched up in confusion.

"I'm Tom Ryder. Did you honestly not recognize me?" He raises his eyebrow at you. Is this girl stupid? He thinks to himself.

"Was I supposed to?"

"Yes. Everyone does I'm Tom Ryder." He says almost baffled that you don't recognize him.

"You keep saying your name but it doesn't ring a bell." You shrug your shoulder

"Tom Ryder." He repeats once again as if saying it for the third time would help. "Action Pact franchise? Hot Earth? Bad Cop, Good Dog? Metalstorm? How about biggest moviestar of the world?" He explains to you like you're a child.

"Oh I did hear about Metalstorm. Isn't that with that actress Iggy? Was that her name? She's cool."

"What no- I mean yes she is in it, but it's my movie. I'm the lead actor." Tom says in an agitated tone. How could you not know him, everyone knows him. Yet for some reason you kept staring at him with those confused eyes. Those beautiful confused eyes..

"Right well- good for you." It's a genuine smile, it's adorable. Why are you smiling at him like that? You should be wanting to jump on him out of excitement. Tom has never felt so confused in his life.

"Don't you watch movies at all?" He questions you.

"Ofcours I do. Indie movies." You say with a soft smile on your face.

Indie movies. Right. Tom Ryder was known for big budget blockbuster films, not smallscale indie stuff. Although now that he thinks about it everything could be a blockbuster with his name attatched to it.

"Right- so my face means nothing to you?"

"I mean.. I guess it looks slightly familiar but no.. not really. Sorry." You smile apologetically.

A strange sensation washes over Tom as he realizes this girl does not care about him at all. It's oddly humbeling even for him. "No it's fine I guess, I just never met someone who isn't crazy about me."

"Well I could still do that." You chuckle and finally hand the bank card back to him. "I'll just pretend to be obsessed with you and then you can roll your eyes at me or something."

"You'd really make a fool out of yourself for me?" He raises his eyebrow at you. Sure he's used to everyone doing everything for him whenever he asks, but this felt nice, less forced than usual.

"Yeah, look." You smile and then turn your back to him. A second later you turn to face him again, your face laced with excitement.

"Oh my god, you're Tom Ryder! I've seen like all your movies and you're so cool and hot and so amazing. Can we take a picture oh and an autograph, will you marry me?!" You say acting like an obsessed fangirl that's in love with him.

"Alright alright.. I get it." He laughs, readjusting the sunglasses on his face. He was starting to like her more and more.

"Really? I can go on if you'd like. There's this whole part where I improvise your part in a movie." Yoi brush your hair back from where it had fallen in front of your face and Tom's eyes can't help but linger at every move you make.

"No it's alright." He chuckles. "But I will say you're missing out. I've won many awards ya know. I'm not just a pretty face." He says with a grin on his face, trying to impress her.

"Never said you were. Maybe I should go see your new film at the cinema then." You tease playfully.

He chuckles softly at that. The idea of you going to see his movie made him excited. He wanted to know what you'd think about the film eventhough he had just met you 5 minutes ago. Then an idea suddenly pops into his head.

"I have a better idea. How would you like to go to the premiere, hm?" He grins

A/N: Tysm for reading I hope you enjoyed it!! Comments and reblogs are so much appreciated you don't even understand. Love you guyss<3

Taglist: @earth-elemental18 @cockete @allaroundjejje (lemme know if you wanna be removed/added)

#aaron taylor johnson #aaron johnson #aaron johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #the fall guy #tom ryder #tom ryder x reader

[cocteaucherry]

her way

summary- you were once on top of the world, unfortunately that was taken away from you, but all of a sudden two men, the best at their sports ask for help.

tags- 18+, mentions of bruises, anxiety, broken bones, anxiety attack, ooc probably for some characters, maybe some smut (or threesome) in further chapters. figure skating (can you tell I used challengers for inspo?) gojo x reader, geto x reader, female reader

a/n- (making my monthly comeback, also thank you for 200 followers every like and follow means the universe to me! debating on a chp 1

you once were on top of the world

Doing the thing you loved every day every second, the costumes, the flair, the elegance.

Your long time senior coach, Yuki, made sure to always support you, even.. if she usually made it to rehearsal thirty minutes late.

“Yeah yeah that was great! But make sure you’re more solid off your double jump!” Yuki smirked leaning against the short wall of the skating rink.

“Weren’t you on your phone half the time?” You raised an eyebrow panting loudly as Yuki gave you a coy laugh.

“See? Stop paying attention to me and you’ll land your jumps.”

Oh how cynical it would be for you in the future.

You had officially made it to the Grand Prix finals, the world's eyes battering down your whole back, at least that’s how it felt to you.

You sat stretching your legs, the world around you invisible until you went on in approximately nine minutes and ten seconds. Your nerves were particularly bad today but you couldn’t focus on that right now.

You were so out of it you didn’t even notice the figure approaching you, all you saw were long legs in dark sweatpants.

You peered through your eyelashes to see the figure standing in front of you, snowy hair and sunglasses inside? Sheesh, how arrogant could this guy be?

“Y/N, right?” A grin appeared on his smug face as his hands slid into his pockets, “yeah? Is there something I can do for you?” You grunted standing up your eyes physically widening as you saw how tall he really was, getting a good look at his face and you began to recognize the man.

“Wait.. you look familiar..?”

His face drained of color as he cleared his throat, “Satoru Gojo, two time gold winner?” He pointed towards his face, “Figure skating Mozart on the ice rink?- wait you seriously don’t know who I am?!”

“I was kidding, MAYBE I’ve heard of you,” you chuckled and he let out a huff of frustration, “You’re good friends with.. what’s his name? Suguru Geto correct? I’ve heard he’s the Prince of Ice, huh?”

“That’s correct, he’s also fairly talented.” Satoru hummed in an almost annoyed tone? You pushed it off not thinking much of it.

“Must be hard huh? I mean being best friends in this line of business and somehow you always come out on top?” You questioned staring closely through Satoru’s glasses, you could almost clearly see the bright blue of his eyes peeking through the expensive lenses.

“Ahhh,” he grinned, adjusting his shades, “Suguru and I don’t lose our minds over a little friendly competition.”

“The Grand Prix is a friendly competition for you?” You scoffed crossing your arms and he nodded bashfully, “when you have no one to compete against it’s not really a competition.”

“Right, well I’m gonna get going soon.”

You desperately wanted to cut the conversation short but talking to him seemed to ease your nerves tremendously, “Thanks for talking with me though!” you smiled brightly getting set to walk towards the rink.

Satoru wanted to talk more but his words were caught in his throat, “I’ll cheer you o-on!” His voice fucking cracked and he wanted to slam his head against the wall.

Yuki stood nervously and annoyed at your apparent “lateness”

“Y/N! What the hell? You were supposed to be here a few minutes ago?” Her face was red with anxiety it seemed.

“I'm still here on time! Don’t worry Yuki,” you groaned and a smile appeared on her face, “I know I know, you should’ve been here though I was just talking to a certain someone you should be interested in,”

“Really? Who?” You said enthusiastically but before Yuki could start your name was called over the intercoms to get on the ice, you slid your windbreaker off revealing your light purple bedazzled costume. “I’ll tell you after, get out there and don’t fuck up!” Yuki pulled you into a quick hug before lightly pushing you into the direction you needed to go.

“Awhh, cmon Yuki!” You groaned walking your way carefully onto the ice, your mind repeating your step and jump sequences in your head.

Your legs jittered but you took deep breaths skating to your starting position.

Your routine started and you were doing great, landing your jumps, your spins were fluid and solid and then the second half was ending. Your routine was coming to a close and all you had to do was nail a double jump pretty simple right?

Then how come whenever you were in the starting position something felt off..

you were in the middle of the air getting ready to land before your ankle had twisted in the wrong direction causing you to eat absolute shit on the ice.

A loud CRACK! Resounded itself along with the searing hot pain your ankle felt as you tumbled on the ice, Oh God let this be a bad dream please God..

Hot tears poured down your face as you heard the quick loud flashes of cameras and the loud whispers of the crowd, your heartbeat sped faster and faster and you swore you were going to blackout, which is what you did.

You woke up from the blaring fluorescent lights and the steady beeps of the machines around you, your mother and father sat next to you with bated breath as your mother immediately jumped to hug you crying into your shoulder.

You groggily searched the room for Yuki only to find her in the hallway talking to the doctor, this wasn’t gonna end well.

You peered down at the large cast encasing your ankle and the bruises that crowded your leg, you wanted to cry but no tears came out.

Hours later you finally decided to turn on the TV, wanting to avoid seeing you eat shit on 4K you were instead met with a different kind of news.

Males singles winners,

Bronze- Yui Haibara

Silver- Satoru Gojo

Gold- Suguru Geto

Satoru had lost? You wondered how he felt right now, sure a small smile was on his face but he was adamant on winning.

Just like clockwork Yuki had come in holding two vases of flowers, “How you holding up?” She asked walking to the counter placing the vases down,

“‘As well as you think, everyone’s kind though.” You’ve gotten multiple concerned texts from figure skaters and fans and while you greatly appreciated it your face burned in embarrassment. How could you have messed up horribly?

“Of course they are, Goddess of the Ice,” Yuki hummed, checking the cards attached to the vases, “Well look at that, flowers from both Gojo and Geto.”

“Really? I feel honored.” You smiled but it quickly faded, “Tell me how bad it is Yuki.”

Yuki sighed leaning on the counter, “Well, your ankle is pretty fucked up.. might be time for you to look at possibly retiring.”

Your coach’s words circled in your head as you took a plane trip back to your hometown, your mother and father agreed to look after you in the meantime as you sought out your decision.

The past few days you had been in limbo, just living but no substance you even spaced out mid conversation with your best friend Utahime.

She offered you a place in her family’s shop where you could spend your hours conversing instead of just sitting around the house.

“Okay! Would you rather take care of ten newborn babies or fight a judo boxer?” Utahime asked, flipping through the channels of the front counter TV.

“We’ve played this for twenty minutes!” You groaned, placing your head in your hands, “the ten babies sound great though.”

Utahime had childishly given you a coloring book but you didn’t complain, you continued to scribble, enjoying the blissful silence with the occasional talk of the TV.

The bell of the front door opening broke you out of your silence, but before you could look up the voice seemed to give it away.

“Y/N! Long time no see!”

Your eyes were brought up to see the familiar sight you were “graced” with 5 weeks ago.

“Think we could talk for a minute?”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu x reader #x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto angst #gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #geto x female reader #challengers #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujustu kaisen smut

[aychama]

Last Line Challenge

Rules - In a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many as you like.)

Tagged by @strawdool

Last line 

Eheheheh spoilerssssss! It ok tho cuz I’ll probs finish and post this tomorrow 👀

tagging: @melle-d @z00lea @mushy-gushyy @llovehymn @unwri-ten @rosedarkness24 @octtinkk @beetledee0 @starostasnow @whiteiris0016 @sxcrificialamb @fanofthelamb @miss-conner3 @the-one-who-lambs @h0nkshroom

#thanks for tagging me! #should I even tag this with my usual tags? #f it #cotl #cult of the lamb #aychama #cotl lamb #sketch #wip #Royal au #cotl Royal au #I’m so excited to draw and color this page #last line challenge #challenge

[lucabyte]

you dream of devouring your friends whole

#the 'it' and 'that' sif is referring to is the act 3 loop hangout but i enjoy being vague in dialogue it feels natural. tee hee. #serious time means everyone gets noses btw. sorry about the slow metamorphasis back into my usual style from my mimicry #in stars and time #isat #isat spoilers #isat loop #isat act 5 spoilers #isat act 6 spoilers #isat siffrin #in stars and time fanart #isat fanart #sifloop #YES IM TAGGING THE SHIP. THUMBS UP. READ INTO THAT HOW YOU WILL BECAUSE IT WAS ON MY MIND WHEN DRAWING IT AT THE LEAST #aaaaaanyway. my personal reading of loop is. how do you say... flowey-esque. to invoke a fellow antagonistic timelooper. since imo #they do seem even fuuurther gone than sasasap sif was when we saw them. and BOY DOES LATEGAME ISAT SIF HAVE SOME INTRUSTIVE THOUGHTS #so uh. who's to say what happened in there. since we know start again isnt quite congruent as loop never beat the king. #i wouldn't blame them for going maybe a little mad. just a lil #it is important to me that loop is. perhaps a bit haunted. AND THAT THEY GET THROUGH IT!!! but they are haunted #lucabyteart #anyway uhhh. probably should put a cw for implied cannibalism?? #cannibalism mention

[captaincolorblob]

Everyday i think about this screenboard scene that got semi-scrapped from Donnie vs Witch Town, like it just explains so much about Donnie as a character and i’m very sad we didnt get to see it entirely

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #like it just reveals that donnie has thought his only use to the team is being usefull via his tech #and feared he might get replaced or wasnt needed anymore #and instead of talking about it he bottled it up and it turned into aggression towards magic #like god we need to use this angst potentional more #cause it explains /why/ donnie was so stoneset on using his tech instead of mystic magic and kept saying how its better #and why his tech is usually gadgets or things that help him and/or his family #he thought thats all he's good for #apologies if i keep repeating things i'm a sucker for donnie angst and this makes me go wild #listen donnie vs witch town is not a high ranked episode on the tier list for me that scene next to the fight scene was the only part #i enjoyed a lot #and i wish they kept the entire screenboard in cause it explains a lot about donnies character and gives some drama #dia rambles #edit cause this post gained way more notes then i ever had or imagined i would ever have:: #i am flattered and virtually high-fiveing every one of you folk that said they liked my tags #i was unsure if i should even put the ramble there cause i wasnt sure if people were even gonna read it #so if means the world to me seeing people in the notes having the same reaction towards the screenboard and liking my ramble in the tags #HOWEVER i would greatly apprichiate everyone who copypasted my tags to at least credit me #some have given credit and i'm gratefull for y'all and i understand that maybe theres still the glitch for mobile users and you can always #edit your rb #I'm not mad or upset at anyone i would just really prefer it if people at least prev tagged me #ALSO SIDE NOTE to all the folk that said they'd maybe draw/animate/write smth with this a) i put the link to the full screenboard in a rb #and b) please tag/dm me or send me an ask to inform me cause i would LOVE to see it

[moeblob]

What if I straight up didn't explain myself? What if I just said trust me on this? Would you?

#fe warriors three hopes #mercedes von martritz #miklan anschutz gautier #we really only need to clarify this is STRICTLY warriors miklan and i think ive already condemned myself but i accept it #i am very sorry but the person i usually would talk to about rare pairs has been a bit busy so i couldnt go to them to get it out that way #so art is the only way i have you have to understand its not my fault (its my fault) #did you guys know i reset the azure gleam map three times before googling the chapter where he dies to try and save him #no i dont think he deserves to be pardoned for what hes done but i liked that w3h gave him a small chance to be better FOR HIMSELF #no i dont think he should simply be forgiven for everything he did but i do like that he was given humanity and how #he was still not a good guy but damn you guys i think about that npc sometimes #who says that they admired him becoming something despite being a criminal bc if miklan can do it whats stopping them from being better ? #like that npc stuck with me a while ok #just ......... there are a lot of thoughts here that i dont think many of you care to read even in tags so ill stop now #i will say the canvas is saved as speed run to cancellation lesgo

[buqbite]

I like to imagine that her gentleness is genuine

#Havent used this brush in forever #it's usually too soft for my generally very... jagged art #ill write down some thoughts later lemme write the fandom tags first lol #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr robin #hsr spoilers #implied... its hella subtle tho #my art #(pulls out the plastic chair) ok listen up. #first of all i leaned a bit into the old timey tv style bc i felt like itd fit her vibe ykno #second of all the little pinkish thing behind her is meant to resemble a) a blood splatter and b) xipes fucked up halo #penacony is so fucked up and twisted and all while robin has been genuinely kind so far #Like even firefly was kind of weird and suspicious but she appears so earnest #and Im really curious how the story is gonna go for her. Im expecting her to still be alive in some way #Esp so we can find out why she left penacony #and her connection to the family #my hope is for her to be out of place in the place that should perfectly fit her vibe #alternatively itd be rlly funny if she was like. evil. not evil evil but more like Hey Remember How The Harmony Is A Hivemind

[phoenixyfriend]

I try not to make a lot of original posts on topics I don't actually have any expertise on, but I haven't seen a whole lot of posts going around that actually... explain what happened and why? Like, the actual order of events, the history, and so on. I want to reblog reference posts and explanations by people who actually know what they're talking about, but I haven't seen anything that hits the buttons I need to actually get a political situation... but I have seen some stuff on other platforms.

So here are some videos I've personally found useful in understanding Israel-Palestine, because that's the format I've found most useful in processing information of this nature:

Why Israel was Originally Attacked from RealLifeLore (explains the decades of political dynamics, internal demographic tensions, and power shifts leading up to the current conflict; notably the best I've seen at actually explaining what 'Israeli Occupation' actually means)

Israel-Hamas War: Last Week Tonight with John Oliver (HBO) (commentary on the actual current situation in terms of who's getting attacked, why, and what the international ramifications so far are)

What's Happening in Israel and Why with Nathan Thrall from Adam Conover, series Factually (a discussion with an on-the-ground journalist about what life was like on the ground for Palestinian people in the areas under Israeli control during the last few years, just up to the attacks themselves)

I'm not going to claim these are comprehensive or completely unbiased (there are a few moments where I'm not entirely sure of the bias levels myself), but for people like myself who came into all this unsure of what the actual situation even is, I think these are a solid set to build up an basic understanding from which to put together opinions on future information.

I can't tell anyone what to think about how or why any of this is happening. I can only really tell you that what's going on right now is a crime on the level of attempted genocide, and that the years leading up to that have been an absolute mess on almost all fronts.

Again, I have no expertise on this subject. I just know what kind of video essay, political commentary, and interview style makes things understandable to me, personally, and might work for others. Please be courteous and kind in the comments and tags, as I am only sharing this because I haven't seen such a resource making the rounds yet, not actually trying to sway anyone in a particular direction beyond "the mass death needs to stop."

If you know of similar, relatively unbiased* resources, feel free to share.

* By 'relatively unbaised,' I don't mean taking or not taking a side; I just mean that it doesn't try to hide some information or other in favor of pushing a narrative, doesn't try to generalize a population, or doesn't seem to be trying to use emotional gut reactions to get readers or viewers to jump past reason or compassion.

#israel #palestine #israel palestine conflict #palestine israel conflict #not fandom #politics #current events #resources #information #video essays #interviews #political commentary #I'm not even sure how to tag this #I'm not even sure I should be making this post because it's not really my place. But. IDK it feels like 'hour long video essay' etc #is a much better resource to explain things than the usual 2 minute videos I see circulating #and the 2minute videos have a purpose! But. they're not really explaining everything #I didn't know that Israeli Occupation applied to regions outside the original Sykes Picot agreement until I read an article a few weeks ago #and I didn't UNDERSTAND it until the RealLifeLore video

[ded-lime]

#wolfgang amadeus mozart #fate grand order #fgo #antonio salieri #my art #i wonder if i even should use ship tags cuz like. they are. in my mind. but drawings without my saying so dont have anything suggesting it #not usually at least lmao i guess there was that time i drew amade smooching salieri like yeah that one is clear #anyway. #amasali