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fuckyeahgoodomens · 5 months

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The Good Omens Musical Masterpost🎵❤

How it started :)

Some time before 2013: Vicki Larnach, the australian composer and lyricist, read the Good Omens book, imagined figures dancing on stage with brilliant music and thought, ‘Ah, I’m gonna ask Terry Pratchet and Neil Gaiman if I can turn it into a musical.’ and sent an email to the publishers. The next day she got an email saying, ‘We don’t want a musical but Terry’s coming to Australia, so come and say hello and tell us what you got.’

Rob Wilkins came down to meet Vicki and Jim Hare - Vicki's husband and writer - and took them to meet Terry. They spent an hour and a half with them where Terry asked ‘piercing questions’, had tea with them and they showed Terry a song that Vicki wrote (about the Chattering Nuns). Terry said to Rob, ‘Rob, write and email to Neil, “Dear Neil, this is Terry. I’m sitting in front of two hippies from Sydney and they want to make a musical out of Good Omens and I’m tempted to let them do it.”’ which was the best email they ever heard and then Terry said, ‘Okay, you have me curious.’ - it was because of the Nuns song which sounded like the book. ‘I’m gonna give you six months, come back with a first draft libretto and five songs.’

They then sent it to Terry who sent it to Neil. Terry said, ‘I really like it, you’re moving story, you’re doing all the right things, but where’s showstopper, where’s the toe-tapper, you know I need people to go to intermission just snapping their fingers with the song they just can’t get out of their head, and I haven’t heard that.’ - and they realized that they were so busy serving the story they forgot to do the wow-factor, but found it very encouraging from Terry that he wanted to make it better.

They went through the whole book again to find a centrepiece - and they found it when Warlock is growing up and Aziraphale and Crowley are with him, and spent months working just on that one thing and called ‘All Living Things’ [the song at the start of this post :)] which is a line from the book.*’ Terry gave that song to a person he knew and asked him to play it to his wife with no context and when the next day the person said that his wife woke up still singing the song Terry said to Vicki and Jim: ‘Well, that’s what I asked you to do.’

* [“This here’s Brother Slug,” the gardener would tell him, “and this tiny little critter is Sister Potato Weevil. Remember, Warlock, as you walk your way through the highways and byways of life’s rich and fulsome path, to have love and reverence for all living things.” “Nanny says that wivving fings is fit onwy to be gwound under my heels, Mr. Fwancis,” said little Warlock, stroking Brother Slug, and then wiping his hand conscientiously on his Kermit the Frog overall.]

Vicki and Jim got the permission to being adapting it as a musical in 2013.

Vicki and Jim on it a couple of years ‘fumbling about’, took it as far as they could and decided to bring another person into it: Jay-James Moody

In 2015, Jay James-Moody joined the collaboration initially as a dramaturge and directorial eye, eventually evolving into co-book writer. Vicki, James and Jay have continued to evolve through countless more revisions and a number of private development readings with the support, time and talent of numerous wonderful Australian performers testing the material.

In November 2017, the musical was presented in its then-current form and entirety for the first time before an audience of over 500 eager attendees. The cast included Luke Joslin, Lachlan O’Brien, Nancye Hayes, Barry Quin, Brett O’Neill, Lauren McKenna, Nicholas Craddock, Paul Capsis, Rob Johnson, Amy Lehpamer, Debora Krizak, Blake Erickson, Nat Jobe, Ana Maria Belo, Jordan Hare, Bella Thomas, Anthony Abrakmanov and Samson Hyland.

Following a rapturous response to this reading it continued to be refined and developed.

In 2019, ten days before the show came out they did their last presentation, since then they’ve been to London and shown a videotape of that workshop to Neil and Rob which was ‘a pretty heartstopping experience’ but both Neil and Rob were ‘so lovely and very generous with their time’ and they were showing it to them and in the intermission Neil said ‘I wish Terry could have seen this.’ (see here :))

Differences between the musical and the book

The ending of the musical is a bit different, they were worried about it but Neil said, ‘I totally understand, the ending of the TV series is different, because I had something that was book-shaped and I needed to make it TV-shaped. And you had something that was book-shaped and you needed to make it stage-shaped.’

It opens with the burning of Agnes Nutter and Aziraphale and Crowley are introduced there.

Act One ends with them ‘essentially breaking up’ because of a huge argument and they dissolve their friendship, Act Two starts with the first time they meet.

The Future?

What is the future for the musical: in 2021 they said that they need to work on some things and then they hope to do another run, initially in Australia.

There will be a CD of the soundtrack available when the show is produced in it’s full version.

Videos

Vicki, Jim and Jay talking 46min about the musical (this video was shown at the Ineffable Con 3 in 2021 :))

Sizzle Reel 6min

Anathema singing The Perfect Place

Crowley calling Dagon to check on the hellhound

Shadwell and Newt

Aziraphale vanishing Hastur 👀

Links

Webpage

Instagram - a lot of more bts videos and pics :)

How to support?

Subsribe to the instagram page and like and comment that you want the musical on posts :)❤. If you want to be a sponsor or donor, there is contact on their webpage.

#good omens #good omens musical #musical #masterposts #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #fun fact #:)

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chosocutegf · 3 months

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Choso x gn!reader

cw: none

Choso loves doing your skin care routine. He doesn’t have one of his own, but the intimacy that comes from it makes him feel all giggly inside, and he can’t have enough of that.

After putting your pyjama on, you head to the bathroom, and that’s when you hear Choso catching up behind you. You suppress your smile when you stand in front of the sink and see your boyfriend arriving from the mirror. “What are you doing, baby?,” he asks softly as he stands behind you and wraps his arms around your middle.

“Skincare,” you murmur, trying to suppress a grin as you take your headbands. Choso insisted to have one himself, since to him ‘he couldn’t leave you alone when you did your masks’. You give him the frog one before putting yours.

When you look back at the mirror you see your grown up boyfriend, that usually scares everyone with his bored look, standing there with frog’s eyes standing up from his unruly dark hair. You stifle a chuckle before you turn around and cup his face in your hands. “Cute,” you murmur before standing on your tiptoes and pecking his lips.

When you pull back you see a blush spreading over his ears and neck at your words. You take a moment to observe his uncovered forehead, a rare sight that makes your stomach fill with butterflies. “You’re cute too,” he tells you and your face softens at the tenderness behind his words.

After washing both of your faces, you take two sheet masks. “I want the blueberry one,” Choso tells you as he leans closer to you, taking a look at the masks’ envelops.

You chuckle at his words and turn to look at him, deciding to tease him a little. “And what if I wanted that one?,” you ask him, raising your brows.

Choso frowns at your words and takes a moment to look at you before pursing his lips. “Fine… I’ll take the Aloe one,” he mutters, looking back at you with furrowed brows.

You let out a soft chuckle at that, because how precious is he? If you wished, he would give you the entire world.

“Kidding… you can take the blueberry one,” you tell him, kissing his shoulder before turning to the sink to open the masks. You take out his, and after you have spread out the sheet, you turn to him. The mask dangles from your hands while you look up at him and realise that you can’t reach him. He is too tall.

“Lean down,” you tell him and he smirks. “Magic word?,” he asks you, tilting his head to the side smugly. He was enjoying it, he always did. You roll your eyes and sigh, narrowing your eyes at him. “You’re insufferable, you know that?” you mutter, glaring at him, unable to hide your smile.

He chuckles softly and raises his brows. “Am I?,” he retorts, clicking his tongue against his teeth. Then, he leans down and steals a kiss from your lips, before murmuring against them, “so… magic word?”

“Please…,” you mumble, trying to stop the smile spreading on your lips. He knows the effect a simple kiss from him has on you, and he revels in that.

After leaving another kiss on your cheek, he nods and pulls back, letting you put the sheet mask on his face.

When you’ve put both of them on his and your face, you look back at the mirror. The sight is both hilarious and cute at the same time; on one side, Choso is standing taller with his frog headband, a satisfied expression on his face covered with the mask sheet. And on the other, there is you.

It’s no lie that you two are really a good couple, complimenting each other in every aspect.

However, when you see a smile cracking on Choso’s face, you physically can’t hold back yours. Before you know it, both of you burst into a fit of laughter.

You have to turn around to try to stop laughing, since looking back at your boyfriend makes you laugh even harder. Soon after, tears well up in your eyes and you’re folded in two while Choso leans against the sink, his head tilted back while he loudly laughs.

“Stop laughing!,” you try to say, but Choso shakes his head while he tries to breath over the laughter. You feel the sheet mask moving away from your face from the broad smile on your face, so you decide to head to the door, needing to put distance between you two.

“Come back!,” he calls after you, following you outside the bathroom. You let out a little scream when he grips your hips and pulls you back against his chest. You hold your mask against your face while you lean back, chuckling. Choso leans down and starts to leave little kisses on your neck. “You’re so precious like this…,” he murmurs against your skin.

You try to squirm away from his grip from the feeling of his wet mask against your skin. “Stop, Cho!” You whine as you try to push him away. He holds you tighter, observing you with a love struck expression.

You turn your head to look at him, letting out a soft chuckle at how intensively he is observing at you. “What?,” you ask him softly, before you pout playfully. “Am I ugly?,” you ask him.

He shakes his head, his smile widening, “ugly? I don’t think that word can be put in the same sentence as you,” he murmurs before he leans closer and kisses your lips, careful because of the masks. You feel butterflies flying freely in your stomach, and you wonder how can he still have this effect on you even after years.

“I just thought I would love to take a picture of you,” he murmurs against your lips, and you widen your eyes, squirming away from his grasp, interrupting the tender moment. “Never!,” you scream before running away.

Needn’t to say that, from that moment on, you denied him to be there when you put your masks on.

(m.list)

#choso kamo #choso #choso x you #choso fluff #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso x female reader #choso x y/n #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x gn reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x male reader

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elysianeclipxe · 1 year

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secret soft boy revealed | enhypen sunghoon

warnings: insults towards build a bear, sunghoon being a judgemental bitch /hj, irony or like little hypocritical (not that bad i swear), also like mega soft hoonie

genre/au: fluff, boyfriend!sunghoon au

word count: 1.4k

summary: build-a-bear is a cliche and old thing that couple do. only lame people would go there to build a bear when it's obviously easier to just buy one.. so tell me why THE Park Sunghoon just so happens to be there, enjoying the fact that he's building a bear... whipped af

sidenote: pls don't question where my mind's at these days, idk either. like this idea legit just popped outta nowhere and has been stuck for like a week. i had to do it, i had to so deal with it. sunghoon's cute like this anyway, also hoping he isn't super ooc in this, i tried my best y'all

Sunghoon is a man with a lot of pride. That pride slowly increased as the years went by and never stopped to fall. It rose from ice skating, it rose from his fangirls at college, and it definitely rose when and as he dates you. But right now, his pride is easily being challenged by a stuffed animal store. What exactly is he looking at right now?

“Ya! What the fuck is this nightmare of a store?” He felt his feet halt at the sight of the -what’s a nice way to describe it- childish looking store. Well that’s way better compared to what he did say. His eyes are wide and figure is just frozen cause he definitely did not see this as part of his day when he said that you could take him anywhere.

“What do you mean? It’s build-a-bear, it’s cute.” You replied in a questioning tone. You tug at his arm trying to pull him inside the store but it gets progressively harder as if he doesn’t want to go in.

“It looks stupid.” You knew it, this wasn’t the ideal place to go to.

You frown at his response and let go of his hand with a huff, “you look stupid. If you really don’t wanna go in then I won’t force you to. I just thought it would be fun to do together.” Maybe you should’ve picked a different place for the two of you to go to instead of something so immature. You probably look like such a childish significant other in his eyes right now. Great…

He looked over at you and felt his figure slump at your down state. Was this build-a-bear thing such a bad thing that he would shut it down before even trying it? For others, maybe. But for you, no way. He likes you too much for that. So he lifted your chin and forced a smile, “I want to do it, just don’t expect me to be too into it. Just want you to have fun.”

“REALLY HOONIE!? You’re serious about this, promise?” With a slight nod of his head, you beamed your smile at him and excitedly dragged him into the store. This’ll be fun, right?

Oh boy were you soooo right! You and Sunghoon had only entered the workshop around 15 minutes ago and anyone can obviously see how much you’re enjoying it so far, but what you didn’t expect was to see your boyfriend enjoying just as much as you. Maybe even a little bit more. The way he paid so much attention to the worker who explained what to do first since you were both first time build-a-bear makers, or maybe how he said how you two should surprise each other with your build-a-bear and see who made a better one like it was a competition. Nevertheless, you agreed to his proposition.

So here you are, looking around the store trying to find a design you think would be best. Frogs, nope. Bunnies, cute but no. Unicorns, why. Everything seemed so basic and incomplete until there, your build-a-bear chilling on the second shelf. A little penguin.

Awwww, it’s so cute! It kinda looks like Sunghoon. My ice prince and my ice related animal, makes sense

“You are way too cute not to get! Come on, let’s go get you all plush and personalised.” You happily walk over to the worker and move onto the next step, the worker instructing you to do this silly but amusing heart warming ceremony for your almost stuffed penguin. Rubbing the plastic heart between your hands and giving the heart a wish for your plush was one of the most entertaining things to do. Screw being childish, this was terrific and you didn’t care. And it seems as though your boyfriend doesn’t care either since he comes rushing over to you with an unstuffed bear and a huge grin on his face.

“I FOUND IT!! I found the perfect one to get, a classic with my personal touch. I am definitely winning this!” He confidently handed it to the worker and worked on his heart warming ceremony. A serious look on his face as he warmed up the plastic heart in his hands, rubbing it on the fully stuffed animal to create memories, promising to care for his new build-a-bear, and sealing that promise with a kiss.

HE’S SO CUTE OMG!! HOON YOU ARE SO CUTE LIKE THIS, STUPID MY ASS, YOU ARE THE SOFTEST BOYFRIEND EVER

After everything was done, the workers placed the hearts in each stuffed animal and closed them up before handing them to you. You both thanked them before looking at each other with determination in both of your eyes. “Sorry Hoonie, but I think I won this one. I got a penguin while you got a basic bear.”

He loudly gasped at your words, hands over his heart before placing the bear’s paw over their heart. “How could you? My bear is not basic! He is a classic with a customised scarf as a personal accessory. I for sure won this challenge, step down babe.”

“How does adding a scarf make it that much better, Hoon?”

He froze. “Hoon?” He bit his lip and turned his head to the side, not noticing that his cheeks and ears began to turn the lightest shade of red. “Hoon~, wanna answer me?” You teasingly ask him, closing the distance between the two of you. “Please..”

“IgavehimasimilarscarftotheoneIgaveyouwhenwestarteddatingandiputourinitialsonthescarfaswell…” Sunghoon said quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. This is embarrassing, too embarrassing for him.

“Sunghoon, I understand nothing from that. Could you repeat it again, a little slower this time?”

“Ishhhhh, okay. I gave him a similar scarf to the one I gave you when we started dating and I put our initials on the scarf as well…” His blush deepened to the point he started covering his face with his hands. You bit your lip in pure amusement and happiness.

Yep, I’m right. My boyfriend is the cutest thing ever, I love him so much

“Can I see?” He hurriedly nodded and pushed the bear in your direction. The classic brown bear with a different colour for the heart shaped paws and the scarf that did indeed have both of your initials in it. PSH <3 Y/N. You could feel your heart melt at the sight of something so simple yet weirdly touching. This man is too much for your heart. “You win, Hoonie. I-I don’t think I can beat this.”

He peeked out of the gaps between his fingers, “really?” He saw your nod and your shy smile and started smirking at you all smug like. “You really like it, huh?”

You push his face away and begin to walk towards the counter to pay for the build-a-bears, “don’t get too cocky, Park Sunghoon!” He followed after you with a loud laugh. “Oh yeah, what do you think we should name them?”

“Tofu for the penguin and Mapo for the bear?”

“Like mapo tofu, the dish? Just why?”

“Because mapo tofu is two parts that make a great dish together, just like how you and I make a great couple together and plus we made these build-a-bears together… also I’m kind of craving some mapo tofu right now.” You slapped his shoulder and chuckled at his dorky analogy. Mapo and Tofu, kind of cute.

“Hoon, do you still want to buy them some clothes?”

“Nah, I’m kind of tired. Spent too much time trying to win the competition. We can just buy them clothes next time if we want to and order some takeout at home..” He handed over his credit card and waited for the cashier to place the stuffed animals in the bags before heading out the store with you.

“So there’s a next time?” You cheekily grinned at him. You can see that shy smile that only shows when he’s admitting to something he judged too quickly but enjoyed.

“Maybe… It wasn’t so bad going to build-a-bear with you.” He wasn’t lying, it was pretty entertaining. Especially since he saw just how happy you looked while getting your penguin. It wasn’t so much that building a bear was fun but more on how fun it was to be with you. Okay, he’s lying a bit. Maybe building his own bear was pretty fun. But he won’t admit it. Cause who would ever think that the so-called ice prince would be so into building a bear?

I hope you all enjoyed reading this random fic, I'm hoping it was okay. All support is very much appreciated <;33

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solarmorrigan · 9 months

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(Slight disclaimer: I haven't seen S2 in almost a year and parts of it are hazy, so if some details here seem repetitive/don't quite match up... don't worry about it, I love you <3)

cw: anxiety, mentions of past child abuse

Steve had not, for the record, wanted to spend his Saturday tromping around by the stream in the woods searching for tadpoles. He’d wanted to go to the movies, or maybe get lunch, or even just hang out, but Dustin had insisted, and now Steve is slopping through the muddy grass and trying to figure out if there’s any way he can get them home without getting the inside of his car filthy.

(Probably not.)

It’s not that he’s opposed to getting his hands dirty when he needs to, it’s just that hunting for baby frogs doesn’t seem like a need to Steve, no matter what Dustin says. He probably shouldn’t be such a pushover for the kid, but– Steve’s actually a little worried about him.

He’s been in a nasty mood for the last couple of weeks, alternating between snappish and sullen, throwing biting comments at Steve that go beyond his usual know-it-all lilt, or else going silent and only shrugging when Steve tries to ask him questions.

And Steve’s trying not to take it personally; they’d hung out a lot through the winter and on into the new spring, and he knows Dustin isn’t normally like this, and he doesn’t think it’s anything he’s done (Dustin keeps seeking him out, so it’s probably not him), but it’s definitely something. So when Dustin had actually suggested something for them to do, had actually seemed excited about it, Steve had been hard pressed to say no.

Even if it meant mud.

“Hey,” Steve calls as Dustin pulls ahead of him to start climbing down the embankment that pens in the stream. “Watch it, alright? It’s slippery.”

“I know what I’m doing, Steve,” Dustin snaps, and Steve can practically hear him rolling his eyes.

“Fine, sorry for giving a shit if you break your leg or something,” Steve mutters, beginning the precarious trip down the embankment himself. “You don’t have to bite my head off.”

Dustin sighs. “Whatever.”

Steve shakes his head. He really hopes this isn’t just the start of puberty, or something. He doesn’t think he can handle another four or five years of this attitude.

(He doesn’t even question it anymore, the assumption that he’ll be around as Dustin continues growing up; it just seems like kind of a given.)

“So what are we doing here, again?” Steve asks when they reach the stream.

“I told you: we’re looking for tadpoles.” Dustin tosses a glance at Steve. “Baby frogs.”

“Yeah, dude, I know what a tadpole is, I did actually pass second grade science,” Steve snarks back. “Why are we looking for them, though?”

“I need them for school. For a science project,” Dustin says, peeling off to start looking in the shallow edges of the stream.

“Right…” Steve moves off in the opposite direction, looking for the shape of a thing he remembers seeing in a science textbook probably too many years ago.

They search in silence for a little bit, nothing but the sound of the woods and babble of water between them, but Steve keeps half his attention on Dustin even as he looks. If the kid falls in the stream and drowns, Claudia will never forgive him. He twitches a little when he watches Dustin skid over a rocky patch on the bank, but he finds his footing quickly enough, so Steve keeps his mouth shut.

“You’re not gonna, like, experiment on these things, are you?” Steve asks idly, finally tiring of the silence.

“Of course not!” Dustin exclaims. “I’m just gonna study ‘em. I’ll give them a good home and everything!”

“Alright, alright.” Steve holds up his hands in surrender. “Just checking that it’s not going to end up like the last time you brought in something weird from outside.”

Dustin stops walking, going quiet for a long moment, and when he turns around Steve is startled to see that he looks pissed.

“I’m not actually an idiot, Steve!” he barks. “I can tell the difference between a frog and some kind of alien monster!”

“Okay, sorry, I didn’t–”

“It’s not like I saw D’art and thought he was anything from around here!” Dustin goes on, stalking back towards Steve. “I didn’t think he was just some kind of fucked up frog! I knew he was something different, there was scientific merit in wanting to study him, and I’m sick of everyone acting like it was just some stupid mistake!”

“I didn’t mean to– Careful!”

Steve has no time to do much more than shout a warning and throw out a useless hand as Dustin goes skidding back over the slick, rocky patch, then slips and goes down hard, catching himself on his hands and one knee.

“Shit, Henderson, are you okay?” Steve is kneeling in front of Dustin in a blink, already searching for visible injuries; he’s probably fine, it hadn’t looked like he’d hit anything vital on the way down, but it couldn’t hurt to just check.

Dustin doesn’t move, his head still hanging between his shoulders, his back so tense he’s almost trembling, and worry starts to bloom in the pit of Steve’s stomach.

“Henderson?” Steve tries again, and that’s when he hears it – the sniffle.

Shit.

“Hey. Dustin,” Steve says, slipping into the same calm, firm register he uses when he’s lifeguarding, without even realizing he’s done it (honestly, he’d had to deal with a lot more kids with scraped knees than he had potential drowning victims when he’d worked at the public pool); he cups his hand over the back of Dustin’s neck, squeezing gently to get his attention. “I need you to let me see. I need to make sure you’re alright.”

Slowly, Dustin shifts so that he’s sitting with both knees bent in front of him, though he keeps his head bent down – and that’s fine, Steve won’t make him look up just yet. Instead, he does a quick inspection of everything else; both of Dustin’s palms are a little scraped up, and one is bleeding a bit, but it’s his knee that got the worst of it. It looks like it caught and scraped on the sharp edge of a rock, leaving a bleeding strip of skin that curves across the surface of it.

(It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if Dustin hadn’t insisted on wearing shorts in March, but whatever. Now really isn’t the time to argue about practical fashion.)

“Okay, this looks like a pretty shallow scrape. I bet it stings like hell, but it’ll be a million times better once we get it cleaned up,” Steve says, framing the wound with gentle fingers, careful to avoid the drip of blood streaming down Dustin’s shin.

Still, Dustin says nothing. He’s practically trembling now, sniffling again, and Steve frowns.

“Did you hurt yourself anywhere else?” he asks.

Dustin shakes his head.

“Are you sure? Did you hit your head when you went down? You should let me–”

“I’m not hurt, Steve, Jesus fucking Christ!” Dustin snaps, finally looking up; his cheeks are red and his eyes are watery and he’s clearly trying hard to hold everything in, so Steve does his best not to rock the boat too hard.

“Okay,” he says, low and smooth, still stuck halfway in crisis management mode, “then can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Everything!” Dustin chokes. “Fucking everything is wrong, okay? I keep – I keep having nightmares and I feel like I haven’t slept in weeks and I’m so tired.” He loses the fight with his tears and they finally spill over, running down his face. “And my mom was talking about Mews the other day, like, just stuff he used to do, and she misses him even though we have Tews, and sometimes I feel like I killed the stupid cat, and I just–”

“Shit, dude, I’m sorry.” Steve reaches up and cups his hand right at the juncture of Dustin’s shoulder and neck, giving him another gentle squeeze. “You didn’t kill your cat, okay?”

Dustin gives a congested snort that’s distinctly lacking in his usual derision. “Yeah, I know that about the same as I know there’s nothing coming to get me at night, but I still can’t sleep.” He sniffs again, reaching up and trying to smear his tears away with the back of his hand. “I’m so done with this, I just– I want it to be over. It’s supposed to be over.”

There’s a little tremor in Dustin’s voice, and Steve’s heart breaks a little bit, because he knows exactly what Dustin means – he knows what the nightmares are like, he knows the guilt over things you can’t change, he knows the feeling of jumping at shadows. And fuck, the kid’s still so young.

(Never mind that Steve’s not even scraping nineteen yet. Never mind that.)

He should probably talk to an actual professional, or something—get some real help—but Steve isn’t sure there’s anyone out there that Dustin can talk to about government coverups and literal monsters from a hell dimension beneath their town. He’s not sure if there’s anyone even qualified. And while Steve sure as hell doesn’t feel qualified to do anything, either, he’d been there with Dustin when it happened, and he’s here with Dustin now, so he’s going to do his best.

“Okay, c’mere,” Steve says, giving one of Dustin’s arms a tug.

Dustin doesn’t argue, doesn’t even question him, and that’s almost more alarming than anything else; he follows Steve a few feet over to a grassy patch at the foot of the embankment and leans heavily into Steve’s side when they sit down again. The grass is a little wet, but Steve doesn’t even feel it as he wraps an arm around Dustin’s back and pulls him closer.

They spend a minute with Dustin’s face half buried in Steve’s shoulder before Dustin gives a muffled grunt of annoyance and tries to pull away. “This is bullshit,” he mutters.

Steve quashes the way he wants to flinch at the declaration and looks down at Dustin instead. “What?”

“Sitting here crying my ass off. It’s stupid. I’m being a baby,” Dustin says, trying to wipe his face clean even as more tears replace the ones he’s just dried away.

“It’s not stupid. Crying is normal,” Steve says.

Dustin scoffs, still trying to pull out of Steve’s hold, but Steve keeps a hand in the middle of his back, unwilling to let him go far.

“I’m serious,” Steve insists. “It’s, like, a normal body reaction, or something. It happens. People cry.”

“You don’t,” Dustin shoots back, and Steve can’t help the instinctive huff of this-isn’t-actually-funny-at-all laughter.

“Yeah, man, because I’m kinda fucked up.”

It’s clearly not the reaction Dustin is expecting, and he stares up at Steve with furrowed brows. “What?”

And– well, fair’s fair, isn’t it? Dustin told Steve what’s bothering him, so Steve can open up a little bit in return, can’t he?

Besides, he can’t really think of any other way to convince Dustin that he’s not just pulling some cool, tough guy shit.

No, he doesn’t stop to cry, but it’s hardly even a choice anymore.

“I used to cry really easily, actually,” Steve says, looking away from Dustin and staring out at the stream instead. “Like, over everything. Literally cried over a glass of milk I spilled once.”

Dustin gives a wet huff of laughter, and Steve allows himself the tug of a quick smile.

“My dad fucking hated it. He was always telling me to stop whining, stop crying, stop acting like–” –a little bitch, Steven. Alright, maybe Dustin didn’t need to hear everything his dad had said to him. “He said I needed to toughen up, be a man. The last time I really cried, I was, like, nine, I think? I don’t even remember what it was over, I just remember that it pissed my dad off. And he said he’d give me something to cry about, and, uh–”

Steve can feel Dustin going tense under his palm, as if he’s afraid of what comes next, and that’s fine. Steve has no problem stopping there; it’s not a story he’d relish retelling in its entirety.

“Anyway, after that, I just kinda… made myself stop. Just like he wanted. And honestly?” Steve blows out a breath, still staring hard at the stream. “It just makes everything worse, holding that shit in. Makes you feel like shit.”

Makes you want to make other people feel like shit, too, because at least it’s an outlet.

“So, whatever. ‘Be a man.’ That’s bullshit.” Steve has known for years that his dad is an asshole, that the things he says are shit, and maybe he’s never known what to do in the face of it, maybe he’s never reacted in a way that’s healthy or even safe, but that doesn’t mean he has to spread the disease around. “Don’t be like me, man, be like you. Cry if you have to.”

Slowly, Dustin wilts back into Steve’s side, curling up under his arm and burying his face half in Steve’s shoulder again.

“You’re actually really smart sometimes,” Dustin mumbles against Steve’s shirt, and Steve snorts.

“Yeah, once in a while I might have some shit worth listening to.”

Dustin’s shoulders start shaking again, so Steve slings his arm more tightly around his back, and Dustin wraps an arm around his middle and clutches at Steve’s sweatshirt. At this point, it’s probably beyond stained with mud and snot and the blood from Dustin’s palms, but Steve can’t really bring himself to care. It’s not like it’s his favorite.

It isn’t the most comfortable place for a breakdown; March in Indiana is still chilly, and the grass is still damp, and the ground is hard, and Dustin’s cap keeps jabbing Steve in the collarbone, but Steve isn’t going to move until Dustin is ready. So they stay a while.

(Steve does end up knocking Dustin’s cap off, because it really is annoying, but he can’t help the little trill of fondness that goes through his chest when he realizes that he can faintly smell the shampoo he’d recommended to him.)

Finally, Dustin pulls away with a heavy sigh, snatching his hat back up and placing it firmly on his head, and Steve takes that to mean that it’s time to go.

“Alright, I’ve got a first aid kit in the car, and I think we can at least tape you together long enough to get back to my house,” Steve says, heaving himself up off the ground.

“We didn’t find any tadpoles, though,” Dustin says, looking back at the stream. “I seriously do need some for my project.”

“We can come back tomorrow,” Steve says, even though he really doesn’t want to spend his Sunday tromping around by the stream in the woods searching for tadpoles.

“Yeah?” Dustin aims a hopeful little smile up at him. “Can I stay over?”

Steve shrugs. “If your mom says it’s fine, yeah.”

(They both know she will.)

“Awesome.” Dustin grins, but it’s a pale shadow of its usual intensity; the kid looks wrung out.

Steve glances up the embankment and then looks back at Dustin.

“Hey,” he says. “You want a lift?”

Dustin, who had been preparing to start the climb back up, looks over at him in confusion. “What?”

“Up the hill.” Steve jerks his head towards the incline.

“How?”

“Piggyback ride. One-time offer.”

“Dude, it’s steep as shit. And I just had a growth spurt,” Dustin scoffs. “There’s no way you can carry me up that thing.”

Steve smirks. “Wanna bet?”

“What do I win?” Dustin asks.

“You get to pick the movie when we get back to my house,” Steve offers.

Dustin chews it over for a moment, then nods. “Deal.”

“Deal.” Steve kneels down. “Hop on. And try not to choke me.”

When Steve stands up again, Dustin settled against his back, he realizes he may have slightly overestimated his own abilities; light, Dustin is not (the kid’s almost fourteen now, Jesus H. Christ), but Steve isn’t one to back down from a challenge.

He starts up the embankment.

“When I win, after you drop us both back down the hill,” Dustin says, “I’m gonna pick Ghostbusters.”

Steve groans. They’ve watched that movie a hundred times now, and he has his limits. “When we get to the top, and I win, I’m going to pick anything but Ghostbusters.”

“Dream on, Steve,” Dustin pats his chest, and Steve keeps climbing.

They’re about halfway up when Dustin laughs in his ear, clutching more tightly around Steve’s neck as the incline gets steeper. “Holy shit, you’re actually doing it!”

“Told you,” Steve says, proudly sounding only a little strained.

He does have to drop Dustin’s legs and use his hands to make sure he doesn’t lose his balance when they get near the top, which does result in Dustin choking him, but Steve gets his revenge by wiping the excess mud on his palms off on the front of Dustin’s shorts once they get over the edge of the embankment.

(“Dude, what the hell!”

“You were already muddy!”)

Still, Dustin laughs and chatters all the way back to the car, still a little more quietly than usual, but Steve doesn’t think he’s seen him smile this much in weeks, so the strain he can already feel setting up in his legs and back is probably worth it.

And they will not be watching Ghostbusters (again) when they get back to his house, but maybe he’ll pick one of the Star Wars movies instead.

He can’t fix everything for Dustin, but he can at least make sure they have a good night – and sometimes, that’s good enough.

[Prompt: Piggyback rides]

#steve harrington #dustin henderson #steve & dustin #brotherly steve harrington and dustin henderson #stranger things #steve harrington vs. toxic masculinity: round 1 #no really this is soft as hell I promise #there are hugs #solar wrote

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bouncybongfairy · 3 months

Text

Better Off Dead

Rich Sanchez x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: After getting into a blow out fight with your mom, you decompress at Summer's house party. While tripping balls, you mistake Rick for God. What better way to worship someone than by offering them your body?

Word Count: 1.0k+

Account Ref: @kaionyx

TW: Rough Smut, Intox kink, Worship kink, Degradation kink

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You slammed the door and sat on the bed. Wiping tears from your eyes after getting into an argument with your mother. Hearing the front door slam, you looked out the window and saw her getting in the car. You knew that even if she came in trying to reconcile you wouldn’t have accepted the olive branch. It was still kinda bitchy that she didn’t bother to try. After wiping the tears off your face, you unlock your phone. Wanting to distract yourself from the fight and stumbling across Summer’s story. She was throwing a party tonight, an open invitation to the entire highschool. It almost felt like fate placed a golden egg right in your lap. What better way to cope with mommy issues than blacking out at a friends party. Without wasting any time, you started getting ready. Blowing out your hair and trying hard to make sure every step of your makeup routine was done just right. Going into your mom’s liquor cabinet and taking an oversized bottle of Kirkland vodka. Kind of like a symbolic middle finger to her.

Even though you were reckless you didn’t drive your car to Summer’s. The point of going to this party was to get white girl wasted. So there was no point of risking getting a towing company sicked on you by disgruntled neighbors. You could hear frogs and crickets as you walked towards the front door. The lawn was already covered with trash and several inebriated life forms passed out in the grass. It felt like an out of body experience, Summer greeted you. The fact that she remembered who you were was quite flattering. Immediately you made your way towards the kitchen. Getting yourself a healthy amount of liquor before going back out to socialize. You recognized several people from your school but instead of peers they were bodies to dance on. Tonight you didn’t give a fuck, wanting to push the envelope. Trying to see what’s past recklessness and blacked out. After four shots, a joint, and a bump of an unknown substance you were close to finding out.

Rick was sitting on the couch, watching you dance. Humored by how many girlfriends you were making, flustered and jealous. Eventually you’d run out of young men to dance with, now moving onto girls. It was obvious to him that you crave attention, what surprised him was how self aware you were. Not acting drunk for your peers but just slowly numbing yourself with liquor and music. He watched Summer throw these parties a million times over. He knew the difference between parting for social status vs. the need for emotional numbing. Bringing his bottle and taking a couple swigs before getting up and heading towards the garage. The night was getting wilder, Summer invited you into her room. You were promised drugs would be involved, so of course you followed. She explained that it was powder from some crystal she got from her grandpa. It came with some type of warning but you ignored it.

The minute the powder went into your nose you felt electric. Like you were moving at slow and ultra speed at the same time. You stumble into the bathroom and set your arms on the vanity. Making the mistake of staring at yourself in the mirror. Not being able to ignore how much you look like your mother. Tears flooded into your eyes and you forced yourself to go back down stairs. Stumbling down and making your way into the garage becoming overstimulated by the environment. Slamming the door and being taken back by how quiet it was. Now getting into your feelings, wondering why God would give you such a fucked up mother and life. Picking up something from the shelf on your right and throwing it.

“YO! What the fuck!” Rick yelled, making you jump and stumble and fall onto your knees, “What the fuck is your problem,” he said, standing above you.

You looked up at Rick, who was standing in front of the light coming off his work bench. The spikes in his hair were creating shadows that looked like beams of light. The way Jesus is depicted most of the time. Crawling over to him and putting your hands at his feet while looking up to him. Rick felt all the blood in his brain flood into his dick. Lips red and swollen from crying and mascara stained tears running down the sides of your face. Skin covered in goosebumps, jaw chattering and pupils so dilated you couldn’t tell what color your eyes are.

“What did I do to deserve such a f-fucked up life? I swear if you fix it I'll do a-anything you want. I promise I'll be a good girl -hiccup- from now on, I’ll pray to you every night I s-swear,” you pleaded, now putting your hands together.

“Holy fuck,” Rick muttered to himself hungerly as a smirk grew on his face; bringing his hand down and running his thumb over your cheek. Wiping one of your tears away before responding,

“If you want me to be your God I will but, I am warning you now: I expected a lot more than devotion, I want to own you from the inside out,” he growled, grabbing your jaw. Making you look up at him while responding.

“Whatever you say,” you said, scooting closer to him.

With that he wrapped his hands around your throat. Slowly tightening his grip more and more, you brought your hands to rest on him but didn’t protest. Barely audible sounds were squeaking out of your throat as you struggled to breath. You were beginning to see stars and your ears were roaring, making all sounds become muffled. The light in your eyes was fading, humoring Rick,

“You wanna die for me? You wanna die for your god?” he asked, in a cooing voice. Nodding your head before turning a corner, becoming less conscious.

He finally let go, picking your body off the ground and draping you over his desk. Using an exacto knife and cutting your panties off. Rolling your skirt up before undressing himself. Finally letting his cock breath after being strained against his boxers. Reaching down and getting a thick coating of your wetness to use as lube for his cock. He lines himself up and pushes his cock into you. Slowly at first, admiring the way your walls were gripping his shaft.

“Wake up, God’s blessing you with a gift, don’t be rude,” he said, slapping you face a couple times. He groaned as you started waking up and spasming around him. Not being able to stop his hips from fucking into you, “Fuck you’re so damn tight, like your pussy doesn’t want to let me go,” he chuckled before picking up the pace.

Gripping the desk because of the amount of pleasure you were in. Hearing the slapping noises as he used your body however he wanted. The way he degraded you while breaking you on his cock was driving you crazy. Clenching around him every time he bottomed out, your body involuntarily milking his shaft. His nails were digging into the soft skin of your hips. Fucking you at an animalistic pace, unwilling to give you any mercy. Eventually your moans turned into begging, you muttering out desperate little cries like ‘oh god' and ‘please’ as he used your hole.

“Keep begging and praying to me, it only makes me want to destroy you more,” Rick grunted as his thrusts became more frantic. His hips start jerking as he cums deep into your pussy. Pressing himself as far into you as he could while claiming you. The feeling of his thick, warm ropes of cum pooling inside you sends you over the edge. Your walls are quivering around his sensitive cock. After catching his breath, he pulls out. Admiring your destroyed pussy as his cum leaked out of it. Taking his two fingers and gathering a good amount of his load onto them. Leaning over and shoving them into your mouth and throat. Slapping you when you spit it out, rubbing it on your entire face. This immediately takes you out of your daze for a couple moments.

“Spitting out your God’s offering? What happened to your promise about being a good girl?” was the last thing you heard him say before passing out.

#rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez x y/n #rick sanchez x you #rick sanchez x fem reader #rough smut #rick sanchez x reader smut #rick sanchez x you smut #rick sanchez x y/n smut #god rick sanchez #rick sanchez smut #hot rick sanchez #rick sanchez c137 #rick sanchez fanfic

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not-magdi · 8 months

Text

Face Masks

Summary: Pablo discovering the wonderful world of face masks

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x fem!reader

Warnings: none just pure fluff

Words: 534

Skincare was extremely important to you. You enjoyed having a nightly routine, which helped you stay calm and sane despite your hectic life with your boyfriend, Pablo Gavi.

You have your serums and your creams all nicely lined up on the bathroom shelf. All organized by colours and sizes, it's your little happy place.

Pablo didn't understand it at first, not getting behind the idea of standing an hour in the bathroom, smearing different things on your face. But after you explained their importance to you, he accepted it. He still doesn't understand it but learns to live with it.

You're currently standing in your holy bathroom, applying a face mask to your face, as you feel two hands snake around your waist.

"When are you coming to bed amor.?"

"Soon, I'm almost done."

Dipping his finger in the container, he plays with the mask and draws a disgusted face.

"And you put that on your face because you want to?"

You chuckle and nod your head, finishing applying it to your face. Then, an idea sparked in your mind.

"Hey, can I apply some to your face?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Come on, pleaseeeeee?"

You try to give him your best puppy-dog eyes, and not surprising you at all, it takes exactly one minute for him to budge.

"Fineee, but my face better be as soft as a baby's butt after this"

You celebrate your success for a second before you beckon him to sit on the counter before you. Finding the most stupid headband you own, you put it in his head.

Taking a step back, you admire how your boyfriend looked with his hair all put-back. You started to laugh at the sight before you. He looked like a little kid with his little frog headband.

"You having fun, cariño?"

"Yes, very much."

Composing yourself, you start to apply the mask to his face. Which was harder than you might think because that little shit kept trying to move away all the goddam time.

"Amor, that's cold!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Beauty is pain, baby. Beauty is pain."

After you finished applying the mask to his face, you took a good look at your artwork. It was the cutest thing you have ever seen in your entire life.

Pablo's face, completely covered in a white face mask, with a pout on his lips, was a sight that was now permanently burned in your brain.

Grabbing your phone, you take a photo of this sight to post it afterwards.

"Really, you gonna take a photo of my suffering?"

"Yes, now come here. I wanna take a selfie too."

You take a few selfies and cuddle up on the bed to wait until the masks are dry.

"Amor, are they supposed to burn?"

"Uhh, yeees?"

You let out a sigh of relief as you hear the timer go off. Dragging Pablo to the bathroom, you wash the mask off his face, chuckling at his surprised face, when he feels how soft his skin got.

"Dios mio, it's so soft!"

"I know, face masks are awesome right?"

"Sí, cariño, we need to do this more often OK?!"

Laughing, you nod your head, kissing his cheek, happy how excited he got over face masks.

your_username

Liked by pedrigonzáles, mikkykiemeney and 430.000 others

your_username couldn't convince him to keep the headband 😂

tagged: pablogavi

pablogavi: love you ❤️ and my soft skin

pedrigonzáles: Stylisch hermano 😂

⎮pablogavi: Ey, your skin is gonna thank you afterwards

pablitooogavi: Not Pablo being obsessed with face masks 😂

⎜liked by pablogavi

mikkykiemeney: How did you get him to do that?!

⎜your_username: I bribed him with food

user7325384: Hahah, I love them

fcbarçalover: Couple goaaalllllsss!!

gaviisthebest: If they break up I'm gonna need therapy

⎜liked by your_username

#pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi oneshot #pablo gavi x you #gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi #gavi x you

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sheawritesstuff · 4 months

Text

Redacted Couples as Things My Partner & I Do

✩ Whenever Sweetheart’s head is on Milo’s chest and he wants to show them something he flexes his pecs until they lift their head up to look

✩ When Aaron is stressed, Smartass plays with his hair to turn his brain off - he whines if they stop but he’ll never admit it

✩ Angel smacks David’s ass any time he even slightly bends over

✩ When Lasko is in an overthinking spiral Coworker gently holds the sides of his face and takes deep breaths with him until he’s calmed down enough to talk about it

✩ Darlin’ bites Sam’s finger if it gets too close to their mouth and then just holds it in their teeth as long as possible without biting too hard

✩ Any time Damien is standing at the counter while making food, Huxley comes behind him and almost completely envelopes him - chest pressed against his back, arms wrapped around his waist, and head nuzzled against his neck

✩ Avior is a tummy kisser, Starlight is a hand kisser

✩ Instead of just telling Ollie when they don’t understand the game/show/movie he’s talking about, Coworker just blankly stares and frog blinks until he stops and re-explains the confusing part

✩ Asher and Baabe hold hands whenever they walk almost anywhere together, including just moving from room to room in their apartment

✩ Guy showing Honey his music playlists and taking them to concerts, even if they don’t know or particularly like the band, is one of his favorite ways to connect with them and show them his love

✩ On special occasions, Anton makes little snacks for My Love to take to work with them, even though he’s not super confident in his food-making abilities

✩ Freelancer has had to convince Gavin to put temperature-appropriate clothing on more times than they can count - he would go shirtless all the time if he could

✩ When Lovely gets flustered by Vincent’s flirting and looks away, he gently holds their chin and makes them look at him

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velvetmud · 8 months

Text

a/n- combining a couple requests for some ass play and ball stuff and more subby joel. pwp basically

hot for teacher

warning(s): explicit 18+, ass eating, blowjobs, size kink, dirty stuff, professor/student au, dirty talk, sub joel vibe

Joel’s classroom was unusually empty before she approached. Vacant of prodding eyes or witnesses. The ordinary buzz from leftover college students mingling or shuffling upcoming assignments on their desks wasn’t to be seen or heard.

He could’ve heard a pin drop on the floor up until she came back to see him after class. Her infamous silhouette nears his office, tip toeing closer. Her presence becoming known has Joel ungluing his bloodshot eyes from the endless papers he’s been tasked to grade.

She didn’t have to say anything to get what she wants, never has to say so much as a word—communicating to him on a single-stare basis. He could read it, hyper aware of how ticklish her thighs seemed to get, rubbing them together with a stature of innocence at his doorway. Dressed to the nines like a proper schoolgirl, like something out of one of his at-home pipe dreams.

Four minutes, ‘cause yes he counted, four entire minutes before she was crawling her way on him. Deliberate little pecks and dewy kisses sprinkled along his weak spots. Behind his ears, down his neck. She could fish out any kind of moan or sound out of him. All’s it took was one look and a designated spot for alone time.

“Baby, fuck… what’re we doing?” he grunts down the thrum of her ear, tired rasp evident in his throat being one of the biggest telltale signs of his age. That mixed with his salt and pepper grays sprouting from his scalp, along with the shit grump attitude. Except when she takes a seat in his lap, or pulls out his cock and jams it down her throat.

Visible mischief simmers through the blacks of her eyes, nibbling down on her puffy lower lip while her hips find figure eight rhythms moving on him. Serving her purpose to uncomfortably shrink the room left in the crotch of his pants. Getting tighter and tighter the more his cock fills up.

Joel might’ve been a grower too, but his girth alone was more than enough to split any pussy open even while he was soft. She missed the weight of it, missed physically feeling down the smooth skin as it hardens and grows.

“Gonna get us caught messin’ around in here like this,” he whimpers. Paired with the look on his face, he sounded something akin to a helpless, frightened deer she might see on the side of the road. It’s quite the contrast to his domineering presence as a professor, as Mister M, the only side of him her classmates knew. He didn’t do this with any other student, nor for any purpose other than the screaming wanting. The pressing need to feed her his cum, to kiss and fuck and drink her pussy until she��s resorted to an irrevocable pliant vegetable beneath him, gasping and clawing at him. Begging whether it was for him to slow it down or speed it up.

Despite the opposing words slipping out of his mouth, aimless complaints leading nowhere as he amps up his attack on the salty skin of her neck. Goes as far as starting to fiddle absentmindedly with the buttons attached to her shirt.

“What’d they say if they saw you on me like this, baby? Spread out all over your professor’s lap, making a man as old as me this fucking hard,” he trails down his palm to grab the brick of a bulge to demonstrate.

She gasps when she peers down a little. Coy. As if she hasn’t seen his size before. Hasn’t grabbed it, choked on it, made herself cum on it before.

Every time she rings an orgasm out of him it feels like another first time. Every area she tries memorizing still vastly unexplored and new to young eyes. He has a decent number of years on her, that much was self explanatory—and all over his body those precious years bloomed right on display—unique patterns of scars and moles dusting his skin beautifully.

Harsh gasps of surprise follow up his own unanswered question, the frog in his throat seizing any other words to form in his mouth. He doesn’t dare do anything as he holds his stare down at her. Watches helplessly as she ducks down, hurrying those tricky fingers of hers to find the button of his slacks. Finally freeing his pulsing member all to use and smother for her enjoyment. Her play time, practically—what with the way she licks her lips just peaking down at it. Naked in all its glory.

Drool surely starts to pool in and fill the bowl of her mouth as she gawks at the sheer size. Slapped and straining tall against Joel’s abdomen, leaky and primal as it jumps and bobs. Her pussy drools as the pit of arousal pinches her stomach, easily gushing more waves just at the visual alone.

Joel witnessed it all, her eager tongue and wide eyes. Inflating his ego while simultaneously painting a flush to his cheeks.

“Got you actin’ like I just dangled a piece of candy right in front of you.”

The comment spreads a grin on her face as she dips her head down lower, lower. Surrounding herself in the pure, unadultered musk of his sack.

“A big piece of candy. A really really big piece of candy,” she corrects, all devious smiles while she massages the inner thighs of his thick lap with the pads of her fingers. When he’s focused he can feel the moisturizer she must’ve been using, slick friction of skin sliding on skin. Omitting any further warning she takes a ball in her mouth and jacks his length, sly tongue marking a trail of wet squiggles as she teases and teases and fuck.

A series of loud hissing spills and tumbles out from him, nearly sounding like he’d just been burned. Because of course, she’d find another one of his prime fucking weak spots.

Joel thinks he doesn’t stand a chance looking down but he has no choice left, high levels of both giddiness and trepidation as he peers down at her fucking face. Sultry sin behind her eyes, wet mouth and gorgeous lips giving his cock a jaw dropping tongue bath.

After the first time she shucked his pants down to his ankles and took everything she wanted from him, he couldn’t so much as glance at her in class. Couldn’t randomly call on her to answer one of his prompts right in front of her peers of students anymore, just to watch her shy squirming unfold. Couldn’t offer her any extra help to study his material after hours. All’s he could do was hold on for the ride when he recognized that same look in her eye whenever class wrapped.

She licks the first taste of his salty twang off her lips, surely proving his proclamation true that she’s ready to dig in like he’s just a human piece of candy.

Her tongue wiggles down lower, reaching the sensitive outer ring of his ass on her next long slurp, teasing just enough pressure and stimulation to make it ache deep in his belly as he holds on to the last slice of resistance.

“Easy,” he bites, feeling her mouth suck down harder than a powered vacuum as she begins her latest devious plan to feast on him. “wanna last for you. Take your time. M’not gonna last if you’re gonna do it like that. Ohhh baby, oh that tongue feels so good.”

She hears him, he knew there’s no possibility that she couldn’t have heard him, but she carries on without ever acknowledging nor showing she’s digested a single fucking word. Instead, she throats down a long gulp of every thick inch she can take before pulling off to dip her flushed tongue right into that big sensitive slit.

“Well Mister M, that’s just too bad,” she whispers, the first thing she’s verbally said out loud since they relapsed and messed around in his classroom again. “because I could just leave you like this instead, let you teach your next class with my spit still dripping down these balls,” she retorts, “and a neglected ass. Might especially not allow you touch yourself to get the relief you need either,” a condescending grin with her hooded eyes pointedly staring him down as she grabs one of his and gives him a threatening squeeze. “uh-uh, didn’t think so. Think this monster cock of yours always needs me too much.”

A usually reluctant Joel is rendered slack-jawed, completely irresistibly taken aback. Uncharacteristic whimpers tumble out of him without his own permission, stripped down of the dominant walls built around him as he feels his balls tighten and ready his load already at the prospect of knocking those walls down. Giving in to his own student’s control.

“Don’t you think so, Mister M?”

His silence and resilience doesn’t last.

“Yes ma’am,” he gives in.

Thinking nothing had to feel better in this moment than to give him everything he thought he couldn’t handle, everything he knows she’s capable of doing.

It’s nearly comedic how fast Joel loses his cool, hips gyrating forward, like a man possessed. She doesn’t have to open her eyes and look up to know he feels good. Her scorching pretty lips wrap around one of his balls, knuckles slicking up the spit on his cock. It tries to bob around in her grasp, but to no avail she keeps a tight grip. Pearls of milky precum tease and wet the tip, sending Joel for a spiral as his eyes roll back.

“Yes ma’am what? Repeat it back. Repeat it and I’ll give you everything you need.”

Joel has to force himself and hold in his cry. A sob threatens the back of his throat, the thin ribbon nearing its snap as more precum bubbles from his slit. He anxiously wags his head back and forth in slow misery, cock straining in her forceful and heavenly grasp.

“Yes ma’am, th—this monster cock needs you, needs that tongue. Wanna feel you suck on my balls again baby, always know how to make it feel so good. Gonna make me bust again, god wanna give you all my cum. Gonna feed it all right into you, sweet thing.”

“Wanna give me another big, fat load again, Mister M?” she asks, her voice muffled while her tongue goes back to work. Joel is fighting to keep his eyelids open, mouth dropping as he hums, mewling with desperation.

“Yes! Can’t fucking help it, I can’t help myself around you—shit, lick those balls up, yeah. Jus’ like that.”

His encouragement is rushed, strained. His thighs have lifted and spread open enough all for her mouth to love on, to explore. She feels his rapid irregular heart beating in his cock, the striking veins bulging as they fill with blood. Her slobber moving around with his skin and her tongue swarms the silence of the classroom, obscene as his gasps join in to drown it out.

“Fuck, first time I ever looked at you I knew I had to have you. Knew you’d give it to me, give it to me so good,” he rasps, white knuckling one side of his chair as she keeps happily slurping. Trades off on each side of his sack, generously suckling. It had to have been re-wiring Joel’s brain. He had no hope to go on after this.

Just when he thinks he’s had enough, she resumes her harsh jacks as she kisses and drools on the pucker of his ass. His cock thrashes and jumps, balls scrunching up and engorged, full preparation to release his load, drain his heavy sack.

She’s milking him, milking him of everything he has left—leaving his limbs to nothing but noodles as he whines. Squeals. It could almost be funny if it wasn’t so fucking hot, and if her panties weren’t flooded with warmth.

“Wanna please you, wanna—oh, let me cum, oh please I’ll be good—only ever wanna be so good for you—“

She slurps his balls up into her wet heat again, daring tongue salivating onto him. His length pulses and bobs, screaming for release. “Easy, baby. C’mon Mister M, let it out for me. It’s okay. Know this big cock is itching to give it to me.”

Joel nods hurriedly, incapable of anything else while his chest expands over and over with every lungful of breaths he takes, hips gyrating nonstop to chase her mouth. Her warmth, her engulfing wet heat that swallows him up and spits him right out.

For him, she gives his hole one last long kiss before sliding her lips, devouring every last inch. Her fingers squeeze and massage his balls, feeling them physically twitch and move in her grasp. She listens for his whimpers to fizzle out into long, insistent moans. Filling her mouth one spurt at a time with his creamy seed.

“Fuck, oh damn no one could ever take it better,” he heaves, eyes rolling back while the blizzard of aftershocks overtake him. Buzzing every inch of his pelvis inside and out.

She kitten licks everything down for him, every dollop of cum and slick. Cleaning him up and tucking him back in neatly into his slacks.

“Yeah, and no one’s cock is this big, Miller,” she laughs, teasing him with a light squeeze of her palm on the front zipper of his slacks. “Deserves to get sucked like, all hours of the day. Seriously. Would do it again if I didn’t have class later.”

She sticks out her tongue at him, flashing another smile bright enough to have Joel wondering if his fate may end with him flinging himself off a cliff.

Before turning her back to leave, she takes note of the stack of essays, taking in what she interrupted before she came here.

“So, that orgasm warrant an A or no?”

Joel’s strong enough to ignore the twitch his cock stirs this time, suppressed shame in the way he adjusts his length a certain way to hide beneath his waistband. Throws out a long eye roll with sass. “Shut up… don’t forget to call me tonight.”

miiight do some more professor/student stuff either same universe or make a whole new one. tons more ideas that’ll hopefully come to fruition soon too

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #tlou fanfic #joel miller #joel miller/reader #the last of us smut

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metallicaislife · 6 months

Text

Embarrassment Leads to…

Requested by: @g0ne-ghosting

Genre: 18+ smut, minors dni

Word Count: 1,720

Warnings: Douchey Lars-- oral(f receiving), p in v sex

I’ve known Kirk a long time, we met in biology class. Neither of us wanted to dissect the frog so we were banished to another room to watch a video of a frog dissection. Once again, neither of us were too keen on watching it. He pulled a horror comic out of his backpack, I reached into my backpack to show him the exact same one I had. Funny, we both enjoy watching gore but the idea of dissecting a frog is too much.

Our friendship blossomed from there. Nearly every day after school he was at my place or I was at his, watching movies, reading comics or listening to music.

I don’t know when the shift took place, one day he was just Kirk, my best friend, and well he still is, but in my heart he is so much more. He’s kind, funny, talented, and super attractive. His curly hair, breathtaking brown eyes, crooked smile. Super fucking cliche, having a massive crush on my best friend, I can’t help it though.

When he moved to San Francisco I was super bummed out and thought we’d drift apart because I can’t move up there yet. I was wrong though, we call each other often and correspond through letters. I’ve been up a couple times to visit and he has been back to LA to see me.

I was able to get the weekend off of work so I took a bus up to San Francisco. I’m currently on the couch talking to Lars while the others are deep in their own conversation.

“I mean I was a virgin when we started Metallica, but that problem has been well taken care of.” Lars smirked. I don’t know how we got to this topic, but here we are.

“Problem?” I asked.

“Yeah, I mean who in this day and age wants to be a virgin?” Lars asked incredulously.

I had never really given much thought that still being a virgin was lame or a problem. Was I holding out hope that Kirk would see me in a different light and fuck my brains out? Absolutely, but I didn’t think it was silly that I was still a virgin.

“I’m still a virgin.” I stated. Lars' eyes widened then he doubled over in laughter.

“What’s so funny, Ulrich?” James’ asked, his attention being torn from his and the other’s conversation.

“She’s still a virgin!” Lars wheezes out.

Okay, when you announce it to everyone like that, then it becomes mortifying. My cheeks heated up and I bolted. I found the room I was staying in and slammed the door. I sat on the ground with my back against the bed, bringing my knees into my chest. I fought off the tears, it wasn’t worth crying over. I heard the knob turn and cursed myself for not thinking of locking the door. I looked up and Kirk entered, closing the door softly. He made his way over to me and sat beside me.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly.

“That was so embarrassing. I wasn’t embarrassed by the fact I’m a virgin, but he didn’t have to go announcing it like it was today’s hottest news.” I said. I couldn’t bear to look over at Kirk.

“That was really rude of Lars, the other guys didn’t find it funny either. Both Cliff and James are really reaming into him right now.” Kirk said.

“So you don’t think it’s funny or pathetic that I’m a virgin?” I ask, finally looking over. Kirk’s big brown eyes were already trained on me.

“Not in the slightest.” He reassured me.

The air was different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but as we stared at one another, it wasn’t as best friends. Now was one of those times I wished one of us would take the jump and explore the possibility of more.

“I may be reading this wrong, if I do anything that you don’t want, tell me to stop.” Kirk said softly. My brow furrowed, but I quickly caught on as he leaned in. My eyes fell closed as our lips met in an electric kiss. It was soft and slow, but I’d been kissed before, and it never felt like this. Kirk shifted so he could cup my face as he deepened the kiss. He nibbled my lower lip and I opened my mouth letting him slide his tongue. I let out a soft moan deep in my throat. Kirk pulled back and we stared at one another with wide eyes and swollen lips.

“Keep going.” I offered softly as my chest heaved.

Kirk stood up and held his hand out to me. I took it and he helped me up and then brought me into him as his lips met mine again. As we kissed his hand wandered up my shirt and squeezed my breast. I gasped. He pulled back enough to lift my shirt above my head. He took his shirt off too.

“Take your pants off and lay down.” He said, then began removing his pants. I did as he asked, removing my bra as well and laid on the bed on my back. Kirk stood at the edge of the bed and stared at me for a few moments. My cheeks heated and I covered my breasts feeling so bare. Kirk grabbed my arms and moved them as he got on the bed over me.

“Don’t hide.” He said and pinned my arms at my side as he dipped down licking around one of my nipples. I gasped, my back arching slightly at the feeling. I could feel Kirk smirk against me as he took the nipple in his mouth and sucked at it. He used one of his hands to squeeze the other, rolling my nipple in his fingers. He switched sides. With the arm that wasn’t still pinned, I let my hand run up and down his back, scratching softly when he nibbled.

After he was pleased with his time there, he kissed down my body and looked up as he hovered over my clothed pussy. I nodded, giving him permission. He leaned down and kissed it before removing my panties. After throwing them to the floor, he kissed my pussy before licking from my entrance to my clit. I moaned, arching my back. Kirk continued lapping at my cunt as he shoved two fingers in my face. I took them in my mouth and sucked on them, swirling my tongue around the digits. When he deemed them wet enough he pulled them out with a lewd popping sound coming from my lips.

Kirk pulled his face back enough to watch as he slid a finger in me. My chest heaved as I watched him. He pulled his hand back and found a slow pace, curling his finger. I moaned and he added the second finger. Once he saw I wasn’t uncomfortable with the sensation, he dived back in sucking my clit as his fingers curled and scissored my pussy preparing it for his cock.

It didn’t take long before the pleasure rushed through me and my pussy clenched around his fingers. Kirk continued through my high letting it drag on. He pulled back and took his fingers out of me, placing them in his mouth licking off my slick.

Kirk stood and removed his boxers letting his erection free. He bent down and fished his wallet out of his jeans pocket, taking a condom out and tossing his wallet back to the floor. I watched as he opened the condom and rolled it over his cock. He crawled back over me and aligned himself with my entrance. He brushed the hair from my face and kissed me passionately. He slowly pushed in and a whine escaped my throat at the sensation. Kirk pulled his head back and peppered my face in kisses.

“I know, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” He said in between his kisses. I sighed softly as I dug my fingers into his shoulders.

Kirk moved his hips slowly back and forth until he was fully sheathed in me. My grip was so tight on him I thought I was going to leave marks on his shoulders.

“Let me know when I can move.” He said as he moved his head so he could kiss my neck.

I closed my eyes and let my body adjust to having his cock in me. After a while, it didn’t hurt as much.

“Okay, you can move.” I said. As I said that, Kirk rocked his hips back slowly and pushed back in. A groan left his lips.

Kirk found a steady pace. He lifted his head again and our lips met in a sloppy kiss. He started moving his hips a little faster, adding some more force with his thrusts. He used one arm to brace himself so he wasn’t crushing me, as the other found its way to my clit and began rubbing me as he fucked me. My back arched and I moaned, breaking our kiss. Kirk kissed down the column of my throat. I came for the second time shortly after. He continued thrusting into me until he found his high as well. Kirk rested his head on my shoulder catching his breath before he pulled out and got up to take the condom off.

I laid staring at the ceiling, in absolute disbelief that that had really happened. Kirk came back and laid next to me, he brought me into his embrace and ran his fingers up and down my back softly.

“I didn’t do that just so you could rub it in Lars face, I really like you… I know we’re best friends but I’ve liked you for a long time.” Kirk rambled. I leaned up pressing my lips to his.

“I like you too.” I said softly after pulling away from him. Kirk smiled at me and I smiled back, “I didn’t go along with it just to lose my virginity because I was embarrassed.” I said and rested my head on Kirk’s chest.

“I’m glad.” Kirk said and gave me a squeeze. I giggled.

I’m not sure where we go from here, but I know as long as I have Kirk by my side, I’ll be fine.

Thank you for reading! :)

#metallica x reader #metallica #metallica imagines #metallica scenarios #metallica smut #kirk hammett x reader #kirk hammett #kirk hammett smut

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urmadiik · 4 months

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1610 Miles x southernbelle!black!fem!reader? She’s basically Charlotte la Bouf from the princess and the frog with her personality and aesthetic but black, and she’s moving to Brooklyn for the first time after living in the country for so long. She’s also new to Brooklyn Visions and Miles shows her around, and they eventually become close and she meets Miles’s family when they start dating :)

AWW I LOVE CHARLOTTE OMGG ILL TRY !!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 !! : Miles!1610 x Black!fem!reader , fluff , reader has a southern accent , death mentioned, use of y/n, try to visualize the reader with a country accent/the same voice Charlotte la about had I can’t do all the work here 😞, shy reader, google translated Spanish ♡︎

feel free to give suggestions / tips on my writing only if it’s respectful !!

˚ ✧ ✩ 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐫𝐤 ✩ ✧ ˚

From the moment you were able to comprehend words, you have always longed for a prince just as the pretty princesses did in your storybooks. All afternoon, you would giggle as your mother would sit in her tall, wooden chair. Reading your stories as her melodic voice danced as the sound hit your ears, you sitting big-eyed on the floor, just happy to listen.

Your father’s business had slowed down over the past couple of months and before you knew it, you packed your bags and moved from your large estate in New Orleans to a smaller home all the way in the Big Apple (New York). You weren’t very thrilled about the new move either.

You’ve always believed your life would end with a happily ever after, no matter how bad things got. But that narrative shortly altered as on your 14th birthday, your mother died, her body becoming too frail and weak to fight her illness anymore. After that, you felt so miserable. You’ve always admired her, from her modest and ladylike style to her soothing voice that could always make the burning feeling in your throat ease as you sobbed in her chest. Her scent of vanilla and cocoa butter lingered in your nostrils as you nestled in the crook of her neck, her warm and slim hands gently rubbing your back and cooing sweet nothings in your ear. And now she’s just..gone..?

Ever since then, you couldn't get over the fact that she was really gone. You tried to keep her memory alive the best you could, keeping small mementos around your room. Once you forgot the exact shade of her eye color and vowed to yourself you’d never forget anything else again. Was it honey brown or a deep brown? You didn’t know, your vision blurred as tears burned your eyes as you searched around your room for even a photograph of her.

Although that was how it felt on the inside, your physical appearance didn’t change one bit. Apart from your sunken eyes and the redness in the crease of your eyelid, your attitude didn’t change towards people. You remained upbeat and kind, but somehow there was always a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach no matter how hard you tried to act like you were truly happy.

As you were deep in thought in the backseat of a taxi, you jumped a little as you heard a man speaking to you.

“This your stop?” He spat with a hint of an urgency, his thick accent making it a tad hard to comprehend.

“Hm? Oh, yessir.” You nodded as you speedily handed the man his a handful of cash and exited the car, afraid to get a tardy on the first day of school.

“You already paid.” The man said, trying to hand you back the money,

“Just a tip.” You shrugged as you walked up the steps of the school building and pushed open the doors.

As you walked through Brooklyn Visions, looking like a lost cat as you gazed at everything with a sparkle in your eye, you felt people staring at you. Maybe it was the way you decorated your uniform with golden jewelry and pearls or how it was obvious you weren’t from here, either way they were staring.

When you found your classroom, you gripped the cold, metal handle and took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the long day it was about to be before opening. As you closed the door behind you and immediately, all eyes were on you which made you a little uncomfortable.

“Yes Ms?” You spoke softly.

“Would you like to introduce yourself?” She gestured back to the class.

“No thank you, where do I sit?”

“Next to…” She glanced around the room for an open seat.

“Sit next to Miles.” She pointed. “Raise your hand Miles” She said a little louder.

“Hm..? Oh yeah.” He whispered under his breath as he set down his pencil he was scribbling with.

You gazed upon the freckled-faced boy, taking note of his appearance for a second. You walked over to the desk, pulled out the chair, and sat next to him, your leg bouncing as you silently sat and stared at the ground, trying to not get uncomfortable by the staring kids even if they made an effort not to make it evident.

As the teacher clicked play on the projector and the lights in the classroom dimmed, you felt a little nudge beside you.

“You new here?” Miles whispered softly.

“Hm..?” You mumbled, leaning in a little as your eyes stuck to the board as the video played out.

“You new here?” He repeated with a slight sigh.

“Oh yea! ‘Just moved in.” You chirped quietly.

You soon began to have a full conversation with the boy, your gaze adjusting to his face. Where you came from, how the South was like, your favorite songs. It all just flowed out so naturally with him.

“I like Sade t-“

And just as the discussion was just getting good, you heard a piercing voice cut you off.

“Ms. Y/n and Mr. Morales?” The teacher narrowed her eyes as she spoke as she paused the video.

“Yes’m?” You quickly lowered your head slightly to the ground as he did the same.

“Yes ma’am?” He spoke softly.

“Stop talking or I’ll separate the two of you.” She spoke, her hands crossed before she unpaused the video and sat back on her desk.

“Yes’m.” “Yes ma’am.” You both said in unison, eyes pointing back up at the board.

After the class got dismissed, you packed up all your things until you felt a tiny tap on your shoulder again.

“So uh..Y/n?”

“Mhm?” You said with a slight smile.

“Could I maybe..give you a tour of the school..?” He mumbled quickly, tugging at his collar subconsciously.

“Oh s’pose..” Your smile grew a tiny bit larger as he enveloped his warm hand in yours and sauntered with you all around campus. He showed you the gym, the cafeteria and even walked you to your next class.

Throughout the day, you couldn’t help but ponder why the boy took such an interest in you, playing with the tight bun that sat on top of your head I’m the school bathroom mirror while you scrunched your nose at the light but familiar smell as you adjusted the satin bow in the back. Pushing the pins back into place with ease. Your wonders would soon come to a halt as you sat at an empty lunch table, your cheek in your palm as your elbow rested comfortably on the table. You were picking at the suspicious pieces on ‘pineapples’ with your fork when you saw a familiar face.

“Miles?” You smiled with a glimmer of relief as you motioned him to come sit with you, hoping to make atleast one companion.

The boy happily accepted your request and sat next to you. And just like that, you made your first friend. Short “hi’s” as you crossed paths in the halls turned into walking each other to and from class, then getting each other numbers, which transitioned into a talking stage, and before you knew it, you had the prince you’d always dreamt of since you were a little girl. A prince who loved and cherished you the way you thought of him.

Miles was such a sweetheart, which made comfortable confiding in him. Though the two of you had things in common, you both had the same values and beliefs which you cared cared for the most. You shared with him your struggles to make meaningful connections with people and why you truly came to New York, despite feeling a tad embarrassed. You even opened up to him about your late mother and how difficult it has been since she passed. And throughout each talk or meltdown, he was always there. He let you sob into his arms as you cuddled in his chest comfortably, running his warm hands up and down your back. And even if his gifts weren’t the most expensive, they were priceless in your eyes. Every time you weren’t feeling your best, a little origami swan or rose would sit on your windowsill, making your heart flutter with excitement each time. Or, you a little goodie bag with your favorite snacks were disguised perfectly behind your text books, your giggles would make his cheeks heat up as you read his corny lil love letters. And for the first time in months, you were truly happy.

One evening while Miles was walking you home, pinkies interlocked, he mumbled something that caught your attention.

“So how would you feel if you uhm.. met my parents..?” He said in a hushed tone, pulling on his collar out of habit.

“Meeting your parents?” You smiled, feeling a bit of a rush that he had thought you were that important.

He answered with a swift nod.

“Id love to!” You kissed on the nose sweetly as the walk stopped short at the front door of your house.

“Tomorrow at 6?” He looked down at you while you looked up.

“Mhm,” You nodded as you waved goodbye to him and entered your home, rushing up the stairs to brainstorm an outfit to wear for this new occasion. Your daddy was home as usual, so you decided to just leave a sticky note on where you were going since the two of you practically communicated through little notes of the fridge or text now because of his job that required him to work from before you opened your eyes to long after you shut your eyes for the day. Sure you did miss him and the once lively home in New Orleans you once knew, but you accepted it was for the best and came to terms with that reality.

The next evening, after school, Miles came to pick you up. You rushed down the stairs as soon as you heard his recognizable 3 knocks on the door. You didn’t even spare time to look through the peephole which was a force of habit that always made him upset.

“Cariño (sweetheart), what’d I tell you about the door?” He huffed softly.

“I know, I know, sorry..but look at my outfit!”As you gestured to your attire, you were wearing your favorite black frilly button-up. Along with that, a white skirt lined with a pink bow at the end that stopped abruptly at the knee. You paired it with a pair of black heels and white stockings outlining your legs comfortably.

“Yes princesa, you look beautiful as always.” He chuckled lightly as he examined you head to toe, down to the pearl jewelry assorted carefully in your hair and throughout the outfit.

“You think your parents will like it?” You smiled up at him, letting him take your hand and walk you.

“They’ll love it.” He assured, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

When you got to the door, you were practically shaking in your boots.

“Miles…I don’t know about this anymore. What if they don’t like me..?” You frown, your hand hovering above the cold door knob.

“They’ll love you baby, I’m sure of it.” He said softly, giving you one of his “everything’s gonna be alright” smiles.

“But what if-“

“Shh…I like you a lot, and if my parents can’t see that then I don’t care. You’re my girlfriend, not theirs.”

You took a deep breath, shook your head, put on your best smile and opened the door.

“Hi Mrs and Mr Morales!” You chirp.

“Oh hi! You must be y/n, correct?” She smiled widely.

“Yes ma’am!” You nodded, sitting down at the dining table, Miles following behind you.

“So..” Jeff mumble as they all sat down, a paper plate of pizza in front of you.

At first, dinner was so awkward. You weren’t the best at starting a conversation, so you all just sorta…stared at each other. A few uncomfortable giggles and silent glances around the room, but that’s all. Luckily, Mikes knew of your antisocial antics and decided to help out.

“Y/n’s really good at Spanish y’know?” He brought up, breaking the unbearable silence.

“Really?” Rio smiled, finally showing some interest in the conversation.

“Oh uhm..yeah! I have an A and sometimes help him with some of his homework!”

And for the rest of the night, it ran smoothly. The room filled with laughter and cute stories about Miles when he was younger, reminiscing over the past. Over the course of you and Miles’ relationship, you and Rio had gotten really close. From asking “When is she coming over again?” to baking and gossiping with each other, you were practically best friends. She even slipped up and called you her daughter time to time, which almost brought tears to your eyes from how endearing it was too you. In a way, you saw her as a mother figure.

#across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales 1610 #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #black reader #fluff #miles 42 #miles morales earth 42 #miles morales prowler #miguel o'hara #atsv #gwen stacy #pavitr prabhakar #jessica drew #hobie brown

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lulublack90 · 2 months

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Prompt 25 - Alohomora

@wolfstarmicrofic March 25, word count 305

Remus had a free lesson between classes. The other Marauders all had divination. He wiggled under his bed and pulled out a small wooden box. He waved his wand over it and muttered.

“Alohomora.” The box popped open, and he grinned down at the goodies within.

Chocolate frogs, peppermint imps, fudge flies and a couple of bottles of butterbeer.

He flicked his wand at the record player, and Changes started playing as the Hunky Dory album began to spin.

He relaxed back into his bed, opened his book and began reading as he bit the head off a chocolate frog. He was about to pull the cork from a bottle of butterbeer when the dorm room door flung open to reveal Sirius Black standing all dramatic in the doorway.

Remus hurriedly tried to hide his sweets.

“Don’t think I can’t see the pile of snacks you’ve got, and you’d better be sharing.” Remus pulled a face but tossed him a bag of fudge flies anyway.

Sirius spread himself across Remus’s bed and swiped the bottle of butterbeer from Remus’s hands. He took a long swig before handing it back.

“I thought you had Divination?” Remus asked as he sipped from the bottle.

“I did,” Sirius said with a grin as he put his arms behind his head, knocking Remus with his elbow. “But I got halfway there and couldn’t be bothered. Besides, I’ll predict something horrible for her next time, and she’ll forgive me.”

“Teacher’s pet.” Remus teased.

“Well, I am a dog.” Sirius sat up and launched himself on top of Remus, snuffling at his neck before moving back and kissing his lips.

“We’ve got about an hour before lunch,” He murmured into Remus’s mouth. Remus smirked as he pulled Sirius in closer.

The sweets went forgotten as they lost themselves in each other.

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laurasimonsdaughter · 1 year

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“Alright! Let’s just quickly go over your answers to our questionnaire in your application.”

As far as job interviews went, this one was rapidly moving up the list of utterly strange ones. For starters this was the fanciest office he had ever been in, and this was supposed to be an animal sanctuary. The amount of decorative pillows piled onto the chair he was currently trying to sit on would have been more appropriate for a lounge in a posh hotel.

The sanctuary manager – at least that’s how she had introduced herself – peered at the printed sheets of paper.

“So you have experience with animal handling?”

“During several internships, yes.”

“Wonderful. And horticulture?”

“I know how to keep a healthy habitat.”

“Excellent. And do you have any siblings?”

There it was, barely three questions in and already off the deep end. “Yes, three.”

The woman fixed two keen, dark eyes on him. “Three including you?”

“No, three besides me. I’m the second oldest, if that matters.”

“Ah! That’s alright then, Second of four, very good.”

By now he was looking at the manager with unrestrained wonder, eyebrows almost disappearing under his fringe.

“Well that all seems to be in order, just one more question—are you comfortable?”

He faltered, blinking. “I...well, to tell you to truth this chair could do with a few less pillows.”

To his amazement the manager’s face lit up with genuine delight. “Oh that is very good to hear. I do apologise for all that nonsense, but there’s rules against asking people about the circumstances of their birth, you know. Here, let me.”

He got to his feet, still rather stunned, and watched how the manager removed three pillows and, from underneath them all, a small green pea from his chair.

“There we are! Now, we’d be very glad to have you, you certainly meet all our qualifications, and I assure you we offer excellent terms and benefits. You clearly have plenty of experience with amphibians and birds, but you will need some on the job training, because apart from the usual frogs, swans and ravens, we also have clients in some of the rarer categories.”

“Clients? I thought this was an animal sanctuary,” he stammered.

“It most certainly is! Except our residents have not always been animals.” The manager smiled meaningfully. “You’d be surprised just how many people, especially royals, decide they would rather stay enchanted.” She looked a little embarrassed for a moment. “Which is of course exactly why I need to take certain precautions with my employees, you understand.”

He was pretty sure he did not at all understand, but he wasn’t about to admit that now. “Right.”

She peered at him again. “I do still need you to promise me not to fall in love with any of them.”

“Why on earth—”

“It’s happened before,” she said gravely. “We also have a couple of private parks, with a more human enclosure, I mean house, because we do get the occasional beastification.” She shook her head. “The last person we hired, well, our client was kind enough not to file an official complaint, on account of the whole finding his true love thing, but it was really very embarrassing.” He sat very still for a moment. “So, how many of those are there?”

“Beasts? Only two at the moment, since that unfortunate incident.”

“And your other...residents?”

“Hmm lets see, seven swans and seven ravens, three frogs, a stag, a hind, a fox and a bear. Well, and the cat, but she’s an exception, she lives in our head quarters and mostly looks after herself.” She gave him a rather worried look. “I haven’t scared you off, have I?”

He gave her a weak smile. “You promised me five weeks paid time off, so no you haven’t. But I am going to need some more information.”

“Wonderful,” she sighed. “In that case, let’s start with giving you a tour.”

#urban fantasy #urban fantasy professionals #laura drabbles #fairy tales #this one is a little rough still but it needed to get out there

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mistystepmoonbeam · 28 days

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Reborn into BG3: Chapter 10

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 10: Tiefling party time! And Scratch finally makes an appearance.

Word count: 2K

Warnings: Drinking--reader gets drunk!

A/N: I can't believe how many of you want more Tav x Reader romance lol

You find yourself sitting at the edge of the river during the tieflings party, staff upright and twirling between your fingers. The small length of sand between the water and the grass behind you is soft enough to let you sink down an inch, but the scattered stones don’t let you disappear like you want. The party is in full swing and you’re hiding in the shadows beyond the small rock arch beside Wyll’s tent, moping.

Well, the noise was aggravating your headache too, but still. At least out here it’s quieter than in your tent.

“And here I thought I would be the only one hiding myself away during the celebration.” Wyll sits beside you, two silver goblets of wine in his hands. He passes you the closest one which you take.

“Loud noises and head injuries don’t mix,” you say with a sniff at the wine. It’s dark outside but you can tell it’s white wine, nose tingling at the high alcohol content. Without much thought you down the cup. It passes over your tongue with barely any taste.

“But alcohol and misery do,” he counters, watching you press the bottom of the goblet into the sand. “I thought the devil might have spooked you but something tells me that’s not the case.”

You move your eyes over the water. “I was just thinking about how much I’m going to miss you guys. I know it hasn’t been that long since we met but you’re literally the only people I know. I just…don’t know what I’m going to do in the morning.”

“What are you talking about?” Wyll questions. When you only offer him a shrug in return he watches you carefully. If you were looking in his direction you would feel smaller than you already do under his scrutiny. Finally he says, “Perhaps that devil did get in your head. Whatever he said, whatever he promised, don’t consider it for a second.”

How could you not? Raphael only said what you were thinking.

The alcohol forces a warmth through your body that you don’t want. It was too much like the kindness you’ve been offered so many times since waking here, too much like the magic used to heal your repeated injuries. You bring your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them.

“I’m not.” Liar, you think. You’re even considering going to Auntie Ethel. “And he didn’t get in my head.”

“Then what are you talking about, missing us?”

“I mean,” you say, maybe a little too forcefully, “that when you go I will notice you’re gone.”

You huff and shift in the sand. Wyll runs a hand over his face, muttering, “By the gods you’re just as foolhardy as me.”

He sets his goblet in the sand and faces you. “And where will you be when we’re gone?”

You shrug and throw your hands in front of yourself. “I don’t know! Without the tadpole or any idea who I am, I have no idea!”

In your outburst you grab Wyll’s goblet and down what was left, about half of it. It stings your nose and throat, something much stronger than the drink he’d given you. Far too politely, he lets you do this and watches. You cough and inhale harshly, head already starting to spin. But maybe that’s the concussion and the couple of drinks you’d had earlier…

“Did someone tell you you’re not welcome here?” Wyll asks. His voice hints at his amusement more than the downturn of his lips. “I can’t imagine Tav sending anyone away. He’s just found a frog that he insists stay with us.”

You tilt your head in agreement and lean back until you’re laying in the sandy grass. There’s a rock poking at one of the many bruises on your back but you ignore it. Your mind grows foggy, and you run your hands over your face in hopes of clarity. But all you get is…you’re not even sure. More sadness? Anger? And at what? Not the group. The gods? Whichever one put you here and didn’t let you remember who you are, only who you were?

Philosophical questions of identity and perception cross your mind but you’re now too tipsy to think them through. You cover your eyes with your forearms.

“I miss…” you begin, but you can’t finish the sentence. “I just want to remember something other than what is. He made it sound like…like he knew me. Not just giving me my memory back, but he knew me.”

“Devils are fantastic liars,” Wyll tells you. “Come on, I think we should clear some things up with the others.”

You listen to him stand and then feel his hand gently grab your upper arm. He gives you a pull and you let him get you to your feet with little resistance. You hug your staff to you, unwilling to let go of Tav’s gift. If not for Wyll leading you and the staff to lean on, you’d be stumbling along the path or just falling down, but he manages to get you to Gale and Karlach who are drinking by the tiefling siblings as Rolan performs firework tricks.

Before he can say a word you spot a fluffy white tail nearby, and despite your swirling vision you recognize the owner immediately.

“Oh my God,” you shout, kneeling (well, fall, really) onto your knees as Scratch barks at Rolan, making the tiefling flinch. “Puppy!”

Scratch turns to you and pounces when he sees you’re on the ground with him. He knocks you onto your back and licks your face–by now you’re too drunk to even notice. You scratch behind his ears and squish his face, laughing as he rubs his face against yours. You’re mumbling about what a good boy he is when he lays down on you, resting his full weight on your torso. He’s…heavier than he looks in the game.

You groan, waving a hand at the companions around you. Someone throws something towards the centre of camp and Scratch takes off, using your stomach as a launchpad. You nearly vomit at the sudden pressure and roll onto your side.

A hand lowers to you. Your body is shaky but you manage to grab hold of it and he helps you to your feet, even picking up your forgotten staff and passing it back to you. Of course, it’s Wyll that gives you a solid foundation to stand on.

“Karlach, Gale,” the warlock begins, “our dear friend here thinks we’ll be sending them off alone, what are your thoughts on that?”

Karlach and Gale exchanged a confused glance before looking at you. Gale says, “Just because you don’t have a mindflayer tadpole doesn’t mean we’re leaving you behind.”

He’s too smart, you think. And his shirt looks so soft right now, the perfect pillow. You waver left and right, eyelids growing heavy. It’d be so easy to just lean forward and close your eyes…no! Awake, be awake! The alcohol is twisting your thoughts too well. But Gale is too polite too, if you just happened to rest on his super soft sweater a moment, right?

“Is that what that means?” Karlach’s eyes widen and she nearly drops her cup. “Haven’t you heard of no soldier left behind? We aren’t just going to leave you here like a stray cat.”

You pout, eyes on your staff. “I’m not useful without the tadpole, though.”

“You weren’t useful with it,” Gale responds. If looks could kill, Gale would be cinders from Karlach’s glare when you lift your head. He holds up a hand in surrender. “What I mean is that we may have all come together because of our ocular insertions, but there’s no need to separate without them. I would be—disappointed to see you go, but if that’s what you want, I won’t stop you.”

Karlach shifts. “I guess I won’t either, but I will try to change your mind!”

Wyll’s hands are on your shoulders. “Do you want us to go on without you? It’s a dangerous journey and without the parasite it would make sense for you to be the one to leave us.”

“No!” You cover your mouth with one hand, realising just how loud you’d shouted. The younger siblings, Cal and Lia, look at you curiously before going back to teasing Rolan. Quietly you repeat, “No. I want to—I want to help.”

It sounded a little more mature than “I want to hang out with you some more”, at least, or “please for the love of god don’t leave me I have no idea what I’m doing”.

You blink slowly at them, eyes scanning the area in hopes of hiding whatever emotion is clear on your face. You’re sure it must be sadness, but there’s a smile threatening to rise at the thought they want you to stay with them. Tears, too.

“I think I need water,” you mumble, “lots of water.”

“Excuse me.” The voice draws everyone’s attention to one of the tiefling guards. Arka. It’s a good thing you’re drunk because the shock you feel is delayed enough for you to keep it hidden. She’s watching you, her expression a mixture of sorrow and anger, but it soon turns to defeat. She wets her lips. “I heard about what happened—Mirkon asked me to thank you.”

You tilt your head, unable to remember the name.

Arka’s own brow furrows in confusion. “You told the druids about him going to the beach; the guards found him about to be harpy food—they’d been so busy with the rite they hadn’t bothered to clear out the nest over there.”

There’s a deep venom in her words about the druids, and maybe at you for not remembering any of it. Or maybe it’s just in your head because the world is getting a little—twirlier, than you’re used to.

“Right,” you say. “I’m glad he’s okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Karlach questions. “I just got my upgrade, I coulda taken those harpies no problem!”

“Four harpies is a lot for even you,” you respond.

“Hey, you tell me about your next bad feeling and I’ll prove you wrong.” Karlach laughs loudly. She tells the others of your “bad feeling” about the singing and the boy, and mentions how she’s taken on worse than a few harpies.

If you weren’t so out of it you might have noticed both Gale and Wyll watching you closely. With more than concern for a drunk friend, but you don’t ask what they’re thinking. Another death you prevented. Not to mention one too many details—how did you know it was four harpies?

When Arka turns to leave you grab her wrist. “You don’t have to do it. Memnos—that’s his name—Memnos will be sad. They need you for what’s coming in the…the—what is it—the dark place.”

Your eyes are closed for this speech. You can clearly see her dead body in your mind, but it’s not on a screen, it’s real. So real you can smell the blood and feel the breeze on your skin as you look down at her corpse.

Silence overtakes you as you pass out a moment. You’re jolted awake a few seconds later by Gale, his hands on both your shoulders when you look at him. “Oh, I’m so glad you don’t have a boar head.”

But behind him Arka’s eyes are wide—terrified. Gale begins to lead you towards your tent. “Apologies for our friend here. As you can see, wine loosens the tongue of its nonsense.”

Arka points a finger at you, her shock now turned to anger. “How could you possibly know that?”

You lean into Gale’s side, trying to remember what she’s talking about. “Know what?”

“That I was—that tonight I…” Her words trail off. She gulps whatever else she was going to say and shakes her head, spinning on her heel and joining Memnos and Alfira on the other side of camp.

You look at Gale, or more accurately his shoulder and that soft, soft sweater. You lean your head on it and ask, “What do I know?”

You’re not sure if you’re supposed to hear his reply. “More than we thought, it seems.”

Taglist:

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#reborn into baldur's gate 3 with no memory and plenty of money #reborn into bg3 #gale x reader #astarion x reader #but what should we name the frog?#tw: drinking

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vonnawithav · 6 months

Text

I don’t like romance in movies

Now, this is totally personal opinion and preference, so please keep that in mind when reading.

“I don’t like romance plots in movies”

That sounds so weird I know. Especially when this entire blog I dedicated to one ineffable couple I’ve hyper fixated on ever since I offhandedly watched a random show on prime when I was bored.

There’s lots of things I don’t like about the idea of stereotypical *ahem, usually heterosexual* romance, and one of those things is the perceived intensity of attraction.

While I understand it to an extent, I also don’t. On the few occasions I’ve been romantically interested in someone I’ve never had the urge to rip their clothes off and jump their skin, or marry them that afternoon.

I do however, want to show them my book collection, send them obscure memes, talk about that one scene in that one show I can’t move on from yet, listen to them talk about their passions, share romantic but subtle moments, and just generally enjoy each other’s company.

Maybe this is because my lack of neurotypical tendencies, my demisexuality, or just my queerness in general, I don’t know.

But this type of romance is rarely shown in media, (again, in my personal viewing experience), especially in straight media.

You’re probably wondering what the fuck this has to do with movies. Same honestly I lost my train of thought one sec-

Ah yes.

Romance in movies feels immensely rushed to me. There is no time to sit and talk while you watch the sunrise, there cannot be an entire episode where the entire plot line is your traumatic childhood and how you two can bond over the fact both of your dads left for milk and never came back, or your wooden frog collection.

Noooo, instead, there must be this instant inexplicable attraction that causes both of your hormones to go haywire, because the plot only has two hours to not only get through this plot line BUT the other three in the background.

For romance to work in my head, 👏🏾I 👏🏾 Need 👏🏾 Bonding 👏🏾 time 👏🏾.

That’s one of the many reasons I love OFMD and Good Omens so much, we get to see that bonding time.

Ed and Stede chilling while having breakfast in bed while they look at each other lovingly?

Goals.

Azira and Crowley sitting and enjoying a good bottle of wine while talking about the end of the world?

Never seen anything better.

I think romance is at its best when subtle and calming, not frantic and unnerving.

Don’t get me wrong, I think franticness has its place in romance, especially once sexual tension has begun, but there needs to be large spaces of comfort and safety in between. (In my personal opinion)

Alrighty then, I’ll be off.

Lmk if you see where I’m coming from, or if I’m just posting insane ramblings because I’m sleep deprived and recovering from a cold 🥲.

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dracoxmalereader · 6 months

Text

All at Once

Draco x Male Reader

Context: Takes place in Goblet of Fire, after the Triwizard Tournament but before the school year ended. Reader is a fifth year ravenclaw, so a year above Draco.

Summary: Draco wasn't the kind of guy to fall in love, much less at first sight, much less while serving detention in the potions classroom over missing assignments.

Part 2/Sequel

Word Count: 1009

Your tie was half undone, the blue collar of your robes lazily draped around your shoulders. You were clearly having a difficult time. Draco, who’d been bitterly scribbling answers to his overdue homework papers, couldn’t help but take notice each time you haphazardly sorted through the many phials of ingredients you had scattered around the table.

He didn’t know your name, only vaguely recognizing you as one of the few cellists he’d seen performing at the Yule Ball. Better than being in that insufferable frog choir, he supposed. Seated next to you, he figured you must’ve been there for blowing something up in class, what with the way your cauldron angrily bubbled with each incorrect addition to the potion brewing in it.

He begrudgingly made his way down one page of his work before moving to another, looking back up to watch you fail at your own task more often than he’d like to admit. You were pleasant to watch, and something in him fluttered every time he saw your fingers twitch in hesitation before pouring something new into your cauldron.

You were making a potion he didn’t recognize, one that looked similar to a calming draught, and as far as he could tell your textbook was less than telling on how to make it correctly. ‘Typical’ He thought to himself, ‘Those things are impossible to read.’

He snorted, amused.

“Something funny, Malfoy?” You whispered to him. Your head cocked to the side, your eyes staring holes into his when they met. Draco’s stomach churned, and it felt like the breath had been stolen from his lungs. For a moment, he forgot how to talk.

“Uh… what?” He mentally cursed himself for stumbling over his words, unsure of what to say with your piercing gaze still locked onto his. He hadn’t expected you to notice him watching you, let alone call him out by name. A part of him was inexplicably happy that you knew who he was.

“Do you have a penchant for watching upperclassmen mess up?” You hissed, one brow quirked up and a scowl worked its way onto your face.

He itched to snark in retaliation like he would with anyone else, the words dying before they reached his throat. His tongue felt dry and he opened and closed his mouth dumbly, ultimately remaining silent.

“You’re lucky I don’t tip this cauldron onto your lap.” You shook your head before turning back down to stare at the page you still couldn’t seem to understand.

Draco wasn’t used to it, to people speaking so crudely to him. Had it been anyone else, had it been someone like Potter, Draco would’ve had their name climbing his father’s shit list within the hour. Something about you, though, told him he really didn’t want that. Something that made him unable to tear his watchful eyes away, something that made his chest throb uncomfortably.

His mind lingered on you, on your calloused hands, on the way your lips pursed when you scowled at him. His mind lingered on the Yule Ball, how those calloused hands would have felt in his if you’d danced together, how your pursed lips would have felt if you’d-

Oh. Oh.

All at once, Draco’s thoughts turned to a scattered blur. His heart thudded in his chest, the rhythm almost drowning out the blood rushing through his ears. His breathing slowed and he felt his face heat up. He watched you blink, jealous that your eyelashes were touching your face and he wasn’t.

Draco wasn’t the kind of guy to fall in love. As the years progressed, people fell into couplings around him like puzzle pieces locking into place, and never once had Draco taken interest. Unlike the people around him, he had no crushes. No crushes, no ‘type’, no girls that caught his eye, not one. He’d taken Pansy to the Yule Ball as a friend, and done his best to let her down easy when she thought it’d been more.

Here, serving detention in the potions classroom watching you fumble your way through a tedious potion, suddenly it was all making sense to him. Your jaw clenching from stress, your throat bobbing over a dry swallow, your shoulders and chest broad and so distinctly masculine.

Butterflies burst in his chest, and his throat ached in endearment. Draco wasn’t the kind of guy to fall in love, much less at first sight, but there he was.

“Do…” He started, probably a bit too loud, sensations exploding behind his ribcage when your eyes met his again. “Do you want help? I’m, uh, I’m really good at potions.”

“Detention is not time for making friends, Mr. Malfoy.” Snape spoke up from the desk at the front of the room, breaking both of you out of conversation for a moment. He looked at Snape and nodded, face flushing in embarrassment before he looked back at you.

Your mouth hung open with an unspoken response before closing, presumably to avoid angering the professor. You blinked at Draco, another wave of feeling washing over him. Images flashed through his brain, and all he could think was how badly he wished he could run his thumbs along the underside of your eyes and feel your boyish lashes fan against his nails. You scooted to the side, allowing room for him to get closer to your cauldron and book.

Your shoulders brushed together as he helped you, and he felt like a whole new man. His pulse thundered in his ears and he could feel sweat collecting in his palms. Part of him was afraid you were a Legilimens, because if you'd read his mind right then and there all you would have seen was yourself in wedding attire at a banquet with his extended family.

There, going through the motions of learning the potion you were working on and breaking it down for you in whispers, it was a miracle he could focus at all past the juvenile thoughts racing through his mind of spending the rest of his life with you.

Based on this tweet:

I am a down bad Draco truther ✊ let me know if there are typos pls. <3

#draco malfoy imagine #draco x male reader #draco malfoy x male reader #draco x reader #tagging is hard #draco malfoy #harry potter fandom #draco malfoy x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you

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