#But I’m a tiny little man in your blood stream | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

multi-fandom-imagine · 9 months

Text

«Fatherhood || Astarion ||

A/n: I’m doing it!

Tag list:

@shadow-pancake9 , @mirablake , @baizzhu

Prompts used:

“You have never been more beautiful to me than when you are heavy with my child.”

❝You’re glowing.❞

❝I think I’ve fallen more in love with you being pregnant.❞

“I will not leave your side, I promise.”

“I never thought babies were so…small.”

˃ ❝Look at how tiny her hands are!❞

“The word father suddenly has a nice ring to it.”

Honestly he should have expected it would happen and how it took so long for him to realize, well he couldn’t help but feel like an idiot. Did he is best trying to remember, trying to pinpoint when it happened.

He first thought you were sick from the amount of times you’d run off and thrown up, not to mention how much sweeter you blood was.

Which of course he stopped the moment you told him that you were expecting his child, he didn’t want to harm you or the little one.

Gale had his questions, but of course the man had his questions. He’s been acting like an older brother to you ever since you tugged his ass out of that damn portal.Astarion wished he would just go and fuck off somewhere, but of course not he just had to keep watch over you.

“Blundering oaf.”

“Did you say something Astarion?” You we’re doing your best to rest, you never thought a pregnancy could be this hard, this tedious.

Tensing, Astarion whipped his head around forcing a smile on his face. “I said, You have never been more beautiful to me than when you are heavy with my child.”

It wasn’t lie of course, you were rather radiant in his eyes but it’s not like he was about to admit his distaste in the man right now.

“You’re glowing.”Astarion cooed, stepping close to you as his fingers caressed your cheek.

Giving him a tired smile, you lent into his touch sighing softly. “You’re so sweet to me.”

“Of course I am darling, you mean the world to me….now get some rest. You are sleeping for two now.”

It did not take long for you to fall asleep, the rise and fall of your chest. Kneeling down in front of your sleeping form he gently grasped your hand in his own, his lips brushing the skin. “I think I’ve fallen more in love with you being pregnant.”

•

Astarion did his best not to flinch at your screams, the blood, your blood hitting his nose made him sick to his stomach, he couldn’t help but blame himself and when he heard another scream tare from your lips as he felt you clutch his hand tightly, a small sob escaped your lips.

“I will not leave your side, I promise.” He pressed a small kiss to the side of your head as he did his best to ignore instructions from the woman telling you too push.

You weren’t quite sure how long you’ve been on labour but it took one last push to hear the tiny cry of your child. Shadowheart smiling at your both as she cleaned off the baby, placing the newborn in your arms as you lent into Astarion’s chest.

Astarion titled his head to the side, he didn’t even that he had tears streaming down his face. His finger reaching out to caress the newborns cheek. She was so small, he already loved her.

“I never thought babies were so…small.” He whispered, his eyes glued to the little bundle in your arms as a small laughed escaped your lips.

Astarion let out a laugh as her tiny little hand wrapped around his finger. “Look at how tiny her hands are!”

Clearing out his throat, Astarion glanced away when he felt your gaze on him. “What?”

“Nothing, I just think it’s cute, you’re going to be such a good father.” You let out a yawn cradling the newborn to your chest, her little hand still grasping Astarion’s finger.

His gaze softened for a moment as he gently took the baby from your arms so you could sleep.

“The word father suddenly has a nice ring to it.”

#drabbles #drabble #astarion #astarion romance #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x female reader #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #Astarion x y/n #Baldur's Gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate iii #Baldurs gate #baldurs gate tav #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate astarion

2K notes · View notes

buckyscombatboots · 2 years

Text

Monstertober Day 2:

My Legacy

Pairing: Orc!Bucky x Captured!Reader

Warnings: Non con→Dub con, Dead dove: Do not eat, insults/degrading language, forced breeding, forced impregnation, drastic size difference, belly bulge, blood mention, virgin!reader, hair pulling, cowgirl→mating press, dacryphilia, dark!bucky, threat of violence, aphrodisiac

Nicknames: Tiny, little one, cum slut

Word count: 2.4 k

Monstertober master list

Master list

Tag list🎀

This has been long awaited, I know everyone loves Orc!Bucky, me too honestly. Enjoy.

A colossal, herculean man loomed over you, he was built from slabs of muscles that shifted under his thick layers of green skin. His bulging forearms, decorated with tribal tattoos, half concealed by a pair of tanned leather bracers, lined with fur; the designs carved into the leather matched his ornate iron pauldrons, slightly covered by the reddish-brown pelt of a direwolf, and the only thing covering his lower half was a loin cloth attached to a metal belt adorned with his tribe’s insignia. His eyes narrowed in a scowl, but despite this you could see his golden eyes, with flecks of amber and a vertical slit for a pupil—reminiscent of a cat's eyes. They were trained on you, hunched between the cart and barrels “How unfortunate Tiny. Should have hid better than that.” His meaniscing tone sends a ripple of goosebumps across your skin, a scream bubbles up to your throat and dies there as he reaches out for you. You scramble away from his enormous juniper hand, the lighter skin of his palm filling your vision before he opts for grabbing you by the waist and pulling you out “Gods above I can smell chu ‘ittle one. You’re terrified out your tiny little brain, but you're still so wet for me. If you play nice, I won’t have to hurt chu.” You consider chomping down on the web of skin connecting his thumb and forefinger, but Orcs are known for their tough skin, you decide not to. You stare up at the monster before you through your long lashes, tears streaming down your cheeks “Good, Tiny human. My true name is too complicated for your kind to understand or pronounce, so you can call me Bucky. I am War chief of this clan of Orcs, it will do you well to listen or I’ll pass you to the others. They ain’t too kind to little tiny girls like chu.” He begins to walk with you, pushing you to his beefy chest like a mother holding a baby close, your hands grab for purchase at the direwolf pelt strung across his shoulders; the feeling of the fur in your hands and the familiar scent brings you solace as he carries you over to a large group of orcs, one with blonde hair turns towards Bucky smiling with his tusks on full display, you cower at the sight—you know exactly what those tusks can do, you’ve watched them tear people like parchment “Steve, I’m going to head back to camp with a small group. You stay here. Kill any survivors, pillage whatever’s left, return by nightfall.” The Orc named Steve nods and replies in a strange serious of grunts, to which Bucky also replies in the same manner. They he’s walking again, he stops infront of an orcish warhorse—specially breed to be taller and stronger than normal horses to with stand the sheer size of the orcs— then he climbs on with you held in one arm

“Where are we going?” You whisper near his ear

“To your new home ‘ittle one.”

The ride back to the camp isn’t a long one, you slept for most of it as your adrenaline finally died down or you’d fallen into a state of shock. At this point you had no idea. When you awoke you’d arrived at what he called ‘your new home’ There were countless Orcs, they barely used any of their troops to conquer your village. The feeling of hopelessness rose in you once again.

“‘ere we are, Pet. Home sweet home.” He got off the horse and handed the reins off to another orc to be taken care of. He spoke to the orc bostriously with enthusiasm, smiling so wide you thought one of his tusks would like your eye out. Then he strode off decisively through the thicket of tents. He was taking you home, to his home. Not yours. He burnt yours down, he murdered your family. You hated the fact that seeing him smile and talking so happily, despite you being unable to understand what he was saying, made you happy. His attitude was contagious.

You approached a tent that was much larger than the others, it was also dyed a faded black compared to the other plain tents. It had two lit torches on each side of the pegs keeping it up and on the tent door was the same insignia that was on his belt, but this was painted in red—the colour of blood which he was so accustomed to spilling. You had to hate him, you needed to hate him.

He pushed aside the cloth entrance revealing a very spacious tent decorated in a sporadic manner with a large table that had a map splayed on its surface, your eyes shot down to all the red markers on it. One was on your village. They had planned this and nobody knew, fresh tears welled up in your eyes and you bit your wobbling lip, but a whimper still slipped. “This is your new home princess,” he wiped the tears from your eyes with one of his thick green fingers “so don’t cry anymore. It’s all gonna be okay. If you listen, everything will be fine. Now,” he placed you on the ground and walked over to a pile of things in the corner. He turned to face you before pulling out a shotel from behind him, but this shotel was the largest one you’d ever seen; the blade was unbelievably sharp, it was obvious that he’d spent hours sharpening, cleaning and customising it. Your legs collapsed beneath you as he pointed the curved blade at you, the point resting below your chin. Tears leaked from your eyes like a flowing river, you let out a whine as he hoovered it so close to your skin that you could feel the coolness of the blade “Move and I’ll cleave your skull in half. Understood?” Your vision shook as you meet his steely glare

“Y-yes.” You blubbered, he removed the blade and pulled out a chair from the long oaken table. The chair was much larger than a normal chair, obviously hand made for orcs by orcs—no scratch that, handmade for him. The chair was even bigger than all the others, it was made for Bucky, it was made for the war chief who towered above even other orcs. He plopped down in it, the twine holding it together creaking under his substantial weight, and opened his legs slightly clapping his massive bejeweled green hands down on his muscular bulging thighs.

“Come ‘ere little one. Sit on my lap.” He commanded, spinning the shotel on its blade on the hard packed dirt next to him. When you sat frozen, on the floor, he raised the blade towards you “I know you ain’t deaf. I don’t like repeatin’ myself.” You pressed your hands either side of your thighs and pushed yourself to your feet, your legs shook as you stumbled over. He extended out a massive green hand, you took it noting how your hand could only wrap around two of his fingers. Your line of sight travelled down to his dick. It was huge. Straining against the thin fabric of his loincloth. Straining so much that you could see all its features; dark green with lighter sections of skin, ribbed, with a thick gold ring pierced through the thin skin just under the head. There was no way he’d fit.

He helped you climb onto him, practically pulling you up by your arm which was dwarfed in his grasp. You straddled his lap, sat right in front of his bulging cock. Once you were in place he undid the opulent belt keeping the loin cloth in place and pulled. With one swift movement the belt and the loin cloth were both removed and thrown to the ground. His member was now on full display; girthy, long and definitely not able to fit inside you. You paled at the sight of it throbbing and leaking “It won’t fit!” You cried, attempting to run. He grabbed your arm just before you fel to the ground and pulled you back in place. You struggled against him, floundering like a fish drowning on land “Please! Anything else! You’re gonna kill me!” His hand clasped around your face as he reached back with his free arm and came back with a hefty glass bottle filled with a shimmering clear liquid.

“Breath, Pet. I ain’t expecting it to fit in you without a little help, little one.” He uncorked it with one hand and finally removed his hand from your mouth, you relished in the woodsy scent. He poured a generous amount on his hand “Take yer clothes off. Or I’ll rip ‘em off.” He ordered sternly, you met his gaze. His cat eye pupils had blown wide, filled with lust and need. You obliged, stripping off your dirty, torn clothes that smelt heavily of smoke. You swallowed your vomit as you recollected the state of your village.

His huge green hand began slathering the liquid on your pussy, it was warm. The heat coming off of the orc had heated it in such a short period of time, your eyes met his cock again. The heat of it was slightly darker green with a bluish cast, his balls were heavy and full. Your mouth was almost watering. You were pulled from you from your blatant ogling from the sting of a finger being inserted inside you. You yelped, grabbing at his thick wrist with your small hands “It hurts!” You yowled, beating at his calloused palm with your fist, he began moving his finger and the pain slowly melted into pleasure. You hummed at the heat filling your belly “Mhmn.”

“You’re a virgin aren’t you little one, there’s blood.” He cooed, slipping another finger. Which your quivering hole gladly took. You nodded slowly, whimpering as he stretched you, scissoring his fingers “Were gonna fix that. The Oil is enchanted, it should help you be able to take me, it’s also an aphrodisiac.” His words swam in your mind becoming almost meaningless as you pushed back on his fingers until you met his rings at the base of his thick, lengthy fingers.

Suddenly he pulled his fingers out, you whimpered at the loss humping his thigh for friction. You needed more. You wanted Bucky in you “Buck. Want you in me.” You mewl, grinding your sensitive bud down on the thick skin of his thigh

“Gladly.” He lifts you as if you weigh nothing and holds you above his dick, smiling coyly at your lopped sided grin and hazy eyes before slamming you down on his fat cock. The pain momentarily breaks your gaze but then the overwhelming feeling of his humongous prick filling your insides. Your hands travel to the bulge in your stomach, running your hands over it. Marvelling at it as he thrusts in and out. The meaty slaps of Bucky bouncing you roughly up and down on his lap filled the tent, more likely than not the sound was spilling outside. You didn’t care, right now you didn’t have the liberty to think much at all with his fat cock muddling up your insides. Your tongue fell dumbly out your mouth as you dribbled mumbling and moaning with every harsh thrust “That’s it, Pet, go dumb on my massive Orc cock. Never gonna want a human after this, they can’t fill you up like an orc. How pathetic. You deserve an Orcs cock to bring you this. Much. Pleasure.” He punctuated his words with his thrusts, bashing your cervix each time. You threw your head back in a silent wail, digging your nails into his large pecs as you relished in the orgasm that wracked your body. Constricted his cock, drawing a deep, primal grunt from his core “Yes! Come! Come as many times as you want pet, soak my cock in your juices my little cockslut. Gonna get you pregnant, gonna paint you fucking tight little slut hole with my seed. Gonna watch you swell with my children. Take it.” He groaned slamming into you with a new found vigour, picking you up as he stood.

You barely even registered him laying you on the bed until he pushed back your knees, resting them near your ears. You thought it impossible but he dick managed to nestle itself even further inside of you. An electric shock ran through your body as you came again, the pleasure being tears to your eyes as his thrust became more erratic, more powerful. His face loomed above yours staring intensely into your eyes “Gonna make you a mother, Tiny. You want to be the mother of my children? You want to grow with my child? You want to birth My Legacy?” He asked, “Answer me.” He demanded pounded into your cunt, his balls smacking against your ass, twitching, as he pushed down on your bent knees.

“Yes! Make me a mommy!” You cried, squeezing around him as he came inside you, he continued to thrust as he shot ropes and ropes of cum into you. Your stomach swelling with the sheer amount of spend shooting from his spasming tip.

“Ah feels so fucking good. Look at you, your body can barely contain my cum.” He chuckled, huffing, sweat glistening on his forehead as he littered your reddened face, ruined with tears and spit with passionate open mouth kisses.

“Felt good, wanna nap.” You yawned, your body tremouring from the overstimulation, your clit puffy and sensitive as his pelvis pressed into you enrolling you completely, blocking out almost all the light in the tent.

A hearty chuckle emerges from him, the sound fills your ears making more slick drip from your cunt onto his cock still buried in your overflowing pussy “Oh, we ain’t done yet, Pet. Gotta make sure you’re nice and pregnant, gonna fuck ya till I make ya look pregnant; so everyone knows who you belong to, that I have claimed you and that they can never touch you. ‘Cause you’re gonna have my babies, I’ll keep you filled and wanton on my cock ‘cause we Orcs mate for life after all, Tiny, and I’ve chosen you to be the bearer of My legacy.”

Tag list: @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @redbloodedgurl @teambarnes72 @shrekwreck @sweetwrathoflilith @cjand10 @bunnyscraft @flamefoxxrecs @addie5587483

1K notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 2 years

Text

His favorite - Kinktober 11

Summary: He shows everyone you are his favorite...

Rating: Explicit

Kink: Public sex

Square 25 filled for @afgomegaversebingo: Alpha!Negan

Square 15 filled for @j3bingo former jdmorganomegaverse: True Mates

Pairing: Alpha!Negan x Chubby(Omega)!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, betrayal, blood, gore, characters death, murder, true mates, a/b/o, scenting, possessive Negan, fat shaming, protective Negan, public sex, smut, unprotected sex

Words: 1,8 k

Kinktober 2022

AFG Omegaverse Bingo masterlist

JDM Mixed Bingo masterlist

JDM Omegaverse Bingo masterlist

A pack protecting you. A pack having your back. That’s what you thought the people you trusted with your life and resources are to you.

Now you know better. While you kneel on the cold ground you realize, this is a dog-eating-dog world now.

“Would you just look at this,” you flinch as the leader of a pack calling themselves the saviors swings his bat in front of your face. “Your fine friends just sold you to me, sweet little omega. I like me a chubby little thing like you.”

“Boss, do you want to give them a good show?”

“Wait for it, Simon,” he looks down at you, grinning like the devil. You can’t see it, but his eyes darkened as a tiny sob leaves your lips. “I want to have a closer look at the owner of this fine house and the resources they offered to me.”

“They want to join us,” Simon says. “Do you think they are worthy of joining us?”

You don’t lift your gaze from the ground as the men talk about your house, and the few resources you gathered during your endless trips to the smaller towns close to your home.

“What do you think, Simon?”

The men chuckle, and joke as you await death. You hold your breath and close your eyes.

This is the end, and you don’t want to see it coming. Tears stream down your face he swings his bat again, and you wait for the pain to come.

“I said, would you just look at this,” oddly the bat doesn’t hit you. “Such a pretty little thing, but she doesn’t listen. Look at me, omega.”

Your head immediately snaps upward, and you look up at the alpha with wide, and fearful eyes.

He looks down at you, brows furrowing as he enjoys the fear in your eyes.

“Negan, we should get going. It’s getting dark, boss.”

“Simon, fuck’s sake. I’m enjoying myself here,” Negan grumbles as he steps closer to you to grab your chin with his gloved fingers. “Omega, mine…do you want to die?”

“No?” you choke out.

“You’re not sure?” he laughs with his full body. “A cute and sweet one, I see. Not like the angry and bitchy omegas I met during my travels through this rotten world.”

You don’t know how to respond to him. He holds your life in his hands, and they are bloody.

“Simon!”

“Boss?”

“Kill them. But leave the boss, the one coming to you, for me and Lucille,” you swallow thickly as the alpha walks past you and toward the people you considered your pack.

“We want to be Negan,” one of them whimpers as the bat cuts through the air. You scream in terror when Negan hits the man’s skull. Blood splatters all over Negan’s clothes but he doesn’t seem to care. You assume he’s used to it.

“WE WANT TO BE NEGAN!” the rest of your pack screams as Simon and the other men aim their guns toward their heads. “PLEASE!”

“You see,” Negan hits the next man. The man screams in pain and agony as Negan preferred to hit his shoulder, “I don’t like traitors or people ratting the one saving their asses out. You messed with the wrong man.”

“What now boss?”

“Take care of the rest of them, Simon. Make it painful.”

Negan turns his back on your former pack. He carries his baseball bat toward his car, ignoring you on his way. “What about the girl?”

The alpha doesn’t answer. He puts his baseball bat in the back of his truck, taking his time.

“Leave her to me,” you whimper as leaving you to him means getting your skull split by his baseball bat.

The screams and the scent of the blood of your former pack fill your senses as Negan steps back toward you. He looks down at you on your knees, studying your trembling body.

“Get up,” he takes off his bloody gloves to offer his hand to you. “Don’t let me wait, little chubby kitten.”

Your hand trembles when you place it into his warm palm. “What will you do to me?” you look up at Negan with teary eyes. “Please do it fast. Not with the bat.”

“Oh,” he chuckles as you slowly get up from the ground to stand on unsteady legs. “I got an idea or two, sweetness. Let’s start with bringing you away from here…”

You end up in his room, wearing his clothes that night. Negan looks you up from head to toe, making sure you didn’t get bitten. At least he tells you so.

The hungry look in his eyes tells a different story.

“Today, I killed for you omega,” he begins. “I will do it again if I must.” Negan steps closer to cup the back of your neck. “You’re going to stay here.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why didn’t you kill me too?”

“I killed them because they betrayed you,” he dips his head to press a surprisingly soft kiss to your temple. “I scented you the moment I got out of my car.”

“I don’t understand,” you watch him look you up and down. Negan licks his lips, ready to pounce on you.

“You’re my true mate,” Negan explains. “Don’t you feel it too? The pull. The need.”

“I should be afraid of you, but I’m not,” you whisper as he takes another step toward you. “You killed people, but you make me feel safe.”

“I’ll keep you safe. Always.”

That night you will end up tangled in each other. Negan won’t let you out of his bed for hours. When you wake in the morning, you’ll be wearing his mark…

A few months later, …

You sniffle as the women at the sanctuary make fun of you once again.

“Just look at that fat cow. I bet Negan only keeps her around to make sure any walker will kill her first and feast on her fat ass.”

“Right. How could he ever get hard for that chubby bitch?” the other woman snickers. “No way he likes to fuck that thing. Negan tries to mess with her. I bet; in a few days, he’ll use Lucille to get rid of her.

You run inside the building and dash toward the room you share with your alpha.

Fat tears roll down your cheeks as you make it inside.

You slam the door shut and press your back to the door, crying bitterly.

“Omega?” Negan is by your side in three long steps. “Y/N, what’s wrong with you? What happened?”

“They…and then…I’m fat…” you choke on your tears as your alpha wraps his arms around your trembling body.

“I need to know what happened, kitten. Tell your alpha who made you cry,” he whispers as you slowly lift your head to meet his worried gaze. “Y/N, tell me what happened.”

“I,” you nod. There is no way you can hide anything from your alpha. You take a deep breath and tell him what the women said about you and your alpha…

“Negan where are we going?” you whimper as he holds your hand in a tight grip. He mutters under his breath as he watches his men carry a mattress out of the building.

Simon and the others place the mattress in the middle of the courtyard.

“All done boss.”

“Good.”

Negan guides you toward the mattress. “I want you on hands and knees, kitten. Don’t be shy. Show them all your dripping cunt.”

Your mouth falls open as Negan rips the flimsy negligee he found on one of his trips off of your body. “Would you all just look at those tits and her fucking perfect ass? I love every curve and every stretch mark on my woman.”

“Negan,” whining you kneel on the mattress and do as he says. You lift your ass and spread your legs for everyone to see your cunt. “Please.”

Negan stands in front of you to run his hand over your hair.

“You dared to say my omega doesn’t get me hard?” you gasp as Negan unbuckles his belt. He unzips his pants and shoves them down his legs to reveal his throbbing length.

“See this?”

Negan points at his erection.

“This is all for my pretty little kitten. My chubby angel,” he growls as one of the women harassing you want to look away. “You won’t look away.”

He snaps his fingers. “Simon, make sure they watch me.”

“Uh-I’m on it boss,” Simon points his gun at the woman. “What do you want to do with them?” He nervously laughs as Negan moves behind you.

Your alpha kneels on the mattress to give your cunt a few kitten licks. He purrs against your heated flesh, making you moan in return. “Alpha.”

“I’m going to show them how much my omega turns me on,” Negan fists his cock as he looks at the women harassing you. “Do you know how good my omega makes me feel? She’s so much more woman than any of you!”

“Negan,” you press your face into the mattress. He growls at your submissive behavior. You know how much Negan loves to go full alpha and control your body.

Negan roughly grips your hips with one hand. “Perfect little omega cunt,” he presses into you, groaning as your body opens only for him like a flower ready to bloom. “She takes me so well.”

Your alpha slowly starts rocking his hips. He easily slides in and out of you, using your slick to fuck into you with long and powerful thrusts.

“Boss…uh,” Simon swallows thickly. He doesn’t want to be a creep, but at the same time, he can’t look away. “Fuck…”

“She’s mine,” Negan holds your hips in a tight grip. His large hands drag you onto his length with every snap of his hips.

You moan, whine, and curse his name while your alpha has his way with your cunt.

“Negan…alpha…baby.”

“That’s right, kitten. It’s your alpha making you feel so good,” he growls as his eyes drop to your pussy stuffed with his cock. “Later I’ll eat that pussy.”

“Alpha, gonna cum.”

The coil in your lower abdomen tightens. Heat spreads through your body and you make the sweetest noises for your alpha as your cunt starts to clench tightly around his thick length.

“Kitten, Y/N,” his hold on your hips becomes bruising when he empties himself inside of you. “Fuck, you feel so good. Every. Fucking. Time.”

“No one will dare to harass you ever again. If they don’t learn their lesson, I will ban them,” he whispers. You snuggle in his chest and sigh. “How do you feel?”

“Tired. Sore. Satisfied,” he laughs as you mumble against him. “We won’t do this every week now, right?”

“Do what?”

“Have sex in front of everyone.”

“Only for fun, Y/N. Only for fun…”

Tags in reblog.

#negan #j3bingo #afgomegaversebingo #Negan x Reader #negan x plus sized reader #negan x female reader #negan x you #negan x y/n #negan x chubby reader #chubby reader #His favorite - Kinktober 11 #kinktober day 11 #kinktober 2022

493 notes · View notes

strangegremlin · 1 month

Text

Your Body and Mine Will Sing

Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham

Universe: Hannibal

Summary: Will breaks into Hannibal's house to confront him but things get unexpectedly steamy and a little bloody as Will leans into his dark desires.

Word count: 1,148

Warnings: Smut 18+ only, oral, blood kink, power kink, slight praise kink, dom!Will/sub!Hannibal, references to murder, bodily harm

Note: I've never written a fanfic before so I hope this one is okay lol. I drew a little pic to go with it :3 I got the title from a line in the poem Love Poem with Dark Face.

---------

Will stands in the moonlight outside of Dr. Lecter's house, hunting knife in hand, ready to confront him about being the Chesapeake Ripper. The only light on is in the upstairs bathroom.

Hannibal must be in the shower. Now’s my chance to sneak in unnoticed. He picks the lock.

The house is dark, only illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the tall windows.

Will hears Hannibal exit the shower and start down the stairs so he crouches behind the kitchen counter.

Hannibal goes to the fridge to pour himself a glass of wine but before he can open the bottle, Will pounces on him from behind. Will wrestles him to the ground, putting the knife to his throat.

“Will, don’t be foolish.”

“You don’t get to talk. I’m the one with the knife.”

The psychiatrist grips Will’s waist, flipping him so that he is now on top. Hannibal grabs his hands and pulls them above his head, pressing them into the carpet and making Will drop the knife.

Will wraps his legs tightly around Hannibal, twisting him and knocking him off balance. He uses this momentum to flip them back over and straddle Hannibal, reaching his hands up to the Chesapeake Ripper’s throat.

Hannibal rests his hands on Wills hips and smiles devilishly. Will looks down, noticing how they’re tangled up and blushes. He's basically in the cowgirl position.

Will tightens his grip on Hannibal’s neck to wipe the smug grin off his face but this just causes Hannibal to bite his lip.

Will feels his stomach flutter.

That was weird. Why am I turned on right now?

Will releases his grip and moves his thumb up to Hannibal’s lips, which part, allowing Will’s thumb the enter his warm mouth.

Will lets out a breath as Hannibal massages his thumb with his tongue.

What am I doing? My psychiatrist, the Chesapeake Ripper is sucking my thumb and I’m allowing it.

Wills eyes focus intently on Hannibal’s curved pink lips around his thumb. He can feel his tongue moving in circles and for a second, Will imagines it is something else that was in Hannibal’s mouth.

Then, Hannibal bites Will's thumb, drawing a few drops of blood and causing Will to let out a breathy moan.

Will's head is swimming as he pulls his thumb out and drags it softly across Hannibal’s lips, coating them in crimson.

He leans in to taste his own blood on Hannibal’s lips, feeling himself get hard. Wills senses are flooded with the taste of iron and the smell of Hannibal’s aftershave… and the feeling of Hannibal’s fingers digging into his hips like he’s holding on for dear life.

Will pulls back, grabbing his knife. Hannibal looks him up and down, eager to see what he’ll do with it.

Will presses the knife gently to Hannibal’s neck. Hannibal doesn’t flinch, and instead leans his head back a little to help Will’s blade find its spot.

Hannibal’s eyes twinkle darkly as they meet Will’s, making him gulp.

Will steadies himself and makes a tiny nick in Hannibal’s neck, just enough to draw a few pearls of red. He leans in, kissing the nick softly, causing Hannibal to let out a whimper.

Will moves his lips all around Hannibal’s neck kissing softly, then roughly, making Hannibal squirm and tighten his grip on Will's hips.

Then, Will pulls back to admire his work.

He looks at Hannibal bathed in moonlight, painted with his bloody kisses, and his heart melts a little.

He had always noticed Hannibal was a very handsome man but he had never seen him as beautiful as he was right now, smeared in red, marked by him.

Will's blue eyes glitter as he smirks, “Who’s my pretty boy?”

Hannibal’s eyes widen as he lets out a small breath. Will feels Hannibal’s bulge harden underneath him.

“Oh, interesting.” Will coos with amusement.

He leans in next to Hannibal’s ear and whispers “You’re my pretty boy, Hannibal.”

Hannibal blushes and bucks his hips up making Will smirk again. He finally had Hannibal under his control. Will's body buzzed from the power he held over the Chesapeake Ripper.

“Would you kill for me?”

“In a heartbeat, Will.”

Will leans in and forcefully kisses Hannibal. Their fingers tangle in each other's hair as they roll around together.

Then, they pull back for a second and look at each other. Their eyes meet and they giggle for a second like they were teenagers fooling around at summer camp.

Their fingers hastily dance around each other's shirts, making quick work of the buttons, even popping a few off by accident.

Will trails wet kisses down Hannibal's neck, torso, and then stomach, until he reaches his belt. After fumbling with it for a second, he is able to free his length.

Will looks up at Hannibal’s pleading eyes as he places a kiss on his tip. A small bead of precum was already leaking from his psychiatrist. Will puts the tip in his mouth and moves his tongue in circles, teasing him.

Hannibal runs his fingers through Will’s dark curls, breathing heavily.

“Mmh Will…”

Will looks up at the man and admires the view from this new angle. Hannibal’s jaw clenches as he arches his back with pleasure.

Will takes the whole length in his mouth and bobs his head, causing Hannibal to let out the softest moans. The feeling of Hannibal's strong hands tangled in his hair sends a warm shiver down Will's exposed back.

Will's pace speeds up as Hannibal's breath quickens; he can tell he is getting closer to climax.

Hannibal looks down at Will, meeting his eyes. The image of his beloved Will with his mouth full of his cock is intoxicating. He growls and bites his lip to stifle himself.

With that, Will takes Hannibal's entire cock and throats it, causing the man to jerk with pleasure.

"Oh- fuck," Hannibal moans loudly.

Will realizes he has never really heard him cuss much before. He also realizes that he finds it incredibly hot that he is able to make Hannibal unravel like that with just his mouth.

Will deepthroats Hannibal again, drawing another whining growl out of him. Hannibal is so deep in his throat that Will's lips are practically pressed against Hannibal's skin.

Then, Will pulls back again and gently sucks the tip.

"Ah- Will... I'm- gonna-"

One more time, Will takes Hannibal's whole cock down his throat as he climaxes. Will feels Hannibal's length pulse as he spills down his throat and lets out a satisfied, breathless moan.

Their eyes meet again as Will swallows. He smiles as he notices that Hannibal's cheeks are pink and dewy with sweat. His own lips are puffy and red from the friction, and Hannibal stares at them longingly.

He pulls Will in for a kiss, tasting himself on his lips. Then, he smiles slyly.

"Now it's your turn."

25 notes · View notes

mistressheroine · 1 month

Text

WIP Whenever

Thanks for the tags @galadrieljones and @im-immortal

Sorry it took me a while to get to this, I've been in a TTPD spiral that has inspired a few new fic ideas.

This is a little preview of Fortnight, the one-shot that has basically taken over my life for the last week.

It’s the sounds that come back first, every movement creates a sound like fingernails on a chalkboard. Then the light, everything diffused in bright white before the world returned in screaming colour. Flashes of jumbled memories hit her like a freight train. She’s running through the overgrown grasses, sweat pouring down her back and making her clothes cling to her exhausted body before they throw themselves to the ground. Half empty bottle of red wine on the table between them, his strong hands covering hers as she whispers “I wish I had met you first” right before he leans in closer and she sees the flicker of something in his eyes. Who are you? Sitting on the porch watching that bashful smile illuminate his face in the moonlight and feeling that smile from her stomach all the way to the tips of her toes. Why can’t I remember your name? Mama and Shawn in the front seat of her big brother’s car, the sun streaming brightly through the windshield as she grips the cell phone tightly to her ear with tears of joy and relief rolling down her cheeks. Standing in a dimly lit, water stained hallway as she catches his eye across the space between them and sees his whole body tense while some woman in a police uniform talks about needing someone called Noah. Then blood, so much blood. Blood on the smashed windshield, smoke billowing up into the summer sky. Blood on that police woman’s face, tiny little specks of it as her vision falters and she suddenly feels herself falling. Her eyes shoot open and the falling sensation stops abruptly. She tries to speak but her throat is so dry the sound rasps out before it dies all together. The man in the white coat, the doctor, turns from where he was checking the beeping monitor beside her bed and she glances down to his name tag. Edwards. I knew that, I’m sure I did. Dr Edwards looks at her and smiles before he checks her vitals again. “Welcome back. You might feel a little groggy, it’s the medication but you should start to feel a little more human in a day or so. Can you tell me your name?” She searches through her mind, plucking it out easily and realising she never really forgot what her name was. “Beth… my name is Beth. Beth Greene.”

Tags back for both! :) And new tags for @sasusc @pipergirl17 @auroraroseane @raginglittlehurricane and anyone else who wants to share.

#bethyl #daryl dixon #beth greene #twd #the walking dead #bethyl fanfiction #wip whenever #song fic #coming soon

14 notes · View notes

melancholicheart · 11 months

Text

All This Time- Chapter 1

cw: trans male pregnancy (mentioned), angst

“Creepin’ Jesus I wish someone told me how expensive this shit is.” A sigh.

“Stop swearing!” A small voice snipes.

“Sorry, love.”

Johnny isn’t wrong though, if someone had told him how expensive kids stuff was, specifically the school uniform and supplies, he might’ve accepted that offer to move back home.

He turns his nose up at the thought, he’s an independent person and he sure as shit doesn’t need his mother breathing down his neck over his parenting techniques.

“Papa look at the baba!”

Johnny follows his daughters gaze to a tiny child in a pram, the small boy grasping at his feet and pulling his socks off.

Johnny chuckles, “You used to be that little, y’know?”

A scoff, “Nae way Pa’, I big!”

“You are now, yeah, but you used to be so tiny. I still have your newborn outfit, the one I took you home in, I’ll show you when we’re home.”

“Don’t believe ya’ Pops.” She says indignantly.

Johnny chuckles. He’ll sure show her!

He pays for the astonishingly priced clothes and shoes for his girl, holding her hand with one hand and the bag of clothes with the other, heading back to the car to go home.

“I wan’ try!” She shrieks when Johnny goes to buckle her in, him taking a step back to let his daughter attempt it herself before securing her into her car seat.

Johnny gets into the front seat, heading towards home when he flicks a gaze at his daughter. She looks troubled.

“Elizabeth, babe, are you okay?” He asks, turning the radio down so he can hear her.

She nods and toys with her fingers, “Yeah Papa- s’just. School’s soon, yeah?”

“Yes, next month, are you nervous?” He asks.

She shakes her head, “I just- I wanted Daddy to come.”

Johnnys heart breaks. No, it crumples into tiny shreds and leaks out of his chest like blood from a bullet wound, “Oh Lizzie, love, I’m sorry. If he could come, I’m positive he would be here.”

She sniffs, “Wanna meet him.”

“I know, I want you to meet him too. Someday soon, darling, okay?”

Elizabeth nods, toying with the belt around her shoulders and leaving the conversation there.

They arrive home soon after.

Johnny carries his daughter inside, slung over his hip as he drags the worlds most expensive shopping inside in his free hand.

Opening the door is a struggle but soon he is inside their small two bed apartment.

He sends Elizabeth upstairs, asking her to take her new clothes and shoes up to her room.

Johnny sits on the couch with a thud, thoughts of Simon whirring around his mind. He eyes his lacklustre apartment, thinking back to the deal he and Simon had made.

‘You always have a place here, Si’

‘And if you move?’

‘I swear to stay here for at least five years, love, so don’t forget about it.’

He massages tension from behind his eyes, groaning in his own pity. Four years have passed, no word from Simon. No word from anyone. For all he knows, Simon could be- he grimaces.

Never did he imagine his love life being so pitiful that he’d still worry for a man he hasn’t seen for four years whilst raising the daughter he has no idea about.

Another groan.

Johnny grabs the box from beneath his coffee table, containing his photo album and a bunch of loose photos, equipment for tacking the pictures in and expensive pens for writing under the photos. Beneath it are all the letters he sent to Simon, envelopes taped back together with big, red ‘Return to Sender’ print on the front.

He flicks it open and stares at the very first photo, his beautiful daughter, the day she was born.

He laboured alone (for sixteen painful hours) before she was finally born (via an emergency c-section, nonetheless) on October 26th at 9:15AM. One of the wonderful nurses he had took photos of him meeting her for the first time.

Johnny hated seeing himself in some of them, his face red and tears streaming down his cheeks, but it was all worth it just to see her.

Elizabeth Ada MacTavish was a curious baby, staring at her Father intently the second she saw him, and immediately her first came down on his bare chest, holding onto him with her screwed fists.

Johnny smiles at the photo, running his finger over it, before flicking to the next page where there’s a photo of him and Simon.

The only photo, in fact, of him and Simon, and beneath it is written: Made it to The Big City! (Manchester)

Johnny chuckles at Simon’s scribble next to the photo and almost jumps out of his skin when there’s a knock at the door.

Living in an apartment means most deliveries are left in his own mailbox downstairs so it isn’t often that the door sounds.

He jumps to his feet and rushes to the door in case it’s his Landlord or the Receptionist out front (her name is Sarah, both their girls are the same age and she lives in the block too, they are quite good friends at this point).

As he swings it open without a care in the world, his previously liquified heart nearly pours out of his mouth with the guest beyond the door.

“Hi Johnny.” Simon Riley says. Maskless, clad in black, and with a loose bandage around his wrist. He has a slope to his posture, be it shame or hurt, Johnny isn’t sure.

What he is sure of though, is the growing sound of footsteps and the thundering of his daughter racing to find her Papa.

Johnny turns to the side, cutting off Simon who was soon to speak again, in an attempt to stop his daughter.

“Elizabeth, sweetheart, wait a sec!” Johnny shouts, louder than intended when a small body careers into his side, brown curly hair bobbing at her shoulders when she crashes into his leg.

She looks at Simon and Simon looks at her. They both look like they’re figuring something out for just a moment before Elizabeth yells:

“Daddy!”

#call of duty #ghostsoap #mw2 #mw2 2022 #soapghost #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soap and ghost #trans man #trans mpreg #family

85 notes · View notes

more-cardigan-than-woman · 1 year

Text

The Chase

Summary:

The cabin waits at the end of the trail, the wind is cutting, the trees are sharp and he's getting closer.

Reader x Jason Todd

2.1k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, hair pulling, chasing, swearing, knife, slapping.

Rocks cut through your feet, the freezing blow of the wind on your face, twigs stabbing you in the arm as you run as fast as you can through the forest.

You don't know how long you've been running. Only that the sun has disappeared from your view and you can barely breathe. Stopping for a moment to catch your breath on the trunk of an old oak tree, leaning over as you try to heave in oxygen, the forest is quiet around you, only the sound of the wind in your ears. You take another breath.

You hear a stormy howl in the distance, maybe 200 meters behind you, shit. You start running again, attempting to pick up the pace, but your feet are sore, your calves burning, tears streaming down your face and your tattered clothing doing fuck all to keep you warm from the chill.

Squinting into the darkness you spot smoke in the distance, a chimney, a door to put between you and the one chasing you. “I’m going to catch you, little one.” a deep roar echoes through the woods. Another wave of adrenaline washes into your blood and heart pounding in your chest as you see a light in the distance. The scent of the smoke grows closer and closer with every second.

Another loud growl rings in your ears, closer than it was before. Fuck, fuck, you’re nearly there. Only two more- you fling the door open. The warmth of the tiny cabin burns your cold skin as you press your whole body into the door. Your breathing heavy, panting, sweat drips over every part of you. “The fuck was that?” you snap your head to the right, when you hear a noise outside, “shit, shit.” you whisper, sinking down to the ground when you see a huge shadow cross the window.

A loud screech, like nails on a chalkboard, comes from the left and you see the shiny metal glint of a long knife slicing into the window on the other side of the cabin. You scramble, trying to move to a place out of sight. You decide on just below the window, your eyes fixed on the now unbarricaded door.

“Little one,” the knife taps on the window, “Little one,” to the left of you now moving towards the door, “Let me in,” the deep voice echoes through the wood of the cabin, “Or I’ll huff,” you hear a thud behind the door, “and puff,” the door handle rattles, “and make you my whore.” BANG! The door is kicked in, the wind of the storm clattering it against the wood and you scream.

You scurry back, quickly trying to move as Jason steps towards you. His huge body blocking the doorway, his shirt lost somewhere in the chase. His pretty curls are puffy and windswept from the wind. You don’t take your eyes from him, drinking in the romance novel style man who's been chasing you through the woods. You can’t seem to look away which makes you bump into everything on your way back.

When you finally look up from his naked torso you notice his eyes have gone full feral and another knife is in his hand, the twin to the one stuck in the cabin door. “No, please no.” you plead, trying to get away from him.

“You cannot run from me, little one,” he snarls, his huge hand snatching out and grabbing you by the ankle, “I could hear your heartbeat in the middle of a thunderstorm.”

“NO!” you laugh, wiggling your leg and trying to free it from his grasp.

“You had your chance to run,” he starts dragging you back towards him, “to hide,” his knife slices at your jeans tearing them in two.

“I did run,” you reach up to where he;s holding you, trying to pry your leg free, “I got away.”

“Oh,” he stares down on you with pity, “but you’re just not fast enough,” Jason releases your leg only to grasp at your hair, “are you little one?”

"Yes" you smirk up at him as his fingers tighten in your hair, "I-"

"You'll never be fast enough to escape me, not that you want to," he drags you up by the hair, "isn't that right?"

"One day," you narrow your eyes at him, "you can't keep me forever." You try to hide your smile at how feral his eyes look right now, how wet your thighs are from the sound of the growl low in his chest, he just needed, "I don't belong to you."

"Wrong again," He snarls at you, his arm cinching your waist, most of his force held in your hair as he drags you to the back of the cabin towards tiny bed.

"Let me go," you squirm as he drops you both on the bed, "you can't do this to me."

"Do me a favor little one," he grips your cheeks harshly, "shut your mouth or things are going to get ugly."

"Like you."

His hand connects with your face and you try so fucking hard not to shiver with pleasure or to grind down on his thigh that's trapped between your legs. "I know you like the way I look." His hand slips down your middle, tearing the rest of your shirt off, "and I got evidence to prove it." He locks his eyes with yours, his hand squeezing your cheeks. His hand stills in place at the hem of your panties, his eyes searching yours for any sign of protest, "tell me," he whispers, leaning down to give you the softest kiss, his nose rubbing into yours, "now, my love."

"Wonder woman."

"Good," he tears at your panties, ripping them from your legs, "you going to take it like my bad girl?"

"You wish."

"I don't wish, little one," his fingers toy with the juice dripping from your pussy, "I fucking know," his fingers push into you, his thumb on your clit, "I know how this pussy aches for my touch," he curls his fingers inside you as he bites down and sucks on your throat, "how you think about me when I'm not around," his other hand snakes up, freeing your shirt from its buttons and palming at your breast, "how you drip when I'm near you," his fingers pinch at your nipples, "you know why little one?"

"Lies," you try to protest amongst your breathy moans, "you're wrong'" a moan interrupts your thoughts, Jason hits the spot right inside enough that makes you see stars.

"When it comes to you, little one." He slaps you again, "I ain't ever wrong." He pulls you up into a harsh toothy kiss, "I know you feel this intensely as I do."

"Jason," you start to pant, your hands reaching up as clawing into his bare chest. His teeth sink into your shoulder and the jolt of pain sends you into a spasm of bliss.

"Ride it out, you can do it," his fingers slowing in time with your shudders, "feel it all."

You start to wiggle, trying to move from his grip as the sensation starts to become over whelming. Jason has you firm in his grip though, there's no escaping, "take a breath. One, two, three." He flips you onto your stomach grabbing a pillow from the top of the bed and stuffing it under your hips, "and give me these." He takes your hands in his one pinning them behind you, "no more clawing me up."

Jason moves behind you lifting your ass wiggling his hips as he aligns his cock with you. He presses forward, as you engulf him and you leg out a scream that shakes the cabin. He pulls out, doing it again and again as you scream for him. Jason bends, his sturdy and heaviness weighs down on your back, his hand moving from your wrist to intertwine your fingers between your back and his tummy as he pushes your head down and the world starts spinning around you.

"My little one, you can never run from me," he growls in your ear, the sound vibrating his chest, "I will always find you."

"Jason," you whisper into the pillow, sticking your ass up so he can hit it deeper inside you, "fuck me."

"There's my girl," he purrs, his hand tightening on yours, his other gripping your hair, the pinch sends tingles down your spine and into your cunt, "scream my name, little one." He holds his throbbing cock deep and throbbing as you pulse around him, "let every fucking creature in this forest," he starts to grind into you, "know who you fucking belong to."

You chant his name as he grinds down into you, his stubble brushing on your cheek, his breath hot in your ear, your nose full of Jason's sweat and that musky cologne he loves.

You feel your pleasure building again, your sensitive clit brushing over the seam of the pillow and your body starts to shake.

"You can take it, can't you?" He taunts you, his cock slowly fucking into you, while his hand grips yours so tightly, "for me?"

"Yes, Jason."

"Good, fuck, yes, good girl. Take it, fuck, so fucking good to me, little one."

"Jason, hair." You mumble, trying to pull your head down but his grip is too strong. He releases your hair in an instant. His hand instead moving to cup your ass, his fingers digging into the soft cheeks, "thank you"

"I love your ass," he gives you a slap on your but, "love the fucking way if giggles for me." He slaps you again, his thrusts moving faster and faster. His breathing going wild in your ear, "love the way you take me," he growls when you start to push back into him, "how perfect I fit inside you,"

"Jason, fuck, you fill me so well. I'm so fucking full." You barely get out between your panting. You combined chants of pleasure fill the room, sweat sticking you both together as he drives the pleasure from you. The ecstasy seeping from every pore and bleeding into your passion.

Lights start dancing behind your eyes, your breathing getting heavier and heavier as the world shatters around you and comes to life all at once.

"Jason," you squeeze on his hand after a moment, his warmth on your back soothing you like a heavy blanket, "you ok there bud?".

"Dead," he mumbles into your ear, fishing your hands from underneath him and resting them to your side, he gives you a squeeze back.

"This is becoming a habit." You joke, wiggling your ass into him, "you really need to get a handle on that."

"Do I?"

"Yes, you do," he falls from your back, staring at you from his side, "Don't be dying on me and leaving me here to deal with your siblings alone."

"Wouldn't dream of it, my love." He holds your chin bringing you in for a sweet kiss, "Little one?" he asks, his thumb glides across your cheeks.

"Yes?"

"Next time we run up here," his fingers gently trace down the scratches on your arms, "you need to wear shoes and a jacket."

"But that takes the fun out of it."

"Not for me," he reaches over grabbing the coconut oil from the bedside, "I'm always so worried you're going to get stabbed in the arm by a tree or you're going to get a needle in your foot," he slowly starts to soothingly run the pill into your skin, "if your dressed more appropriately, then I don't have to worry so much."

"But can we do it again?"

"If you want. I did enjoy watching your ass bounce as you ran from me." You lean forward wrapping him in a hug and kisses, "I'll take that as a yes. "

'Yes please and can we-"

"In a minute," he moves, rubbing some of the oil into the marks he left on your shoulder, "l wanna take care of you," he kisses the scratches, "then we can have a shower and a snuggle."

"And a snack?"

"And a snack," he promises, "I'm here for whatever you need, my love."

Taglist:

@littleredwing89 @ilikw @bubbles-incorrect-yb @megumisbabymomma @nutmeg030 @gone-batty-fics

@lovelyrissa @igotanidea @parkjammys @princessbl0ss0m

#jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #jason todd #x reader #jason todd fanfic #reader x red hood #red hood x reader #red hood fanfic

136 notes · View notes

henryravenswood-ssideburns · 8 months

Text

Five Unfortunate Suitors Chapter One: Barry Claude

TW: Blood, gore, death.

It was a cool September morning. And the Lord of Ravenswood Manor was awake to greet the sun… or rather to glare at it in annoyance. He had a hunting trip planned with this suitor that asked for his daughter's hand. He did not approve of this union, the man was far too old for his daughter. So what better way to dispose of a suitor than under the guise of a pleasant hunting trip between future son-in-law and father-in-law? He was packing his rifle with some dried food, when a knock came to the front door. He opened the door seeing the younger man standing there.

“Mr. Ravenswood! Good Morning!” Barry said energetically he had his own rifle and provisions. Henry grunted a greeting back tying his sack of provisions off. “Is there anything I can help you with?” Yeah, you can shuffle off to the River Styx! Henry thought as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

“I’m fine, Mr. Claude, we should head out…” Henry gruffed out and started walking towards the door.

“Is Melanie awake?” Barry asked, glancing up the stairs “Can I say goodbye to her?” Henry had his back to him so Barry couldn’t see the look of utter disgust across his scowled face. Henry sighs,

“We really should be going, Barry.” He said annoyed that the man wanted to stay a moment longer. Henry looks over at Jasper, “We should be back in three days, Jasper, keep down the fort.” The butler nods, opening the door.

“Happy hunting Master Ravenswood, and Mr. Claude.” The two men exited the manor walking down to the stables where Henry’s horse awaited and Barry’s was spooked, ears pinned back and pawing at the ground. The brown stallion looks at his master knickering nervously.

“Oh Teddy, what’s wrong boy?” Barry asked, comforting his horse as Henry mounted Black Thunder.

“It seems as if Teddy is scared of Black Thunder here…” Henry said as he started walking Black Thunder in front of Barry and his horse. “Let’s hope he’s not as skittish when we get out into the woods.” After comforting his horse, Barry mounts and starts to follow Henry out into the woods.

“So Mr. Ravenswood, what exactly are we hunting?”

“Bear… Ever hunted one?”

“Ah, I can’t ever say that I have.” Barry said nervously as Henry seemed to be leading them deeper into the woods.

“With the two of us it shouldn’t be too hard, just follow my lead and we should be okay.” Henry rolled his eyes. If I'm lucky you'll be supper for a bear and I’ll have to break the tragic news to everyone back in town. Henry thought to himself they finally reached a clearing in the woods overlooking a stream. “Let’s set up camp and leave the horses here. They’ll leave us more open for an attack.” Henry dismounted and set up what would be a fire pit and two tents for the two men; Barry helped all the while trying to strike a conversation with Henry, but he had little time for Barry’s pleasantries.

“So, how’d you get to where you are today Mr. Ravenswood?” Henry ignored him as he set his provisions in his tent. Barry sighed, he didn’t understand why his future father-in-law was being so cold to him. Maybe he was just deep in thought? Henry grumbles, stretching his back out after bending over.

I’m getting too old for this… Henry thought, he grabbed his rifle. “Barry!” He barked watching the younger man stare off into space.

“S-sorry sir.” Barry snapped out of it, Henry rolled his eyes in minor annoyance.

“Get your rifle, we’ll start for the creek down there.” Henry pointed down the cliff they were standing on. He started walking, hearing the loud crunching of sticks of the heavy footed man behind him. Henry grimaced and rolled his eyes. How does he expect to be a man of the house when he can’t even walk lightly in the woods?! Henry throws his hand out in front of Barry. “Bear tracks, see them?” He whispers pointing to the two sets of tracks, a big set of paws and a tiny set of paws. “Looks like a mama bear and a baby bear.” Perfect, I know how protective a mama bear is of her cub. I almost relate to her. He looks at Barry. “You stay here, she might make a round trip back to where she was.” He points to the cave. “That’s probably her den. If you see her, you want to aim for her belly up close to her front leg, that’s where her heart is. I’m going to see if I can’t track her…” “Sir, I don’t think I’m comfortable shooting a mama bear.” Barry said, gripping his rifle. Henry cocked his, and Barry gulped, something about the old mining baron unsettled him.

“Better get comfortable Mr. Claude. She won’t hesitate to kill you.” Henry chuckles and straightens his clothes out. “And beware, Mr. Claude, if you harm her baby… you’re as good as in Charon’s boat.” Henry slaps him on the back. “But, I’m sure you can do it.” Henry started to walk away.

“Wait! Mr. Ravenswood! I- Damn it!” Barry whispered, he looked around, Henry had completely disappeared into the tree lines. Barry’s heart jumped up into his throat, he was an oil baron, not a hunter! He heard rustling. “Mr. Ravenswood?” he walked towards the sound and uncovered… Oh God.

A baby bear, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to back away. It started to make noises, and that’s when he heard the sound of big heavy paws… Barry’s eyes widened beholding the massive grizzly bear. He fell back firing off his rifle, filling the air with the sounds of ravens flying out of trees, their croaking filling the air as Barry rose to his feet, throwing his rifle down and running as fast as his legs could take him. He found a tree and bolted up it, but the bear got to him first. She stood up on her hind legs and gripped his calves pulling him down. He felt the sharp claws dig into the flesh on his calves and screamed, feeling the blood pour from his wounds.

“MR. RAVENSWOOD, HELP ME! OH GOD SOMEONE HELP ME!” He gripped the tree trunk tightly. Henry heard the screaming in the distance and smiled to himself. He had scouted this area out days ago and noticed the mother bear and her cub. He wanted to view the fruits of his labor, but decided not to interfere with the bears’ fun. Barry continued screaming, feeling the cloth of his pants tearing clean off along with his shoes, the bear was climbing after him. Barry finally gave in to the urge to look down, his heart dropped into his stomach as he observed the sight below him, he could see the bone through deep slits in his skin, oozing deep red blood. He pants, his vision going blurry as he cries out for Henry once more before the bear fully climbs up to his neck sinking her teeth into it, paralyzing him. Barry’s body falls limply out of the tree as the mother bear no longer sees the man as a threat and she and her cub walk away. Henry heard the screaming cease and headed that direction choosing to walk slowly as he made it to the clearing he left Barry at he then picks up the pace and runs over to him. Barry coughs his eyes staring ahead at Henry. Henry tsks.

“I told you not to mess with Mama Bear’s baby, did I not?” He said

Henry! Help me… Please! Barry thought he couldn’t speak, he was bleeding profusely.

“I’m afraid the damage is too severe Mr. Claude. It’s okay Barry, go softly into the night… welcome death with open arms…” Henry whispers harshly “I’ll make sure and tell Melanie what happened…” Henry chuckles. “And I’ll make sure Jeremiah is gentle with you.” Barry felt a cold chill go up his spine.

Oh God, did he somehow arrange for this to happen? Did he not approve of Melanie and I’s engagement? Oh God… oh God…

“Shh… no use getting yourself worked up… why don’t you just close your eyes. And sleep, sleep knowing you were not good enough for my daughter. Sleep.” Henry's wide grisly smirk was burned into Barry’s memory as everything faded for him. Henry scoffs, scooping up the dead suitor grimacing at the blood covering him, “My, that bear made a mess out of you.” Next time I have to do this, I’ll try to make it less messy, this will be a pain to clean. Henry made it back to Black Thunder and Teddy, Teddy upon seeing his dead master whinnied and pinned his ears back looking at Henry. Henry eyes the horse and the horse backs down. “Now, will you be a good horse and carry your master back into town?” He puts Barry on the Horse’s back and unhooks the reign from Teddy’s bit, using it to guide the horse back into town. The closer he got to town the faster he made the two horses gallop, he rode back into town, forcing panic into his voice.

“THERE’S BEEN A TERRIBLE ACCIDENT!” Henry yelled as he rushed to the dead center of Thunder Mesa. Sheriff Will Ketchum jerked out of his seat outside of the Jail hearing the older man’s shrill voice.

“Mr. Ravenswood? Are you okay? What happ-?” Ketchum’s heart caught in his throat seeing the mangled Oil Baron’s body.

“Th-there was a bear, and… By the time I had gotten to him. It was too late! I couldn’t save him!” Henry forced out like he was out of breath. “Oh God, he was like my son!” Henry rolled his eyes internally as Will helped him out of his stirrups and grabbed Barry’s body off of the other horse as Jeremiah Nutterville joined him. Henry pretended to be shaken up by it but after everything was said and done he headed back to the Manor, he walked to the Gazebo seeing Melanie and Martha drinking tea and reading books.

“Dad!” Melanie jumps up and hugs him. “Did you have fun on your hunting trip? How’d you and Barry get along?” Henry gently strokes Melanie’s hair. Melanie sees the blood on Henry’s outfit. “Dad? What happened? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m not hurt… but; there was an accident” Henry sighs. “Barry… didn’t make it.” Melanie gasps, hugging Henry tighter.

“What happened?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

“A bear attacked him… by the time I got to him it was too late.” Melanie broke down sobbing into his chest. Henry hugged her close. “Shhh… Shh… it's okay honey… it'll all be okay.” he gently stroked her hair rocking her.

For the time being his little dove was safe from an older man's advantages… and he would do anything to protect his little girl.

#henry ravenswood #phantom manor #melanie ravenswood #Barry Claude #fanfic

21 notes · View notes

steele-soulmate · 14 days

Text

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 598, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character, injured baby, kidnapped child

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS: I am now accepting asks to the characters of Tattooed Wings on my Tumblr, @steele-soulmate! Go and ask Peter, Mary Claire, Elizabeth, Katie, Aria, Evie, the babies, or anyone else your questions!

WORDS: 1037

“Mommy, daddy, what you doin’?” Baby Tommy meeped from his place at the door, his chubby little man face looking at us from over the built in baby gate that had been built into the doorframe.

“Baby Tommy!” Peter wheezed, immediately drawing a blanket up to cover the both of us in our naked state of mind.

“What you doin’?” Baby Tommy repeated himself, the soft padding sound of his footsteps coming into the room as he unlatched and opened the baby gate. “Mommy, daddy, what you doin’?”

“I’m helping mommy to fart!” I burst out into amused laughter at the hurried explanation my husband fed our son.

“Mommy has a blockage in the butt,” I agreed, sniggering at the little white lie that he had just fed to the tiny little man. A loud gasp slipped out past my lips as my final orgasm of the day slipped out, rendering me a limp, purring mess as my husband’s load exploded deep within me as well.

“Ew.” I didn’t have to look to see Baby Tommy wrinkling his tiny baby nose before the soft pad-pad-pad-pad-pad-pad-pad-pad signaled him wandering off. “Mommy go pffffffffffffft.”

I just broke at that point, laughing so hard that I couldn’t breathe as Peter withdrew his deflated meat from deep within me and just collapsed onto our dirty bed with me curled up partway over his manly chest.

“Jesus fuck-” he wheezed, covering his face with a hand as his cheek flushed a deep red color. “I love you sweetheart- but I honestly do thing we should reserve adult sex time for when the kids are out of the house, yeah?”

I was still laughing and was unable to answer him as tears streamed from my eyes.

“My love, I love it when you help me to find a perfect way to fart!” I sniggered, slapping his muscular pectorals. “I do think we should start using that term when we’re around the kids and need to sneak off for a quickie!”

Peter could only let out an embarrassed groan as I gently roasted him in between giggles of mirth, being rewarded with whiskery kisses being lazily pressed to my face.

“I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?” be moaned before getting us both out of bed and carrying me into the bathroom, where he drew a steaming hot bubble bath from me and disappeared back into the bedroom to strip and remake the bed.

“Nope!” I couldn’t stop cackling as he lazily tossed in a floral scented bath bomb, looking up as Primrose padded in, making a swift beeline over towards me and setting her front paws onto the tub and making a skunk like chittering noise towards me. “Hihi there, sweet baby Primrose!” I cooed, scooping up the little skunklet, who had long since went from following closely in Mitten’s footsteps to stampeding around the house, normally either engaging in a round of skunklet zoomies or hunting for the perfect napping spot.

Primrose continued to chatter at me until I gave in and scooped her up into my arms and settling her onto my chest, where she curled into a tight little ball and then promptly went straight to sleep. I squeezed my one tit, cooing softly at the small amount of milk that dribbled out, and I knew that my strong, handsome older husband would only be able to scent my mommy milk, which was slowly starting to dry up.

Sure enough…

“Got milk?” Peter meeped, poking his head into the bathroom. I settled Primrose down onto the floor, where the skunklet woke up and pattered out. Peter stalked towards me, his thick meat lengthening and hardening as he drew closer, and I only stood up and stepped out of the tub, locking our eyes together.

“Do you want milk?” I taunted him, screeching when he grabbed me around my hips and then promptly impaled me upon his now fully inflated girth. I tossed my head backwards, providing him with just enough room for him to latch onto a teat. “DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDY…”

SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-

The bathroom was very quickly filled with the sounds of skin slapping on skin and the stench of raw sex as Peter fed from my drying up supply mommy milk.

I sighed and moaned and gasped as my soulmate fucked me within an inch of my life, reaching higher… and higher… and higher… and higher… and higher… and higher… and higher… and-

SNAP

And with that, I blacked out, the last thing that I was aware of was Peter letting out a feral roar and his manly essence being ejected into me.

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE it only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

2 notes · View notes

gayjesus2023 · 14 days

Text

the maze runner p.2

the maze runner p.2 thomasxf!reader

masterlists

p.1

(Disclaimer: if I mess up some things about the female body I am very sorry!!! btw in p.1 I said that I’ll post this when it gets to 150 likes but yolo🤑(fw: bit of blood (lots), sexual abuse, heavy course language ))

wc:0.6k

the guy named minho lead you and Tom past the little hut and into a field. there seems to be torches lit and when you got a clear view of the people that where standing there. it was the boys from earlier. they were all gathered in a circle and the moment you got with in 10 meters of them they were staring at you. some were more good looking then others.

in the middle of the circle was a guy. his hair was buzzed and dirty blonde. he was extremely muscley. before you could even register what was going on the guy pulled tom into the circle by the arm and punched him in the nose. minho grabbed me and pulled me back. this was horrific. Tom had blood streaming from his nose and all that was done to the other guy was a slit eyebrow.

all of a sudden a little boy with curly brown hair grabbed your arm and pulled you to a different hut. “first fight ey” he says helping you to lie on a hammock. “my names chuck. I’m the youngest here” the little boy says. “are you ok . Gally can be a little aggressive.” he says buttering a peace of bread and giving it to you. “that’s his name. the little shit who hurt tom” you say taking a bite of the bread. chuck stops and pulls up a chair. “listen. I’m not sure what there fighting about but I heard that there was someone special in the infirmary. gally wants to date them but tom says that he nursed her back to health”

the boys clap and cheer as a body is taken down to the infirmary and another one is held on all the other boys shoulders. the boy on the shoulders was gally… you drift of to sleep and in the morning you are awaken by a loud bell. you wake up and head straight to the infirmary. you see tom lying on the bed you where lying on. you run over and start crying on your knees over his hurt body.

“may I come in.” there’s a knock on the door and standing there is the man from last night. “YOU, YOU LITTLE FUCKING BITCH-“ you run at him but he pins you to the wall. “what will you fucking do to me you little weak ass girl” Gally says holding your hands above your head. he slowly I’m buttons your shirt and slowly kisses your freckled tits. he kisses your lips and brings his body close to yours… a bit to close for comfort. He’s ripped of you and Tom is standing there. punching the shit out of Gally.

after he is done with Gally. he grabs your arms and he brings you to a different part of the forest. a flower field. it’s full of tiny white flowers and little dandelions. he runs towards a tree which roots make an arch. he hides both you and him in there. “you saved me” you said to Tom” “SHHHH” he shushes you and looks outside. he suddenly pulls his head back into the little arch. He’s looking for you. he puts his head back out and after a few minutes he grabs your hand. “cmon the coast is clear. what do you want to do?”

a few minutes later your holding a bouquet of white flowers. he lyes on the floor. “cmon” he chuckles. “y/n has anyone here told you what this is.” you lie down next to him “not yet, no” you say “well it’s technically a box with one exit. but beyond that exit is a maze.” “ has anyone got out…” he stares at the clouds “no.. it’s… it changes every night” he switches his focus from the clouds to you. you also look at him. he comes close to you and kisses your lips gently…

book note: second story and for some reason I really want to do a series out of that so yeah… if you want me to post a part 3 get this to 150 likes.

#the maze runner #the maze runner fanfiction #maze runner fandom #the maze runner fanfic #maze runner x reader #x reader #fanfic #thomas x reader #tmr thomas #thomas tmr #tmr

3 notes · View notes

lordhelpme0-0 · 2 years

Text

Goretober 2022

TW: blood mention, gore(?), violent coughing, it’s Halloween and I’m running out….

Fandom: ???

Silence…that was only the very thing I heard. The creaks echoed across the floorboard. Winds shuttering past as howls, delusional they were, roamed the wind. Coursing chills as I fainted forward. With one thing, and one thing on my very meek mind.

Huddling close, I shifted my coat closer. Eyes darting left and right like a prey about to be pounced. Hurrying my steps, dashing across quickly the old croaking home. Trees quickly slammed again…again…and again towards the window sill.

I turned left, or was it right? Hurry! Hurry you disposable dimwit! Hesitating as I stopped before a wooden door. It very presence looked before me, making me feel small…meek.

I shakily touched the bars that will show my very fate. Was it the right one? Yes, yes it was. I wasn’t so sure, nor can I actually see the very light of sureness.

Open it goes, the aching creak pitched with each decibels. Seconds ticked by, but felt as if my every move is counted by time.

My breath ran ragged, holding in and ushering out. A panting mad dog I sounded. A panting…mad…dog.

That’s what they all said, mind cursed to madness. Thrown to the slums and suffering in the rays of torment. I stopped my on slew of pessimistic thoughts. Thoughts they were, tinkering with one mind. I blinked, before heaving a relief.

A relief that will be gone. Gone in seconds I say. I limped, drenched in adrenaline and sweat. Hands shaking, with veins running deep…so deep that I can see bones. My frail fingers grasp the bottle. Except, I was too late.

Times stopped, stopped it was. No..no..no, no, NO! A timer went off, courses of laughter. Haunting me, sneering at me, and speaking horrible things. My tiny follicles of hair pricked up in alert, my breathing shuddered, and shaking.

“..no…No..NO! Please…!!”

A plea that is swept by the wind, never seen. Never heard. My breathing exhilarated. Hearts quicken in pace, vision blurry. I can see patches…but not clear. Red and black…to red and black…again..AGAIN.

Drips, blood drips. I stopped, trying to focus my breathing. Before coughing madly, the chants and chorus rings. Laughter grown led.

Drip.

“Mad dog~! Mad DOG!”

The voices distorted, chanting the same thing. Something salty was tasted, but I was heaving. Crippling on the floor as I gasped for air. I blinked, tears streaming down. I hacked, more so than I thought. The pain convulsed within me, not letting me breath.

Drip.

Small puddles of blood formed, i shakily looked down. Keeling over as my head meets the floor with a bang. I choked, foam forming in the mouth.

The wretched curse, chanting, and ringing growled louder and stronger with seconds passing. My nose, drooling with blood red. Streaming like the River of hell and the fire of death.

Red and black. Red and black. Red. Black. Red and finally on black. I hacked more, dripping blood from my nose. The pain in my chest grew bigger. Like thorns of roses pricking the lungs.

Blood, blood was running out. Running out from the entry of life.

Drip.

Then everything was black. Pitched black. Dark. Dark with nothing. I felt nothing. The curse itself, will haunt me to every life I take. Dark…black….red.

“Mom! Some guy died in a abandoned mansion!” A small little boy, blonde eyes with pearly teeth stumble towards a woman. She bent down smiling, “darling, what nonsense did you hear it from?” He frowned, “the news! It’s everywhere!” The woman frowned.

“Is that so? We’ll go clean your room darling. I’ll meet you in a moment.” The boy smiled, dashed off before she can say anything. Laughing quietly, she put down her knife, washed her hand, and quickly turned on the television.

“Apparently today, a old man who escaped the psych was found dead 2 months later in the Mansion of St. Abbot 546 at the small county Harveston.” The woman continued, “no one knows for sure, but the man may have had a strange death. There was speculations of a stroke, heart attack, or cancer. Except none of the symptoms showed.”

The woman frowned, leaning down to sit on the couch. Quiet, with a father clock ticking each seconds.

“He was found, head down. His nose was continually bleeding. Having looked like a hobo. It was Alexander Gino Wester, a man diagnosed as schizophrenic or mentally brain damaged.”

Before the reporters continued. The woman shut off the television. Her face shaking, losing color as if to faint.

With each breath heaving out, the woman shakily stood up. Her hand grasping touching her lips in fear. “no…no..nononono—!”

Quickly rushing up to her son, where he laid dead. Nose ridden in blood, keeled over…head first.

“XAVIER!!!” The woman broken in hysterics as she ran to her passed son.

Eyes red, checking her son over and over. Wishing, in denial, and grief. “Xavier! Xavier, my baby! Please, honey! PLEASE!”

She cried, weeping over the boy who bleeder from the very entry of life. To this very day, the curse still looms over the family line.

A/n: sorry if it’s short or rushed. Hope you all enjoyed reading this. As I’m rushing to get the prompts done lol. Anyway, I’ll tagged my friends who love gore cause yes. Also needs feedback lol.

Tags: @spoopy-fish-writes @sange-de-romane @evilquartett @a-chaotic-dumbass @mlk082 @vio-simps-for-purple-characters @ren-vv

#goretober #goretober 2022 #written prompt #goretober prompt #nosebleed #gore?#horror #curse #writer post #creative writing

10 notes · View notes

jaws-and-canines · 1 year

Text

Oh, I’ve Really Done It Now

A Count The Days story. Comes after Glass In A Rainbow. Haskell is brought back to the Southglade Major Trauma Center after a major car accident puts an abrupt stop to his time on the run. Contains mentions of suicidal ideation, medical whump, references to a car accident.

---

I come back around with a headache so bad I think that maybe I’ve cracked my skull open on the tarmac. There’s a vague memory of the way they picked me up, the tense ambulance ride- and Angelo, holding my hand. There’s nobody holding my hand now. I don’t know where I am.

“Oh, God, Oh, God, oh, oh,” I mumble, and then I scream, sobbing, crying for someone to hold me because I don’t know where I am and I can’t feel my legs. Everything fucking hurts and yet, I can’t feel my legs. Fuck where I am. I can’t feel my legs. The thought that I’ve broken my fucking neck flickers across my mind.

I try to sit up and fail to even lift my head. "I can't feel my legs," I howl, afraid that my instincts are correct, a sickening feeling forming in the pit of my stomach. "Am I dead?" I sob, in a voice that barely sounds like my own. “Tell me I’m dead. I’m dead. Tell me I’m-”

“Haveter, you’re not dead.” Nelson’s harsh accent cuts through the fog around me. Everything’s too fucking bright in the little white room and I can’t fucking move. He puts a hand on my shoulder as I try and fail miserably to sit up. "Don't try and move. Do you know where you are?"

I lift one hand. It’s wrapped up in a cast. I lift the other. Splinted, but they’ve cuffed me to the bed’s siding all the same. I groan. My head is pounding but all I can think about is what the Specials are going to do to me for this. They’re going to dissect me like warm fucking bread for this. A fugitive, a coward and a traitor to their ethos is not a good thing to be viewed as.

I really thought I could make it to Dover. I’m not making it anywhere any time soon.

The thought dawns on me that Nelson is armed. In my desperation I can think of only one relatively painless way out of this. I’ll be damned but I don’t care. "Fucking kill me, Nelson," I breathe. “Please.” His tone of voice doesn’t change. "I'm sorry, Haskell," he says. "I really am. You’re in Resus at Southglade. You’ve been in an accident. Do you know what happened?" "Put your pistol in my mouth and pull the trigger," I say, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. "Kill me. I'm begging you to fucking kill me before the Specials get here. Fuck, please."

"You know I can't do that," he says. “Even if I would, the staff here wouldn’t let me.”

My heart seems to break in my chest. I’m fucking terrified and I don’t really know why. “Okay,” I whimper, my face crumpling. “I don’t want the Specials to hurt me, Scott, I don’t.” I sniff, letting the tears stream down my face. I dissolve into silent sobbing. Fucking pathetic. I was once a damn good soldier and now what? I’m a snivelling mess who can’t feel his own fucking legs. "It's not fair," I say weakly, and then drop my voice to a low whisper. “They’re here, aren’t they?”

He nods slowly, and tips his head towards just outside the cubicle. “Life isn't fair," he says. “I’m sorry, lad, but it’s the truth.”

In comes Isaac Noble in his teal scrubs. Part of me screams a sort of grief that if I die, it’ll be under the care of the man who my wife left me for, but the other breathes a sigh of relief. He is the best of the best. He’s fucking huge. I can only see him from where I’m lying flat on my back, immobilised, because he damn near grazes the ceiling. He throws the curtains shut behind him, so it’s just me, him and Nelson in the tiny cubicle and leans over to silence the monitors. I just stare at him with my one unfocused eye. It doesn’t look like it’s good news.

“I’m afraid something showed up on the head MRI. Haskell, we’re going to have to move quickly, alright?” He talks quietly but clearly. “You’re bleeding into your brain.”

Blood in my brain doesn’t really seem to make sense at that moment. Ironically, the headache stifles my ability to think. I furrow my brow. The glass in my face shifts and blood dribbles down my grazed-raw cheeks. “I’m… I’m what?”

“You’re bleeding into your brain.” He pauses. “Slowly, but it is happening. We need to fix that before it becomes a problem. There’s only so much space in your skull. So we need to put a hole in your skull, find what’s bleeding and patch it up.” He stoops down to my level. “There’s risk in it, of course, but if we do nothing, you will die. So we’re going to do it. Alright?”

I know the answer already but I ask anyway. “Do I have a choice?” I say. I know the State has taken my right to object to this away from me. If they can, they’ll try to put me together again just to tear me apart.

Isaac’s expression softens and he shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

I cry so hard that this time, I am actually sick. Someone wipes my mouth for me. That’s what sticks with me. I don’t really process anything else. This is not the way I want to die, I keep thinking as they start running the drugs to put me under. This is not the way I want to die. Oh, I’ve really done it now, I think. This is not the way I want to die. And then I’m gone.

#count the days #cw car accident #cw sui #whump #whumpblr #writing #writeblr #i am not sorry for this #lmao #also if you know what the titles are referencing no you do not

5 notes · View notes

unknownjpegs · 4 months

Text

water

There is a nymph in the river.

Or, at least, he thinks it must be one. She faces away, baring to him a regal, pale back. Angular shoulders, the hint of a curved breast when her arms lift. Not as big as he’d like, but decent enough handfuls. What he’s most struck by, embarrassingly, is her hair. It’s a strange color. Red the color of drying blood, wet darkened it further. It sticks to her skin in snake-like coils, swirls in the current.

Suddenly, his head wrenched back. He sees the sky instead of pale flesh, a rushing current. Pain at his throat, a straight lick of a blade across the curve.

“Please,” the man says, holding his hands up. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I’m sure you don’t want to hurt me. Please. I’m a father.”

The small hooded figure smiles, but he cannot see it. If he could, he would piss himself at the unnatural shade offered by the hood. Like gazing into the deep, dark night. “And I a mother.”

Terror rips through him at the coldness of that statement, a sting just as sweet as the thing across his throat. “Listen. T-then you’ll want to see your child again. If you’re lost, I can take you to the road.”

The blade presses down. In. He tries to bolster himself, tries to rise from his knees and stand. Imagines spinning and knocking it away, saving himself. Finds that he cannot move.

He cannot move.

His limbs are heavy and cold. Like the chill river water has crept upwards -- defied the forces of nature and gravity, slid through the bank. Breached his skin. Coiled into his veins.

“Fool,” the woman sneers. He hears the sharpness of that smile now, worse than the weapon wielded. “These woods are my own. And it is my child you gaze upon.”

What a strange sensation it is, to gulp as the knife glides gently across his throat. It is the last sensation he feels before he slumps forward to the ground, dead.

Jacqueline watches the red tide spill forth. The soil is already healthy — a dark, nutrient-rich brown. And yet the blood melts into it, moisture sucked and drank down, down, down into the earth. A bird chirps overhead.

“Be quick about it, Til.” She calls down to the river. Begins to strip the man of his clothes, his armor, his weapon. Pockets what she finds interesting within his bag. “We’ve breakfast waiting.”

“Yes, mother.”

They come together because her mother owes his father a favor. Of what sort, Matilda cannot fathom. Her mother has spoken of debt for all of her days. Said it is not something to offer yourself up to, if you can help it.

But she greets the greyed man with familiarity. Opens her arms for a hug. Matilda is dismissed while they talk, and then when she returns, her mother says only:

“You are to see the world.”

And that is how she meets him. The man that will become one of her dearest friends. The man who, were she much more inclined towards the arts of an oracle, she would see even now as king.

He just looks, she thinks, sad. And angry. There is a great weight in his shoulders, something a hair wicked under the surface. Even when he beams at his father, even when his eyes fill with tears as they part and hug and whisper assurances to each other.

There is a great weight, and he carries it with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what they must do to alleviate it.

Her hand hovers an inch over brown skin, slicked by the water. It glances over the wound, dripping off. Tides over the red ooze leaking from the gash into a shiny pearl-pink. She dries it, presses down with her palm until the bleeding ebbs mostly away. Dips it under the cool stream and watches the coagulating blood catch in the current, carried off the slope.

There is a little pond below the tiny waterfall they have crouched next to so his injury might be tended to. The soft burble of it, the pit-pat of the water, makes her homesick.

Perhaps she is not the only one. Benji stares down at his lap. There is a tiny square of fabric in his fingers. During the scuffle, it’d been soaked near-through with his own blood. What was once a charming little embroidered duck sporting a crown, a design fit for a child’s tunic, now is obscured by thick red.

There are tears in his dark, cow-like eyes that make her pause. A bit shocking from such a tough, silent type. But she knows — quite personally — that sentimentality makes fools of even the most frigid. A throwing knife tucked into her boot, stolen while its owner slept soundly, attests.

In case my magic fails. In case I must resort to such measures. It had been impossible to convince herself. Instead: in case we do not meet again.

“Look. It is not so bad.” Twists his leg so he can see the shallow parting of flesh where the knife had swiped. She is so poor at comfort. A little better a healer, but not by a terrible margin.

“You’ll have another scar, my friend, but it will fade in time. Shake your troubles off.”

But she knows that isn’t what twists at his throat. The tiny duck does.

“Do you miss your mother?” Benji asks, his lilting common accent quiet with despair.

Matilda doesn’t have to for the magic to work, but she presses her warming hand to his leg. So poor at comfort.

“No,” she says, waiting for the wound to pulse at her enough, enough, I am mended. It does after a very long moment. And only then she offers, “Yes. Like there is a void in me. My brothers too, but they are much further than the forest.”

“And your father?”

Her smile is sharp, eyes flashing wide and cruel. “No. I wish him rot. Do you miss yours?”

“Rot. One of them.” Benji grins back with an angry fierceness that she recognizes from within.

She reaches out and takes the fabric square from him. Presses her palm to the ground, where the grass brittles and dies in the shape of it. Then, with a care to the age of Benji’s little duck, she dunks it into the stream.

“Wash clean,” she intones, “And always go unstained.”

The duck is pristine. She can feel the love stitched into its little wings, the glimmering gold crown. Stronger and more potent than the magic she’d just blessed it with.

Benji takes it from her, squeezing out some of the water into the edge of his cloak. His eyes look no less dry. His face is dirty from their travels. When he blinks, a tear rolls off his cheek and cleans some of the grime.

Matilda shrugs. “There is power in water. Power in all things, of course, but water is where it begins.” She reaches out and taps his chest, flattens her palm over her own. “It flows in us as blood. Water knows it all.”

“All of it?” He wrinkles his nose. He’s spoken a little about his adoptive father, his trinkets and charms that hung from the rafters of their farmhouse, the barn, the fence. Anything that needed blessed, anything that a wandering traveler might find use and buy from him. Not simple magic, by any means, but clearly the only sort Benji had ever known.

“All of it.”

Later, he comes to her. There is another bundle of cloth in his hands.

And so they sit by the singing stream, which flows across the earth cornflower blue and shiny in the moonlight.

“You will not get it back,” Matilda says, her arm over his wrist. “To work, the magic will take it.”

Benji hesitates. His thumb brushes over the bundle; simple brown canvas. Then he pulls it back. She thinks for a moment it is his own hair, sticky-red like the duck had been. Or hers, even, it is that vibrant a color. But no, it’s a little more burnished. Tinged orange like flame, wound together in a braid that has started to flay apart at the edges.

It is so old. Matilda thinks. How long has he held onto this?

Benji touches it with three fingers, rubs down the curves of the braid with such intimacy that Matilda feels the need to avert her eyes.

“I need to know.”

And so she lights one of the tall candles her mother packed. The nice one, dyed a striking, mysterious color from nightshade blossoms. Benji’s hand in hers, the lock of hair in the other, she murmurs a spell. When her hand dips into the water, it doesn’t so much unspool and drift away as it…shimmers. Disappears. Gone wherever things go when they dip beneath the surface.

Her stomach turns when no image springs forth in the water. No glimmer of a room, of this braid-bearer’s face. Just cloudy, obscured. Nothing. She has never had that happen before.

Benji makes a sound that she’s only ever heard from mourners in private. One that she herself, companioned only by grief, has made.

To offer him privacy, she pretends she does not hear it.

“They could be shrouded, perhaps.” Matilda offers softly. “Some strange energy or protective spell?” But she knows she does not sound confident in that. She is not.

They are both quiet for an incredible time. Night-forest sounds around them, the calls of cicadas and distant beasts.

Benji finally pushes himself to his feet. Stands above the stream, gazing into it. Stares for as long as they’ve sat there.

And then, starling her, he reaches down and pries a smooth stone from its depths. Throws it, sailing through the air like a weapon, with a bellow. It land far in the distance into the pond below. Plonks quite satisfactorily and sinks to the bottom. Matilda supposes it is not so satisfactory an emotion.

She has naught an idea of reassurance to offer — so poor with comfort. She has only ever felt her own grief. Knows well that it goes forever, aches always, but this the worst part. The beginning. There is no comfort no healing no promise of unstained that she or anyone could offer to make it hurt less.

“We’ll be off by sunrise,” Benji whispers, barely audible over the stream. His voice is as wet-sounding, but sure. Confident. “And remember to refill your canteen. We have places to be and not much time.”

#writing #ua #bp #mmr #fantasy au

0 notes

freedom-of-speech333 · 10 months

Text

How Many Promises Did You Keep by Freedom_of_speech333 on ao3

Summary:

When you die, the Tribunal judges you based on the promises you have kept, and broken. Did you keep your word? One shot fic where Tomura Shigaraki and Hawks are judged together in the After.

The last thing Hawks saw was bright blue eyes as chilling fire burned his hollow bones. The fastest hero alive was dead.

‘That hurts.’ Hawks looked up at a looming Tribunal of eyes staring down at him. The atmosphere, and everything else, seemed devoid of color.

‘Where am I?’ A scraggly man with blue hair and red eyes said. His neck and arms were covered with flaking skin, hands scratching as blood ran down his throat. Tomura Shigaraki was here.

At least he’s dead too.

‘You stand at the Tribunal of Vows. During your lives you both have made promises. We shall judge you by the amount you have kept, and those you have broken.’ The Tribunal boomed. Keigo wrapped his wings around his now tiny body. He felt like a child, unable to speak loud enough. They don’t understand, I was helping people. There was a reason for the lies. I did what I had to.

‘Keigo Takami, how many promises did you break? Was there no other way for you to live? You chose a life of deceit. For this you shall be….’

‘I was protecting people! Keeping them safe! Look at him, not me! He killed people! Hundreds!’ Keigo fluttered his useless baby wings, it wasn’t fair. He saved people. Protected them. What good was a promise next to that?

‘I’m sorry. He’s right. I deserve to be punished.’ Tenko Shimura said. Black hair fell across his face as he stared at the motionless gray around him. I broke my promise. I told Hana I’d be a hero. We were supposed to be hero’s together.

‘Ah, but you did keep your promise little Tenko.’ A tall woman with long black hair pulled into a bun approached Tenko and pulled him aside. Keigo and the tribunal dissolved as he stepped into a green field of dandelions.

‘How did I keep my promise Nana?’ He looked up at Nana Shimura’s shining grey eyes. They seemed so kind, those eyes.

‘You were a hero to your friends. To Spinner, Toga, and even Compress. You showed them the world could change. That they could be themselves.’ Nana Shimura looked at a distant mountain, contemplating its peaks. ‘All I wanted to do was make a world where people could be themselves, where they could smile. I caused the people closest to me the greatest pain. You did the opposite. The people you called friends found joy in your presence. That is a promise kept.’

‘I hurt a lot of people. I wanted to hurt them. All of them.’ Tenko gripped his hands into fists, nails pushing into his palms.

‘I broke my promise. I promised to protect my little boy. You had to live with the demon I couldn’t beat.’ Nana knelt down and gently held Tenko’s hands, staring into his rose red eyes. ‘But even then, you kept your promises. You lived true to yourself. That is what matters in the end. Living honestly.’

Tenko smiled. He did his best. ‘Can I play with Hana now?’

Nana smiled as Hana Shimura ran toward Keigo from behind a tree, laughing as she grabbed her brothers hand.

‘Of course you can play with me, let’s go you big dummy!’ She pulled Tenko down the hill towards a group of kids playing soccer. He started kicking the ball and chasing down the others. He was happy.

•••••••••••

‘I had to lie! They told me to! I did keep promises, I promised to be loyal, I didn’t want to lie! I had too!’ Tears were streaming down Keigo’s face, it wasn’t fare, why did the villain get to go to the good place! I was the good one!

‘Keigo, calm down. Their right. We broke our promises and now it’s time to fix them.’ Endeavor, no, Enji Todoroki stood next to the Tribunal, hand outstretched to help Keigo up from the floor.

‘But I don’t want to be hurt anymore’ His golden eyes were filled with tears, wings sagging to the ground.

‘Keigo, it’s time to go, we have another chance, to live a better life this time. To prove we can be better.’ Enji softly tugged Keigo’s hand, his sad eyes reminding him of another young boy. One he had failed.

‘What if I fail again?’ Keigo shuffled his feet, failure hurts. Enji paused, causing Keigo to bump into him from behind. They were now in a long hallway filled with mirrors reflecting their past, their broken promises. Enji stared at an image of Touya, his skin charred and smoking as he begged for Endeavor to see him.

‘Then we’ll try again. We’ll keep trying until we get it right, until we can join them in the fields.’

Keigo looked into a cracked mirror, Twice’s face staring back. He promised to help him, to give him a better life. Then he stabbed him in the back. Shaking his head, he walked forward with Endeavor. I’ll help him this time, we’ll be friends. This time will be different.

•••••••••

Time passes differently in the After. A thousand lifetimes could be passed, a thousand attempts to be honest, to keep promises. But the moment they succeed, all others fade into nonexistence.

We, the Tribunal, look after them. We shall watch them until they are ready. And then they shall live again. Someone new this time, a different life, another chance to be themselves. Whoever they become, we shall care for them.

We care for them all.

#hawks #bnha fanfic #hawks fanfic #keigo takami #tomura shigaraki #tenko shimura #shiggy fanfic

0 notes

silverdelirium · 3 years

Text

WARM UP | F.W

SUMMARY ➠ pornstar!fred warms newbie!reader up before you film for the first time.

WARNINGS ➠ innocence kink, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, daddy kink, nicknames. don’t read if any of these make you uncomfortable or sound unappealing.

WORD COUNT ➠ 1.3k

———

the sound of a fist lightly pounding on the wood of your door hit your ears.

“come in!” you acknowledged, throwing one last— anxious— look at yourself in the mirror.

“hi there, gorgeous” crooned fred, his already bare chest making the apple of your cheeks go slightly hot.

you gave him a tight lipped smile, “hi fred”.

he chuckled. “you nervous?”.

you watched him seat on the sofa that was pushed against the wall of your dressing room.

“a bit” you shrugged, releasing a breath that was cut short just seconds later when fred stood up abruptly, coming to a halt when he had you trapped between the vanity and him.

he lowered his head so he was in line with your vision. “well don’t be, i won’t bite— unless you ask me to”

fred pulled away from your flushed state with a chuckle, leaning back against the wall as he watched you play with the hem if your see-through skirt.

“i just— i’ve never done this before. or at least not with anyone else in the room and— and there’s gonna be at least ten more people there i just-“

“hey, hey, hey. relax, darling” soothed fred, cutting of your rant by planting both large palms on your upper arms. “we can always tell them to give you a break, you know that”

you felt easiness bleed through your veins, those simple words somehow calming you more.

“you’re right, i’m just kinda freaked out at the whole situation i think”

the redhead hummed. “well, i have this one method that always helps with pre-shooting anxiety, you know?” his tone dropped to an octave.

your head cocked to the side “oh. what’s it about?”

blood rushed to fred’s groin.

“i call it” he paused, twirling a strand of your soft hair in his finger. “a warm-up, it’s very easy, we just gotta— practice what we’re gonna do. so it’s easier for when we film”

you swallowed the lump in your throat at the sudden proximity you shared with the tall male. your voice was quiet, just above a whisper, when you spoke “can we do it?”

the glint in fred’s eyes set the tip of your nerves on fire, the incredibly small panties you wore dampened by the second as you felt his hard cock poking your stomach, the thin fabric of his tousers doing nothing to cover up the tent in them.

“well why don’t you get down on your knees for daddy, hm?” he spoke, seduction lacing his voice.

the nickname he used for himself only made your clit pulse harsher, a wave of slick gushing out of you.

you nodded curtly, heaving “yes daddy” as you sunk down, makeup covered eyes not leaving his. your fingers curled at the hem of your mini skirt as fred took out his girth, weeping tip right in line with your salivating mouth.

“you gonna take me nice and deep in your little throat, won’t you, angel?” he taunted, smearing the pre-cum over your plump lips.

“mhm, want you in my— hmph!” you were cut off by his thick cock pushing down your throat almost forcefully.

he hummed in pleasure, “that’s a good slut, fuck such a tiny little throat, i’m gonna leave you all fucking ruined, my love”

you looked at him through thick layers of tears, the mascare streaming down your hollowed cheeks like waterfall twins.

his hips snapped into your mouth at a relentless pace, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as his balls slapped against your chin, your nose nuzzling slightly into the truffle of hair that covered his pubic bone.

“fuck, you suck my cock like a goddamn whore, baby? thought you didn’t know what you were doing, or are you lying to daddy, pet?” he snarled, chest heaving up and down as your throat contracted around his cock, as if you were suppressing a gag (which you probably were).

your clit throbbed with neediness, your juices flowing out like an open faucet as the man continued to groan your name.

you felt his cock twitching, meaning he was close to toppling over the edge and falling into a fluffy cloud of gluttony.

hot spurts of cum sprayed your mouth, and since his tip was kissing the back of your gullet, you had no option but to swallow the bittersweet substance, not that you minded anyways.

he carefully pulled out of your mouth, smearing the last weak streams over your cheek.

your chest went up and down heavily as you recovered all the lost air from before, big doe eyes still in a trance with fred’s.

“get up, gorgeous, gonna give my good girl a reward” he winked, bringing a hand forward to help you up, which you gladly took, wanting nothing more than to take care of the agonizing desire that emitted from between your legs.

“daddy, please. hurts!” you whined, your hips bucking into his.

one hard glance from fred was all it took for you to stop your antics, bottom lip being gnawed at by your top teeth as he hoisted you up on the vanity.

“if you continue to act all greedy you’re not getting anything, poppet, you understand?”

“yes”

“yes what?” his right hand grabbed at your face harshly, making your lips pucker up.

“yes daddy” you whimpered, trying your best to not let your thighs clench.

the corner of his lips went up, “hm, good slut” he whispered, mouth right next to your ear as he looked down at you.

“now spread those fucking legs”.

your legs separated almost immediately, as if he controlled them.

the pads of his fingers traveled in circular motions up your— quivering— thigh, his pinky sometimes brushing against the drowned panties you were wearing.

“can feel how needy you are, baby, already throbbing and i haven’t even touched you, what a little whore” he chuckled, not giving you time to response as he ripped the material that covered your sopping heat with one quick move of his hand.

“please” you begged. “please touch me, daddy— need it so bad”

he feigned remorse, his bottom lip jutting out in a fake pout as he tutted “you want me to touch you, pretty girl? alright then, only because you asked so nicely” he agreed.

his digits were knuckles deep inside you faster than you could blink. your arousal dripping down the cool material beneath you while he scissored his fingers inside you, feeling the smooth walls flutter around them.

“so fucking tight, can only imagine the way you’ll squeeze my cock, sweetheart” he grunted, hazel optics trained on yours as he sloppily thrusted his hand into your cunt.

“that feels so good, daddy, don’t stop please” you mewled, clawing at his forearm as he caressed your g-spot with the tip of his fingers.

“my god, you’re so wet, can’t wait for the whole fucking world to see you fall apart beneath me like a common slut off the streets would” he sighed, thumb coming to circle at your bud.

moan after moan was pulled from you, your muscles tensing as the coil in your lower abdomen intensified.

“daddy” you blabbered, catching fred’s attention. “what is it, sweets?”

“wanna cum!” you whined, the way he thumbed at your mound making your thighs shudder.

“yeah? you wanna make a mess on my hand?” he teased, speeding the pace of his fingers.

you gave him rapid nods in response, too busy bathing in the pleasure he provided when suddenly it was pulled from you, coaxing a loud cry from the depths of your fucked throat.

“no! please, daddy!” you sobbed, tears strolling down your face.

what a greedy brat, thought fred. one denied orgasm and it’s like you killed her entire family.

“don’t like a little crybaby with me, princess” he pointed his— drenched— finger at you.

“b—but-“

fred shook his head “no buts, im making your first orgasm with me on camera, so i can watch it over and over again with my hand wrapped around my cock, dreaming its your little cunt that i’m about to fuck for everyone to see”

———

[follow my library blog and turn on notifications to know whenever i post a fic!]

🏷: @whoreforgeorgeandfred @abbott27@elizabethrosedarling @malfoyspov @justadreamyhufflepuff @pixaura @mollysolo @princess-jules47 @ilovejamespotter @arisblackhole @yiamalfoy @brattypeony @myalupinblack @slut4tamaki @nic0lodean @harmqnia @pottahishotasf@luvsory @remusluvr @alic3cullenswife @wolfstar-lb @randomstufflol29 @4ndr3lia@acciodignity @kayleigh @maeve-7 @simpforremuslupin

#fred weasley #pornstar!fred #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley one shot #fred smut #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader smut #fred weasley au #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred x reader smut #hp fandom

3K notes · View notes