#and then the only way to not crash is to have your big accomplishment be 'i went to the gym' 'i took a shower' 'i answered a message' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fushic0re · 5 months

Text

𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐓?

𝗗𝗔𝗗!𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝘅 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟖 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ in which you and satoru finally have some alone time…except baby gojo is vigilantly watching for santa’s arrival.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. SMUT; penetrative sex, trying to keep it quiet, getting caught. baby gojo being an especially cute cockblock.

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

“TORU–” YOU PANT AGAINST YOUR HUSBAND’S EAR.

Satoru grunts in response. His large hands tighten around the meat of your thighs, his fingers leaving an indentation against your skin from his grip. His hips move with more vigor, pounding into you wildly as he loses every piece of himself to pull of your velvety walls. Each thrust draws him deeper and deeper into your heat, a feeling he missed oh so much. While fatherhood was the biggest calling of his life and his proudest accomplishment, he definitely missed the spontaneous aspect of his relationship with you–quickies in places you most definitely should not be having sex in, watching you cook and deciding then and there to bend you over the kitchen counter to have his way with you, being late to commitments because he decided to spend an extra hour or two in bed with you, the whole nine yards.

You were everything–a mother, the woman who birthed the first Gojo heir in years, an amazing sorcerer. But you were his girl before everything else. And now that your son was asleep after the sugar crash he had from too many cookies at the Christmas Eve party, it was prime time for him to remind you of just how much he loved you.

“Hah…shit–”

“Mama? Dada?”

Time freezes for a moment as do you and Satoru, staring at each other as your bodies stiffen as if remaining oh so still will make your son unsee the sight before his innocent eyes. You quickly snap out of it, yanking the throw blanket hanging from the back of the couch and wrapping it around you both. To the innocent eye, it looks as if you and your husband were just having a cuddle. Satoru follows suit, lifting his blindfold off to stare at his son lovingly.

“What’s up, little man? You should be sleeping that sugar rush off.” He chuckles, completely unphased by the fact that your son had just walked in on the both of you.

The Gojo heir rubs his sleepy eyes with his small fists.

“Is Santa here yet? Y-Yuuji said he would be here soon…” He mumbles, his little voice raspy.

You look at Satoru with wide eyes for a moment before nervously laughing as you pull the blanket tighter around your bare forms.

“No, baby. Santa doesn’t come until very, very late when all you babies are fast asleep. Go back to sleep, you have nothing to worry about.” You assure.

Your son is just about to walk off when his eyes fully register what is in front of him. Under the impression that you have been fully caught, you slap your husband’s chest.

“Do something.” You hiss.

“I don’t know, babe, this is kinda funny–”

“I told you too much sugar would mess with his sleep schedule! I told you!”

“Okay, but how was I supposed to know Yuuji was going to get him all Santa-crazed–”

“Because you are his dad! Dads know these things!”

“...You sayin’ I’m a DILF?”

“A..Are you guys c-cuddling without m-me?”

You and Satoru’s incessant bickering comes to a halt. Both of your hearts break at the sight of those big blue eyes welling up with tears, that pouty bottom lip trembling as he clutches his blanket for comfort. Just like that, your shared kryptonite had rendered you both fightless. When your son cried, angels cried for him. Satoru springs into action, pulling on his boxers and scooping your son up into his arms. You try your best to, but the ache and empty feeling in between your legs cannot be ignored.

“I’m sorry, buddy. Your momma wanted daddy all for herself because she gets jealous.” Satoru dramatically wails, hugging your baby and rocking him in his arms.

You gasp as you stare at him incredulously. Was he seriously throwing you under the bus? Turning you against your own son?

“Excuse me?!”

“Come on, let daddy take you to bed for some snuggles aaaaaalll by yourself!” He cries out once more.

With that, Satoru easily diverted the situation. He grins at you as he carries your baby boy back to bed, the latter falling asleep in the comfort of his arms as he does so.

“Bad mommy.” Your little one murmurs as his father descends down the hallway, leaving you floored.

Satoru Gojo would receive one, and only one, gift that year….blue balls. And not in the form of ornaments.

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #dad!satoru gojo x reader #dad!gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo fluff

5K notes · View notes

fayesia · 6 months

Text

Sex pollen — Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

a/n: Hi quickly wanted to say that it was not supposed to be this long but once I started writing i kinda just went with it lol. I’m also pretty new to writing smut but hopefully y’all like this :D

Warnings: nsfw 18+, p in v, unprotected sex, praise kink, creampie, dirty talk, size difference, rough sex, squirting, lmk if i missed anything!!

This recent task wasn’t one of the harder ones, easily able to be accomplished in about 2 hours, it was the venture home that took the most out of you. Trudging through the forest with its vast species of fauna and flora had been beautiful but also uncomfortable, from both the exhaustion and the heat of the tropical climate.

However things only seem to get worse for the team as the sun was setting and darkness surrounded the group from every side. A guttural howl was heard coming from behind, deep in the thick cluster of trees, the beasts were coming out to play. “Runnnn!!! Go go go, pick up the pace, let’s keep moving!” You heard Simon yelling from your right at the rest of the team lagging behind.“We’re about 100m from base, keep it moving!! We’re all making it back alive tonight no matter what , Let’s GO!” You were about to ask him a question turning your head to the right until your foot got caught on a lifted tree root.

You stretch out your hands ready to support yourself from crashing head first into large rocks, feeling two muscular arms wrap around you. Unaware of who it was, the both of you start rolling down a ditch off the side of the path leading to home base. Expecting to fall into more rocks, you instead feel the cushion of large soft petals belonging to some unknown plant—a large plant for sure. Quickly sitting up you come face to face with Simon, he rushes to you, looking down as puffs of pink dust rise from the pores of the petals after every step he takes.

The two of you cough as the pollen invades your nostrils, seeping into every crevice of your combat suits and Simons mask. You try to orientate yourself attempting to get up only to fall down again, sharp pain searing through your ankle, you grab onto Simon for support. “Looks like my ankle took most of the fall eh?” You attempt to lighten up the mood only Simon doesn’t seem to reciprocate this idea.

“You’re hurt. This isn’t good, we have to get back to base before something else attack-“ his sentence is cut short as he sees you inspecting the tears in your suit. One along the shoulder of your right arm sleeve to your collarbone, another where you injured your ankle and the last one visible to him is on your inner thigh stretching all the way to your hip. Looking up you sheepishly apologise, “sorry heh didnt know so many things would cut through the suit, didn’t want to wear the heavy combat one for such an easy mission.”

“It’s fine, come on we’ve got to find a way back” he states after a moment of silence as his eyes raked you up and down, you simply took this as his way of assessing the situation of your ankle. Wrapping an arm around his waist he tries to find a path yet as far as your eyes can see in the pitch black of the night is more pink petals. Simons steps only seem to agitate the unknown flora even more causing large clouds of dust to invade your senses.

“Let’s take a break” you suggest after you both had only ventured a few meters away, but Simons breathing had picked up and his uncommon stumbling seemed to be happening more. You turn to him lightly giggling, “i don’t remember being that heavy to such a big boy like you”

“no no its not that” he’s quick to reassure you, never wanting you to undermine his strength. “It’s just-i don’t know something in the air is making the temperature rise, don’t you feel it?”

Now, you have been well aware of the heat, the reason you asked to take a break in the first place was because of that, the almost unbearable feeling prickling at every cell in your body. And yes you hated to admit, but mostly attacking your nether regions where the heat seemed to escape from the most. “Y-yeah i feel it to”. Simon stares into your eyes, slowly crawling closer to you in hopes of releasing less dust from his movements. You also near him, briefly pausing before your lightheadedness takes over, causing you to fall straight on top of him. The small size of you is barely enough to push his large frame over, leaving you sat in his lap against his gun— wait why would his gun be in the middle of his pants—oh…Your face turns a deep red but embarrassment is something neither of you have the time or patience for. The contact releases a lengthy groan from Simon and his hips grinding upwards has you moaning with need.

“Fuck what’s causing this”

“i done have a clue but right now i dont give a fuck i just need to fucking consume every part of you.” His words cause more moans to come out from your mouth. You get to work tugging down his pants pulling out his long fully erect dick, the tip is a pulsing aggressive red and it’s covered in thick throbbing veins. Your hand barely wraps around the girth of it and you’re sure you can’t take all of it, imagining Simon trying to fit it inside of you, prompts more moans to fall from your mouth. This train of dirty images are cut short as Simon flips you on your back, his fingers tug and pull at your suit while you yelp from the sudden movement. Finally his hands take opportunity of the rips caused by your fall, practically tearing the stretchy skin-tight material from you body leaving your top half completely bare.

“Fuck arent you just beautiful, been hiding all of this the whole time you’ve been on the team huh?” He growls against your skin covered by a thin sheen of sweat. He licks from your neck down to your right nipple and then to your left one. Grabbing the two soft squishy fats of skin into his big hands he pushes them together rubbing his face between the two, “god love your tits so fucking much just molded to fit right in my hands huh”. Unable to reply you simply let out breathy moans at his rough actions.

Crawling lower to where your neediest he runs his hand along you suit covered pussy, feeling the wetness drench the material the more he rubs against you. “Who knew we had such a fucking slut on the team, pussy’s so fuckin’ wet just begging to get filled by a thick cock like mine”. You nod your head, “yes yes please fuck me mmm”. He grabs onto the ripped material at your thigh creating an even larger hole to access your pussy, your suit—if you can even call it that anymore—is now just two scraps of material covering your calves. “Guess i gotta give this whore what she wants” he replies slapping your tits as you moan. “Mhm please touch me, fuck me anything I need you so bad”

“aw just begging for this cock aren’t you…i don’t think you should have it just yet though, i mean you’re the one who got us into this mess in the first place, isn’t that right?”

“What no no hhnng please do something anything” at this he lowers himself to lie on his front, grabs onto your hip and drags your pussy a few inches from your face. Immediately you thrust your hips forwards keen for any skin to skin contact. “Mm shit such a pretty pussy just like your pretty face, soaking wet for me” he brings his fingers to your mouth, pushing them past your lips, you suck on them just like you would on his cock drenching the two fingers in copious amounts of spit bobbing your head up and down. While you were busy with that he lifts up his mask to his nose and sticks out his tongue to lick a large stripe from your ass to clit, finally relieving you as your head falls back against the soft cushions of the petals.

His first taste of you. He goes wild. Biting at your inner thighs and kissing his way to your sex. Spit is falling from his lips all over your pussy as his mouth travels up and down to every crevice of your vagina. The sinful sounds echo across the eerily silent forest as he plunges two of his spit covered fingers into you, the large size of them easily reaching deeper than your small dainty ones have ever. You’re unable to control your moans as he further stimulates your clit with his mouth and tongue while his fingers push and rub against your g-spot. Your juices drip against his chin mixing with his spit creating more and more fluid to rub all over his face. “Im gonna cum omg Simon fuck keep going”

“just like that baby cum all over me”. With one last curl of his fingers against your walls you feel yourself let go releasing a waterfall of your cum in his mouth and drenching his face in the process. He laps you up like a dog starved of thirst “mmh good fucking slut, gonna reward you now. Stuff my whore nice and full with this dick”

His hands grab your hips flipping you over with a soft thud, pulling your ass flush against his stiff cock positioning your back into a deep arch. He enters you in one swift go smacking your ass as he thrusts in and out. Your nails grip into the petals the same way his did on your ass forming crescent shaped marks across your plump skin. You were sure to wake up with marks everywhere tomorrow, from bites to bruises.

“Ahhh so good, nice and full now aren’t you, fuckin’ slut was waiting for this to happen weren’t you, probably fell on purpose, wore this tight suit hoping I’d just fuck you”

“Yesyesyes please let me cum please sir” “let go baby”

Once again you fall apart on Simons cock tightening and pulsing around the thick intrusion. He drives into you harder getting closer to cumming as you go dumb on his dick. His hand pushes your face into the comfort of the silky petals and your a drooling mess, with the only thought in your head being the way his cook feels inside of you as his balls slap loud and heavily against your clit. The feeling of your wet channel tightening from the overstimulation of his pumping has him reaching his climax, one last hard inward thrust of his hips has him releasing his hot load in you, the amount almost inhumane as it starts spilling out onto the sides of his cock, a white foamy ring of your mixed cum reaching the base.

He gently pulls out, eyes fixated on the heavenly sight of his cum oozing out from your hole, running down your clit to the petals you lay on. Your laying there like a descended angel with dazed eyes..and the last thing you remember is seeing Simon remove his jacket and crawl over towards you, gently placing a kiss on your forehead.

(unedited)

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley #call of duty #ghost x reader #cod smut #ghost mw2 #call of duty smut #simon riley smut #cod x reader #ghost smut #smut

460 notes · View notes

difficultdomains · 3 months

Text

suguru’s plan was a relaxing movie night - but you definitely had something else in mind…

what do you do when insomnia hits? exactly - make up scenarios with this man in your head (he my muse fr)

mdni - nsfw under the cut

————————————————————————

when it comes to movie nights, suguru and you mean absolute business. you’re doing it all - keeping lists, leaving letterboxd reviews and always preferring something new over a rewatch. once every couple weeks, however, a special rule you agreed upon comes into effect - comfort movies are rewatchable, at any given time and any number of times - no discussions, no veto.

so when he comes back to your apartment, sore and exhausted after a week that probably felt more akin to a month, you wrap yourselves into a blanket and huddle up on the couch with strategically placed snacks and his favourite movie queued on the big living room TV.

you keep sneaking looks at him throughout, intrigued by the way the flickering light dances across the bridge of his nose and his lips, by the way his eyes are fixed on the narrative unfolding in front of him even though you’re sure that he could recite the dialogues backwards if he had to.

you know that the only thing he probably wants right now is to relax. the only thing you want right now? him. so why not combine both?

you start your silent attack by repositioning yourself under the blanket, feigning that the comfortable position you were in has turned into one of discomfort and that the fact that your hand was now resting on his thigh was mere conincidence.

your fingers are subtle but restless and soon they inch closer and closer to the place you plan on conquering, ghosting over it, featherlight, not suspicious at all.

with his eyes still glued to the screen, he smirks knowingly. you turn to him, waiting with a lopsided grin.

you have him exactly where you want him.

“what do you think you’re doing?” taunting you, so sure of himself, so sure he knows what you’re up to. but when he sees the way you’re looking at him, his eyes widen.

before he can even register what’s about to befall him, you have already disappeared under the blanket, sweats pushed down and lips wrapping around the pretty tip of his barely half-hard dick.

he takes in a sharp breath, hissing your name through gritted teeth.

this was one of your favourite things to do, make him get hard just with your mouth. and he was very aware of your little preference, which only made it that much more enticing - and unfair - to him.

he pulls the blanket away, hand tangling in your hair solely to give him a better view of the spectacle in front of him. the sight alone makes him bite back a groan. but when you push down even further and have him hit the back of your throat, he loses complete control of the moan that escapes him and all the other ones that follow while you continue your skillful twirls and licks.

he’s beyond hard at this point, much to your silent satisfaction, and you’re not very suprised when you feel a gentle but firm grip on the back of your neck, pulling you away from him.

he crashes your lips together in a hungry kiss and when he pulls away, catching your chin in a similar grip like before, you can’t escape the intensity of his flared-up irises burning into yours.

“ride me.”

you raise a single perfectly arched eyebrow at him.

“please.”

you quickly find your place on his lap, lips instantly attaching to the flushed skin of his neck.

“hmm if you insist…” is the last thing you manage to hum against his skin before he captures you in another kiss.

mission accomplished.

————————————————————————

this is the first proper smutty thing i’ve ever written - so yay it’s a premiere. anyways i hope your hopefully well rested brain enjoyed this little drabble from my very sleep deprived one (pls excuse any errors - i am simply sending this out into the aether lul)

#noon.drabbles #noon.writes #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk smut #geto smut #geto imagines #geto headcannons

213 notes · View notes

darklydeliciousdesires · 1 month

Text

Animal - A Luca Changretta/Reader One Shot Story.

It's here, besties! :D Hope you like it!

Words - 2,380

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

“I want you, Luca. I want you in every single way a woman can enjoy a man. I want your mouth all over me, your hands to touch every last inch of my flesh, to paint your pleasure across me like I’m a canvas, until every colour in the palette runs into the next. I want you to fuck me until I’ve no voice left, until I’m trembling and gasping for breath, until I’m begging you to stop, but pleading with you to keep going all at once.

I want you to be rough with me, wrap my hair around your fist, fuck me brutally from behind until I gush all over your beautiful, perfect big cock. I want you to turn me over and fucking choke me on it, fuck my mouth until I gag and spit on it, making it wetter before you tell me that I’m you’re dirty little puttana and you love me for it. You know I’ll swallow every goddamned drop when you finally come for me, too.

In short, my darling, I want the kind of sex that would make half the barbarity in the Old Testament look tame. Hurry, lover. I miss you.”

The note fluttered from his grasp, a wide-eyed and very, very hard Luca lost to a sexual daze, the near ever-present toothpick in his mouth dangling from his lower lip. “Is this broad for fuckin’ real?” he whispered, wondering how in the fuck he was even meant to stand up after reading that, let alone put one foot in front of the other and then drive a car without crashing it.

Not only had you told him how heavily your want was stirred for him, you’d told him in the dirtiest, yet most poetic way he’d ever had a message conveyed to him. He isn’t sure he wouldn’t have suffered a heart attack, had you actually whispered those words in person.

He can, however, muster the strength to rise and, with trousers entirely too tight due to the colossal erection your words have left him with, walk somewhat awkwardly to the telephone.

“Is that my insatiable Italian?

“You’d be real embarrassed if it was your mother calling you right now, huh?” he drawls, rolling his toothpick over his lower lip with this tongue.

“But it isn’t, so I’m safe,” you chuckle, “So, how can I help you? I take it you found my reading material?”

“I did,” he confirms, “and how you can help me is getting over here right fuckin’ now. I’ll send a driver.” He hangs up before you can confirm your presence, knowing that just by the sultry tone of his voice, he’s tightly wound, and a tightly wound Luca is never worth missing out on.

After all, watching him unravel is half the fun of doing the tight winding in the first place.

Upon your arrival, you find him reclined on the sofa, long, lean legs spread, a hand rested to his thigh, index finger pointing very deliberately at the giver of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever received.

“You called?”

“And you wrote, didn’t you?” he smirks, looking you up and down. Oh, you’re in trouble now, the absinthe green glint of his eyes conveying a weight that should topple your nerves, yet it only serves to electrify. “Yeah, doll. I’m only surprised the paper didn’t fuckin’ catch fire.”

Lifting your chin, your grin is all self-satisfied accomplishment, knowing that you've stirred the beast in him. It only ever prowls just below the surface, though, awakened at a moment's notice. “So, now I’m here?”

He rises from the sofa, sauntering to you while reaching into his pocket, the press of his thumb releasing the long, sharp blade, the flick knife brandished. “Now the fun begins, baby.” Reaching you, his hand grasps your jaw, fingertips indenting your flesh, the precursor to a slow, sumptuous glide over your anticipation-riddled skin. Clutching your dress, he brings the knife up, slicing into the fabric, his hands grasping to literally tear it open.

The sound runs sharp beneath your skin, sends flint strikes through your blood, the cold of the blade dragged into your cleavage before he cuts your bra from you, your undies next on the path of destruction. Stepping from your shoes, the floorboards beneath your feet feel cool in contrast to the inferno of his stare, Luca casting the knife aside, his long arms snaking around you as he puckers a searing kiss to your sternum, descending slowly as he drops down to kneel before you.

“La mia dea,” he whispers, pressing a kiss upon your pubic mound, hands smoothing down deftly over every rise and fall of your body. “You should know you’re the only woman in the world I’d gladly fall to my knees for.” Lifting your thigh to rest over his shoulder, he runs his tongue up it in a in a languid glide, teeth closing in a sharp bite. “But that don’t mean I’ll fuckin’ go easy on you, though.”

You’d expect nothing less.

Letting the heat of his breath flutter over your sex, he teases you with the promise, tongue touching his top lip momentarily as he leaves you teetering on anticipation. He strikes like a viper, mouth wrapping around your slit and sucking with a hungry grunt, knocking the breath from your lungs. His hands glide down your back, resting on your bum, squeezing the rounded orbs in his big hands as the flat of his tongue seeks the pearl of your clit, beginning to work in a side-to-side beat.

The fever he evokes rises like a summer storm, a swirling tempest of wet dragging against you, his piercing, green stare defying you to look away as your mouth drops open, a shrill cry shattering the silence of the room. Your hands move, one reaching to grip his arm, the other sliding into the silken raven of his hair, grasping, tugging hard as your hips begin to weave against the relentless beat of a very hot, very eager tongue.

He has you clasped hard, but balanced upon one leg you feel precarious already, teetering, the pleasure beginning to throb strongly through your core, a grunting rumble from your lover causing a fierce prickle to jab against your insides. “Yeah, that’s what I wanted, getting to feel this pretty little cunt drip all over my tongue.”

His hands continue to knead at you as his tongue drags down, pushing against your streaming little hole, the hook of his nose rubbing over your clit as he tongue fucks you with aplomb. A hail of pain meets your skin deliciously when he releases his grasp, hitting the round of your bum with a spank so hard, your eyes water. Another and he has you mewling, a third and you’re crying out in rapture, the honey of your cunt flooding his mouth, Luca licking your slow and firm back to your clit, wrapping the throbbing little bud in a hard, unrelenting suck.

Your stance falters, and his hands clench at you, arms tensing as he keeps you upright. He might be skinny and lithe, but lord, he’s deceptively strong. He pulls you against the ferocity of his mouth further, tongue working you harder, meeting your gaze with a wink that sets the sparks in your belly to burn.

The heat of his mouth suffuses through to your very marrow, builds rapidly like a supernova, the black holes of his inked pupils devouring the lush green as he watches you falling apart for him, being remade around the rapid, carnal beat of his tongue. The sensation of it sends tiny arrows darting through you, a mist of heat radiating your spine as you pant, your clutch within his hair and upon his arm tightening as you rock against each lick.

“Fuck, Luca!” The words are torn jagged from your throat, chest heaving as it hits you in ceaseless waves. He groans as you trickle into his mouth, drinking the undoing from you as you cry out, every colour illuminating, throwing your head back and submitting to the never-ending inferno darting over your nerves.

He releases your leg, letting your foot return to the floor, but holds you tight in his grasp, tongue gentling before kissing his way back up your shuddering body as he rises, the taste of your orgasm on his lips making your insides quake. You reach for his waistcoat, nimble fingers hurried in your quest for his nakedness, tie and shirt following, your diligence having him bare before you speedily.

He presses a kiss to your neck, looking down at you with a mix of triumph and amusement. “Can you walk?”

“Probably not,” you confess, watching his eyebrow flutter.

“Fine,” he rumbles, making a circular motion with his long, outstretched forefinger. “Turn around and bend over.” You do as you’re instructed, anticipation ghosting your skin as you feel the heat of him behind you, Luca taking his cock and dragging it in tease over your slippery folds.

Sliding the head down to stroke over your clit, the lust tumbles through him wildly at watching your little hole spasm, pushing into you just enough to widen you, pulling out again and returning his cock to push against your bud.

He did say he wouldn’t go easy on you.

“Please, Luca,” you gasp, feeling him inch in again, no mercy given, leaving you empty once more. His hand weaves into your hair, an olive skinned, tattooed, gold adorned grasp clenching tight, pulling you flush against his chest.

“You said that you wanted me to paint my pleasure across you like you’re a canvas, but baby doll, you know better than anyone I don’t paint within the lines.” His free hand slides up your body, grasping your breast, rolling your nipple in a tight crush between his thumb and forefinger. “Beg me.”

“But...”

“Ah, ah, cara mia,” he reprimands, yanking your hair so hard, the pain sears across your scalp. “Beg.”

“Please, Luca.” Swallowing hard, your nerves buzz at the sensation of his cock sliding back and forth over your clit, keening to feel it fill your gaping hole. “Please fuck me. Please feed me every inch of that gorgeous, big cock. I need it. I need you. Please. I’m begging you.”

He pushes forth once more, a few more inches stretching you out, his cock twitching against your walls before he leaves you bereft once more. “Beg again.”

“Luca, I...”

His hand meets your bum in a ferociously hard slap. “I said beg. Again.”

Fire roars over the frost spiking at every nerve ending in your body, swallowing hard, your teeth crushing a bite upon your lower lip. “I’m begging for your cock, Luca. Please fuck me.”

Again, he sinks back in, but this time you are blessed with every last thick, delicious inch, your walls stroked by hot, veiny hardness, the grasp within your hair released. His hands come to rest upon your hips, pulling back from you, until only the head of him remains. He lets you clench upon him, teasing you wickedly, forcing a primal groan when he fills you again with a sharp thrust.

You expect him to continue in torture, but instead he gives you deliciously teasing alternation, pounding your heat rapidly one minute to slow right down the next. The thick head of his cock drags your wet plush slowly, so very, very slowly, sparks crackling, your heart thundering, his groans making your insides pulse with desire.

It’s so good and he’s so thick and hot within you that you practically sob with pleasure, slow, slow, quick, quicker, slow, agonisingly slow, so quick you feel he’s going to go through you and then back to slow again, until he has you shivering violently before him. He roots himself deep into you, pausing, feeling you flex on him with greed, spanking your already stinging backside before slowly dragging back again, the friction delicious.

He’s iron hard within your molten core, his tease giving way to speed and piledriving your slick with lethal intent, ferociously aroused. Your skin smacks together, his grunts peppering the air, drowning out the soft little cries you emit in response to this, a full-on attack to your insides. You feel as if your legs are about to give way, the timing perfect when he slips out, turning your body to throw you over his shoulder with ease, matching you to the bedroom.

You’re tossed onto the bed like a ragdoll, Luca grasping your ankles and hauling you across the mattress, plunging back into you while holding your legs high and wide, giving you not a single drop of mercy from the carnal, animalistic onslaught he delivers.

Each speedily delivered thrust has you sparking, your walls clenching around the thick heat driving into you rapaciously, his cock pumping your release into you strongly, the waves beautiful as his lightning cracks your sky, your hands gripping the bedclothes beneath. He lets you cool down, slowing within you, enjoying the way your slick muscles feel as they flutter around him.

It takes no time at all for the pace to be set to feral once more, holding your legs against his chest as he licks a circle at your ankle, marking the area he then brands with his teeth, virtually growling with incandescent arousal. His stare is broken by his eyes closing tightly, a string of swears gritted, pulling from your soaking cunt, hauling your shattered body to the edge of the bed.

“Open your fuckin’ mouth.” You do, his cock sliding between your lips, hand fisting tight into your hair and holding the back of your head firmly, hips beginning to pump against your face. “Yeah, that’s it, my dirty little puttana. Fuck, I love you.”

He fucks your mouth like he doesn’t, hard, accerbic with you, making you practically choke on his cock until with a deep, guttural groan, he’s spilling into your throat, hot white swallowed down, just as you told him you would.

“Mmmm,” you purr, after releasing his twitching cock, licking your way up to his neck, the black cross the focal point of your teeth. “If that’s what I get, I’m going to have to write to you more often.”

#luca changretta #luca changretta fanfiction #luca changretta smut #luca changretta x reader #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders smut #luca changretta x you #luca changretta fanfic #luca changretta fic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #adrien brody

148 notes · View notes

lets-just-daydream · 6 months

Note

Hello!! I absolutely love your writing and I love the way you write astarion! I wanted to request an astarion x reader where the reader is a virgin and he pauses before doing anything bc he feels like he’s tainted many peoples firsts when he brought them to cazador and feels like he doesn’t deserve it 🥺

you all are KILLING IT with these requests I'm having so much fun 😭😭😭 and thanks so much, I'm glad you think I write him well!

Finally writing smut for Astarion! Been a while since I've written smut so I hope this doesn't suck. I tried my best to make this gender neutral!

It was the first big thing you'd accomplished in what you felt like would be more work to do before actually getting these stupid tadpoles out of your brains. Since crashing the nautiloid ship it's been full speed ahead with hardly any respite.

You'd come to an agreement between the Druids and Tieflings and the latter had decided they wanted to celebrate. Who were you to say no? You could certainly use an evening to let loose and judging by your rowdy companions dancing and laughing with the Tieflings, they were in need of this, too.

But, you noticed one pale elf missing from the mix of cheery bodies. You looked around until you spotted him in front of his tent, drinking wine and staring across the camp at everyone with a sour look on his face. As he looked around, his eyes met yours and his expression softened, offering you a smile that you couldn't help but return.

Of course you couldn't help it. He was gorgeous and you, foolishly in his mind, latched onto every bit of attention he gave you. It was so easy. A smile here, a well-placed compliment there, some flirting sprinkled in and you had practically fallen for him. Tonight he would begin the next step in his plan - seek you out for a late night tryst and further cement himself into your affections.

As he knew you would, you wandered over to him and struck up a conversation. You had had some drinks and were feeling pleasantly buzzed, enjoying chatting with Astarion, your gaze lingering on his lips and raking over his body, wondering what it would be like to have sex with him. Astarion noticed your clumsy staring and preened internally. This was perfect.

"This party is fine, I suppose," Astarion eventually said. "But I prefer… other forms of entertainment."

You stared at him, a brow raised. "What kind of entertainment?"

Astarion stepped forward and brushed your hair away from your ear, leaning in to whisper. "The more… carnal sort," he whispered, sending a violent shiver down your spine.

"Oh," you breathed. "I-I'm sure you could find someone to…"

You looked around at the camp and then back at Astarion who only offered you a smirk and half-lidded gaze. "I think I already have."

You gulped, your cheeks and body flushing with heat at his implication. He wanted to have sex with you? You didn't think you could say no to his offer but he was clearly experienced. Obviously, with you being the complete opposite. Worried that you would make a fool of yourself if you went through with this, you faltered and opened your mouth to decline his offer when he stepped forward, took your hand and pressed it to his lips.

"Come find me in the woods, later. After everyone has retired for the night," Astarion whispered against your skin before dropping your hand and turning to enter his tent.

After the laughter and drinking had died down and your companions and guests retired for the evening, you sat in front of the fire, fidgeting and biting your lip in anticipation. You'd been stuck in your own mind ever since your conversation with Astarion. You very much desired him and very much wanted to go through with this but you were still nervous.

You looked around at the rest of camp and shivered before joining the rest of the party. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake your conversation with Astarion from your mind. Your companions noted that you were a little scatterbrained or not quite all there. You apologised and chalked it up to the wine you'd all been indulging in.

Fuck it. You had a tadpole on your head, you were on a huge adventure and you could die tomorrow. What could be better than losing your virginity to a super hot vampire?

Now more confident, you strolled into the woods to search for Astarion and get this party rolling. You stepped lightly and you heard a twig breaking as Astarion alerted you to his presence. Turning to look at him, you realised he was shirtless and you couldn't help the way your heart jolted a little. You were really going to do this.

"There you are," Astarion said smoothly. "I've been waiting for you. I almost thought you weren't going to show."

He made a show of a small pout as he stepped closer toward you.

"I'm here now," you said, trying to make sure your voice didn't waver.

"That you are," Astarion replied, finally reaching you and wrapping his arms around you.

He pressed his lips against yours hungrily and you nearly reeled back from the intensity but his hand snaked up the back of your neck and held you in place as he ravaged your lips.

You let out a slight moan and he claimed your lips entirely, sliding his tongue inside to taste every inch of you.

His other hand slid to grip your hip and pull you flush against him. You gulped, feeling his arousal against you and you pulled back, breathing in the night air.

"I've been waiting for this, you know," Astarion said, his fingers delicately brushing against your neck. "Waiting to taste you. Waiting to have you."

"Oh…" You shuddered.

That didn't help to quell the nervousness you felt. You hoped you weren't going to disappoint him, so you put on a brave face and met his smirk with a smile of your own. "I could say the same."

You wrapped your arms around Astarion's neck and he grabbed you and laid you down on the ground. He pulled one of your arms from around him and kissed the inside of your wrist, trailing up your arm as he kept his eyes on your face, drinking in every expression you made. You were already putty in his hands and you couldn't know his devious plan, but it was all working out perfectly.

He shimmied down your body and kissed the slightly exposed skin just above your pants before pulling them down. Your breathing hitched and you tried to keep it together as Astarion removed your clothes and left you lying naked and bare below him. He gave you a smirk as he stood and discarded the rest of his clothes before kneeling above you, softly placing his hand on your neck.

You let out a soft whine as his other hand pumped his length, lining himself up with your entrance.

He gazed at your face as you tried to hide the nervousness on your face, your heart pounding in your chest. He pushed in slowly and you winced at the dull, aching pain. You inhaled a sharp breath as you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Now, now darling," Astarion said smoothly. "Don't go all shy on me."

You opened your eyes and tried to maintain your composure as he pushed in further but you let out a squeal and tears brimmed in your eyes.

At this, Astarion halted his movements and his eyes narrowed at you, trying to connect the dots. At the realisation of what was happening, he slowly pulled out and you let out a soft whine. Partly grateful the pressure had stopped, but partly because it also felt a little bit good.

Astarion stared at you as he sat back on his knees, his hands on his thighs. You could see the gears turning in his head as he frowned.

"Is this your first time?" Astarion asked.

You glanced at the trees beyond him, too embarrassed to make eye contact. But that was all the answer he needed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked. You figured he was angry but he sounded more… sad. Conflicted, even.

"I don't know," you whispered. "I didn't think it was such a big deal."

You didn't want to tell him that the real reason was because you were worried he'd laugh at you. At your inexperience.

Astarion let out a soft sigh before speaking again. "I'm… not the person you want to share this moment with, trust me."

You sat up and shook your head, taking his hand in your own.

"If I didn't want it to be you, I wouldn't be here. I know we haven't known each other long but… I do like you. And I trust you," you said with a soft smile.

You saw his expression falter for a moment, he looked… sad. He paused, deep in thought before his usual smile returned.

"Well, if you're certain you want to continue," Astarion said. "Let me treat you properly."

He leaned forward and you laid on your back again, Astarion hovering above you, his lips barely touching yours.

"Tell me if it gets too much," he whispered against your skin before pressing his lips to yours in a deep, slow kiss. "And tell me if you change your mind."

You wrapped your arms around him and you both froze for a moment when you felt… scars? On his back. You weren't sure and you were about to verbalise your confusion when he buried his face in your neck and gave it a slight nip, distracting you. He then brought his fingers up to your lips and you looked at him confused before he came up for air and simply said. "Suck them."

You opened your mouth and complied with his demand, sucking his fingers until they were properly coated with your saliva. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and stared into your eyes as he lowered them to your entrance, easing them in gently.

"Trust me, I need to do this," he said.

You nodded and your grip on him tightened as you spread your legs slightly, a huff escaping your lips as he worked you open. It felt tight and almost uncomfortable but he scissored his fingers expertly before pumping them in and out of you, earning him a slight moan from you. Astarion watched your face as you relaxed into him, pleased that you seemed to be enjoying this. He stopped after he deemed you were worked open and ready for him.

"Darling," he whispered. "I think you're ready for me."

You looked up at him, wide-eyed and trusting. Almost too trusting. He grimaced slightly and pulled his fingers out of you, inhaling your addictive scent as it lingered in the air. "I want to make sure, this is what you want."

Your brows furrowed and you almost huffed in annoyance. Why did he keep asking? You already told him you wanted this. Was he trying to embarrass you or make you beg? But you couldn't know the internal tug-of-war he was having. How could you when he was so closed off?

You simply nodded but that wasn't enough for him.

"Tell me in no uncertain terms," Astarion breathed.

"Yes, I want this," you said.

Without wasting a moment, Astarion leaned back and gripped his cock between his fingers and navigated to your waiting hole. He pressed the tip into you and your breath hitched, watching Astarion's face as he stared down at where your bodies joined.

He pressed in further and your body practically sucked him in, a shaky breath escaping lips. Gods, you were tight. He may even actually enjoy this more than he thought. He thrusted in and out, letting you get used to the sensation before finally pushing all the way in, bottoming out. When his hips finally met yours, you felt filled. You felt like your body was finally making way for the pleasure and you called out Astarion's name, his eyes snapping to you before he leaned down over you and pulled out before thrusting in again.

You let out a moan and he did it again, your body moving against the ground as he fucked you, your walls fluttering around him as he slammed his hips into yours, forcing the sweetest gasps and sounds from you.

It felt good, amazing even and you couldn't keep your eyes off of Astarion. You curled one hand into his hair and one gripped his shoulder. You looked into his eyes, to see if he was enjoying this as much as you were but when you looked into his eyes, something seemed… off.

You furrowed your brow, concerned. Astarion noticed the shift in your body and his gaze snapped to yours with a smirk as he reached down to play with you. You let out a surprised gasp, not expecting the feeling of pure ecstasy to grasp your body. He continued to fuck you as he rubbed and lavished attention on you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as his thrusts became harder.

"Astarion," you cried out as you moved your hips in time to chase your own release.

"Yes, yes…" Astarion groaned into your neck.

He let out a cry of your name as your soft walls squeezed around him, spasming as you raked your nails down his back. You moaned out his name in a prayer, your voice fading to nothing as you felt the most intense orgasm of your life rip through you. Every nerve was alight and Astarion thrust into you a final time, his body finally slowing to a halt as he collapsed atop you, his breathing labored.

You laid there on your back, your legs twitching slightly and your entrance felt wet and slightly sore. But you were satisfied nonetheless and you couldn't help raising your hand and running your fingers through Astarion's curls.

"That was amazing," you breathed. "I… didn't know I could feel like that."

You felt Astarion shift above you and he pulled out of you, his cum oozing out of you. He offered you his trademark smile and dropped beside you on the ground.

"I'm happy I could make you feel that way."

The conversation reached a lull and you looked back up at the sky, the moon and stars out, lighting the forest around you. You looked over at Astarion and he looked gorgeous being bathed by the moon. You could see yourself falling for him. You hoped he might feel the same too, but you couldn't know that that was not his intention with you.

Beside you, Astarion closed his eyes and tried to keep his thoughts at bay. He just did that. With you. You who were so pure, so trusting and willing with him. You genuinely liked him and he used it to his advantage. He felt… Shame? Disgust? He felt like he didn't deserve you. But he did what he had to to cement himself in your good graces and to secure his safety. It was nothing personal, of course.

#red writes #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction

261 notes · View notes

matixv · 1 year

Text

Domme Wanda Maximoff x Sub girl reader

Summary: Wanda isn’t used to her powers, she is still learning how to use them. Her lack of knowledge leads her to make more victims than expected, forcing the avenger team to leave her at home on their next mission. All the News on television are calling her a Monster, someone dangerous, not to be trusted. Once at home, Wanda uses you as a way to take the anger off and shows you how much of a Monster she can be. You aren’t used to seeing her going so rough on you, but in some ways, you like it, and not only a little.

Warnings: smut, kinda dark Wanda, kinda cnc but still safe?, pain, anal sex, strap ons, spanking, belt spankings, spitting, hair pulling, worshipping, aftercare, Wanda is mad at the world, bdsm, restraints, big strap on, mention of blood, scratching, degrading names, pain play, praise.

Words: 3.3 k

Ok! So this was a request, and I hope I satisfied what you were looking for. I couldn’t write REALLY dark Wanda just because I want to keep my page safe for littles or really sensitive subs, but I still tried my best.

————————————————————————————

You comfortably sat on the couch, the tv sharing loud and annoying information about useless things you didn’t even care about. You were waiting for news about Wanda and the other Avengers, news about their accomplished mission without any victim, news about another city being saved by your wonderful girlfriend. She had warned you about the possibility of not hearing about her for days, even weeks, but you trusted her to keep you up to date about the occurring events.

You melted into the cozy red couch you and Wanda chose back then, when you bought your first house together. Red was your color: the furniture was mostly red, Wanda’s powers were red, your safe word was red. You soon discovered that a normal relationship wasn’t suited for the both of you, you wanted more, a dynamic possibly? A Dom/Sub one. It didn’t take long to discover who was who, you submitted to her since the first day.

As you were thinking about the past, Wanda’s name appeared on the huge screen, but not in the way you were expecting. The reporter had a deadly serious face, not a inch of positivity in his facial expression: “Avenger Wanda Maximoff wasn’t more than a obstacle to the dream team! The Scarlett Witch killed an entire building of innocent people trying to defeat the enemy with her powers. Her teammates immediately jumped into action, leading her away from the scene before her powers could get out of control. Luckily many of the people were saved, but we are not expecting to see the red head any time soon, as the Avengers decided to bench her”

The cup of tea you were holding crashed onto the floor, tea spilling everywhere on your carpet. You couldn’t believe that; you were sure Wanda was more than capable to control her powers, to use them for good. Something must have happened. You slowly got up, cleaning the mess you made, waiting for anything: a text, a phone call… anything.

As you knelt on the cold floor, your phone rang. It was Natasha. Why was she calling you? Did something happened to Wanda? You knew how easily your girlfriend could slip into a dark headspace, a bothered one, where flashbacks and Memories tried to eat her alive. You definitely couldn’t control or read her mind, but it wasn’t hard to understand, she was an open book for you.

“Nat? Hey, is everything okay? Please tell me she is fine! Is she hurt anywhere? Do you need any help? Because you know I can be there in a few hours, I don’t even need the Jet, I just need to pack a bag and-“ you started venting before she could talk.

“Y/n, she is fine, she is driving home to you”.

“Oh”. You froze on your spot, giving yourself time to take in what she just said. Wanda usually gave herself a few days after her Missions to recover from the stress and the tiredness the use of her powers led to. She would spend those days in the Avengers cave, in her room. “Are you sure she is okay? She… she never comes home right after her missions, it isn’t something she would normally do. D-Did you check on her before she started driving?”

“She looked fine, she just wanted to be home with you. I bet she wants your comfort” Natasha smiled on the other side of the phone. No, you thought, she didn’t want your comfort. You were just a way to seek comfort. Natasha and Clint were the only two people to know about your dynamic, but it was still a sore spot for them. “Please, be safe, and don’t hesitate to call back”

“Yes, Nat. Thank you for everything” you thanked her ending the phone call.

Wanda would be here soon, and you had no idea how to prepare for her arrival. Once she walked through the door, she used to hug you and hold you tight, but what would happen if she didn't? What would have happened if she needed anything else?

You decided not to overthink and went to tale a hot shower, the water pouring on your head, you melting under the soft jet. You instantly felt relaxed, your muscles loosened, your mind felt almost empty from anxiety. If Wanda needed something, you were there to give her what she wanted.

You took your time, washing your hair throughly. You shaved and covered your body in lotion, carefully massaging your legs and arms. Once out of the shower, you dried your hair and wore some comfortable clothes: a black crop top, a pair of grey sweatpants and some cozy home underwear. You weren't there to impress anyone after all.

As you peered into the kitchen, you noticed a faint noise of someone moving things around, but no one was standing there. You walked into the room and saw the reason of the noise: Wanda was sat at the table, moving things around with her powers. From the table to the living room, from the living room to the library, from the library to the counters, and from the counters to the table again.

You tried to catch the book she was controlling, but the item was moving too fast. You touched it with the pad of your fingers, breaking Wanda's hex and making the book fall on the floor. You searched for her eyes. Red.

"Hands behind your back!" She yelled, getting up from her chair. You immediately assumed the position, without her having to tell you twice. "See, that's what happens when people ruin everything, when people don't trust my powers". She walked up to you, her face only a couple inches away from yours. Suddenly, you felt her hand gripping the back of your neck and forcing you to look down at the book.

Her hand was obviously leaving a mark on your skin, it burned and her nails were deeply scratching your scalp. "I-I'm sorry, Wanda" you apologized, taken aback at the roughness of her actions. "It won't happen again"

"Address me properly, you fucking useless slut" she hissed leaning closer to your ear, her red aurea making you fall deeply in your sub space. "Try again" she ordered.

"I'm sorry Mistress, it won't happen again". With that, she released the back of your neck, making you fall on the ground on your knees. You looked up at her, searching for a little compassion in her piercing scarlet eyes, finding nothing more than her will to prove herself that she was indeed a monster, a sinful one.

You perfectly knew what her lustful glance was asking for, she was ready for you to praise her for her work, to appreciate her for whatever reason could come up to mind. You slowly crawled near her legs, leaning into them and hugging her from your place on the floor.

Her face softened, giving you a hint or sweetness. Her hand slowly rested on your previously abused scalp, moving your hair delicately, giving you the opportunity to rest and breathe. Your Wanda was home with you, and it didn't matter if she wanted to be a Monster or herself.

"Praise me, tell me I'm a monster" she whispered.

You clung more to her legs, taking in the scent of her skin. "Mistress, I'm so proud of you for her work, you did amazing. You showed yourself for who you are, for the monster you are, it was wonderful to watch even from home. Your powers are the strongest ones, the Avengers wouldn't have done it without you and your wizardry"

Her hand subtly grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking them backwards until your mouth was forced open, eyes fixed on the ceiling. She lowered until her mouth was just in front of yours, and spitted in it, yanking your hair forward once you swallowed obediently. "On your feet, bend over the table". She was pretending to be a monster, but the helping hand she gave you to stand up said otherwise.

"Y-Yes Mistress, thank you" You whimpered, bending over the table as quickly as you could, not wanting her to wait any longer. You heard some familiar clicking, it was unmistakable, it was her belt. You tried to stay still, not wanting to make the things worst, but it was not enough.

"Stop squirming!" She yelled. You felt the sound of the leather item on your sweatpants before you even felt the stinging pain that came with it. "Control your fucking body or I'll do it for you, and trust me, it won't be pleasant"

"Yes Mistress"

When she said she would have controlled your body, she didn’t mean tying you down or handcuffing you, that was too easy for Wanda. She meant using her powers to force your hands behind your back or behind your head, forcing your legs open so you couldn’t close them.

You decided to obey before any similar thought crossed her mind. Your palms were touching the cold wooden table, your nipples were poking through your shirt and your eyes were concentrated on what was in front of you.

“Ouch” you whispered, laying your forehead on the cool surface as you felt another stinging swat coming down on your rear. Another one hit you and another one again.

You felt her mumble something to herself while she was abusing your backside with her belt: “they want to see the monster uh? They will see the monster then. That’s what happens when you try to help! You think the other Avengers haven’t killed anyone during their careers? Natasha was literally a trained assassin! For fuck sakes”

Each word was interrupted by the belt landing on your bottom, with you trying not to cry at the pain.

After a minute of pause, you thought it was over, but you were wrong. She grabbed you by your hair, pushing you throughout the house. Your eyes were blurred by the tears and you just let her guide you to the place she wanted you the most: your bed. When she released the grip she had on you, you immediately fell on the soft mattress, a great contrast to the hard table you were bent on.

She was looking at you expectantly from above, her eyes glancing between your neck and your face. “You look so pathetic, as everyone else” she almost barked. “And to think that I came home for you. You are good only at being used, at being my toy, a fucking object”

“You are a Monster, Wanda” you whispered.

Her glance turned from hate to rage. You didn’t even notice her raised hand before it made contact with your right cheek, sending you pain through your nerves. You didn’t have time to recover that she was already ripping your clothes from your body, until you laid naked on the bed.

“How dare you?” She whispered, leaning over your body to reach your ear. “The audacity, the disrespect, after everything I’ve done for you?”

She roughly kissed your lips, biting your lower lip with her teeth. Grabbing your chin with her hand, she tilted your head to the side to have better access to your neck, biting and sucking your pulse point quickly after. “Mistress, please, I need more, I need you” you pleaded.

You glanced at her when she was removing her clothes, her red jacket and her black jeans quickly landed on the floor, and now she was standing just in her bra and panties, giving full dominant vibes.

“That’s right, you need me, everyone needs me”

Her movements were quick and planned, maybe she thought about doing this since the mission was over?

As you laid on the bed, her knee reached in between your legs, sending shivers down your spine. You tried to grind on her to get more pleasure, but the result was far away from your plans. You felt something around your hands, but it wasn’t physical: her powers were forcing you still on the bed, you had no control on your body anymore.

“No, No, please Mistress, I beg you”

All your attempts to convince her to give you what you needed had been in vain, Wanda was not doing it for your pleasure, but for her own. While one of her hands was focused on holding you down, the other was traveling lower and lower on your body. First she took a nipple of yours between her fingers, squeezing it until it left a purple mark around the areola, then she headed towards your pussy, where instead she immediately reached your clitoris, slapping it violently.

“Miss!” You yelled, snapping your head up from the bed.

The one in front of you wasn’t your usual Wanda, it was like a real monster had taken over her empathy. Yes, you both liked to cause and receive pain, but this was another kind of scene. She liked the idea of causing you pain so you wouldn’t enjoy it, just for the pleasure of seeing you suffer. It was like being in bed with Scarlet Witch, the one who had everything taken from her and had nothing but pain.

Furthermore, she didn’t let you touch her, and it was really odd from Wanda, she loved your touch.

Suddenly you felt your hands become freer, almost light. You realized that Wanda had freed you from her powers. But before you could move, your body was picked up and turned around, so that you were on all fours. With your eyes you noticed the last drawer of the bedside table opening, and the strap with attached the biggest dildo of your property attached. Your eyes sparkled at that promise, soon Wanda would have taken you the way you craved the most.

Despite her rush, she took her time with your cunt. You felt two fingers deep into your pussy, angled towards your g point. “Fuck!” You screamed at the sudden intrusion.

“As much as I would have liked to split you in half with my strap, I’m good enough to use my fingers beforehand” she added, spanking your ass with the other hand.

When she removed her fingers, your hands squeezed the comforter that covered the bed, and after a second, you were penetrated by the strap. The dildo was huge, everything was burning and you felt like your body couldn’t stand such an intrusion. "I can’t do it Miss, it’s too big, it’ll split me in two"

She laughed at your cries, only pounding harder into your aching pussy. She leaned forward after a particular hard thrust, and scratched your back with her nails, almost brining your skin to bleed. “If you think THIS will break you in half, just wait for what’s coming after”

Everything was amplifying: your screams, her grunts of pleasure, the wet sound of the strap that came in and out violently. You were being catapulted into a world where all you could feel was what was happening from your waist down. “Miss please, let me cum” You cried, fisting the sheets harder as your knuckles almost turned white.

“Cum, give me what’s mine!” She ordered. And you did as she said, your orgasm came crashing and you couldn’t do nothing more than scream and cry. “That’s it, you are my cum slut, that’s what you are good for!”

Your body fell weak on the bed, your cheeks wet with your tears. She almost collapsed on you, but avoided the crash by holding herself up with her hands. Her breathing was fast, her hair messy and her forehead sweaty. Her voice was guttural, coming from the back of her throat. “Am I a monster?” She asked, never meeting your eyes.

You just nodded, turning your head so your forehead could rest on the softness. If I agree, she would be satisfied, you thought. But you were wrong.

“Maybe I wasn’t hard enough to you? Yeah, you need something more, don’t you?”

When she turned you to lay on your stomach again, you were just preparing yourself for another round. It wouldn’t have been the first time you came more than once in one session, the contrary would have been unusual.

But it only took you a few seconds and a excruciating pain to realize that her plans were very different. Wanda would never do something like that without telling you, right? She would have prepared you carefully, and she would have made the event a special occasion to get even closer and bond with you . Your hopes faded when the pain reached the rest of your body, making you realize what was happening.

Your girlfriend, your beautiful, red-haired, blue-eyed girlfriend, had just penetrated your butthole.

You never talked about anal sex, you haven’t even tried with anyone of your past lovers. It was such an intimate place and you didn’t trust anyone with it; but you trusted Wanda, it just wasn’t the way you expected your first time to be.

“WANDA!” You screamed. “OUT! NOW!”

When you felt your stretched hole being empty again, you let out a relieved cry, feeling the pain spreading around your legs and stomach. You just brought your legs to your chest, sobbing loudly into your knees. “You are a Monster” you cried, hoping you satisfied her enough.

She unbuckled her strap, making it fall to the ground. Her expression was numb, it was like she wasn’t feeling anything at all.

You ignored her as she walked inside your bathroom, hearing the water of the shower hitting the floor. She was getting a shower and washing the day off of her. You were glad she decided to let you by yourself after what just happened, you needed your time to understand.

Your head was making you overthink your entire relationship. Was she the right woman for you? Was she the domme you chose at the beginning of your story? Were you enough to satisfy her needs? Maybe she need a stronger woman like Nat or Yelena to be happy. Now you were just waiting for her to lecture and leave you.

As you heard the bathroom door opening, you hid your head in your pillow, hoping for everything to end soon.

You felt a fresh cloth touching your skin, a delicate sensation, almost frightened by physical contact. When you opened your eyes, Wanda’s silhouette was kneeling beside the bed, and she was cleaning you of the sweat and blood on your body. Her eyes were glossy, her lips chewed.

When she stood up, you flinched back, but her expression at your scared frame, was beyond sorrowful. “I’m sorry” she whispered, sitting next to you. She carefully cleaned your most intimate areas, but it only resulted in you hissing and scrunching in pain at any attempt or reaching your backside or your pussy. “Shh, it’s okay, everything will be okay” Wanda kept speaking softly, giving you the time to relax.

“I’m sorry for your mission” you cried, reaching for her hand. You needed soft physical contact, you missed her.

“It’s okay, I was mad at myself and… at the world, but now I’m not mad anymore. My heart was hurting because I wanted to be helpful and save people, but I only made a mess and now tue world hates me”. That almost made you cry, her poor eyes glistening under the sunlight were a evident proof of her pain.

“Lay next to me”. Your hand reached for her chin, tilting it up so you could look into her eyes, her beautiful and sweet eyes. “You need to rest, we both need to rest”

She silently agreed, lying next to you and hugging you tightly, like if she was afraid you would disappear at any point. “I won’t go away, Wanda, I’m here” you whispered.

“I’m sorry, stay, please”

“I will, rest now”

#bd/sm mommy #domme mommy #wanda x you #wanda smut #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #bd/sm kink #spankable bottom #bd/sm domme #painful #spitting #strappon

728 notes · View notes

topguncortez · 1 year

Text

What to Expect | Chapter 13

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: The Seresins decide to come to dinner. Jake not only stands up for himself, but for you and his unborn daughter.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: pregnancy, cursing, canon character death, injuries, topgun shit, fighting, questions of paternity, unrequited love and some yearning

No matter how old you got, family dinners always had some ounce of awkwardness to them. Especially when both you and Jake’s families got together. It wasn’t that Margaret and George didn’t get along with your parents, it was that they acted like they were better than them. Your father and George were both very accomplished men, in two different ways. George was a successful businessman, coming from a long line of oil barons in Texas. He was also a big shot donor to the University of Texas, and even had a press box with his name on the door.

The first time you had ever met Margaret and George was at a Texas Longhorns game. Jake had brought you back to Texas for homecoming weekend. You hadn’t ever been big into sports, the college you went to wasn’t very big into football, but you had participated a couple times in the Saturday game day festivities. But like they said, ‘everything is bigger in Texas’.

You stuck out like a sore thumb compared to Jake and his family. For one, you didn’t have anything burnt orange, so you settled on wearing light wash jeans and a white t-shirt. Your skin had a natural tan to it from living in a place where the sun was out almost every day of the year, and it didn’t look orange like some of the women walking around. You also opted to wear your hair in a ponytail, and not teased to the high Heavens. Jake explained that his sisters, and mother were both alumni baton twirlers who had all married alumni football players, so homecoming was a big deal.

You had never once felt comfortable or at home around the Seresins. Jake had tried his hardest whenever he brought you around them. But his parents were always so cold towards you. They hardly welcomed you into the family like they had done with his sisters' spouses. He wasn’t sure if it was because you didn’t come from some wealthy family in Texas, or because you had a very strong personality. But that’s what Jake loved about you. He loved that you were different from every girl he went to highschool with. He loved that you had more ambition than to just be some housewife that waits on him hand and foot.

After his parents basically crashed the baby shower, Sarah decided to deescalate the situation by inviting Margaret and George to dinner. Jake was seething with anger at his parents entrance, they never could walk into a room without causing all the attention to go to them. You were thankful that your mom had a heart of gold and knew exactly what to do, cause you were ready to go run and hide in the bathroom.

“Do we really have to do this?” Jake asked, as he parked in your parents driveway. He had spent the afternoon helping you put baby shower gifts away, and shit talking about his parents.

“Yes, we do,” Bradley said from the backseat of Jake’s truck. You looked over your shoulder at him, “Well. . . you two do. I’m only here because your mom said she’s making pork ribs.”

You giggled, leave it to Rooster to be the comedic relief that everyone needed, “Buckles is right, we have to do this. It’s bad enough we’ve waited until I am literally about to pop.”

“What if they send you into preterm labor?”

“Oh my god, what if they do!?” Jake asked, “We don’t even know if the car seat is secure! I let Fanboy install it.”

“Okay, calm down. You’re making me, the pregnant woman, start to panic and that’s not good,” You said, trying to ease Jake’s nerves, “And they won’t send me into preterm labor. I am fine, we are all fine. We aren’t teenagers sneaking behind our parents back and raw dogging in the back of your truck after Friday night football games. We are adults. We can do this.”

“Speak for yourself,” Rooster rolled his eyes and you shot him a glare which he gave you a smile in return, “Let’s go in!”

Jake let out a breath, and got out of the truck, jogging around to the otherside to help you out of the truck. In the past week or so since Jake has been back, you have found it to be harder and harder to get in and out of Jake’s truck. Jake fixed his shirt and hair as he rang the doorbell to your parents house.

“Jacob, sister, Buckles,” Stephanie said as she answered the door, “Come in!”

“Nice to see you too,” Rooster said and kissed Stephanie’s cheek as he walked in.

“I see that Y/N brought Jake and my unborn niece,” Dylan Kazansky said walking into the entryway, “And what did you bring Bradshaw?”

“Beer,” Bradley said, holding up the six pack that Jake actually bought but he didn’t want to create a bad image of drinking when his heavily pregnant baby momma couldn’t.

“Your parents are insufferable,” Gia added as she joined the conversation, “I thought Y/N had no personality, but your parents are the personification of watching paint dry.”

“You haven’t changed at all,” Bradley rolled his eyes. Bradley and Jake both dislike Gia as much as you did, but they kept the disdain a little better underwraps than you did.

Gia watched as Bradley walked by going towards the kitchen before following after him. You and Jake stood in the entryway by yourselves, Jake trying to talk himself up before going to face his and your parents.

No matter how old Jake got, he would always be somewhat afraid of his father. Even after facing death several times, and constantly flying in a metal death trap, George Seresin was not someone you wanted to be on the bad side of. He was smart, and sneaky which kept him in such good business. He knew how to work the playing field and install fear into those around him. Margaret wouldn’t have her own two feet to stand on if it wasn’t for George constantly being behind her. You always wondered how their children turned out to be some of the kindest people you ever met.

“Hey, we can leave anytime you want. We kind of have a built in excuse for the next couple years,” You pointed to your belly and Jake smiled.

“I’ll be fine,” Jake sighed and touched your belly, “I need to get over it. How can I be a good father if I can’t even face my own?”

You frowned and opened your mouth to say something, but Jake just shook his head and grabbed your hand, guiding you towards the dinning room where everyone was gathered. He took a deep breath as he pushed the door open and was met with the sight of his parents standing at one end, basically talking amongst themselves while everyone was gathered at the other, engaging in another conversation. Jake rolled his eyes at his parents' behavior and walked over to where your family was.

“Jake, glad you’re here,” Ice said and shook his son-in-law’s hand, “Bug,” He kissed your cheek, “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” You said, “Very, very tired. Can we eat?”

“Go engage with your in-laws first,” Ice nodded over towards Jake’s parents. Leave it to your dad to try and promote good hostmanship in the two of you. Jake clenched his jaw and put his hand on the small of your back.

“George, Margaret, it’s nice to see you,” You said and stuck your hand out for them to shake. Margaret’s hands were dainty and always cold, and her handshake was weak, it always made you uncomfortable having to shake her hand. George’s handshake was one he had perfected from years in sales, it was strong as a way for him to assert power.

“I apologize we didn’t have much time to talk after the shower. I was so exhausted from the-”

“I had three children, I know what it is like,” Margaret said and took a sip of her martini. You fought the urge to roll your eyes cause you weren’t quite sure if Margaret really knew what it was like. Of course she did birth all three Seresin kids, but she passed them off quickly to a revolving door of nannies and caretakers. Jake said he can’t remember his mother hugging him before the age of ten.

“Sorry,” You answered, “Thank you for the shower gift.”

“If we had known about. . . it,” Margaret looked down at your bump, “Sooner, we could’ve gotten you something better. I guess a gift card would have to do.”

“Our daughter doesn’t need a Chanel purse or a Versace onesie,” Jake rolled his eyes knowing that was probably something his mother would get. Margaret was always buying lavish gifts with her husband’s credit card. Both Annie and Charlotte had Chanel diaper bags. You were quite happy with the one that you had gotten from Target at your baby shower.

Sarah could sense the tension from across the room, watching as you fisted the sides of your dress in your hands, and Jake shifted his weight from foot to foot. She had only met Jake’s parents a couple of times, once when Jake graduated from TopGun and again when their daughter Charlotte graduated from medical school. Sarah was always nice to Margaret and George, offering them a place to stay in their guest house, and offering to have dinner for Charlotte at the main house. Though both times Margaret and George never responded to Sarah’s invite, they still showed up at the front door. Sarah knew she had to break up the conversation between Mr and Mrs Seresin before either you or Jake threw a drink in someone's face.

“Everybody!” Sarah said, moving away from her husband, “Dinner is ready! Please, take your seats.” Ice smiled at his wife, and kissed her cheek before moving to his spot at the head of the table. Jake grabbed your hand and led you to your spot, pushing your chair in, before taking his usual seat at the end.

“Jacob, what are you doing?” George asked his son, looking at him confused.

“That’s his-”

“Shush,” George said, cutting Gia off. She raised her eyebrows in surprise and then looked at you. You just shrugged and watched as Jake hung his head in defeat, moving away from the chair to sit in the empty chair on your right side.

Ice clenched his jaw as Dominic, the family cook, brought out the plates of food. For as long as Jake has been in this family, he has always sat at the other end of the table, and no one seemed to argue about it. In fact, it was Iceman who placed him there on the very first family dinner he had ever had with the whole Kazansky family. Ice wanted to say something, but he withheld, knowing it would just make things worse for you and Jake. Ice never cared for Jake’s parents. They had always acted like they were better than him, that George was more of an accomplished man than he was. Ice never liked to brag about his accomplishments (unless your name was Pete Mitchell) so he had listened and let George ridicule his awards and medals that hung around the study.

Dinner was awkwardly quiet as everyone ate. Your appetite was nearly diminished which you weren’t sure if it was because of the tension or because you just felt so full all of the time. You didn’t think anyone noticed the way you pushed around the greens and potatoes on your plate, but ever the eagle eyed George Seresin did.

“Don’t you need to eat for the baby?” He asked.

“By the looks of her, I’d say she’s eaten enough,” Margaret mumbled, sipping her drink. Gia huffed and pushed back in her chair a bit. You knew she was wanting to say something but you shot her a look.

“I am just not very hungry tonight,” You said softly, “I’ve been having a lot of heartburn lately and it kind of shuts my appetite down.”

“I never had that with my children,” Margaret said.

“I had it with mine,” Sarah answered. You were so thankful for your mother, you weren’t sure if you would be able to get through this without her.

“Doesn’t heartburn mean the baby is gonna have more hair?” Dylan asked and Stephanie looked at him weird, “What?! Mom said all of us had full heads of hair, and Jake has great hair, so I’m guessing Baby K will too.”

“Baby K?” George asked, looking at his son.

“Kazansky,” You answered, “We both decided that the baby’s last name will be Kazansky, since we aren’t married.”

“Bullshit,” George cursed and Ice clenched his jaw, giving him a death glare, “Once you two get the results of the paternity test, you need to get legally married so the baby’s last name will be Seresin.”

“One, we are not doing a paternity test and two, the baby’s last name is Kazansky. Already talked about,” Jake said, shifting in his seat to face his father. George’s green eyes bore into his sons, trying to give him that same look that used to send a young Jake Seresin cowering into the corner. You grabbed Jake’s hand, seeing them start to shake. He glanced at you quickly and you squeezed his hand reassuring him that everything was okay.

“This is what she has you believing? That the bastard child is-”

“Okay,” Gia said, slamming her hands on the table with enough force to send dishes clattering, and standing up to stare George down.

“Gianna,” You warned and Stephanie shook her head. When Gia was mad she was like a freight train down a hill, you couldn’t stop her, but you could move out of the way quickly enough to save yourself.

“I don’t know what your deal is, but you’re acting like assholes,” Margaret gasped at Gia’s cursing, “Your son is doing the right thing, and he has since he found out about the little crotch goblin. Most men his age and with his occupation would’ve run for the hills if an ex showed up at his doorstep saying she was pregnant with his baby. But Jake hasn’t run, and believe me, he’s had enough ammunition to pack his bags and leave,” Bradley looked down at the piece of chicken on his plate, “So what the Baby’s last name is gonna be Kazansky, that sure means hell of a lot more than Seresin-”

“Little girl, watch your-”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you,” Now your father was standing, staring George down, “I have watched for years as you have belittled not only my daughter but your own son in front of my eyes, and it ends now. He is a good man, and he wants to do right by both of them. Trust me, I am not a fan of my unwed daughter having a baby either, but there is nothing I can do but be there to support her. And as for your son. . . well it’s a damn shame the way you treat him. I am amazed that such a good, caring man can come from two evil people like you.”

Jake fought back tears as he turned to face his father-in-law. Jake had always thought that Iceman didn’t like him. That he was just another pilot walking through the front doors of TopGun, going to be there for thirteen weeks and then gone. But over the years, Tom has shown Jake nothing but compassion and kindness. Jake knew the type of dad he wanted to be like, and he wanted to be like Iceman. Ice gave Jake a nod before sitting back down in his chair.

“Are you going to fucking cry?” George cursed at his son. Jake sniffled and wiped a tear from under his eye.

“Yeah, I am,” Jake said and looked at his father, “I cry, Dad. I cry a lot actually. And I don’t care if that makes me soft, if that makes me look weak. Because I am weak, but I’m also strong enough to stand up for my family and to tell you both to get the hell out.”

“Jacob,” Margaret said, finally speaking up, “Don’t do this-”

“You two will never get to know your granddaughter. And it doesn’t matter if her name is Kazansky or Seresin, or fucking Bradshaw for all I care. . . I love her and she’s mine. And you two,” Jake pointed at his parents, “Do not know the first thing about loving someone other than yourselves. So please, leave my father-in-law's house.”

George clenched his jaw, and looked around the table. Margaret had tears in her eyes as she watched her son stand up for himself and the woman he loved. You looked at Jake with nothing but more adoration in your eyes, and he looked over at you with the same look. George scoffed and wiped his face before throwing his napkin down on the plate. His chair scraped back as he stood up, and then grabbed Margaret up from her chair. The last thing Jake saw of his mother was the tears in her eyes and George pulled her out of the house. When the door slammed shut, it was like everyone let out a collective breath.

“Holy fuck,” You said, “I need a drink.” Everyone laughed and agreed with you.

“How about I start serving up dessert?” Sarah said, getting up her seat, “And we move this into the living room.” Everyone agreed, and slowly they got up from their chairs.

When you and Jake were the only two left in the dining room, you grabbed his hand and placed it on your belly. He looked up at you, his green eyes wet with tears.

“Oh honey,” You said and moved to sit in Jake’s lap, wrapping your arms around him as he cried, “It’s okay. I promise, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Jake said, pulling away from you a bit. He wiped under his eyes and put his hand on your belly, “Nothing about what happened is even remotely okay. They called our daughter a bastard.”

“I’m not saying that part was okay,” You sighed, and ran your fingers through his blonde hair, “I’m saying that them leaving is probably a good thing. I don’t know about you but I don’t want someone like that in our lives, let alone our daughter’s life.”

“I don’t either,” Jake said, and looked up into your eyes. You two held eye contact for a moment, before you leaned in and kissed him. Jake sighed into the kiss, pulling your body even closer to his. You ran your hands through his hair, pulling on the perfect blonde locks, licking his bottom lip. The kiss turned passionate quickly, the two of your mouths moving against each other with no flaw.

“Jake,” You whispered as his lips moved from yours to your jaw and down to your neck, “As much as I love this, we can’t do this here.” You gently pushed him away and for a second you saw the hurt flash in his eyes, but you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, “Take me home.”

He nodded, and patted your thigh so you would stand up from his lap. Jake adjusted himself in his pants before taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen where your family was at. Bradley was telling some enthusiastic story with Dylan and Ice which had the whole Kazansky family laughing, even Gia. A smile graced your lips as Jake wrapped an arm around you.

This was the family you wanted around your baby.

taglist: @materialgirl01 @cherrycola27 @love2write2626 @averyhotchner @xoxabs88xox @nagygreta @bioodforbiood @violyn20 @abaker74 @misshoneypaper @callsign-joyride @auroraboreallisfine @thedroneranger @rosewritesitout @nobody7102 @bradleybeachbabe @wildxwidow @cm27078 @caitsymichelle13 @whisperofsong @bonitanightmxres @maverooster @mizzzpink @khaylin27 @shawnsblue @shelbycillian @sexualparkour @thenewdaysalreadyhere @fandom-princess-forevermore @double-j @momc95 @buxkybarnez @paige-alexandra-may @coffeebooksandfandom @86laura11 @some-lovely-day @ohemgeewhat @itsmytimetoodream @emmaelix @springholland @atarmychick007 @okiegirl24 @i3k2ts @gassyandsassy1 @happierbelle @celestialeviereads @kandierteveilchen

543 notes · View notes

goosewriting · 1 year

Text

Purpose

summary: after being shot by Pryde, Hux wakes up in an unfamiliar place.

relationship: General Hux x GN reader

warnings: mention of injury, a lil angsty, fluff, fix-it fic

word count: 1.5k

A/N: the doc i wrote this in is literally called “hux survives, i have spoken”, and i think that sums it up really well lol ((also i know that's not hux in the gif but when i saw it i literally went 😳 so i had to use it))

prompt used: All of your failures, your accomplishments, your success, your emotions, your body. Every bit of you. I accept and love them all. (source, by @/incorrectprompts)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

“Get me the Supreme Leader.”

That’s the last thing Hux heard after being launched back several metres from the blaster impact.

“Tell him we found our spy,” Allegiant General Pryde finished in a self-satisfactory tone, giving the blaster back to the trooper next to him.

— — —

Hux wakes up with a gasp.

The sudden intake of air burns through his lungs, like he hadn’t breathed in years. He can tell he’s lying on a cushioned surface, but is still too weak to sit up and check his surroundings.

Blinking away the pain and dryness in his eyes, they adapt to the light in the room. The ceiling above him is wooden, as are the walls. Hux looks to his right, where he spots a door on the far wall. Closer to him there’s several beeping and blinking control panels, with multiple cables and tubes emerging from the machinery.

Slowly turning his head to the left, he sees a big desk with papers and different medical instruments. A med droid stands in front of it with its back to him, too busy doing whatever med droids do while the patient is unconscious.

Hux concludes that he's probably in a cabin, given how rustic the construction looks. And now that the grogginess melted away, he can feel the waves of pain starting to crash onto him.

His chest hurts.

His legs hurt. Especially his left thigh.

He’s pretty sure his pride hurts too, even though he can’t exactly recall what happened and how he got here.

He dares a look at himself, looking down on his body, and only now does he realise that he’s all bandaged up, and bacta tubing surrounds his torso and leg.

The redhead tries sitting up on the bed but fails, quickly slumping back down with a pained cry. This catches the attention of the droid, who turns around, leaving some instruments it was holding on the table.

“You’re awake,” the droid notes. “I will let the Master know.”

“Master? Who?” Hux manages to croak out; his throat is incredibly dry.

The droid ignores his question and exits the room. Not a minute later, you appear through the door and hurriedly make your way to him. Next to the bed you stop for a second, looking at him with big eyes, as if to make sure it’s really him.

“By the Maker,” you finally let out with a sigh of relief. “You’re finally awake.”

A sob shakes your body as you sit down on the edge of the bed next to him. Your body gives out and you lean forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder as gently as you can while the tears come rolling down freely over your cheeks. Hux wants to hold you, comfort you, but his body is not responding. He can only helplessly watch as your hands fist the blanket around him, trying to hold on to something.

Slowly the fog in his brain starts lifting, revealing the memory of what happened on Ren’s ship. With it also comes the realisation that you had somehow managed to save him.

Hux wants to say something, but your cries build a knot in his throat and a pain in his chest that aren’t the result of his injuries. He presses a soft kiss to the side of your head while he thinks back to how you had met all those years ago. How you had slowly and unknowingly picked away at his walls, how you had started falling for each other. How you had listened to each of his rants, laughed at his jokes. How you had comforted him when his life's work, Starkiller base, was blown to bits. How you had always been at his side, anchoring him.

And now here he was again, only still breathing because you saved him.

Finally getting your cries under control, you look up at your lover, holding his face with both your hands, smoothing over his cheekbones with your thumbs. Hux bites back a pained whimper as he reaches up to wipe away the tears from your cheeks.

“I thought I lost you,” you whisper, kissing his forehead.

“What happened?” Hux asks after a moment.

“Pryde shot you after figuring out you let the rebels escape,” you retell.

Hux looks down at his chest. Through the partially transparent bacta tubing he can make out a scar on his chest where there surely should have been a hole. His brows furrow.

“How long was I out?” he questions, bringing his gaze back to you.

“26 rotations,” you answer. “Not that I've been keeping count or anything.”

“Twenty– wha– How did you–” Hux is so stunned he can’t form a proper sentence.

You give him a bittersweet smile as you retell how it all went down. You were on Ren’s Destroyer when he got shot. Two troopers carried his body from the bridge. You intercepted them and had them carry Hux into the med bay at gunpoint, where you ended up stunning them. After hooking up the General to the machines and essentially kidnapping one of the med droids, you got into an escape pod and made it to a small moon in the Bryx system, where you happened to know someone. They let you stay in this little cabin since they were currently off-world.

Hux listens intently, trying to wrap his head around the fact you essentially deserted the First Order just to save him. Meanwhile you unhook him from some of the machines except for the IV fluids.

“Are you hungry? Let me get you something to eat and drink,” you offer, turning away from the bed. But his hand shoots up to hold your arm and pull you back to sit.

“Just- just stay for a moment,” Hux pleads in a quiet voice, his face contorting in pain for a second from his action.

“Okay,” you say, taking his hand in yours, and sit back down on the bed.

For a moment you just sit there in silence, taking in each other’s presence.

“So, what happened?” Hux asks after a while.

“I… I just told you?” you retort, bringing your hand to his forehead to see if he has a fever. “Are you feeling dizzy or something?”

“No,” he says with a huff as he shakes his head and you remove your hand. “I mean what happened with the First Order, the rebels… with Ren?”

“Oh Armitage,” you say with an amused tone, but the smile doesn't reach your eyes. “You barely made it out alive and you're still obsessed with him?”

Hux scoffs.

“I’m not obsessed,” he grumbles.

“Well, whatever the case, you don't have to worry about him anymore,” you respond, averting your eyes to look somewhere beyond the walls. “His whole Destroyer went down. Just like the First Order. The resistance won.” You look back at him. “Ren is gone.”

Hux doesn’t answer, his face unreadable.

“Ren lost,” you remark, raising a brow at his lack of response. This was what he had been wanting after all. “You won.”

“Hm. This isn't exactly how I was picturing it,” Hux remarks.

“I know,” you say softly, caressing his cheek. “But the thing is, it's all over now. I'm pretty sure we’re the sole survivors from that ship. Everyone will think we’re dead. We get a fresh start, Armitage. A clean slate.”

Hux huffs, deep in thought, and slightly incredulous. You can feel the tears stinging at the back of your eyes again.

“I’m just glad you’re still alive,” you say, unable to stop your voice from cracking. “All I want is to be by your side. So you stay put, rest, and heal up, okay?” The tears start rolling freely again. “We’ll be fine.”

Hux’s gaze softens infinitely, his usual stern and cold glare now a warm, inviting ocean. He swallows hard.

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” he whispers, leaning into your hand which still cups his face. “You’ve saved me more times than I can count.” His eyes leave yours to look up at the ceiling. “I don't think I deserve this. You should have left me behind.”

You turn his face to you so he meets your eyes again.

“Please don’t say that. I would never give up on you,” you assure him. “All of your failures, your accomplishments, your success, your emotions, your body. Every bit of you. I accept and love them all.”

You lean in to place the softest of kisses on his now chapped lips, then kiss the corner of his mouth, his nose, his cheek. You don’t pull back, whispering into his skin.

“It might feel like you have no purpose left right now but–”

“It’s you,” he interrupts you. “You are my purpose.”

You let out a shuddering breath, kissing him again, and he melts into you.

“You can decide what's next,” he says after you pull back. You smile down at him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

“We'll decide together.”

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @dybynyght

#goose feathers #hux x reader #general hux x reader #armitage hux x reader #sw hux x reader #star wars x reader

245 notes · View notes

damagedintellect · 10 months

Text

Nakahara Chuuya x Reader

💌 Would this be considered a social suicide? : Chapter 1 💌

Summary: You knew it was dangerous to take walks at night but hearing the water rushing under the bridge was calming to your nerves. You didn’t imagine you’d ever fall into the river and somehow wake up in your favorite anime. The isekai that I’m sure will come back to haunt me. It’s kept me up all night but I might as well get the brainrot out.

Notes: Reader is Isekai’d into BSD, Slow to start, Chuuya is endgame but there’s a fair bit of reader & Dazai moments too

💌 Word count: 2,348 💌 Available Chapters [You are here] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

You stood over the bridge looking out at the sunset. You would have to return home before it got too dark but the tranquil sound of the rushing water underneath you always calms your nerves after an episode. Things have been pretty rough lately but you’d live. As a writer you were your worst critic. You were almost done with your first big manuscript and you just needed to get past the final hurdle before you could start seeking out publishing companies. At the beginning your novel came easy but as the ending chapters were approaching you started to dread finishing it. The unknown future was a scary thought. Multiple what if’s flooding your mind. The fear that you would have wasted the better of a year and a half writing a story for no actual gain was one of them. It shouldn’t be considered wasted time because writing it helped you in many ways but the ever looming thought that you could have accomplished much more in the same amount of time is a burden that will never leave you alone. If only things could be as easy as the media you consumed. Your recent obsession with a certain anime series wasn’t helping either but it’s captivated your heart and it’s all you think about nowadays. Which is what spurred on the little tiff with your writing. All you’ve done recently is play the Bungo Stray Dogs mobile game trying to pull the rate up Chuuya unit to the point where you were actually no lifing it. While you agree that you might be going overboard just a little, you might actually have formed an addiction to playing marbles. You honestly preferred when you were analyzing and fantasizing about the contrast of the strong bonded characters. Not to mention how much you can see yourself in everyone. The amount of character study is comforting to you and one day you wish to write something that makes others feel the way you do when you read BSD. From your perspective this was just research but to the rest of the world haha whoops just your autism is showing. It’s a limiting belief you weren’t sure how to get rid of either. The need to constantly do and be productive with your time otherwise you fail at society when ultimately success is subjective.

Before you could turn around you were harshly grabbed by the arm. You were pushed against the railing as your assailant threatened you to stay quiet. A knife was brandished against your neck but almost foolishly the wrong side was being pressed against you. The man reeked of alcohol so maybe he wasn’t all there right now. Mustering as much rage and aggression you’ve been bottling up for years you think to yourself that this was now or never. If there was one thing you have been thinking about since childhood it was pulling off a Miss Congeniality. Shouldering him in the gut, stepping on his foot, elbow to the face, and finishing it off with a swift kick to the dick. Panic was starting to kick in. You didn’t think that would work but that doesn’t matter right now you should start running. As you were about to bolt he grabbed your leg and your dumbass clutched onto the railing trying to use your bodyweight to break free and it worked due to the thug letting you go but your momentum was already set in motion. You threw yourself over the railing crashing in the icy water below.

—

“Dazai I swear if this was one of your planed double suicides I’m going to kill you!” a voice rang out. You could still feel the sensations of floating your memory murky.

“I assure you if it was, me and this lovely lady would already be dead but unfortunately Atsushi here ruined that miracle for me.”

You choked, you recognized those voices “D-Dazai?” When your vision came too you were in Atsushi’s lap as Kunikida was shaking his partner. This couldn’t be real.

“Ah so sleeping beauty’s awake. Kunikida as a gentleman you should ask her if she’s alright and stop strangling me.”

Reluctantly the blonde did as he was told and let go, kneeling in front of you “Are you alright my colleague said you were floating in the river?” his eyes were full of concern.

You looked dazed, glancing around to see the familiar riverbank that Atsushi starts at during the very beginning of Bungo Stray Dogs. You looked at your hands. You were still wearing the same clothes you put on this morning, admittedly they were much soggier than you remember but you had no memory of the day or how you ended up in the river. For some reason you knew who these people were and what seemingly happens to them in the future. The most notable thing was you were grossly aware of the fact that this universe belonged to your favorite manga that currently was on its 108th chapter? This had to be a dream. If you played along maybe you’d eventually wake up. You’ve had lucid dreams before, it wasn’t too far fetched but the ache in your heart didn’t want you to wake up. Finally you looked up at Kunikida who was patiently waiting for your answer but before you could give a response your stomach growled. How embarrassing, now you really wanted to die.

Dazai keeled over laughing “I guess introductions can wait till we get something to eat, how about that?” He offered you a hand over his partner's shoulder to help you up. You snapped out of your haze to grab his hand and say “I can’t remember much so I think that’s for the best.”

What have you gotten yourself into?

At dinner Atsushi spent no time at all stuffing his face as Kunikida and Dazai bantered back and forth. Dialogue you remembered from when you watched the show originally. You forgot how furious Kunikida was over the whole ordeal and you felt bad knowing what Atsushi was going to say next. He really needed a hug.

“I came to Yokohama straight from the orphanage. I’ve had nothing to eat and nowhere to sleep since. I thought I’d starve to death.”

“You came from an orphanage?” Dazai questioned. He was sitting across from you casually and despite being hungry you noticed that he didn’t order anything to eat. You had ordered one out of solidarity. You’ve always wanted to try tea on rice but never bothered trying to find a place that makes it in your area. Atsushi was already on his twelfth bowl or so as he continued the conversation.

“I was yes but they kicked me out.”

“Sounds like a real philanthropic organization.” Dazai turned his attention from Atsushi to you “How about you? Remember anything now?” He rested his head on the back of his hands.

You nodded “I think my name is (Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N). Still trying to work out where I came from and how I got in the river but it’s something to start.” Being vague was probably for the best right now. Although you would have to find some way into the Armed Detective Agency eventually. After that you could be a little more bold with your knowledge. Without an ability though, it would be by the skin of your teeth and your memory of the events to come. Not everyone in the agency had an ability or combative skills but they had plot armor, you sadly do not. Being caught up with the manga was great for knowing everything to come but you'd have to remember things you've read and watched months ago. There was no room for error as it stood currently. Your life literally depended on it. You wondered if you could pull it off. If you didn't you could always try the port mafia. It would be more risky and twice as dangerous but at least you could hopefully get a glimpse of a certain redhead before you died. Who knows, could be fun.

“Dazai we’re not a couple of do good-ers going around helping hard luck cases. We’ve got a job to do.” Kunikida nudged the other with his book leading Atsushi to question “That reminds me. You said that your current job involves the military. What kind of work do you do.”

“We’re private investigators” Dazai gave his signature smirk bringing his hand up to rest under his chin. What an absolute dork you loved this waste of bandages.

“Investigators?”

“But we handle more than lost pets and cheating spouses. Our office has uniquely gifted investigators, we’re the Armed Detective Agency.”

You sat upright with Atsushi. While he was having his little monologue you softly muttered “The Armed Detective Agency.” trailing off you made your eyes as wide as you could like you were seeing a vision before you shook your head staring back as Atsushi. “Tiger?” you stated in a hushed tone. Hopefully you were acting strange enough for Dazai to notice, it was the only way your plan was going to work out. You needed a reason to be kept around but not to upstage Atsushi's importance. Not like that could really happen since he is the tiger but still. You needed your bases covered without being too off the wall. The harsh bottom line was this was your only chance because you have no idea if your choices affect the story yet. On top of that you have no money, no friends and no shelter so they were your only option.

“You guys are looking for a tiger.” You stated it as a fact, regaining their attention after Dazai’s little health hanging prank.

Kunikida stopped strangling Dazai as the two exchanged looks. “We never said what the job was, it's not supposed to be a secret or anything but how’d you come to that conclusion?” He pushed up his glasses for emphasis.

You tilted your head for effect. “I don’t know it was just a feeling I got when I looked at Atsushi kinda like a weird deja vu.” you played it off quizzically like you were also figuring things out as they progressed.

Atsushi stared across the table “You’re looking for a tiger?” You could feel him tense.

“Yes, a ferocious man eater who's recently appeared in the city. Well not that we know for sure it's devoured anyone but it’s ransacked warehouses, eaten farm animals and caused general chaos. The authorities have received all kinds of scary reports about it” Dazai sighed, slipping back into his uninterested mood. In Atsushi’s panic he knocked over his chair and a couple of bowls as he tried to crawl away. You watched the scene play out as Kunikida pinned him to the floor and the interrogation started. You sat patiently as Atsushi was then asked if he was free to be bait.

“Forget it no way!”

You laughed at Atsushi’s outburst trying to lighten the mood. “I don’t know Atsushi. If it’s after you I feel like this is the perfect opportunity to get it off your back for good. What if I tagged along? Strength in numbers right?” He stood up and defended himself “That doesn’t make it better! I’m not doing this okay. I know what you’re thinking, you’re planning to use me as bait-”

“There’s a reward you know.”

From there Atsushi’s fate was sealed and you all made your way over to the warehouse. You waited around for hours, everyone keeping to themselves. This was something they didn’t show you in anime but you figured time would pass as normal anyhow. You were laying on one of the crates that was across from Atsushi. You had been staring up at the ceiling after staring at Dazai became boring. He was literally reading his book. You saw his eyes move across the page. You really weren't sure what else you expected. As soon as Atsushi opened his mouth you rolled your eyes.

Finally, show time.

It’s not like you’d actually be of any help, you just needed to make sure you didn’t die or get in the way. Hopefully the groundwork you set prior would be enough. If you were in Dazai's shoes and some girl you've never seen before who has amnesia but happens to know the details of your mission, it would be pretty strange. It's not as strong as Atsushi’s but fingers crossed it was enough. When Atsushi started to turn, you stretched and said “Guess that’s my cue to leave, I’ll let Kunikida and the others know.” Dazai only smirked and continued to monologue to Atsushi who would not remember the speech later. You casually strode out of the warehouse seeing the others already surrounding the building, hearing the ruckus inside. You didn’t speak, only waved them in as you made your way back to Dazai seeing that the dust had already settled and Atsushi was already on the ground. After everyone else got to take a jab at him the brunette finally spoke.

“I’ve already made my decision. We’re going to make them one of us.”

You sighed in relief when he gestured to you as well. You didn't want to be presumptuous and assume he meant "them" as in plural when that's not always the case. Regardless, your personal mission was accomplished. It was enough to be lumped in with Atsushi but you weren’t out of the woods yet. It was enough to get you through the night. If you didn’t wake up from this dream you’d still have the entrance exam to worry about. Then the matter of how much you give away about possibly having an ability and next being able to live the lie you’ve crafted. As a writer it shouldn’t be that hard to craft yourself a solid backstory but there was still no proof of your existence outside waking up at the riverside. You’d have to be careful but you were up for the challenge. After all, what have you got to lose?

Chapter 1 | Next Chapter =>

#BSD isekai au no one asked for #nakahara chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #bsd imagines #chuuya nakahara x reader #don't mind me just playing around with BSD like dolls #xreader #x reader

101 notes · View notes

allycat75 · 27 days

Text

Happy April Fool's Day, Boston Dumb Fuck! But then it is no longer just a day for you anymore, is it?

You really gave it the office over the past few years, haven't you? Made a joke of your life, your family, friends and fans and look at where it has gotten you.

In honor of this most sacred of days, let's take a quick look back down Untrustworthy Lane, shall we?

You saying you loved love in your SMA article, then taking this massive dump on it. That was awesome!

Also saying you hated yourself in the same SMA article. Too bad no one close to you believed you or intervened. Maybe this mess could have been avoided

Your then fake girlfriend, now fake wifey, crashing the Thanksgiving family celebration at Disney World, where you pretended to be creepy niece-creepy uncle. I am sure your family laughed and laughed at that one

Tried to convince us jump scares were cute beyond brothers and could be easily staged

Also thought it would be fun to hide a misogynistic snuff film behind a dumb chin puppet video

Tried to trick us into thinking being good at Mario Cart was a noteworthy feat, and being bad at it was worthy of derision

Proved Valentine's Day is a joke by releasing a few handfuls of unflattering photos, plus some obvious photshop fails and even 2 or 3 photos that had absolutely nothing to do with the day of forced love. The joke was on you, however, since all that accomplished was to murder so many lady-boners it doomed you to only finding pleasure in your own hands, or perhaps a realistic fleshlight, for the foreseeable future. But you are a big "alone guy" so that should suit you well!

Extending this shameful stunt to the "Ghosted" premiere. That was a double whammy- the little racist, clout chasing twit thinking she was going to walk the red carpet and Ana and Dexter thinking they could save that festering turd of a movie from further embarrassment. Are they still talking to you after that prank?

Orchestrating two ghost kinda ceremonies using only vague descriptions of locations and pictures from family and friends in the vicinity of possible kinda locations, including a very real and special birthday party for a young lady that was probably ruined, but all in the name of a fun manipulation, right? Pepper in some online quotes about getting mentored by RDJ (he's doing a bang up job, by the way), as well as a line in the online version of the disaster of all disaster interviews in GQ, (that if people truly cared, would have put a 5150 hold on you and your dissociated life) and voila! Sham marriage complete.

Continuing with the joke-in-and-of-itself ASP. I mean, having a discussion on antisemitism where your guest chides those who normalize this behavior, just as you shove that poison ring in the camera, symbolizing the unholy union between you and the Nazi wifey. Great job, man!

Almost as good as you wearing the colors of the Nazi flag for your red carpet debut with your charming anti-semetic "bride", fake kisses and all

The best jest, however, was you not even getting to catch up with your more successful friends at the Vanity Fair party because you and that prize woman of yours were shuffled off immediately to the pick up line to be taken home, alone to your fleshlight

But you should be used to not getting into parties. There was the pathetic loitering in front of the CAA and UTA pre-Oscar bashes, but the best prank on yourself had to be the SNL Christmas party, where the wifey recreated the bratty niece look from the first pap walk and you tried to drive a wedge between one of your best friend's marriages (at least Colin has gotten in some good jabs at you on the show), all while the two of you probably were hid away in a dimly lit basement room for 20 minutes, then let out a back door to go home, alone to your fleshlight. And Alec Baldwin and his wife were actually invited. That's gotta hurt!

And just recently being called a "car enthusiast". More subtle than some of your other hoaxes, but still hilarious!

Now I don't know if you signed onto this because of duress or the promise of something great (hopefully not the Gene Kelly movie, because that was never going to fly- that was another trick on you, and even if it was miraculously offered to you, after this, it would not be a good look playing a male chauvinist who preferred young women).

I am sure you have had your fun, but let's hope this time next year you will have long hung up the jester's hat and become a real life boy!

#Skinny Falstaff #Ai I'm human form #What the fuck are you doing?#You are the company you keep #Learn how to make better decisions #The unhappy idiot #is your mom still proud?#You know you burned it all down right?#Things need to change #was it worth it?

18 notes · View notes

megabuild · 5 months

Note

what is aoyuer? is that an acronym for something?

okay so i meant to make a big doc explaining what aoyuer is like months ago but then i started working on different projects and put it on the back burner.. and then i got ill and now i don't have much time to work on stuff at all. but not having the doc sucks and means anything i ever say about it is very confusing. so i'm so sorry anon for using your ask as an excuse to just dump as much aoyuer lore as i can without reasonably spoiling it but also thanks for reminding me that i have a lot of followers here who have never heard of it. a sobering thought

tldr; aoyuer (as of yet untitled empires rewrite) (sorry bree) is my au rewrite of empires smp that aims to connect seasons 1 and 2 as well as after life, new life, and a bunch more inbetween, with a major focus on pixlriffs' story. it also ties up a lot of loose ends and is generally darker and more adult-aimed than the original series. technically that's all you need to know but here's the no spoilers plot rundown for those interested

so aoyuer is built up of ~7 arcs but only 4 of them are like Super important

arc 0: this is just afterlife smp and a ton of early worldbuilding, the crash of the great stags, etc; what's most important from this is that oli exists and has for thousands of years, probably

arc 1: empires season 1! set in the 1500s, the world is going through a sort of renaissance period with massive technological advancements. pixlriffs the copper king (cprk) is working a boring little library job and spending most of his time kicking himself and being mad he hasn't done anything with his life (he is only like 30 but the idea of feeling old and unaccomplished even when you're young is a major theme for arc 1). enter fwhip! who is his annoying ex-roommate ex-bestie ex-boyfriend from university that left him on pretty bad terms. he has a way more accomplished job and as part of that he has been allowed to head The Empires Project which is a major journey intended to further some distant colonies while also investigating the land they're on. the land has some weiiird properties which fwhip thinks could be harnessed to create functional immortality (which was the subject of pix's thesis). he wants pix to come with him and investigate. pix feels weird about it but agrees to come along and be the "emperor" for the desert colony while he does his research... and then things get fucked up and scary! its a high fantasy that switches between a metaphorical dissection of their horrid will they won't they relationship and both of their issues aaand a more Literal dissection of the land and things living in it. including people and animals. at times. and also involves pix accidentally awakening a curse for a billion million years which sets the rest of aoyuer in motion.

arc 1.5 is sort of Not important but iwlike it a lot. there's not much to be said for it without major spoilers but it's set a little bit after arc 1 and comprises of fwhip being very upset about how his stupid project fell apart and trying to write up an Official Report on why everything fell apart while also coming to terms with him being the worst guy to ever have lived or something. much of aoyuer is like thinly veiled metaphors for mental illness but this one is just about mental illness

arc 2 sends us years forward into season 2 in the 1800s and our protagonist is professor pixelle riffs, lorekeeper (lrkp) who leaves his job as an archaeology lecturer to go and study the ancient capital and The Machiiine. because the machine set up WAY too much cool stuff to just ignore. sculk infection/possession is a big part of this arc. however while he's doing all this he meets oli! remember him? who has crash landed in S2 (basically the same way he did in canon) and is now regularly butting heads with pix. they eventually become friends and then umm something more :3 a lot of this remains the same as canon except the sculk arc gets a proper conclusion and ties into the ghost stuff. it ends with oli's finale where he still fakes his death (the goblin stuff is going to be changed but it's up in the air right now) and pix is devastated but pretty certain there's something not quite right so he picks greggory up and goes off in search of his lame ass boyfriend.

arc 2.5 actually takes place mid arc 2 because it's the hermpires crossover, which is less different dimensions and more different times (hermitcraft is our present and the rift facilitates time travel). when pixelle the archaeologist steps through the rift it causes serious time fuckery and so he sort of gets. forcefully ejected from his body and becomes a ghost possessing pixl riffs of the hermitcraft recap (rcp) who stumbles out of the rift very tired and very confused! there's a lot of fun mistaken identity stuff between him and oli and this is generally the most like. comedic and casual of the arcs though it still has some sweet moments.

arc 3 is just new life smp. where pixelle finally ends up in nl, finds that his lame ass boyfriend is still alive, and has relationship drama with him Except on top of that the land that new life is set on has similar properties to the land from arc 1 (functional immortality except it has some different effects, aka. going through drastic physical changes every time you "die") and so pixelle starts investigating that and maybe finds out that his whole life and his ancestors and descendants lives might be caught up in a time loop because of the copper king. forever and ever. this hasn't got much for it because i was going to work from new life canon as a base but then both pix and oli stopped playing on it LMFOHALDH but anyway.

aaand arc 4! final arc! which is set in the present right after pixl (the recap one) returns home from the hermitpires crossover. except the weird ghost voice of his ancestor in his head.. isn't going away? or rather its been replaced by a different one who is sending him on The Heros Journey. along with zloy and lyarrah and modern fwhip. this is basically the long awaited Conclusion to the curse that the copper king put in place and a lot of bullshit happens that icant really explain but it ties up all the loose ends and is generally just pix consistently having the worst time. hes the only pix who goes through hell without bringing it upon himself like he was just born.

and um. that's aoyuer! obviously there's more for all the arcs and i am happy to answer Basically any questions even though i get a little nervous sharing stuff about it because im shy. But iwhope thag explains at least a bit for everyone. My dream is to write this all into various fanfics but that looks kinda unlikely rn but it means a lot to me and you can kinda safely assume if I'm ever talking about or drawing empires there's a 99% chance it's actually aoyuer because I forget canon exists .AOYUER WORLDWIDE

#anon #asks #aoyuer

34 notes · View notes

best-at-episode · 7 months

Text

Round 2 - Side C: Poll 4 of 4

The Cooler:

After a natural disaster hits the Fire Kingdom, Flame Princess is forced to team up with an unlikely ally.

Varmints:

Bubblegum turns to Marceline’s help when something threatens the citizens of her homestead.

propaganda under the cut

The Cooler:

one of the most underrated episodes of s6 and the whole show imho!! not only did it set up pb's character development for both the s6 finale and the first of half of s7, it also gave fp a much needed spotlight in figuring out where and how to take her own arc (even if cut short by how cn treated the show later lmao)…….. like, what if you are more than a thousand years old and leadership and sacrifice transformed you into something you don't quite recognize anymore and the person who brought this brutally honest mirror up to your face is someone you can see as a smaller, younger version of yourself as a leader…… what if you see a person with self-proclaimed authority undermining your autonomy and self-actualization again and not flinching away from it but STANDING UP not only for yourself and your people!!! c'mon!! tasty tasty narrative foils to each other in a way nobody could've seen coming… like c'mon!!! ALSO ALSO the insane mad scientist woman vs superpowered fire teenager fight? incredible. showstopping. the ending of the episode having pb giving away even a tiny bit of control she felt she had to have all over her life and other people's in order to not come crashing down, breaking off her survellaince system? breathtaking, even more so in the context of what later the show took her character; so in conclusion: the cooler is one of the best episodes of AT and to accomplish this much in only 11 minutes is insane

Varmints:

for obvious reasons. But also this is such a big episode for Bonnie. Coming to terms with the fact that she needs to rest and that her workaholism has hurt her and others… It’s good!!!

Divorced couple talk about why they didn't work out the ep. But On a Serious Note: it's such a satisfying ep both wrt Peebles' individual chara development and their relationship arc. Up to that point, PB had been really close-minded and self-assured to the point of arrogance. I love that we get to see her so vulnerable with that of being exiled, still struggling with her controlling tendencies, but finally willing to admit her faults humbly. Also, Bubbline. But it was Real satisfying to have such a nice bone thrown our way, with them finally talking about why things didn't work between them. THE GRAFITTI. Seeing how much both of them have grown to the point they can be more honest and intentional about giving each other another go. Jsut so many things.

#adventure time #atimers #fionna and cake #princess bubblegum #marceline abadeer #flame princess #tournament poll #round 2

35 notes · View notes

try-set-me-on-fire · 7 months

Text

Tagged by @rewritetheending @devirnis and @forthewolves for tidbit tuesday!

I’ve been frantically finishing a quilt all week so again I don’t really have actual new writing to share but I’ve been vaguely thinking about a Daniel lives au that I’m not sure I’ll actually write? The idea is he’d grow up and implode under the pressure of being the perfect son his parents did so much to save, unable to live up to their idea of him, and then feeling guilty for ‘wasting his life’ because Buck literally exists because of him so he owes it to his baby brother to not be a fuck up, right? Then Buck grows up the hero baby who can never quite accomplish anything better than saving Daniel, who then gets the double pressure of “Daniel didn’t become who we wanted him to be, now we will shape Evan into the perfect son”. And then Maddie gets sort of forgotten and looked over in all of this :( So yeah another sad idea from yours truly I’m sure you’re all shocked. Here’s the vague outline of events I have in my head (substance abuse cw):

-Daniel gets sick and Evan is born, and he loves his baby brother more than anything.

-Daniel is sixteen and gets very very drunk at a party and crashes dad’s nice new car on the way home. Screaming fight with his parents in the ER that Maddie tries to diffuse. Buck is only eight and was left home alone and comes into Daniels room late at night because he’s scared and worried and Daniel comforts him.

-Maddie is married and none of them were at the wedding, Daniel is 23 and left rehab before he was finished with the program, Buck is 15 and so fucking lonely, suffocating in their parents house. Daniel sees how miserable he is and tries to convince their parents to let Buck live with him, but he has no job or place to live and isn’t sober, and they turn him away.

-Two years later Maddie has got him more successfully through rehab (paying for it herself, their parents have cut him off entirely) and he goes back for Buck who has tested out of high school and left town as soon as he turned 18.

-By complete random chance, Daniel and Buck end up in the same town while Buck is working as a ranch hand. It’s a joyful reunion but then Buck accidentally comes out and Daniel reacts badly and it devolves into a big fight about their childhood.

-Daniel helps Maddie escape Doug and get to California. Weird bad feelings that he shoves down about her wanting to be near Buck instead of him (he has some job that makes him travel a lot, he understands it’s stability she wants but it still makes him feel like a fuck up who can’t be trusted to help.) Tense dinner with the three of them. Buck is still so young but he’s just gone through Abby and he’s just met Eddie and he has a job he loves and wow this kid is growing up. Daniel wishes he could have been a part of it.

-Maybe a series of phone calls after all of Buck’s near death experiences? Daniel doesn’t actually visit but they get closer despite the distance.

-He finally visits again a bit after the lightning strike. Buck is mostly recovered, and he’s with Eddie and is so so happy, and Maddie is doing really well and is getting married again soon, and Daniel has been sober for a long time and has a job he likes and maybe a girlfriend, and, like, they all survived. They all made it. They love each other. There’s regret, there’s a lot of wishing things happened differently, but they’re finally all here together and things are good.

Tagging @shitouttabuck @buckactuallys @butchdiaz @wildlife4life @bigfootsmom @lover-of-mine @daffi-990

#i just have a very clear image of buck and daniel wrestling in the dirt in a giggly brothers way #and then yelling at each other with that dirt still on their clothes and in their hair #i can just imagine a party at the Diaz house and Eddie kisses Buck’s cheek and Buck grins so big and in love #and Daniel isn’t sure he’s ever ever seen him this happy #tag games

41 notes · View notes

rathayibacter · 1 month

Note

as a TTRPG designer, how would you approach blackjack / a risk reward type mechanic (I am going to steal)

oh hell yea i genuinely love folks doin stuff like this, ideas are meant to be taken and ran with

and youre in luck cuz ive talked about this before w friends! i think push your luck mechanics fuckin rule in ttrpgs. something i think about a lot is how most dice-based ttrpgs have an actually pretty shallow skill ceiling. like, there's skill involved in making your build, and using your resources at the right time, but once you have your build and know how to spend resources a lot of the actual mechanical fabric of play is just rolling a die with as many modifiers on it as possible and hoping it passes the GM's threshold. there's not a lot of ownership over winning, and not a lot of regret in losing. so yea i think Blackjack's a real promising approach!

so lets talk about the actual meat and potatoes. what's Blackjack bringing to your game, what're the costs, and what's the design space?

Blackjack's letting you turn every roll into a meaningful gamble, where the players can decide how far they want to go and how much they want to risk to accomplish their goals. already that sets a kind of tone for the game, where PCs aren't really noble heroes (or, at the very least, they're noble heroes in a world that makes no effort to coddle them). failure is always a possibility, and disaster is always your fault.

in terms of costs, there's one real big one right off the bat: playing a minigame takes time and mental effort. this is the primary advantage of dice, you barely have to stop to roll a die and see if it was good or not. if you're playing Blackjack every time you do something, you're gonna get very little done. so you're gonna wanna make every game really count! the Blackjack only comes out when the stakes are big. Viditya Voleti describes a fun dice mechanic here where multiple actions from different players can be resolved with one check, and that's another way you could handle something like this.

so okay here's the fun part: design space. here's a first pass at a Blackjack ttrpg mechanic.

whenever you're in a tense situation with everything on the line, play a game of Blackjack. players may bet any amount of Strength, Stakes, and Survival, though some games may have minimum bets established by the dealer. the dealer chooses their face-up card from a hand of three, then deals their face-down card from the deck. when the round is over, the dealer pays out all bets, then describes how the gamestate has changed. if a player went bust, they fail catastrophically. their hubris comes crashing down on them. if a player lost to the dealer, they fail, but they're not out. they can push their luck and try again. if a player tied or beat the dealer, things go well for them. they pushed ahead, got what they wanted, and can try again for double or nothing. if a player got a Blackjack, they succeeded beyond their wildest expectations, double their winnings, and get full narrative control. Strength can be spent to buy new skills and abilities, to gain an edge in future games. Stakes can be spent to buy narrative beats, and many obstacles require payment before a certain number of games elapse. Survival is spent to mitigate the costs of failure and ensure your character doesn't meet an untimely end.

something i really like here is how the dealer gets some control over the difficulty of the check. once the game starts, they're still essentially automated, but they can choose to make a particular game easier or harder on the players. the three currencies also give some texture to each bet, and the GM can play this up by requiring certain minumum bets. a game against a brutal killer might cost 3 Survival upfront, so if you lose you're in a precarious place but if you win you'll be (temporarily) untouchable. it could also allow for a game world where multiple Blackjack games are present at a single time, offering different buyins and payouts to the players. they might be investigating a murder in a small town, and each suspect is represented by a potential Blackjack match. the antagonist of a long campaign might be available from the very start, sitting smugly behind an impossible game of incredible stakes, waiting for the players to build up the courage to take them down.

anyway, those are just a few thoughts on this! lmao

#ttrpgs #oh and naturally if you wanna take some or all of this go ahead #even if you're not the anon who asked #just give me a shoutout #oh and let me know cuz id love to check it out!

11 notes · View notes

privateanxieties · 2 years

Text

uh-oh, look at us

Summary: She’s lonely and well past lightly buzzed - she’s teetering the line of drunk. And then Spider-Man crashes through her window like a disgruntled pigeon. Between the two of them, coughing up one brain cell is quite the task.

Pairing: tasm!Peter Parker x Reader (she/her)

Words: 1.7K

-----------------------------

Confronting your loneliness is a task best accomplished while sweetened up by delightfully fruity wine, something to ease her mind into the pity party she's throwing tonight.

It's been a while since she's started realizing that she's getting quite… old, at least too old to still yearn with childishness for things that come so easily to others. You begin to feel a bit pathetic, trapped in the same cycle of irrationality for years, and at some point you just stop trying. You turn a sour grapes situation into a no-grapes-at-all one.

It's why she's throwing this party on a shitty couch she hasn't bothered decluttering - there are no friends to indulge the wine and snacks with her. The last time she can remember being socially apt enough to quickly invite people in was a random girl she met when she was six, both of them subjected to a boring event by their parents and having to find a way to spend the time more pleasantly.

Past a certain age, it becomes too hard to talk to someone about yourself, or strike up a friendship - what would she even say? There are no stories worth telling, except the ones that never happened. Perhaps someone would listen with horror to her confession of the empty spaces in her life, and perhaps that'd be entertainment enough, but no one would choose to stay. Ironically, she can never leave herself, as much as she'd fancy at least a vacation from her mind. All she can give herself instead is a break from the crushing awareness. She can simply… turn it off. Become oblivious.

That's what she's hoping to do tonight, as she brandishes the ludicrously oversized wine glass around, pretending the couch is a fancy chaise in a therapist's office and she is the main character of all life on Earth.

She declares confidently that starting this year, there will be no more insecurity as she renounces the decade-long yearning. No more wondering, no more longing, no more melting from the observed gestures of others. No more asking what it would be like, no more wishing she were different. Going forward, she'll hold on to whatever she can, but she'll never again try to grasp at things. She'll make whatever can be made from this, leaving the rest up to time.

She's distantly aware that life is bound to be a revolving door of failure and disappointment if this is her plan for the future, but she can't find it in herself to care. She doesn't expect to live to see an age where she'll be filled with regret. Statistically, she ticks many of the boxes that make one predisposed to dying in anonymity. And though a part of her wants to believe there's always hope that things will improve, she knows that her self-sabotage skills are second to none.

She's the type of person who would take the bull by the horns only to kindly ask it not to stomp on her. Fat chance. It's a big, complex and often cruel world out there, and she feels small, simple and way too sensitive to defend herself, much less others.

She has no idea how he does it.

Night after night, the city stills under his watchful eyes and the light dawns with fewer threats roaming the streets. It's enviable and infuriating all at once, because she'd also like to have some kind of grand purpose if she can't have other meaningful experiences. The one time she tried playing the hero was a marvelous show of desperation and blind bravery, and it resulted in a close encounter with death and a wicked crescent scar for her trouble. Nobody benefitted from her intervention in that crumbling building all those months ago, and the hospital bill she got served when she woke up is still being paid off. Somehow. Her income is ok, but nothing to write home about. In fact, if she did try to write home, it'd probably come with a 'return to sender' stamp.

It's fine. She cut her losses on the parental front a while ago, and there isn't much to grieve. She misses none of the mind games and venom, and any potential inheritance wouldn't make up for all the groveling she'd have to endure to get it. Her parents are not nearly wealthy enough to justify their sadistic tendencies and narcissism, so it's a hard pass for her. Then again, if she's thinking this way, perhaps she's not as different from them as she thought.

"Qui se ressemble s'assemble," she mocks indignantly, her mother's favorite saying infiltrating awareness and finding its way to the tip of her tongue.

Birds of a feather do flock together, but that was never how her mother meant it. Whenever the occasion arose for her to dutifully dole out those words, they were always meant to rally the troops - to persuade an otherwise unwilling spectator into volatile action, usually backstabbing. Sometimes murder.

She hasn't killed anyone, but she's seen more than enough of that in the family: absolute bloodbaths - of the metaphorical kind, of course, but smothering and cruel all the same. At least if there were some sort of empire to fight over, she'd understand the heights of ambition her siblings possessed. Alas, no. She isn't giving up her soul for a few million dollars.

She isn't giving up expensive wine either, and at two hundred dollars a bottle, this little number is too pricey to be disappearing so quickly. It's a good thing she bought three, because the glutton she was raised to be still wins to the detriment of her more cultivated self sometimes. She'll blow a hole in her bank account at foreseeable intervals just to feel something.

But, unlike that hole, the one that's violently ripped into her window does not spark joy.

She's temporarily too dazed to scream, but when she sees the lumpy mass writhing on the carpet and registers its sporadic groans, staying calm becomes impossible.

"What the fuck?"

She repeats the sentiment a few more times before setting down the glass on the edge of the coffee table and getting off the couch at the farthest end from the window.

Her eyes know who that is, but her mind refuses to catch up. Why is he twitching like a crackhead? Why won't he stop twitching?

Ew, he's bleeding.

Cautiously (and a little wobbly) she approaches the twitching lump and dares to touch it, likely aided by the alcohol coursing her veins. It instantly backfires and she gets shocked backwards, feet barely missing his face, a small twitch now in her shoulder and tingles all over her tongue and forehead. The feeling must've returned some sharpness to her mind, because soon after she notices a small rectangular device on the heaving chest, right above where the spider's head ends - begins? It looks weird upside down. Three of the legs have been slashed into, and liquid that's darker than she expected now oozes out and onto her carpet. Is blood supposed to be that color? She's never seen this much of it to know.

Well, well… What to do in this predicament? Obviously, he's not dying on her living room floor and haunting the place. And if touching him is out of the question, what is a girl to do?

A dreadful idea pops into her head, but absent any other options and with urgency front and center, she reluctantly grabs the wine bottle from the table and pours its remaining contents directly over his chest. The twitching stops almost instantly, so her guess is that the rash decision was a success.

But he doesn't wake up. He keeps lying there motionless, no more sounds leaving him. He also keeps bleeding out on her carpet, and a brief vision of the police collecting his body from her apartment flashes across her mind. Unacceptable.

Now properly motivated, she first makes sure the wine really worked by touching the tip of her finger to the outer part of his left arm, relieved when no shock occurs and surprised by the softness of the fabric. To her credit, she does try to wake him up several times, each one less gentle than the last, but when no response emerges she has no choice but to pull something together resembling help.

When she stumbles dizzily on the way to the bathroom, she isn't sure which of them is more in need of assistance. Well, he is unconscious and bleeding out, so probably him - but the mirror reveals blood on her person that certainly did not come from him. On her shoulder and elbow there are several small and not so small gashes peppering the skin under torn pyjamas. She didn't even notice that. Could be the buzz, or it could be the shock of having Spider-Man crash head-first through the living room window. Either way, she can figure those out later.

Grabbing as many clean towels as she can find, scissors and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, she makes her way back to the crash site. Great. Still passed out on the floor. Doing her best impression of first aid, she cuts away the bits of fabric that impede access to the wounds, calming herself by humming a random tune.

Pour some alcohol, dab with towel. Pour, dab. Pour, dab. Get cut on a shard of glass from lack of situational awareness. Check his breathing. Wonder if she's actually making things worse. Dab and pour. Pour and dab. Dab -

Her wrist is stopped mid-air by a firm grasp, and she jumps so far back that she cuts herself again, this time embedding a piece of glass in her palm.

"Fucking shit!"

In response, she hears a groan and a cough, both muffled by a mask that is soon lifted up and away. She stares in awe.

What. The fuck.

So slowly it might as well be at one frame per second, his head turns towards her and their eyes lock together. He blinks once and then again, and a tiny smile lifts one corner of his lips.

"Oh. Hey neighbor."

A/N: Thank you for reading. Your thoughts and comments are always appreciated. Feedback is crucial for writers and if you like a story, don’t hesitate to let us know :)

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!spiderman x reader #andrew!peter x reader #spider-man x reader #spider-man x you

256 notes · View notes