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crispyjenkins · 2 years

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anon prompt fill

alright so! lost the ask this prompt was for because tumblr fecked up, so i’m incredibly sorry if this was yours 😭 veered from the prompt somewhat, but when don’t i. i hope you like the changes!!! (ღ˘◡ ˘ღ)

Ahsoka doesn’t recognise him, when they first find him; his signature is unmistakable, Ahsoka would know it in a coma and half Force-blind, yet the young face that stares back at her and Cody is one she hasn’t seen even in holos of her grandmaster from before the War.

But that light in the Force is unmistakably Obi-Wan Kenobi.

With Master Anakin on probation in the Temple for killing Raako Hardeen and Cad Bane (she refuses to think it was in cold blood, but was... was revenge actually better?), Cody had been the one to accompany her and the 501st to investigate a tiny cloaked complex near Naboo that was rumored to belong to Count Dooku. And maybe Cody knows something she doesn’t about her Grandmaster’s past, because that same pained recognition is on his own face — or maybe he really is Force sensitive the way Anakin always jokes.

Force, Obi-Wan isn’t even wearing robes, instead dressed in a grey tunic and soft pants that look an exact copy of the red ones worn by the clones on Kamino, and Ahsoka almost drops her gaze, feeling as if she’s caught him in his undergarments.

“... General?” Cody asks softly at her side, voice raw and betrayed, but this... Not–Obi-Wan just blinks at him.

“Oh, no, not me,” the thing wearing her Grandmaster’s face says with a Serennian accent, smiling apologetically. “I’m afraid he hasn’t been by in quite some time.”

Ahsoka exchanges a quick look with Cody before stepping through the doorway properly, Not–Obi-Wan sitting on an assortment of vermilion cushions that are the only splash of colour in the entire room of washed-out greys and stark whites. He simply watches her approach, an actual flimsi book laid across his lap in a language that Ahsoka doesn’t know, but it isn’t until she’s halfway across the room that she starts to see little differences between this boy and her grandmaster. A mole a little too far to the left, brown eyes a little darker than they should be, lower lip a little too full.

When she doesn’t say anything, he frowns suspiciously. “You are here to see General Grievous, yes?”

Ahsoka feels her heart freeze in her chest, as Cody makes a strangled sound she’s never heard from him before.

It draws Not–Obi-Wan’s gaze back to the commander, and he raises one dark brow. “I was not aware my grandfather kept any of Fett’s clones for himself.”

Cody sputters, hand twitching towards one of the blasters at his hip, but Ahsoka knows he would never actually shoot Master Obi-Wan — if this even is Master Obi-Wan. Just to be safe, she sidesteps to put herself between the two of them, and holds up one hand placatingly. “Your grandfather?” she asks carefully, but the Force assures her she already knows the answer. “I didn’t realise Count Dooku had any living family still.”

Surprisingly, he snorts, and jerks a hand around the barren room. “If you call this living.”

She blinks. “You’re trapped here?”

“I honestly don’t even know what planet I’m on.” He says it like it means nothing, like it’s a given fact that he has no control over, and Ahsoka has to stop herself from punching the nearest wall.

Taking a few deep breaths to steady herself, Ahsoka glances back at Cody, whose expression has shifted to forcibly-blank. “What’s your name?” she asks, desperately wishing Master Anakin were here, that Master Obi-Wan were here. The Force does not lie to her, but she had also held her grandmaster as he died, in her arms, and the impossibility of this... man, barely older than she is, having the same signature that she had felt as it snuffed out is...

“I’m not entirely sure,” that man says, with a tiny, forced smile. “General Grievous calls me Kenobi, and Lady Ventress calls me Little Jedi, but my grandfather calls me Yan.”

After the briefest of pauses, the air positively suffocating with confusion and horror and disgust, Cody slams his helmet back on and whirls out of the room, and the bulkhead-style door clangs shut behind him.

Yan doesn’t seem surprised by his outburst, lips pressed together in a thin line as he stares after him for a moment before dragging his eyes back to Ahsoka. “I am quite sure I have never met either of you, yet you both still seem to know me,” he remarks softly, one thumb fidgeting with the edge of the pages of his book.

“I...” Ahsoka starts, but doesn’t know what she had planned to say. “I, um, how old are you, Yan?”

If he is surprised by this either, he doesn’t show it. “I believe I am 19 Serenno years old, but as I have not seen a Galactic calendar since I was a child, I cannot be sure.”

Deeply disturbed, she goes on, “What did you mean by your grandfather ‘keeping’ one of Fett’s clones?”

“I was under the impression he only picked the template because his master wanted Fett,” Yan offers, deceptively-clever eyes watching her reaction closely, “So it would surprise me if he chose to keep one around.”

If Yan is telling the truth, if it was Dooku that commissioned the clones, that means... that means Count Dooku and Darth Tyranus are one in the same. Force, Ahsoka doesn’t even know where to start on all the implications of that, and a small part of her is relieved that this is important enough that she will be handing it off to someone much older and wiser than her as soon as possible.

Not that she would remove herself from the case completely, not when Yan is observing her with eyes Ahsoka had watched go dim.

Tipping his head to the side, Yan’s gaze intensifies, hand twitching over his book. “You are not allies of my grandfather.”

Ahsoka inhales slowly. There’s no way she can lie to him — hopefully Cody is still just outside in case she needs backup. “No.”

“He didn’t keep a Fett clone around, your companion is part of the GAR.”

“He is.”

Yan contemplates that for another minute, and he doesn’t seem angry, but Ahsoka isn’t sure if she would be able to tell even if he did. When the silence stretches into a tension Ahsoka wouldn’t be able to cut even with her ’saber, Yan nods to himself.

Then his face splits into a smile, a grin she’d seen dozens of times right before her grandmaster would throw himself into an especially-reckless plan that he shouldn’t survive but somehow still did. Yan locks his eyes with hers with a ferocity that holds her firmer than gravity.

His smile widens. “You wanna help me break the kriff out of here?”

#ask #prompt fill #anon #crispy writes #prequel trilogy #clone wars #was this just an excuse to write padawan obi wan again #*insert ''maybe so'' meme*#obi wan kenobi #ish #ahsoka tano #commander cody #help i used to have so many tags why can't i think of anything #slightly angsty but it gets better?#and yes #this was very confusing to write when i always name dooku ''yan'' in my other works #now that i've finished living icarus hunger should be next but absolutely no guarantee when that'll be #i love you all thank you for sticking with me so long #prompts will return at some point

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serenanymph · 11 months

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13 and 19, your choice of ship for the ship ask game

For Crys and Icarus from Beast because that's legit the only one I've really developed lolll

13. What’s their opinions on PDA?

I mean... they're pretty chill about it, I guess? Just handholding and hugging and stuff and maybe the occasional quick peck, but nothing beyond that. Icarus is a pretty affectionate guy in general, Crys doesn't really mind. This would be very very post-canon though because legit if you showed current events Crys even a pinch of affection he'd absolutely bolt. Gone with the wind. Just up and vamoose.

19. How do they silently/subtly express their love for each other?

Oho. Brace yourself. Rant incoming.

Okay, so, Icarus is a very acts of service kind of person, so I think he'd remember the little things, like he'd pick up on how Crys likes his coffee or remember he expressed interest in reading fantasy fiction! And next thing you know Icarus just casually slides over a mug of black coffee to Crys at breakfast or dumps an entire stack of fantasy novels he found in front of him. Icarus is legit the sweetest boy ever. He does this for pretty much everyone else as well because, to reiterate, too good for this world. And also he just checks in periodically with Crys to make sure he's doing okay, both verbal questions and silent glances. They have an entire eye-contact thing going on. It drives Rhyme insane. Honestly in general I think Icarus is just someone who loves a lot, so it tends to be in everything he does.

But Crys. Crys is extremely emotionally constipated. Honestly he's observant so he'd pick up on the little things as well, but he'd have a lot more difficulty doing what Icarus does. In the end he'll manage because this is more indirect shows of affection but also he'd have an easier time throwing himself in front of a knife (or spear. or Witchrisen) for Icarus. Which he does do concerningly often. That boy has a self-sacrificial streak for days.

#thank you for the ask!! sorry I went ahead and wrote a whole essay fhskdajhfsakldjfhsda #can you tell these two drive me insane #shaking them furiously #why are the two of you like this #beast #wip: beast #ask game #asks #writeblr community #I still have. so many more tag games to go through. man #gonna dig through my wip for more presentable bits #char: crys #char: icarus

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mrcowboydeanwinchester · 2 years

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Ola skrog just deactivated so many of my favs are leaving PLEASE don't go we'd die without you

skrog deactivating has shaken me to my very core i'm ngl it's a BIG loss for spnblr :( but don't worry about me leaving!! i'm a lot less active atm bcos i've just started uni and boy does it take up every waking moment of my time!! but i am not leaving any time soon, i haven't even finished watching spn yet and i'm watching the prequel too; i also have a bunch of fics and edits still in the works so. also i will continue to have thoughts about spn women forever :) honoured that this implies i'm one of ur faves thank u!!! <333

#holding hands with you we will get through this spnblr will get through this #so honoured that you value me as part of your spnblr ecosystem thank u sm fr 🥺#i hope you're doing okay atm!!! hope that life is going well for you :)#icarus tag 🌞#ola answers

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tryingtimi · 2 years

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First Line WIP Game

Thank you so much for the tag @jess-p-edits!

Both are from a kind of zero drafts, but oh well. Here we go!

Project Metalsea Death by the Metalsea had not been considered the most severe punishment of Evalon. A driadlin could done so little and still find themselves standing on a plank, above the endlessly waving pieces of metal. The guilty could argue — it was only a piece of bread they stole, or they hurt someone because they were attacked first. Still, the answer for these pleas remained the same: "The Ivory Guard never absolved anyone in the past. And we never will."

IQRUS Dark, bottomless depth sorrounded Adran. He looked down at his body casually floating in the water, but the faint luminosity of his diving suit made his silhouette eerie and indistinct. He hadn't seen his legs a while now either. Adran would have needed more light to get a glimps of anything in the pitch-black unknown that laid out in front of him. He couldn't risk it however.

I don't really have anyone to tag yet (or not aware of them being okay with tag games), so I'll say if anyone who sees this and would like to do it, please do!

#first line tag game #thank you for thinking of me lovely <3 #hope the translation is okay #wouldn't bet on it lol #either way here they are #also i didn't even get a notification about this tag?#i just found out when i scrolled through the post on my feed lmao #Project Metalsea #IQRUS #Project Icarus #typos may appear because i'm a typbro #my hand moves faster than my mind #Metalsea snippet #IQRUS snippet

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mushroomminded · 2 years

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Icarus spoilers I guess ///// So like the earth girl IS supposed to be Tegan, right????

YESSS TOTALLY!!! I told skye I wouldn't say so until someone else brought it up so THANK YOU FOR THAT

But especially in s2: her non-answer when Miranda asked if it was her, Cody almost recognizing the girl on the monitor WHICH. MAY I POINT OUT:

the smoking gun being the feed of the healing pod with her last name "Butter" on it!!!

I think it's safe to say the question isn't "if" Tegan is the earth girl, it's why she's trying to keep it so secret!

#8 colas #spoilers #icarus spoilers #<-im sure everyone has that tagged LMAOOO #BUT YES THANK YOU THIS THEORY HAS BEEN BURNING ME UP INSIDE #i had my suspicious in s1 but skye has laid it OUT i think

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thebigbiwolf · 7 months

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Spittle - Part 2/2 (Astarion/F!Reader)

Summary: The chocolate seems innocent enough - if you look past the Infernal writing on the wrapper, and with so few pleasures in the wilderness, you all but jump at the chance to sneak yourself a small treat.

Unbeknownst to you, the bar is infused with succubus spittle. Just one square is rumored to contain enough potency to send a mortal into the throes of ecstasy.

This is what happens when you eat half the bar.

Fic Tags: Sex Pollen (kinda), aphrodisiacs, a bit of dom!Astarion, unprotected piv, overstimulation, he talks you through it (iykyk),

Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Language, No use of Y/N, magical influence

Read Part 1: Here

Read on AO3: Here

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Wow. I'll try to make this brief. First of all, I just want to say thank you all so much for your continued support. I know this took me forever to write, but I've been going through a lot of emotional turmoil with school and some health issues with my animals. Your patience means so much to me, and I can only hope this lives up to everyone's expectations! This is my first time writing smut, and ngl I feel a bit like Icarus, so let me know if y'all liked it. Last, but not least, thanks again to my bestie/beta @imaginarydromedary for holding my hand through the shame.

Astarion sits quietly beside the fire, absently picking the dirt from beneath his manicured nails. The night had unfolded like countless others before it: boring, mundane. Uneventful.

Perhaps he should retire early. The Realm According to Bumpo sits patiently atop the desk in his tent, and if he heads to bed now, he could potentially finish a chapter before his watch begins.

He stands, patting the dust off his trousers, just as Shadowheart emerges from your tent. He initially doesn’t pay her any mind - fails to notice the concern etched across her face.

“Astarion.”

He snaps to attention, recognizing the fear in her voice.

Astarion’s stomach sinks when their eyes meet. Shadowheart isn’t normally one to succumb to panic, but she looks as though she’s just stumbled out of a wolf’s den.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. She - I’ve never seen…” Shadowheart pauses, taking a steadying breath. “She’s feverish. She was fine only hours ago. I heard a cry from her tent and feared something was amiss. When I found her, she…” The cleric hesitates, eyes contemplative - as if weighing exactly how much she wants to reveal.

“Out with it, damn it!”

“Is there any chance she’s been poisoned? You two stayed behind, back in the village. Did she come into contact with anything that might have pierced her skin?”

“Poisoned? No, she -” Astarion retraces the events, turning over your brief conversations in his head before landing on the only noteworthy detail he can think of.

He taps a finger on his chin, a thoughtful smile creasing his face. “Unless, of course, the Infernal chocolates didn’t agree with her.”

“I’m sorry, the what?”

“The chocolate she found at the apothecary. I assumed she hid it away so she could enjoy her little treat, unbothered. There was Infernal text on the wrapper.”

She stares at him with wide eyes, jaw slack with disbelief. “And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?”

Astarion shrugs, unfazed.

“Where’s Wyll?”

He rolls his eyes. “How should I know? I’m not his keeper.”

“Astarion!”

“Oh, come on. That chocolate must have been at least a decade old. Are you certain this isn’t just some sort of stomach bug?”

The cleric shoves past him, groaning in exasperation. She shoots him a glare and mutters, “I’m certain,” before jogging in the direction of Wyll’s tent.

“Infused with succubus spittle. Just one bite will have you and that special someone rolling around for hours. Consume responsibly."

Astarion giggles boyishly. “An aphrodisiac? How fun.”

Wyll squints as he silently reads the next bit to himself, fingers tracing the text. He turns to Shadowheart, jaw tightening, "How much of this did you say she ingested?"

"I only found half the bar."

Wyll’s expression grows more serious. "This says the recommended serving size is one square… How many squares were left?"

“Oh, gods…” she breathes, "Six."

The three exchange silent, worried glances.

“Could she die from this?” Shadowheart asks, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Wyll’s lips press into a thin line. In truth, he doesn’t know the answer. He could ask Mizora for guidance, but the devil’s been awfully silent after his recent failures. He isn’t sure she'd be willing to answer him, let alone grant any favors. Still, it may be worth a call.

Just as Wyll’s about to suggest it, Astarion heaves a deep, dramatic sigh, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“Alright, I know what we’re all thinking. I’ll take care of this.”

The other two regard each other, thoroughly confused.

“Look," Astarion explains, I may not be well-versed in magic, or magical remedies, for that matter, but now that we know what’s causing this… I think it’s obvious what needs to be done.”

“You’re joking.” Shadowheart laughs, incredulously.

“No,” he continues, “We can’t just sit here and hope for the best. We need to act quickly, and let's just say, this fits into my... skill set.”

“So, you’re going to, what? Have sex with her? You think she’ll be capable of saying anything but yes, given the state she’s in?”

Astarion shoots her a glare. The mere thought that he’d ever so much as suggest doing something like that - bedding you when you’re too weak to reject him - the very idea of it makes him sick.

He isn’t that evil.

“Watch your tongue,” he spits at her, “before I do us all the favor of removing it.”

“Hang on, you two,” Wyll interjects, “Astarion, I think you might have a point. You would know better than anyone whether she’s in a right enough state of mind to… consent to this. You’re closest to her. She trusts you.”

He turns to Shadowheart, “It’s worth a try.”

Astarion notices two things as he pulls back the flap of your tent.

The first is that it is unseasonably warm. Scorching hot, like summer. A stark contrast from the welcoming cool of the early spring night behind him.

And second, that the air in the tent is heavy - heady with the scent of sweat and something else he can’t quite identify. It's clouding his senses, making his head swim. The taste of it settles on his tongue, like salt on the rim of an otherwise very sweet drink.

The moonlight at his back casts a dark shadow over your sleeping form. Astarion hesitates for a moment, taking in the sight of you, vulnerable and oblivious to his presence, feeling too much like a wolf looming over a snared rabbit.

You twitch, grimacing in pain.

He frowns. This wasn’t the way he wanted to go about seducing you. His plan was much more sophisticated: a carafe of wine, a few honeyed words leading to a night of passion, your endless thanks, all culminating in some well-earned release and his assured protection.

A mutual exchange.

But, this?

He’s roused from his thoughts by another grunt, escaping from between your clenched teeth.

Whatever you’re going through, it looks like hell.

Ugh. You know what? Fine. Maybe this isn’t the way he envisioned it, but when has life ever blessed him with a perfect scenario? He’ll offer his… services, and respect whatever answer you give him. If you refuse him now, he can always try again later. Under less perilous circumstances, provided you survive the night.

And if not, well, he's never been one to play the hero, but at least he tried.

He steps further inside, closing the entrance behind him. The moment he seals the tent shut, there is a palpable shift. The space feels infinitely heavier, laden with unnatural energy, reminiscent of anticipation, but just slightly… off.

He breathes, trying to focus on anything but that intoxicating scent. The haze of it is maddening.

The elf sits on his knees beside you, hands resting in his lap.

He clears his throat, hoping the sound would be enough to wake you.

There’s no response.

He whispers your name.

Nothing.

No choice, then.

He drums a finger against your bare arm.

The cleric was right. Your skin is so hot, it borders on scalding.

Finally, you begin to stir.

Again. It happened again.

As soon as you closed your eyes to rest, you saw him - That thing that wore his skin. You felt his hands and mouth as he ravaged you until you fell apart beneath him, above him, wrapped around him, like he was everywhere all at once.

He was demanding as he took pleasure from you. Ravenous. Mocking your cries, your begging.

The hours stretched into what felt like lifetimes, and you’d nearly given up hope, resigning yourself to the idea that this was your new, endless reality.

Until suddenly, you hear a voice that pulls you from the dark recesses of your subconscious-- the very voice being used to torture you

Your name, uttered quietly by Astarion. Just Astarion. No second, more sinister layer beneath it.

Your eyelids flutter, then widen as a chilling realization washes over you.

He’s touching you. The pads of his fingers are both a balm and an irritant, soothing and igniting the flames licking at the corners of your mind.

“You look like you’ve seen better days.” He teases.

You recoil from his touch, sitting upwards and crawling back away from him.

He can’t be here. He, of all people, can’t be here.

And yet, something within you is screeching in delight.

'That’s him, isn’t it? The object of your desires? How fun!’

You swallow. Hard.

“Astarion, I -”

He holds up a hand, silencing you. “I’m aware.”

“Shadowheart informed us of your… predicament,” he continues, “I can’t help but feel partly responsible, seeing as I was there when you found the chocolate -”

“The chocolate? Is that - wait, what?”

Shit. Your head is pounding.

You press your palms against your eyes and groan.

“I’ll spare you the details, but that chocolate was laced with succubus spittle - a highly potent aphrodisiac - and you, my dear, have consumed enough to bring an entire brothel to its knees.”

Your eyes snap open, meeting his own. There isn’t an ounce of humor in his tone. No sign of his usual mischief.

Gods, he’s being fucking serious.

“Now, as amusing as this might be if it were anyone else, I’d prefer it if our party’s leader made it out of this alive, and that leaves us with a choice."

You gaze at him silently, waiting as the candlelight paints his sharp features in warm hues of amber and honey.

'He’s quite handsome. I see why you like him.’

“You can ride this out alone,” Astarion explains, “Shadowheart will return with her best salves and more potions for the fever. We’ll hope this passes quickly, but Wyll’s translation suggests the amount you consumed could leave you in this state for up to a week.”

Your stomach churns. You’re going to be sick.

“And the alternative?” you manage to ask.

His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining with your own. Your skin prickles at the contact.

“The alternative is that you let me help you through this. Consider it a repayment, of sorts, for gifting me your blood. I’m somewhat of an expert on… well,” he lets out a humorless laugh, “let’s just say, I’m the best chance you’ve got.”

Maybe it's the blood roaring in your ears, or maybe you’re still dreaming, but it sounds like Astarion is offering to… fuck you?

“I’m sorry, what?”

He groans, visibly frustrated. “Sex, my dear. If the magic is compelling you to have it, I think we should listen.”

‘Handsome and smart.’

You hiss, “Would you please shut up?”

Astarion squints. “What was that?”

“Nothing, sorry.” You clear your throat. “Listen, I - I get what you’re trying to do. I appreciate it, really, but -”

Pain lances through your abdomen, a sharp, icy shard that interrupts your words. You clutch at your side, releasing Astarion’s hand before falling helplessly on your back, twisting in agony.

He inches closer, voice tinged with urgency. “We’re running out of time. If you want my help, it's best to ask now, because as much as I love the idea of you begging for me to bed you, I won’t be comfortable doing this unless you agree to this while you’ve still got your wits about you.”

Tears sting the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision at the edges. He’s right. You don’t think you can endure this alone, and as much as you fucking hate to admit it, the damned succubus magic - that thing - is right.

You do desire him. You’ve wanted him since the moment you met beside the nautiloid. Now here he is, offering to alleviate your suffering.

There’s just one part of his offer that you can’t quite come to terms with.

“I didn’t let you drink from me because I was hoping you’d repay me.” Your voice warbles, wet and stressed, “I can’t have sex with you if it’ll just be part of some ridiculous transaction. Not with anyone, and certainly not with you.”

His expression softens as your words sink in. It’s a confession, of sorts. The kind he’s wholly unfamiliar with. It stuns him almost to the point of speechlessness.

“My apologies. Believe me, it was more of an excuse than anything. I didn’t mean to suggest…” He lets his words trail off, shaking his head. You two can revisit this conversation later, when time isn’t of the essence. “It doesn’t matter. I want to do this. Let me help you.”

The sincerity in his voice sends a shiver up your spine.

It’s clear he means this.

He means every word.

You nod. “Okay.”

Astarion clears his throat, rolling the tension off his shoulders.

“Good. Now that we’ve got that taken care of,” he says as he throws one of his legs over your waist, straddling you, “Why don’t you lie back and let me take care of this, hm?”

His posture is relaxed. Confident. He regards you with hooded eyes and the faintest hint of a smirk. It’s quite the sight, one you’d enjoy significantly more if your body wasn’t busy screaming for his attention.

His deft hands make quick work of the laces of your shirt, and with every string that loosens, your composure unravels further. You squirm, unable to resist the heat that teases your skin and the growing itch beneath it.

As if Astarion can sense your rising panic, he places a cool palm against your burning cheek, his touch both gentle and practiced as he rubs smooth circles at the dip of your temple.

“Relax, dear,” he whispers, both a request and a command. The gentle lilt in his voice masks the underlying authority, but your body obeys all the same, tension releasing from your muscles. “I’ve got you.”

Astarion quickly rids you of the offending fabric, chest and stomach now bared to him. His eyes scan over your form with focused intensity, lips pinched between his teeth, like an artist deciding what to make of their blank canvas.

“Normally, I’d take my time with this,” he admits, “but given the circumstances…” He swiftly undoes the buttons of your trousers before yanking them off along with your smallclothes. One single, fluid motion.

He can’t hide the mild shock that follows when he sees the state of you - dripping wet, red and pulsing with need.

He dips the tip of his finger between your folds. It glides over velvet skin, coating the digit in warm, wet slick. A strangled, pitiful noise escapes from your throat.

For a moment, Astarion’s calculated expression falters, surprised by the rate at which your body opens itself up to him. A glint of hunger lurks beneath the surface.

“This may be easier than I thought.” He says with a smirk, more to himself than to you.

He presses two digits in, slow and intentional. There’s no resistance; A knife through warm butter. You’re dripping down his knuckles, gripping around him like a vice. He slides all the way in until the heel of his palm meets your clit.

“Breathe.”

Not even realizing you’d been holding your breath, you release it with a shutter.

“Very good.” He punctuates his words with the slow drag of his fingers. Long, languid movements. He’s taking his sweet time with you, pulling scandalous little cries from your lips. It’s like he’s toying with you - seeing how long you can hold out before breaking.

It doesn’t take much time at all.

“Astarion -”

“Yes?”

“Please.”

“Please, what? What do you need, darling?” His eyes are fixed on your own, grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. A cat playing with a cornered mouse.

“More. Anything.”

He hums in approval, then wets the pad of his thumb on his tongue before drawing circles exactly where you need. Heat coils at the base of your spine, forming a ball of tension that threatens to snap.

The sheer intensity of it is enough to scare you, caught between the urge to chase the sensation or flee from it. “Astarion, I -”

He ignores your warning as if he hadn’t heard it, plunging his fingers into your heat and curling them - expertly caressing a spot that threatens to shatter you. Your hands fly out, gripping the fabric of his shirt, the sheets beneath you, anything in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.

“Go on, love. Let it out. I’ve got you.”

Your body seizes as your orgasm tears through you, igniting every one of your oversensitive nerves. Back arching off the bedroll, several strangled sounds - almost pained - rip from your throat. The pleasure threatens to tear you apart, but the thick fog of lust occupying your mind begins to subside, offering the slightest bit of clarity as you twitch beneath him.

Astarion grabs you by the jaw, tilting your head this way and that, admiring his handiwork. He's quite pleased with himself, with the mess he's made of you - jaw slack and brows pinched. He coaxes out the aftershocks, watching you squeeze around his fingers.

"There,” he gives you a playful pat on the cheek, "You're looking better already."

"You're - agh - enjoying this too much."

"I never said I wasn't going to enjoy it."

A beat of silence passes between the two of you as he allows you to catch your breath. For a moment, you think the coast is clear - that maybe, this was as far as things had to go. This was what the magic was compelling you to do, or at the very least - it was close enough. You fulfilled its wishes. Surely.

But then he pulls out of you, and the second you feel the vacuum of emptiness where his fingers once were, that voice in your head is screeching like some sort of petulant child. It pouts, waggling its non-existent finger in your direction. The demanding bitch.

Part of you, instinctually, realizes that this is just the beginning - that you’re simply at the edge of the shore watching the tides recede while a devastating wave builds somewhere in the distance.

“What is it? Does it still hurt?” Astarion asks, breaking the silence, and you realize that no, it doesn’t. Not like before, at least.

You shake your head.

“Good. I’d wager that means this is working.” He smiles triumphantly, working the laces of his own clothes, and ridding himself of the final layers between you, revealing an intricate network of muscle beneath. For a man who’d supposedly been starved for the last two centuries, he certainly doesn’t look the part.

Astarion nudges your legs apart with his thigh, then settles between your knees, dragging the head of his cock between your folds. He hums in approval, admiring the sight as he coats himself in your slick. It practically drools out of you.

There’s no resistance when he dips himself into your entrance.

His eyes scan over your face, searching for any discomfort, but all he finds is need.

So, he presses in further.

“Shit, you -”

He hisses, sucking in a sharp breath as he bottoms out, then takes a moment, eyes pinched shut, collecting himself.

He slides out, just an inch or so, before plunging back in, buried as deeply as he can reach. It’s so damn easy, the sinfully wet mess you’ve left all over his cock allowing him to glide in and out, tilting his hips with each thrust.

The stretch of him is perfect, like you were made for this - made to take him. His length rubbing and dragging against your walls acts like a balm, relaxing your body as you swallow and grip him in scorching heat.

He grabs one of your thighs, pressing it into your chest - the new angle allowing him to sink even deeper into your core.

It isn’t long before you’re begging him for more, digging your heels into the curve of his back.

Astarion starts pounding into you - a new, brutal pace spurred on by your encouragement and the wet, filthy slap of his skin against yours. The sounds reverberate off the canvas of your tent, blending with your choked sobs. You just know your companions are going to have something to say about this in the morning, but you honestly can’t bring yourself to care.

The only thing that matters now is the man above you - his nails digging into the flesh of your ass, whispering how good you feel. How well you’re taking him, “Like you were made for this - for me.” His grunts are like music to your ears, drowning out all other thoughts as his chest vibrates against your own.

It’s all too much.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you before you have a chance to warn him, but he feels the way you flutter around his cock and acts on instinct - snaking his fingers between your bodies and rubbing your clit in quick circles.

You throw your head back with a cry, shaking beneath him, and grip him like a vice as you come. The force of it slams into you, hot and devastating, tightening every muscle within its wake. You wind your limbs tightly around the hard planes of Astarion’s body as he rolls his hips into you, slow and deep.

You can feel him twitching inside you, his rhythm suddenly stuttering with each thrust. Something tells you he’d come now, if you’d allow him.

But where?

'Where else?'

The very idea of him not spilling every drop he has inside of you disturbs you nearly to the point of panic, and with that, you finally understand what this damned succubus has been demanding of you this entire time.

“Astarion, please. I need you.”

“Where?” he asks, voice muffled, panting hot and open-mouthed against the swell of your shoulder.

“Inside,” you beg, “Please. Please - It’s alright.”

He shudders, surging up into you one last time with a strangled grunt. Holding onto your hips, he pulses within you, the warmth of his release filling you to the brim, until a thick white ring of come forms at the base of his length. You can’t help but clench around him, moving to match his previous pace and trying desperately to wring as much out of him as you can, until it begins to seep out onto the sheets beneath you.

It isn’t until he stills inside of you that you release your hold on him. The two of you take a minute to collect yourselves, waiting for your heart to settle and listening to Astarion’s ragged breaths.

He lifts his weight off of you with a grunt, settling back on his knees.

“That was - agh,” he shivers as he pulls out of you. You don’t even want to look at the mess.

“I’m going to have to burn these sheets, aren’t I?” you ask, sitting up on your shoulders.

He throws his head back with a genuine, hearty laugh, and cards his fingers through his dampened hair.

This is the most relaxed you think you’ve ever seen him - not a scowl line in sight. He rolls his shoulders, and sighs at the subsequent pop before turning his focus back on you.

“I’ll have you know,” Astarion muses, “I’ve done this more times than I can count— but this, my dear,” he chuckles, “This was one for the books.”

“So, was sleeping with me everything you could have possibly imagined?” It’s an obvious joke, given your tone. An offer to squash any chance of this happening again, should he wish to. An exit.

He hums playfully. “Well, next time I think I’d prefer the subtle influence of wine over a mind-altering aphrodisiac, if it's all the same to you.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Did he just offer to do this again? Well, not exactly, but -

“And how are you feeling?” Astarion asks.

Better, is the honest answer. Slightly confused and deeply embarrassed, but better.

The apologies you’ll have to make after the night’s over seem endless, both to him and to Shadowheart for all the trouble you caused. Not to mention the others, who’ve probably had the sound of your squealing burned into their memories forever. The idea of it is daunting.

“Because if you’re still reeling from any nasty, lingering effects,” he continues, “I’m sure I could be… persuaded to help again.”

Oh.

Hm.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

Tag List (sorry if I missed anyone! I only added you if you explicitly asked to be tagged): @daedriclys @captain039 @sushiumex @sugasweettea @marauders-moon @starlightelegy @ablxssm @the-lake-is-calling

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion #astarion acunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion fanfic #astarion x you #spittle

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444rockstargf · 1 month

Note

hii again😈

soooo i had another charlie ask (sorry, I’ve been a bit obsessed recently…)! i was wondering if you could write a popular reader x charlie story where they are hooking up in secret (like in a janitors closet in the school or something because she doesn’t want anyone to know💀). make it as smutty or fluffy as you want! THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME!!

xoxo

thank you for the request!!

"the sweetest girl in town." | charlie walker

meet me in the pale moonlight. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn@si1nful-symph0ny @mayathepsychic1999 @@romanroyapoligist @livingdead-materialgirl @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @vanlisbon @lankysimp @livingdead-reilly @yungbloodsuxca @kashmirclam @icarus-star @imoonkiss @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @greenxgloss

popular!female!reader x geeky!charlie

word count: 1.4k

contents: blowjob, public sex, charlie domming for a little bit

as students bustled through the halls to get to their next classes, you elegantly made your way to the lonely little door in the middle of the wall. you grabbed the handle, ring-decorated fingers opening the door. you walked into the tight room, stepping over a mildewy mop as you shut the door behind you.

your eyes met the infatuated gaze of the geek shyly standing in the corner, a smile spreading across his face. “i… i thought you weren’t coming…” you smiled, walking up to him and making him back into the wall as nervousness coursed through his veins. “oh please. you think i’d miss the opportunity to see my favourite guy in the world?” you patted his cheek and he leaned into your touch, blushing profusely.

you knew you had a pattern of overstepping when it came to him, but charlie walker was a sucker for affection, so you decided to give the poor boy what he wanted. you reeled back a little, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. “sorry i couldn’t catch you before first period. i just couldn’t get away from my friends.” you exaggerated the word ‘friends’ a little, like it couldn’t be further from the truth.

his smile widened even more. “don’t worry about it.” he hesitated as he spoke again. “you looked real good this morning… almost wanted to scoop you up and have you all to myself…” you felt your gaze get slightly icy as he mentioned interacting with you outside closed doors where everyone would surely flip at seeing such an odd couple together. but you shook off the breeze, smiling at him.

he reached into his bag, pulling out a brown paper bag with a heart-shaped sticky note. “i brought you some cookies to celebrate one month of us… you know.” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. only charlie would celebrate something as mundane as one month of hooking up in secret. but you took the bag, flattered by the gesture. “you’re the sweetest guy ever, y’know that?”

he was grinning like an idiot as you bent over to put the goodies in your bag. as you got back up, you caught a glimpse of charlie eyefucking you from your peripherals. at last, the chatter in the hallways came to a complete stop. you approached him again, close enough that you could feel his breath on your cheek. “we’d better get started if you plan on making it to your next class.” he was already dazed by your ethereal beauty, but he nodded. “y-yeah, of course.”

luckily for you, he was already bricked. he had been ever since you had walked in, his boner sticking out like a sore thumb. you grinned smugly, bringing your hands to the zipper of your sweater and pulling it down at a teasingly slow pace. then you let it fall to the ground, charlie’s pupils dilating as you put your tits on display for him.

you pinned him to the wall, grabbing the back of his head and locking him in a wet, sloppy kiss. he fed his jagged gasps into your mouth, frantically moving his hands to unbuckle his belt. as it clanged to the floor, his erect cock sprung out like a jack-in-the-box. it slapped you on the stomach and you jumped, giggling. “well, it looks like someone’s missed me.” you wrapped your pretty hand around his girth, using the flat part of your thumbs to massage his throbbing tip. he hissed, tossing his head back as a shiver ran down his spine. you went down on your knees, looking up at him with those eyes that made him run wild. you loved how much power you had over him. he’d run into a burning building just to get you your favourite mascara. he would even kill for you if you asked him to.

you played around with his cock, taking in the 7-inches of flesh that was currently begging to feel your insides. charlie’s heart raced in his chest as he watched you have fun with his manhood. he wanted this moment to last forever but also wanted to skip to the good part. but he knew to just let you be at a time like this.

finally, you brought your lips to his tip, peppering tiny kisses all over it. he squirmed, fists clenching at his sides as sweat began to bead at the back of his neck. you kissed him all the way down and came back up again, time feeling like an eternity for him until he finally snapped. “oh, for fuck’s sake.” he grabbed the back of your head, forcing your jaw open and shoving his cock into your throat all at once.

you gagged, tears immediately filling your eyes as he hit deep into your throat, your tongue pressed against his underside. he wrapped a handful of your hair around his fist, losing himself in the feeling of extreme pleasure as he began to fuck your face. he wasn’t being gentle or careful with you. he was surrendering to his desires, letting them possess him and take over.

he leaned back against the wall, his hips backing into your gaping mouth as he ran a hand through his hair. his knees buckled from the feeling of your uvula fluttering against his tip, his balls creating a sticky mess on your chin as he pulled your head up and down his shaft.

he bit his lip hard, drawing a thin line of blood as his chest heaved. he had never been consumed by such a primal feeling before. it felt like pure ecstasy and he never wanted to stop. his eyes were glued to you, watching as your tits bounced from the rapid movement of your head. he wanted to paint all over your plump breasts, turning them into his own pieces of art that would forever be treasured in the chamber of his mind.

you were too stunned to even react. charlie had never been the type to take charge. you’d learned to enjoy making him squirm until he turned blue in the face. you’d gotten so used to the “yes, ma’am” and “whatever you want” that you’d forgotten that he was actually a man. as much as you wanted to fight and protest and perhaps bite off his dick to teach him a lesson, you let him have his fun, tears flowing cheeks as your throat began to bruise.

you began to fondle his balls in your shaky grip, making his eyes roll to the back of his head. charlie rolled his hips into your mouth, lips parted as desperate moans slipped from them. “o-oh… oh god…” his cock throbbed and twitched in your esophagus, signalling an orgasm that was nearing rapidly.

a devious idea popped into your mind. you pressed your tongue against him, pushing his cock to the roof of your mouth and swallowing to create a strong suction. a technique that you knew would come in handy one day. charlie whimpered out loud, nails digging into the back of your head as he eagerly whipped his cock out of your mouth and gave himself a few quick strokes, ejaculating all over your chest.

you gasped as the white-hot liquid hit your chest, a coughing fit hitting you as you finally took in a breath of air again. it was like all his deepest fantasies coming true. you were a piece of art, his muse. his cum highlighted your body in ways that he thought could only be true in his wildest dreams.

his cock leaked with a few more drops of cum as you got back to your feet, wiping the drool from your lips as you glared at him. “nice going, you fucking prick.” you muttered, making his heart shatter. he scratched the back of his head. “s-sorry… got a little carried away there, didn’t i?” you laugh a little, picking up your sweater and pulling it on. “you think?” there was cum dripping down your torso, but it could be worse.

you pulled out your mirror from your pocket, looking at the dark tear streaks that ran down your face. “you completely messed up my makeup.” he helped you pick up your bag. “how about i take you out later? i heard they just restoked your favourite brand.” you couldn’t help but melt at his kindness. you nodded, the taste of his cum still polluting your mouth.

with a sigh, you pulled the cookie he gave you out of your bag, taking a large bite and nodding with approval as the bell shrilled, your cue to leave. you turned to the door, shooting him one last glance. “see you around, loser.” you walked out of the closet, hoping that no one would notice the cum on your shirt and the stupid smile on your face.

author's note: i want cookies :((

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #smut #charlie walker smut #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker #scream 4 #rory culkin x reader #scream #scream franchise #scream movie #scream movies #scre4m #scream iv #lana del rey #lana del rey unreleased #meet me in the pale moonlight

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 8 months

Note

I know you wrote for Kappa/Euro. Hear me out.. could you write for Euro/Dead from lords of chaos? No one writes for jack kilmer and it drives me insane‼️😭

Pure Fucking Armaggedon

Summary: In the midst of a heavy night of partying with the Black Circle, you crave your boyfriend's attention but just like so often lately, he's very much not interested, leading you to meet your needs somewhere else…

Pairing: Dead x fem!Reader x Euronymous

Word Count: ~3.7k

Content Warnings: Trve Kvlt Smvt 18+!, Talk About Depression/Mental Illness, Talk About Self-Harm, Very Angsty, Hurt/Comfort...ish, Alcohol, Smoking, Cheating…But With A Twist, Fingering, Unprotected P In V, Creampie, Pet Names

A/N: Hi, anonnie! Thank you very much for this ask <3 Before everybody jumps into my inbox about Jack Kilmer: Please don’t, okay? He’s not tickling my brain like Rory does and I’d hate to let y’all down by having requests sitting in my inbox collecting dust 🖤 However, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having a lot of fun writing this chaos!

Massive thanks to @spookyorchid for endlessly entertaining my rambles and inspiring me!

Disclaimer: This is solely based on the characters depicted in Lords Of Chaos!

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @lifelessvessel @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai @fan-goddess @shady-the-simp

Could you stomach it anymore

Could you stand to be a breath away

Can you feel the way your face distorts

Did you think that it could be this way

- Stomach It By Crywolf

Your upper lip twitched a little as your gaze darted right into your boyfriend's chestnut-coloured eyes. In a rather stark contrast to yours, Pelle's expression was indifferent whilst he stared back at you, face smeared with a now gray amalgamation of once black and white corpse paint.

"Sorry…" He muttered, his voice lacking the depth and sympathy to really sell his point.

"No…it's, it's okay, really. It makes no sense to pressure yourself when you're not in the mood, no." You shrugged your shoulders at him, very much meaning what you said whilst you still felt that massive rock of repeated disappointment settling down in your stomach.

"I'm gonna go grab another beer then…can I get you something?" Pelle shook his head lightly.

"No, but thanks. I think I should just go to sleep now." The Swede with the long blonde hair allowed himself to slump deeper down into the old, worn out sofa, crossing his arms in front of his chest and with that not just verbally but also physically blocking you out.

"Nighty then…" You mumbled, turning away from your boyfriend to hide just how hard you fought to keep your composure.

Neither the heavy leather jacket, the edgy metal studs and spikes all over nor your trusty Darkthrone shirt hugging your torso were able to shield you from the emotional hurt raging inside of you. It's been months since Pelle last touched or so much as kissed you on the mouth. You knew just fine that something wasn't alright with him, that he was going through an episode again and the last thing you intended on doing was putting any blame for that on him but fuck was it challenging you this time. It didn't go past you how the I love you's had become more and more scarce, how he turned his back to you at night whilst you stared at the ceiling hoping for the oncoming episode to wash over him in a few, swift weeks but his current black hole of depression was unlike anything before. You hardly recognised your boyfriend anymore and felt like nothing but an accessory to the whole band persona he'd put up to cover up how much he was actually hurting on the inside.

To not come off as a soft, little crybaby to everybody else, you stifled your breath and wiped the emerging gush of tears from your lower lash line as fast as you could before making your way out to the densely crowded yard again. Empty bottles of beer lined the way whilst partially smoked-up cigarettes laid scattered all over, the heavy smell of a raging bonfire filled the crisp night breeze. Whilst almost violently looking to the ground to avoid anybody seeing you being about to burst into tears, you rushed to one of the cooling boxes to grab a beer or preferably something stronger. A sense of recklessness washed through you as you dug a deeply green, still halfway full glass bottle from the cooler. Jägermeister would serve you just fine right now.

Armed with the strong booze, you went right back into the house, hiding yourself away from all the action to simply get drunk in peace and solitude.

"Ugh…" Your whole body quivered as the herbal liquor shot down your throat, drenching your mouth in its bitter taste.

Right after the sensation eased up a little, you chased the first swig with a second, deeper one, the alcohol burning its way through your stomach before you'd even reached the corner of the house that could be described as a guest room to slump down on an array of dusty mattresses. With the intense warmth of heavy liquor washing through your body, you curled yourself up, shoving an old pillow underneath your head and before you really realized it, vagrant, quiet tears trickled from the corners of your eyes, pooling at the tear duct to eventually swap over the bridge of your nose. If you were honest with yourself, you felt sick of it, sick of being ignored and pushed away but at the same time you just couldn't bring yourself to point the finger at Per. He simply didn't choose this way of being and feeling yet it felt like he wasn't even trying anymore…which, again, would just be another symptom. You sighed in defeat before treating yourself to another numbing mouthful of booze.

Allowing the tears to just run down your face at their very own pace, you simply wanted to get drunk as fast as possible but even that wouldn't be granted to you, a gentle knock on the slightly ajar door pulling you from your thoughts.

"Huh?" You muttered, sitting up straight again and wiping the wetness from your cheeks.

"Hey…are you okay?" The familiar voice belonging to Øystein asked.

His head peaked through the open door, a messy bunch of black hair framing his face in wavy strands.

"Saw you rushing through the yard and thought checking up on you wouldn't hurt…" He slid his lean statue through the small opening, stepping towards you before crouching down to meet your gaze.

"See? That's part of the problem…you, you care and Pelle just…he just sits there." The words blubbered out of you in an uncontrolled rush accompanied by a new surge of hot tears.

"Hey now…", Euronymous quickly sat down, tucking the frizzy hair behind his ears, "What's going on, hm?"

"I'm so sick of this shit, Øystein… I can't help him, I can't fix him and he just pushes me away time and time again. I'm so done with this bullshit." It practically gushed out of your mouth in a poorly choked-back wail.

"There's a whole horde of people out there, Euro, yet I feel so terribly fucking lonely all the time. Everybody's cheering for Mayhem and for Dead, going on about how fucking cool and true he is for what he's doing to himself on stage but you know what?", You tried to stifle your shaky breaths, "It's not cool. None of it. It's actually fucking terrifying…and it's me who's got to stitch him back to gether every damn time."

With every one of your words, Øystein's eyes widened a little more, partly in understanding about just how much his friend was dragging you through but also in plain sympathy for you.

"Come'ere, yeah? C'mon…if it helps you can squeeze me as hard as you want to, okay?" Euronymous spread both his arms, inviting you in for a tight hug.

Not wasting a second thought on it, you leaned in, wrapping your shaking hands around his shoulders to squeeze and press as tightly as you could.

"There you go…that's it, right there." Euronymous encouraged you, the palms of his broad hands resting at the back of your head to soothe you with gentle pets and strokes.

"I wish I could help you but none of us really gets through to him anymore…I'm so sorry." Øystein sighed into the curve of your neck, the tip of his nose almost touching the cold, black leather of your jacket.

"I don't even know what's going on with him anymore. Everything is just so terribly wrong and I don't know how much longer I can do this shit, Euro, I really don't." You sniffled, inevitably having the vastly different scent of Euronymous right in front of you sneaking up into your nostrils.

Unlike Pelle, he smelled like stale cigarette smoke, cheap aftershave and beer…maybe not exactly a crowd pleaser but you found comfort in it.

"It's okay. I don't judge you." He whispered to you in a soft tone and it threatened to break you apart from the inside.

"Thank you…", You croaked into his hair, your voice getting weaker with every letter, "I feel so shitty for thinking about it like that but…but I'm so goddamn tired. I-...I just wanna feel loved again."

"To remind you…there's a whole horde of people out there who love you." He tried to cheer you up but ultimately missed the point.

"Not…not like that. Ugh, I sound stupid…" You felt the need to take the words straight back and to just go with Øystein's attempt of calming you.

"No, you don't, seriously.", Euronymous led his fingers to get lost in your hair, fingertips softly stroking across your scalp down to the nape of your neck, "I can't imagine how you came up with enough energy to stay this long in the first place. We both know it's not his fault, neither is it yours or mine but we've all been watching you breaking away because of him. You're not smiling anymore, not screaming your lungs out at the gigs, you're barely even here anymore…he's eating you up."

"I can't just leave, Øystein…" You gradually loosened your death grip around his torso to lean back, your face wet with slowly subsiding tears.

"I know…all I'm saying is that it might be time to think about yourself a little more. It won't help anybody if you get lost in his chaos, too." Before you could raise your own hand to wipe the sleeve of your jacket across your face, Euronymous was already on it, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

Whilst taking a deep breath to steady yourself a bit more, the two of you just stared at each other for a moment. You followed how he slightly grinded his teeth together, jaws clenching, withholding something you couldn't quite decipher.

"Øystein?" You furrowed your brows a little, the feeling of something being violently off ebbing through your chest.

"I'm sorry…" That's all he offered to you before cupping your face with the full length of his palm and leaning in to press an anything but timid kiss to your trembling lips.

A part of you, the voice of reason within, practically screamed at you to pull away, to scurry back and to let this go down as nothing but an awkward, boozy, little slip-up, but you didn't move by just an inch as the pungent taste of smoked cigarettes and cheap beer swept into your mouth alongside Euronymous' daring tongue. You simply let it happen, allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth and intoxicate you with the dangerously addictive feeling of being wanted, desired by someone.

"Fuck…" You groaned into the nearly bruising kiss, hands reaching out to claw at his utterly worn out Venom shirt to pull him closer to you.

Catching the notion that he had dared to make the right move at the right time, Øystein's palm left your face, both hands roaming over your back down to your ass to simply scoop you into his lap, your legs wrapping themselves around the cold of his bullet-shell belt as the hem of your washed-out, gray denim skirt rode up generously over your fishnet-stocking covered thighs.

"I got you…just hold on to me." Euronymous muttered, trying to catch his breath a little whilst his fingers dug themselves into the curve of your behind, causing you to whine out as you arched your hips impossibly close towards his crotch.

The aching need to feel just something again practically pulsed through every nerve ending and every muscle, pulling you into his tight grasp and for your hands to slip under the soft fabric of his shirt, skin against skin leaving you to crave more. Whilst one of his hands left it's place cupping your ass to hurry down between your bodies, awkwardly fumbling with the buckle of his belt before almost violently pulling down the zipper, a short but heavy pang of guilt jolted through your ribcage, nearly causing you to flinch on the spot. Nothing about this situation at hand was right or somehow, in some crooked way, justifiable to you and yet you made not a single move to stop any of it from happening. You didn’t grasp for Øystein's hand as it hushed from his unzipped pants amidst your legs, the sound of your tights tearing and ripping thundering in your ears, right before curious fingertips brushed over thin lace panties, no. The only reaction it pulled from your body was a needy moan.

"Right there, yeah?" You heard the smirk in his tone without even needing to see it.

Nodding softly, you placed your mouth back onto his, teeth teasingly grazing over his bottom lip.

"Bet that feels even better, babe." At first you didn't know what struck you harder, the endearing pet name or Euronymous' fingers snaking past your slip, dipping right into your soaked folds to draw achingly slow circles around your entrance.

"Please…" You hummed into the kiss, your forehead leaning against his.

"Please, what?", He inquired, fingertips prodding and nudging against your cunt, "Want me to fill you up, no? Such a greedy little thing."

You choked back a whine as Øystein withdrew his hand from your slip to shove the fabric to the side, fingers freeing his rock-hard cock from the confines of his shorts right before thrusting into you with a precise rock of his hips against yours.

"Oh, fuck…" Your moan got lost in his mouth, the delicious feeling of being stretched out so harshly rippling through you.

"How long has it been, huh?" He pushed, drilling himself into you until it threatened to hurt.

"I dunno…four months, maybe five." You couldn't stop your eyes from fluttering shut, the burning heat of arousal and shame creeping into your face in equal parts.

"Yeesh, couldn't leave a girl like you untouched for that long." Euronymous huffed, his other hand steadying your posture with his palm flat against your back as he started rolling his hips, practically bouncing you on his cock.

With your entire body flush with the sensation of Øystein spearheading into you in a firm pace, the last bit of your coherent brain busy muffling and holding back desperate mewls and whimpers, you rendered completely oblivious to what was happening around you…unlike the black-haired guitarist. From the very corner of his eyes, Øystein's attention got pulled towards the semi-open door, the old, wooden floor in front of it creaking treacherously. Just by the way a well familiar pair of thoroughly worn out combat boots barely peaked across the lines of the door frame, he knew that the both of you had been caught right in the act but he didn't so much as even bother to stop from guiding you up and down his throbbing hard on.

"You at least got yourself off here and there, no?" You shook your head.

"Didn't feel right. I- I just hoped things would get back to normal…" You groaned, the sensation of Euronymous' cock stroking over that extra sensitive spot inside of you sending cold, little shivers down your spine.

"Oh, love, then I better make sure to give it to you better than Per ever could…lazy fucker." Øystein scoffed more to his friend and singer hiding next to the door frame than to you but you didn't take any notice of that, your senses way too busy with just keeping it together.

For a moment, Øystein felt actual and very real rage gushing through him. Anger towards his friend for being such an oblivious prick regarding the suffering and all-round neglect he was dragging you through. It was a terribly self-righteous emotion, that he knew for sure, however, he couldn't help himself but to let it fuel the way he rutted into you, burying himself as deep as possible inside of your wet pussy.

The rather morbid thing both of you failed to take notice of was what Dead was doing hidden away in the shadows of the hallway, the crushing humiliation not only going straight to his heart but to his awfully throbbing cock as well, the bitter-sweet masochistic rush leading him to palm himself through his trousers whilst biting down on his fist to not let just one singular sound escape from his twitching lips. The Swede was shamelessly jerking himself off to you getting railed by his closest friend.

"Gonna take good care of you, babe." Øystein groaned in a lust-riddled tone, both of his hands now closing down around your hips to hammer your form onto his cock with every jut and snap of his hips.

It had you bashfully nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, the cigarette smoke soaked leather of his jacked cold against your cheek, whilst you still clawed at his sides underneath his shirt.

Your fingers dug into his skin as you felt your walls starting to flutter and contract around Øystein's hard on, the first crushing jolts of your pent-up orgasm rippling through your body, senses being sent into blissful overdrive.

"Good girl…fuck, pulling me in so hard now, huh?" Euronymous' voice cracked and eventually faltered just like the rolls of his lap against yours.

"Issok…", He talked you through your release, shoving himself balls deep into your spasming cunt before flooding your insides with white-hot ropes of his seed, a guttural groan ripping itself free from the depths of his lungs, "Just let yourself go. I gotchu."

The earth-shattering sensation of all the pent-up sexual desperation mixed in with shame and crushing guilt washing through your system had you biting down on his leather-clad shoulder, a fresh surge of tears threatening to swap over your lower lash line at any second.

"Aw, shit." A sore croak from outside the room led both of you to turn your heads so suddenly that it nearly gave you whiplash.

"The fuck?!" You shrieked out, practically jumping from Øystein's lap whilst he was equally busy with tucking himself back in and getting off the mattress.

"I got this!" Euronymous tried to calm you, awkwardly stumbling away from you before tearing the door open and vanishing into the dark hallway.

For a split second your overworked synapses tried to get a vague grasp on what was going down. Feet were hammering down stairs, noisy commotion erupted from inside the house before the sound of shattering glass and incomprehensible screaming and shouting filled the yard.

"Oh fuck no…" You huffed under your breath, wobbly legs nearly giving out as you tried to pull yourself from the mattress.

As soon as you stood upright again, you felt Øystein's load oozing out of you, soaking the flimsy fabric of your slip with every step you took. You dreaded the scenario that was unfolding outside because the yelling didn't seem to die down but much rather escalate further.

"You fucking traitor!" Pelle's raspy voice cut through the night air, hitting you as soon as you slid out the front door.

"Fucking traitor?!", Øystein spat right back whilst your eyes scanned the scenery anxiously, "You're the spineless loser, Per!"

"You fucked my girlfriend, Øystein!" Dead yelled and with his words you noticed Metallion and Jan Axel staring right at you, nothing but drunk confusion washing over their faces.

"And you pathetic fuck got off to it!" Euronymous had to duck down to dodge an empty beer bottle being sent his way.

"You what?!" You directed the question right at your boyfriend before you noticed a tell-tale damp and soaked-through spot right around his zipper.

"Yes, please tell her how you stood outside the room jerking off to your girl breaking down in front of me, Per!" Your bewildered stare rushed towards Øystein now.

"Huh? You…you saw him or what now?!?" The guitarist shrugged his shoulders and nodded.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" Jan Axel tried to intervene but both Per and Øystein shushed him almost simultaneously.

"You shut the fuck up!" Pelle sneered, looking like he was about ready to throw one of the plenty empty bottles of beer after his drummer too.

"No.", You huffed, wrapping your leather jacket around your torso to shield you from the creeping cold, "He actually got a point, because…what the hell?!"

"Pumpkin, I can explain, I promise." Per raised his hands in a soothing manner but you didn't feel like having any of it.

"Don't you dare sweet-talk me now, Pelle! You've been pushing me away for months but…you get off to, well, this?" You indirectly confirmed all that had been happening between Øystein and you.

"No. Just no. You know what? Fuck you. Fuck this shit. I'm not even remotely drunk enough to deal with this shitshow right now." To undoubtedly cement your point, you took a few swift steps toward Øystein who was looking at you with wide eyes as you fished for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, drawing one for yourself before deliberately putting it to your lips.

"Yes, I fucked Øystein.", You threw your hands into the air after lighting the cigarette, "Maybe I should've done that much sooner, who knows?"

The last sentence was solely aimed to hurt Per as much as he had hurt you.

"Fucking hell, I'm so sick of all this dysfunctional shit…", You just shook your head before heading back inside, "Better none of you disrupt the date I have with a piss-warm bottle of Jägermeister now or you fucking bet I'll cut your dick off!"

#tam rambles #asks are appreciated #asks are always open #rory culkin #rory culkin lords of chaos #lords of chaos #jack kilmer #euronymous x reader #euronymous smut #euronymous #dead lords of chaos #euronymous x fem!reader #dead x fem!reader #jack kilmer smut #jack kilmer x fem!reader #mayhem fic #mayhem

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carpkoinobori · 16 days

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[❣︎] casual — huh yunjin x reader

[𖤐] 0.5/3 [next] [please be aware this is all fiction! none of this is real and idols behavior is not accurately represented.]

song(s): casual - chappel roan | runaway runaway - mars argo | HOT TO GO - chappel roan |

summary: you and your best friend made it to produce 48 together— what led up to the fallout? who is it you’re singing about? what do you do when the stress boils over?

pairing(s): trainee!huh yunjin x trainee!fem!reader

tags: angst, imagined unrequited love, eventual happy ending

wc: 1.1k

cw: implied sexual content, internalized homophobia, period typical homophobia, mentions of dieting.

ex: 135 notes.. thank you all so much!! i didn’t expect anyone to really like it. i hope you enjoy this backstory :-)

also, this is an au, not following real events— y/n and yunjin are 18 and 19 in produce48, yunjin debuts three years later at 22, and y/n at 21.

(not beta read 😭)

you didn’t expect a survival show to be so stressful- now, you were well aware how difficult it’d be, you knew you would have to practice, and sing, and dance, and diet- but, you didn’t expect the constant stress of the possibility of being eliminated every day.

but, you chose this, right? all for her, all for your sun.

“y/n! Come on, let’s practice this final part, yeah? I think I figured out the footwork-“ yunjin mumbled, rambling about something or other. you were distracted by her face, she was soo pretty-

“y/n, are you even listening to me?” she said, grinning. your face turned a pretty shade of red, and you spluttered. “What? No, no! I was totally paying attention, I swear— something about.. footwork?” You guessed, desperately.

“it’s fine, just, come here- I’ll teach you,” she smiled, and it took all you had to not just fall right there.

after one particularly harsh judge had humiliated yunjin, she slammed the door of the room you shared with about two other contestants. they weren’t there, at the moment.

yunjin angrily began to rummage through her things, and you sat up. “jen? What’s wrong? I mean, I know what the judge said was mean but- you know that’s not true, right?” you began, getting up and starting to walk over to her before she whipped her head around, glaring at you.

“It IS fucking true, y/n, just because they always let you fuck up ‘cause the fans love you doesn’t mean you’re suddenly qualified to give advice-” she spat, standing up from her spot on the floor, her fists clenched as she jabbed her finger into your chest harshly. “You probably think you’re so much better than me, don’t you? I bet-” you cut her off, cupping her face in your hands. “jen- jen, I don’t think that, and you do not get to talk to me like that just because you’re mad,” you began, words steady and stern, and when you watched your best friends eyes glaze over, a bit, felt her gaze flicker down to your lips, felt your face flush and felt her lean in—

well, it was all you could do to tug her closer, kissing her, tasting the stupid citrus lip balm she’s used for years, that you’ve thought about every single day of your waking life—

and if someone asked, was it all worth it? the pain, the exhaustion, the work, just for this?

“well,” you’d reply, “oranges were always my favorite fruit.”

you cupped her face with one hand, threading your fingers in her hair with the other, pushing her onto your bed, and it was all teeth, you biting her lip, you moving your hands down, her speaking incoherently.

“please,” she’d breathe out, the words just whispers on the wind. and you’d always been the one under her mercy, begging her to love you- and now here she was, begging for you to touch her. you’d always dreamed of touching the sun. you’d always think of Icarus, in these moments. your wings were yet to melt from the heat and warmth, though, so you figured it was fine.

and, well, the fall would hurt, but it was all you could do, to fall into eachother, again, and again.

waking up was always worse. your dorm mates still weren’t back, they had a penchant to pass out in the practice room. you kinda thanked them, for that.

sometimes you’d wake up in the middle of the night, just so you could see her sleeping. just so you could see her before she would leave in the morning.

yeah, you lived together, but come 8 in the morning, she’d be gone. except for the first time. except for before you fell asleep.

“..y/n?” she asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

“mhm?” you hummed, half asleep in your bed.

“this didn’t mean anything, right? im not mad at you, im sorry. i was just stressed, and frustrated- and- we can still be friends, right? it won’t change?” she whispered, and it was the only time you’ve ever seen her this nervous around you. the first time she had really been vulnerable since you both got on this stupid show.

what changed? was it the having to compete against each other? yeah. it was probably that.

“yeah,” you mumbled, feeling your chest constrict, your heart fracture, tears stinging your eyes, and you were so glad she couldn’t see your face. “yeah, jen- it’s casual. we’re still best friends,” you reassured, giving a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. why were you smiling, anyway? she couldn’t see you. she’s never seen you. “okay, y/n. good night. i love you,” she mumbled, turning to the wall.

“goodnight, jen. i love you,” you whispered, turning your back to her, and staring at the empty bed across the room. wasn’t it poetic that she was in your bed, and you’d never be in hers? you laughed inwardly, no humor in it. you were so, so bitter.

this stupid game kept up, you kept giving in to it, and you kept losing- atleast it gave you writing material, right?

“y/n,” your dorm mate- chaewon, you think? “you should stop,” she murmured. you stared at her through tired eyes. “stop what?” you said, playing dumb. “you know. I think- I think it’s.. it’s not good for you,” she mumbled, uncomfortable. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine,” you assured, giving a well-practiced smile. “Thanks for caring,” you nodded, slipping out of the chair you’ve been sitting in for an hour and a half— instead of sleeping, you’d either be with your “best friend”, or writing about her- god, you were such a lovesick fool. Crumpled paper took up the majority of your desk, and you left it all splayed out, in front of Chaewon, slipping away to go practice till you dropped. The trainee life, you’d think.

“you said/ we’re not together/so now when we kiss/ I have anger issues,”

chaewon stared at the paper, vaguely. she couldn’t read english, obviously, and was half tempted to put it in a translator, but she just turned around, leaving the room as well to go practice.

“and I try to be the chill girl/that holds her tongue and gives you space/i try to be the chill girl/but honestly/im not,”

and then she got eliminated. and you broke down. and you lived in that practice room. and your roommates would stare at you in pity, and you hated it, you hated being something pitiable.

you hated loving your best friend. your fall hurt like hell, your stupid wax wings broke. you didn’t fall into her, no— you fell into the sea, cold, salty, rough— you hated the cold. but maybe you’d get used to it.

hundreds of texts unsent:

“jen, I love you,” [delete]

“jen, I miss you,” [delete]

“jen, did you love me? do you miss me?” [delete]

“I’m so sorry,” [sent]

“are you okay?” [sent]

“will it be okay?” [delete]

“will you catch me?” [delete]

“why won’t you talk to me?” [sent]

[reply] “I need some space,”

[reply] “I can’t take the reminder,”

“okay, I’m sorry. I love you,” [sent]

[you can not reply to this conversation. message unable to send]

and nearly 7000 miles away, there is a girl crying in New York City. because she loves her best friend. and her best friend said she didn’t mean it.

and nearly 7000 miles back, there is a girl crying in Seoul, because she loves her best friend. and her best friend (will) not love her back.

hi! backstory to good luck babe. i hope you all enjoy this, I wasn’t expecting so many notes on the last post… thank you all for reading! please feel free to send anons or reqs or just tell me about your day.. hope your day is great! :3

#le sserafim x reader #le sserafim x fem reader #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim #huh yunjin x fem reader #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin #yunjin x reader #yunjin x fem!reader #f!reader #y/n and yunjin kinda toxic #it’s ok though #carps masterlist #carps works

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sunflawyer · 4 months

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｢ A gentle kiss won't hurt, right? 」

art trade from @hombrediablo !!!! thank you snickers this is so beautiful 😭😭🫶🧡 love it soo much im tearing up....

tags: @kaibaspuppy @ousama @qilinkisser @bunbunsheart @earthtoluisa @all4theluvoflizzy @koda-selfships @meowtroidvanya @michaelmeowndo @funkedge @starshroom-doodles @chiakiselfships @xxmellochii @tulaytullahs @7suno @pitchandaj @kittycatkissez @scientistkerberos @kits-ships @literally-just-there @melting-icarus @plague-of-nice @gogolsbf @millionmix @felixrichtershubby @showyoutheworldinmyeyes @hvemind @flyingfishhugs @canon-can-fight-me @frozenhi-chews @timespaceandinterim @sweetselfships @eternally-smitten @sxaras @botanists-little-cookie (feel free to tell me if you dont wanna be tagged!)

#⚖️🌻#[ together in the sunflower field 🌻]#sunflawyer #sunflower puppy!#self ship #self insert #oc x canon #f/o community #jimmy mcgill #self insert community #self insert art #self ship art #self ship community

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marvellous1917 · 11 months

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Hello people, if you want to be tagged in the part 2 of Icarus, please send me an ask so I can do that!

P.s- im flawed at the response to Icarus, so thank you guys so much! <3

#Ace chats

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angelsanarchy · 2 months

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Fever Dreams: Mike x Y/N One Shot Series PRT 07

Tagging: @icarus-star @chainsawgvtsfvck @romanroyapoligist @liquidsmoothdomme @madamemaximoff06 @drazenka @blacksoul-27 @444rockstargf @kappasbbgirl @luzclarita57 @tempt-ress @vixenhatesyou

Sicky and Mike walked into a bar and the first thing he noticed was Y/n behind the bar. It was pretty packed up for a Wednesday night but Y/n was in her element. She had a very personable attitude when it came to random people. She treated everyone like she has known them forever. Even when people would get annoying, she kept her wits about her when kicking them out of the bar or cutting them off.

"Don't think you're getting anything for free." Sicky commented sitting on a barstool. Mike sat next to him as she approached.

"Decided to ugly up the place tonight?" She popped a cap off a beer and put it in front of Sicky.

"I figured I would show Mighty Mouse around your real 9 to 5." Sicky smirked as she stopped in front of Mike.

"How sweet. How's my favorite cowboy tonight?" She smiled leaning against the bar.

"Better now. This place is nice." He looked around and she nodded.

"Thanks, it's my baby. What can I get you to drink? First one is on the house, everything after is double." She winked.

"Just a beer is fine. I'm not particular." Mike trusted her taste. She grabbed him a beer that was noticeably not the same as what Sicky ordered and opened it for him.

"The only rules of my bar is to keep it clean. No drugs in here, no fighting and if you play pool, play straight or not at all." Y/n explained. Sicky grunted as he sipped his beer.

"She's a real stickler about the no fighting rule." Sicky elbowed Mike and he almost spit his beer out.

"You boys play nice. I've got a job to do." Y/n walked back to the end of the bar and greeted new customers. Mike sat back on his barstool and looked around the bar.

"You see those guys over there, with the face tattoos and gold chain? That's some of Keller's guys. They control the pill train on the lower East side. You don't talk business with them ever or Leff will take your eye out." Sicky explained.

"Pills...like what my mom was into or-" Sicky cut him off.

"No more so party pills, uppers, E, Molly. Young kiddy shit." Sicky clarified.

"The Spaniards by the door are Alverez Kings. Most of our parts and smuggled goods run through them. They're not bad to have a beer with but don't drink hard liquor with them. They get up in arms when you call them Mexican." Sicky chuckled sending a head nod towards them. They responded calling him a gringo and nodding back.

"They pussy that runs and out of here is night club pussy so be careful who you go home with or you'll wake up without a wallet and pricey belongings." Sicky blew a kiss at a leggy blonde near the jukebox.

"I'm sure they all aren't so bad." Mike smiled at one who was eyeing him.

"Yeah okay, you keep thinking that lad. I'm going to find me some tail. Stay out of trouble." Sicky slapped Mike on the back before joining the blonde who had been flirting with him. Mike finished off his beer and before he could even lift his head, Y/n had appeared in front of him with another and a smile.

"You aren't looking to mingle with the many gorgeous women?" Y/n took a sip of his beer before handing it to him.

"I am mingling with a gorgeous woman." Mike flirted making her laugh.

"One that might actually lay you tonight." She teased.

"Hey I ordered furniture. Who's to say it can't be your lucky night." He reached out for her hand and she laughed letting him hold her hand.

"Yeah? What did you order?" She leaned on the bartop as he opened his phone to show her the pictures of the couch and few different things he got.

"I like this one. I thought for sure you would get a leather couch." She teased.

"Gets too cold in the winter to have a leather couch. Wouldn't want you getting cold." He smirked watching her scroll through the rest of the pictures until a photo of his cock popped up.

"Oh-" He went to grab the phone and she leaned back with it.

"No no, we're here now. It's best we look at it together." She taunted holding the phone away from him.

"Did you suddenly develop shame in the last 5 seconds or can I look?" She asked knowing the game they played with one another was fun but consent was important to her.

"I mean...it's not recent so-" He blushed slightly but she smiled leaning against the bar again.

"Who are you taking dick pics for then?" She asked curiously.

"I got bored my first day in New York. It's a few months old." He watched her face as she gazed at the picture of his cock. It wasn't a bad photo but he wished it was a better one.

"It's not a bad cock. I could work with that." She bit her lip.

"Yeah?" Mike licked his lips as she leaned closer towards him.

"Better hurry up and get that couch." She handed him his phone back and he felt a shiver run up his arm when she ran her nails over his wrist.

He couldn't think of anything to say but before he could, a loud male voice boomed over the music and stalked right up to the bar, leaning across and grabbing Y/n by the chin to plant a sloppy kiss on her lips. Mike's blood started to boil and he felt a crimson flush run up his neck.

"Hey baby, what are you still doing here?" The tall guy said letting go of her chin.

"I'm working clearly. I told you I wouldn't be over until late." She reminded him, glancing over to see Mike stewing. The guy followed her gaze and chuckled.

"You letting kids drink now? You trying to catch a charge?" He asked making Mike glare.

"Malik-"

"I'm kidding. What's your name kid?" Malik hit his shoulder playfully and Mike stood up from his barstool.

"This is Mike, Leff's nephew. I told you about him." Mike looked over at Y/n intrigued that she's spoken to this goon about him.

"Oh yeah, Billy the kid. How's it going man?" He shook Mike's hand and Mike gave him a nod.

"It's going...Marcus was it?" Mike knew his name but he didn't care to repeat it.

"Malik. Do you mind if I steal her away from you? We've got plans." He said helping her climb over the bar. She landed on her feet and put her hand on his chest.

"Let me say goodbye and I'll meet you outside." Y/n said making Malik throw his hand up in a wave to Mike before walking away.

"Don't get too drunk and don't let any of those girls take your wallet." Y/n smiled at him. He didn't bother responding to her, he just turned back to the bar and watched her run out of the bar with the Goliath sized guy named Malik. She had told him she didn't have a boyfriend but apparently she had someone, a very large someone that could probably crush every bone in his body.

Tonight was a drink your sorrows kinda night and NOT think about someone else getting to fuck Y/N tonight.

#Mike #Mike x Y/N #5lbs of Pressure #One Shot Series #Fever Dreams #Fever Dreams Series #Rory Culkin #Culkin Cult

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