#(Its in the right spot now sorry about that)

[eowynstwin]

peristalsis - iv

selkie!soap x reader. depression. suicidal ideation. strangers to "lovers." social isolation. self loathing. hint of neurodivergent reader. manipulative soap. . Running away from life to the Scottish Hebrides, you meet a man who won't leave you alone. . Masterlist. Ao3.

previous

The other side of the bed is empty the next morning, when you wake up.

You feel it as the dregs of sleep slough off—an absence of weight. The heavy drape of the bedsheets around you. The lone sound of your own breathing, and nothing more—

It shouldn’t punch a hole in your chest. You shouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. What is for other people is not for you.

But you are. It does.

The little speck of hope that has survived every attempt of yours to exterminate it had flared a little brighter, fed by Johnny’s attention. A distant star in a clouded sky, finally reaching earth with its light. Stupid. You know better by now, and it should too. You’ve done this before, a hundred different times, a hundred different ways. The outcome is always the same.

You sweep your hand over the empty spot—

It’s still warm.

Your eyes snap open. At the same moment, you hear movement from somewhere else in the cottage, and then, through the open bedroom door, the warm aroma of coffee and cooking food wafts in.

You sit up. Pull the sheets up with you, clutched to your chest.

“Johnny?” you call. Tentative. Unsure.

“Aye!” a cheerful brogue responds from the kitchen. “Don’ move a muscle, I’ll be right there.”

Something sharp and hot pushes through your veins; the corners of your vision darken with it.

You realize you’ve stopped breathing, and inhale. Your need to be contrary subsumes completely underneath your shock. You sit completely still, suspended in place, as something sizzles in the kitchen.

He traipses into the room in nothing but an apron, carrying a tray with two plates of food and two mugs of coffee, which he sets on the end of the bed before he slides into the empty spot beside you.

You stare as if at a wild animal—if he notices your surprise, he doesn’t take it into account as he curls an arm around your neck.

“Mornin,’” he says, dragging you in for a kiss.

A long kiss—his mouth parts yours to permit his tongue, which he slides against yours as his fingers press upward into the soft underside of your chin. He inhales deeply before his lips leave yours, and you reel, listing toward him, as he pulls away.

“Sleep well?” he asks, hand dropping to your sternum to drag his fingertips between your breasts.

You blink several times. “Uh. Yes.”

“Bet you did,” he says with a grin. Then, he taps your neck—ink-blotting soreness with ungentle fingertips. “Sorry about this. Got too into it.”

He does not sound sorry in the slightest.

“It’s fine,” you say anyway, still blinking in whiplash.

He leans away to pull the breakfast tray up into both of your laps. “Made a classic English breakfast this time, but you eat what you like, bonnie.”

A classic English breakfast turns out to be eggs, sausage, bacon, beans, seared cherry tomatoes, and toast, which Johnny digs into with the gusto of the starving. You select a crunchier-looking strip of bacon and break it between your teeth, but you don’t pay much attention to the taste.

Johnny. His mohawk is mussed from the night’s sleep, and other than the apron, he really does appear to be completely naked. It seems like the first thing he did, when woke up, was not shower or dress, but head to the kitchen to start cooking.

For you. Again.

“Why?” you ask aloud.

He turns to you, one cheek rounded with food, dark brows lifted over bright eyes. “Hm?”

“Why did you make breakfast? You could’ve just left.”

Surprise on his face, freezing his expression. Then, consternation, dragging it down. “I wouldnae do that to you, bonnie.”

He says it so gravely—as if even the notion that he would make an early getaway amounts to betrayal on the deepest level.

“It’s,” you say, “it’s fine. It’s not like this…like…”

Like this meant anything. But didn’t it? You meant to punish yourself, with him as your scourge. A necessary reminder—a bitter pill you must swallow, over and over again.

Who better to deliver it than Johnny, because, hopes aside, he with his rockstar grin and wandering hands had not given off the slightest indication that he would stay the morning after a one-night stand. Let alone get up before you to make breakfast.

You had relied on that.

“I wouldnae do that,” he repeats.

Instead—here he is. Warm, bare shoulder against yours. Lashes dark over an insistent gaze.

You break eye contact, looking at your plate. “Whatever,” you say, for lack of any other response.

You pick at your food—it’s good, same as the meal he made you last night. Not pretentious, like he’s trying to impress you, but genuine and hearty. Tasty, the way breakfast in bed should be.

Puzzle pieces forced to fit together, despite belonging to different areas of the composition. A round peg the perfect diameter for a square hole. Incongruous. Confusing. Untrustworthy.

You continue to study him out of the suspicious corner of your eye as he goes back to eating, though it isn’t exactly any hardship. It seems to be a rare sunny day on the island, with warm, buttery light streaming in from the window. It catches the dark hair on his forearms, casts the sculpted expanse of his freckled shoulders in stronger repose.

You see it again—the wound on the side of his head. Nearly hidden by the dark stubble of shaved hair, but not invisible.

“What happened?” you ask.

He looks at you with a question on his face, and then sees the direction of your gaze. He nods to himself, as if he’s been expecting you to ask this whole time.

“Told you I served,” he said, setting down his fork. Then he notices you aren’t eating much. “Ach, bonnie, don’ let it get cold. You eat, and I’ll talk, aye?”

Begrudgingly, you spear some egg and clamp it between your teeth. He smiles indulgently, and continues.

“So you met Price. Was on an operation with him in London. Chasin’ this real bad fucker in the subway tunnels. He was tryin’ to set off a bomb, but we got to him first. Well, we chased him off the payload, anyways, n’ I’m demo, so I’m the one can defuse it.”

He looks at you. You bite down on a corner of toast.

“Guess he figured that part out, ‘cause not long after I get to the wires he comes back. Nearly takes Price out, so I get after him. Stupid mistake. Price can take care of himself, an’ we had backup. Fucker ended up shooting me in the head.”

Halfway swallowing that same bite of toast, you choke. “You—you got shot in the head?”

He nods. “Aye.”

You look again at the scar near his temple. A starburst, in a whorl of dark hair. Dead center in the silhouette of his profile, as if a paper target at a shooting range.

“Johnny—how the fuck are you still alive?”

He leans back against the headboard, folding one arm behind his head, exposing a thatch of curly dark hair in his pit. He runs his hand through the back of his mohawk, mouth canted at an angle.

“Got no fuckin’ idea, bonnie,” he says.

The expression on his face is, perhaps, the most human you’ve ever seen it. Consternation, maybe. Confusion. Aggravation. You’re not sure what you would call it, but just looking at him, you understand that that exact question is one he’s been asking himself since it happened.

Asking, without finding an answer.

“I’m,” you stammer, “I’m sorry. That’s a stupid thing to—I’m sorry.”

He turns to you and smiles. Chagrined, but forgiving. “It’s all right, bonnie. Have some coffee for me, why don’t you?”

You lift a mug and sip. He’s added cream and sugar to it, the way you’d made it yesterday morning.

“So, I survived it,” he goes on. “Woke up in the hospital a few days later. One in a million chance, they said, but I still had to learn to walk again, an’ I was out. Out, out. Medical discharge, thank you for your service, enjoy the rest of your life. The boys went off to kill the guy in Kastovia or Russia or somethin.’”

Quick as the bullet in his brain. Matter-of-fact. The story ending without him, with no hand reaching out to pull him back in.

Well, not quite—

“And then John Price came here with you,” you say.

He gives you a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes; strained, much like the only smiles you have to offer these days. “Nah. Came out by myself. He came after I’d been here awhile. Told me he was ‘worried about me.’”

The way this conversation is supposed to go, this would be the part where you would say of course he was worried.

“But he didn’t get it,” you say instead, seeing it etched into the grooves of his expression.

Johnny, in exile, alive when he shouldn’t be. Reckoning with the fact that everything he cared about did not care nearly as much about him. Figuring out how to live without anyone else.

Breakfast turns inert on the plate when you look down at it.

“No,” Johnny says, private and intimate, thick as molasses. “He didnae.”

“You seem okay now,” you say, diaphragm pushing the words up your trachea like debris on an incoming tide.

The Johnny you know—the smug, satisfied prick able to laugh at anything and everything—slides back into place.

“Yeah, can’t hide that from you, can I, bonnie?”

He looks at where you’re still holding the sheet to your chest, to the imprint of his teeth on your neck, and then back into your eyes. You know exactly what he’s about to suggest, and you intercept as he opens his mouth to suggest it.

“I’m still eating breakfast,” you say, forcing a whole cherry tomato into your mouth. It pops and squirts between your teeth.

He grins—too knowing. “Ah, that’s alright. M’ takin’ you to Callanish today, and I’ve got a’catch your supper first,” he says.

With that, he slides the tray fully onto your lap and rises, stretching his arms above his head with his back to you, tensing and releasing the muscles as if for your benefit.

“Callanish?” you ask, swallowing.

“Aye, on Lewis.” Then he turns around and, beating a forkful of eggs halfway up, kisses you on the mouth. “Why don’t you take a walk? Pretty today. I’ll be back ‘round noontime.”

Something hard in your chest, held tight between your lungs. Pressure bending the lid upwards.

“I didn’t say I was going,” you reply, but Soap just laughs at you.

He disappears from the bedroom, and you hear him retrieving his clothes from wherever he’d thrown them the night before. You start to shake with the effort of holding in, listening with straining ears as he dresses.

“Left some lunch in the fridge for you!” he calls, and in a stroke of bright luck you hear the front door open and shut before there’s any chance for you to respond.

Wind strokes its fingers through the thatches of the roof. Stillness retakes the vacated space.

You eventually bring the dishes to the sink, tray held in front of you like a shield, as if wary of some predator hiding just around the counter. You approach the fridge and crack it open carefully, imagining a wire you don’t want to snap. There’s a sandwich on the middle shelf, sitting on a plate, wrapped in cellophane.

It breaks open.

Finally, you are alone.

You take the walk.

The sky is nearly cloudless, and the sunlight has transformed the island’s greys into a storm of jewel greens, with what is likely the last warm breeze of the year dancing across fronds of tall grasses. Clouds tower in the sky as if composed and painted there. You lock up the cottage behind you and find a walking trail to put your feet on.

Johnny.

It’s as quiet on the island as you’d hoped. No road noise. No humming power lines, or distant radio on someone else’s balcony. You can hear tiny insects singing together in the sedge, sea birds calling to each other. The voices of colliding winds arguing like old friends in the wide sky above you.

No other walkers on the path. It’s out of season for tourists, the nice weather a rare gift for the people who belong here and them alone.

Johnny.

You’ve tried to be happy. You have.

All you know is that when things start going well, it doesn’t last long.

You don’t know when it began—years ago, maybe, when you first noticed it. The pattern. Something you think of as a chill; rapid cooling, thermal shock cracking the facade.

It happens like this: you find out about group chats you aren’t a part of. Dinners you weren’t invited to. Conversations you might’ve enjoyed, that happened without you.

A problem. A serious one. But you were solution-minded.

For a long time, you puzzled it out. Acknowledged that the common denominator was you, in every circumstance—and so you looked at yourself. Found your flaws. Stared open-eyed into the mirror and confronted your own lack, internalized that no one owed you what you wanted from them just because you wanted it.

Love is action, isn’t it?

So you tried. You really did. You wrote down people’s birthdays. You invited them out for coffee. You commented on their Instagram posts. You messaged first, every time you’ve thought of them, memorized details about their lives, gave them plenty of space to talk about themselves—

After all, no one wants a friend absorbed in themself. People like to be remembered. Thought of. Considered.

You read books others recommended. You watched their favorite movies. Spent evenings catching up on shows they liked so that you could always have something to talk about with them, because that’s how it happens, right? Mychorrizae for the roots between trees. Fertilized ground.

It worked, for a while. And you nurtured the hope that, perhaps, there would be space for you, that something wonderful might eventually germinate.

Maybe conversations would loop back to you. Maybe all you’d done would be returned in kind.

Exhaustion bared a preliminary truth: it would not.

Puzzling more. The next solution presented itself—people don’t stand in front of mirrors all day. If all you do is echo them, what interest will they have in you? You provide nothing new, nothing more than what they already have.

Human beings love novelty, after all. Something new and shiny to turn in the light at different angles. You needed to gleam so brightly that what you’d been seeking all along could see you well enough to find you.

So you worked on yourself.

You took classes you’d been swearing to take for years. Joined a gym looking for endorphins. Dove into crafts, walking groups, trivia nights at the bar. Wrote out a cleaning schedule for your small apartment and kept to it. You spritzed your pillows with lavender, and ate more fruit.

Joined forums for things you liked. Got certifications for work and then chased down the raises they entitled you to. Went to interesting restaurants, found tiny little card shops or foreign grocery stores to explore. Learned to make Pad Thai from scratch.

Rounded yourself out. That’s what you did—you took the raw block of yourself and chiseled down into it, to set free whatever you found inside.

For another while, it was enough. Endorphins make people happy, and all that. And it seemed to be enough, becoming to attract; drops of water usually obey the laws of cohesion.

Only, in the middle of it, you observed the exact same phenomena as before.

Mirrors of yourself in others. People making the same efforts—which bore a richer harvest than you ever had available to reap. Bounties so plentiful they could barely hold it in their arms.

And you, close beside them, trying, and trying, and trying.

Hairline cracks forming.

In the end, still alone.

The teeth of the preliminary truth fit into the lock holding all the rest, and turned open the latch. They flooded your stomach in a rush, expanding, shattering their container, so abundant that they left no room for anything else. And they all connected, ligaments spiderwebbing inward to an undeniable nucleus—

There is something deeply, deeply wrong with you.

Invisible to you, but obvious to everyone else. A thing you cannot fix. A thing you cannot medicate. A thing you cannot self-care away. Unobservable when you look at it; happening just outside your perception.

Something you manage to hide, even unaware of its existence, only for a short while, before it spills out of you and makes a mess for all to see, entirely without you knowing it.

You do not know what it is. You’ve looked and looked and looked for it, and have not found it. You’ve sanded all the edges of yourself, hoping you might unknowingly catch it—but whatever it is must grow back, like a lizard’s tail or the arm of a starfish.

It must be ugly. It must be so shocking that when it rears its head, people feel so sorry for you for bearing it that they’d feel guilty rejecting you outright, and so they recede from you slowly. Masking pity with compassion, and hoping you won’t notice.

There is nothing good enough about you to accommodate for whatever it is. No matter what you do, you cannot make up for it.

So here you are, on a dying island in the North Atlantic. Far away from temptation—from what you can only, inevitably, ruin.

Hounded by a man who it would be madness to think cannot see that.

You watch one foot swing in front of the other, barely leaving any prints in the hard, packed soil exposed by every walker who’s come before you. You hadn’t brought sunglasses with you, assuming that you wouldn’t need them, and the late morning light is too blinding to look too far ahead of you.

Johnny.

It isn’t about you, whatever his interest is. You see that very clearly now.

You picture him—a special forces grunt, riding high on his own masculinity, suddenly cut down. Ripped away from everything that made him him. Cut off from anyone who might be halfway capable of understanding how that might feel.

And you—a lone woman, marginally fuckable. Obviously flawed goods. An empty well of self-esteem waiting to be filled.

Someone he can impress with a wink and a flex, and make himself feel better taking care of.

He’s enjoying getting to play suitor—that’s all. You don’t think you’ve seen many women your age on the island, so for him, this must be a rare opportunity. You can’t, you suppose, blame him too much. You understand what he’s doing, and why.

You’ve done it yourself. Chosen a likely candidate and thrown all your feelings at them until you’ve felt better.

That’s how people are, in the end—that’s how you are. People look to others to get what they want out of them, and in Johnny’s case, he’s getting it. Not even two days, and you spread your legs for him. You let him come inside of you with barely even a token fuss, because he felt you up and smiled the whole time doing it.

He’s using you. The same way you’re using him.

It’s a shitty thing to do. You are a shitty person for doing it.

And so is he.

Maybe that’s why you’re letting him.

When you return to the cottage, you find the door unlocked, and Johnny on the couch with a romance paperback open in one hand. He turns to grin at you when you walk in, and tosses the book on the coffee table without marking his place when he rises. Today, he’s wearing a dark sweater over yet another kilt, but this time—

“Your—fur, thing, is missing,” you say, in lieu of greeting.

He looks down at his hips, patting his thighs with his hands. “My pelt? Ah, yeah.” He grins. “Threw it off in a hurry, can you blame me? Couldnae find it. I’m no’ worried, it’ll turn up. You ready to go?”

You frown. “I guess.”

“Good! I packed your bag for ya already, but you migh’ wan’ to check if I missed anything.”

Your frown harder. “You—what? You packed my bag? Why would I need that?”

You swear his eyes twinkle at you. “Is a six hour boat ride up to Lewis, hen, an’ six hours back, no’ counting how long y’wanna stay at Callanish. Probably dock overnight.”

“I never said I wanted to go!” you snap, marching past him toward the bedroom.

“A’thought we were past that!” he calls after you.

You find your carry-on open on the bed, and furiously upturn it, dumping everything out—it disgorges its contents like intestines spilling from a slit belly. Three romance novels. Toiletry bag, phone charger, jewelry bag, a shirt mismatched to a pair of pants it’s crumpled up with. One pair of socks. No bra, no panties—and you think Johnny might have a shred of decency after all, but when you go to your suitcase, you find your carefully folded rows of underwear haphazardly unfolded, thoroughly pawed through anyway.

Johnny comes into the room as you stand up with appropriate undergarments in your hands, ire shoving smog from your lungs.

“You’re no’ gonna need those, bonnie,” he says with, the ever-present smirk.

“Fuck you,” you snap. You have never wanted to slap someone so much in your life, but somehow, you know he would catch your wrist in the attempt, and just use his grip to pull you in.

And you’d let him.

“Yeah, that’s why.”

You scoff, and go to repack your bag, folding your clothes and tetrising everything together so it will stand on its own when put down, ignoring Johnny’s leering until you turn around. You make no effort to hide how much you’re grumbling about fucking assholes with fucking boats thinking they’re going to get laid again just because they got their dick wet once.

You sling the carry-on over your shoulder once it’s packed and zipped—fully intending to complain the whole way, even as you go along with his nonsense.

It doesn’t feel good, exactly, but you don’t quite feel your stomach up in knots. You feel clear, at least. You know what’s going on. You know the limits of this dynamic. You can deal with it.

“Oh, one thing,” Johnny says, then sticks one hand into a pocket in his kilt.

He withdraws your phone.

Whole again, back together with a gleaming new screen. Nested back in its protective case.

“Saw you dropped it, so I took it to Castlebay to get it fixed,” he says, holding it out to you like a dog proud of the task it’s completed. “No’ a lot of signal ‘round here, but wanna make sure you can get to me if you need to.”

The words enter your hearing like cotton swaps, blurring the deeper they penetrate. You take it from him without a word. You tap the screen—there almost certainly had been signal in town, and repair places usually charge phones for free.

Nothing.

Just the time, and the stock background you never changed.

Stone lungs in your chest. In—one, two three. Hold. Out—three, two, one.

“Thank you,” you say, the words dropping like pebbles from your tongue.

“You’re welcome,” he says cheerily. “An’ I didnae know wha’ y’liked to read so I picked my favorites.” He quirks his brows. “Thought we migh’ get some ideas.”

“Okay,” you say. “Let’s go.”

He makes you brush past him on your way out of the bedroom, and follows on your heels close behind, enough that you can smell him, axe and diesel and salt spray and all.

Too close—because, when you catch sight of something odd, you stop in your tracks, and he runs into you, having to catch you before he knocks you over over. Hands wrap warm around your upper arms, big enough to shackle.

There—wedged in the lintel, above the front door. Barely visible from this angle. A sliver of white spattered with grey. You’re not sure what you’re seeing, until—

“Johnny, is that your—pelt?” you say, frowning.

You point toward it; Johnny’s chin rests on top of your head, hands squeezing. Chest hot at your back.

“Look at that,” he murmurs. “How did that end up there?”

It looks well-packed into the angle of the thatch roof meeting the wall; nothing tossed away in a hurry, the way you imagine Johnny undressed the previous night, could have ended up where the pelt is now.

It was obviously shoved there.

Moonlit eyes dance in your dreaming memory.

You turn around to look at him. You open your mouth to speak, but there are no words waiting to leave it—and he beats you before you can come up with any.

“Why don’ you head down to the beach, an’ I’ll lock up here?” he says, looking down at you with pleased, half-lidded eyes.

A killer whale will toy gleefully with its prey. For hours, flinging it back and forth, punting it through the air with powerful flips of its tail. Whatever animal unlucky enough to have encountered it has no escape—it spends its last moments thrown skyward, soaring through the only habitat it could never understand, before spinning back down to sea, pulled back home by gravity’s ignorant love.

Too stunned on impact to be able to swim away. Still breathing—the body unaware that its life has already ended. Until the teeth closing around its neck is the only mercy it will beg for.

“Okay,” you gasp out, stepping back away from him. He watches as you escape, smiling slightly. In no rush.

Out the cottage door and down the path on shaking legs—you retreat to the kayak waiting on the sand, heart pounding against your sternum again, bolting from something that isn’t chasing you. Your nerves feel raw beneath your skin, unclosed circuits buzzing.

The short burst of warm weather is rapidly cooling; a passing breeze carries the chill of a cold night oncoming. You realize you left Johnny’s jacket in the cottage, but—you’re not going back for it. You don’t want to see whatever you left behind there.

Then you hear Johnny’s footsteps approaching. You jolt, tense—readying to flee. Turning, all you see is him holding the plated sandwich as he crosses the beach, jacket draped over the bend of his elbow.

“Forgot some things after all,’” he says, grinning—teeth clean and sharp.

“Oh,” you say, trying to keep the tremble from your voice, “yeah.”

You take it from him, and see that your hands are shaking. If he notices, he doesn’t comment.

If he notices, he’s probably enjoying it.

“Let’s get goin’ then!” he enthuses, taking your bag and setting it in the kayak.

There is no pelt around his hips.

next chapter early access

a/n: I won't lie, this was a rough one to write. Part of the prose of this chapter is inspired by september is a weary month by Yasmin Belkhyr. Not sure if this is the proper attribution but it's all I can find.

[smallestapplin]

A kiss for the road

Arthur Morgan x traveling doctor!Reader

Warnings : no TB au, fluff, talks of some minor injuries, playful banter, established relationship.

This was commissioned by @yanban-san !

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The outlaw groans as he slowly rides into town, his horse taking a leisurely pace just so their rider doesn’t get jostled too much. Entering a familiar town was just what Arthur needed, he knew the right places to avoid attention. His shoulder aches, the cut on his cheek stopped oozing blood a while back, no doubt you’re going to be upset with him over that.

But you’re better than trying to patch it up at camp by himself.

Arthur told himself he wouldn’t fall, he’s not a good man, you deserve better than an outlaw like him, you deserve someone you could show off, someone you can go shopping with. He tsks at himself, so much for that plan. Snapping from his thoughts once his horse stopped moving, he found himself in front of a familiar little shop.

A traveling doctor, going from small town to small town to help people.

You’re too good for him. His blue eyes linger over your open sign showing him you must still be in your little traveling cart. The cowboy can’t stop the small smile from appearing on his face, knowing you aren’t going to be very pleased with him getting into more trouble, especially after you told him just a week ago to take it easy.

Well, he supposes it has its upsides.

Hopping off his horse, he ties her reins to the post near your open sign before he picks up the sign and flips it to ‘closed’, and just walks right in with no knocking. He spots you on the other side of the cart back turned to the door, fiddling around with tools he doesn’t quite remember the names of.

“Sorry, just one moment please. Terribly sorry about that, how can I-“ you pause mid sentence as your eyes lock onto your favorite cowboy, taking in the bruises over his cheeks, some hidden just beneath his shirt, he looks like a mess.

Arthur grabs his hat, taking it off and placing it over his chest.

“Sorry darlin’, it seems I got a few new wounds. Care to treat me, doc?”

Like his words snapped you from your thoughts as you rushed to him, gently grabbing his arms and moving him to take a seat. Oh Arthur knows he should feel bad about worrying, and he’d hate to admit it, but he finds himself enjoying your fretting, how you rush around grabbing things to clean and patch him up.

“Oh my god, Arthur! How many times do I have to tell you to be careful? Heaven and stars above you’re lucky you haven’t gotten any infections.”

He hisses under his breath, feeling you press antibacterial cleaner to his cheek. But he never takes his eyes off you, taking in your focused expression as you easily patch up his cheek.

You go to scold him more after you’re finished placing the bandage on his cheek, just for him to grab your wrist, carefully pulling you closer until your face is mere inches from his. Your cheeks burn at how close he is, but you can’t help but lean into him. Your hands on his shoulders balancing yourself as your lips finally meet his chapped ones, his hands move placing one on your lower back, and the other on your hip holding you close to him.

you’re surrounded by him, his warmth, his scent, god how you’ve missed him. your mind muddled even as he pulls his lips off yours, resting his forehead to yours.

“Am I forgiven, Doc?”

you blink once, twice, then several more times as you collect yourself, finally moving away from him to properly stand.

“I…suppose, but that depends if you have any more injuries.” You give him a pointed look with your hands on your hips.

“Now, why would you think I got any more wounds?” He feigns ignorance, a playful grin on his face as he watches you narrow your eyes at him in a playful return.

“Cause this is you we are talking about, Mr.Morgan. The second I let you leave this cart, you’ll have a new injury from lord knows where.”

He raises his hands up in mock surrender before he moves around, making sure his bad shoulder was the one facing you, his back now towards you while he places his hat next to him and unbuttoning his shirt, just enough to free his shoulder to show you. You want to scold him more as you take in the new injury, looking at how bruised his flesh is around the gash.

“How the hell did you manage that?”

Arthur tenses for a moment only to relax under your gentle touch, leaning against the warmth of your hand.

“Dumbest way possible, surely.”

You chuckle at his words as you begin to ready to clean the area.

“Oh, and how's that?”

“Finished a bounty, nice reward out of it too I can treat you after this. But, on the way back to camp some crazy jumped from the tree line and spooked my horse, threw me right off and well…there was a well placed rock right there.”

He can’t even see your face but he can hear you biting back your laughter. Arthur rolls his eyes.

“Yeah yeah laugh it up, infamous gunslinger lost a fight to a rock.”

You finally can’t hold back your snickers, trying not to laugh too hard so you can see what you’re doing. Arthur grits his teeth, feeling your gloved hands brushing across the gash, listening to you hum.

“Well, luckily for you this cut isn’t too bad, you’re free from needing stitches, but I need you to tak it easy, it won’t heal right if you lift too much or go on crazy missions, alright?”

“Oh darlin’ you worry too much.”

“Arthur, I’m serious, you could risk infection and the area getting worse.” You get some gauze, wrapping it around his shoulder to make sure it’s secure, “You’ll need to come back everyday until it’s closed so I can monitor it, okay?”

Arthur looks back to you, his eyes meeting your worried filled ones, how did he get so lucky? What did he do to deserve another chance at love? He didn’t know, but he knows he’s not going to let you slip away from him.

“Sweetheart, you know I’ll always come back to you, all that worryin’ ain’t good for ya.”

“I can’t help it, I love you too much, I alway worry about you.” You rest your head on his good shoulder, hands clinging to his shirt as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear.

“I love you too, sugar, now come ‘ere, how much do I owe ya?” He swivels around to face you while he fixes up his shirt.

“Really? Something tells me you just like getting kisses.” You chuckle, a bashful smile crossing your lips.

He’s such a gentleman for an outlaw, and ever the giving lover, how did you get so lucky?

“If it helps you stop worryin’ I’ll give you as many as you need.”

Can you blame him though? His sweetheart is his doctor, a damn good one too, all patchin’ him up and fretting over him? He’s surprised you can’t hear his heart racing with what you do to him.

[tonysbed]

Secrets I keep | Part 13

Lando Norris x sister!reader

Max Fewtrell x norris!reader

Daniel Ricardo x Norris!reader

summary: You and Max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

not proofread

warnings: mention of loosing virginity, no they’re not gonna fuck on the boat, ITS LANDOS. Smut will be marked. Reader is definitely a woman 😔☝️ For the first time, I wrote protected sex 😧

warnings in the smut part: choking, rough sex, virginity loss, use of good girl, fingering, it could be cringe for some idk

series masterlist | previous | next

-

“Max..” Your voice was quiet and your eyes met his “We don’t have to, we’ll go up there and take a nap or anything” You nod, he smiles gently and presses a kiss to your nose “Tell me when I’m crossing lines okay? I’m not gonna loose you because i’m selfish or anything” His tone was quiet and gentle, matching yours.

“I will. I just..” You look down. Max senses that you’re struggling, grabs the forgotten ice cream, puts it back in the freezer and takes you back upstairs.

He pulls you on your previous spot, making you lay your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry” “For what?” “We didn’t..” And we don’t have to. I literally could not care less. If you don’t want it, I don’t want it either.”

You smile at him as his thumb caressed your cheek. You sigh and press your lips together, making Max tilt his head at you “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s fine” He shakes his head “No. Talk to me” You shake your head “It’s okay” “No it’s not. I can only help you when you tell me what’s wrong” “Nothings really wrong..” “But?”

You sigh and fidget with a bracelet Lando had gifted you years ago “It hasn’t changed..” Max looked confused “Changed? What?” “Me, uhm..” “Well, It doesn’t really matter if you do or not. I’m still right here” You chuckle and blush at his words.

“It’s no that” His hand rests over yours “Then what?” “I asked something of you, something you didn’t want.. well..” Max face twists from confusion to realisation “You’re..you never..?” You shake your head “I didn’t know we’d end up here but I never really found anyone I trusted enough”

He stares at you “And where is the problem?” “Maybe you didn’t want-“ “You listen to me now.” He sits up “I wanted you. I want you and I will want you until I take my last breath. That’s how much you consume me. I need you in every way that you allow me to have you. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn’t be open about this, but I promise you, It’s okay. And we don’t have to. Okay? That’s not why we’re here”

He holds your face in his hands “Okay?” You nod and gently meet his lips.

“We’ve been through enough to not hide something from the other. And we’ll probably go through hell a few times. Especially when the internet catches on, but that all won’t matter cause we’ve got each other.”

You smile and nod “Okay” Max smiles too “Okay. And now we should slowly go back to land. I’m starving” You chuckle “Ay ay, captain” You smirk “Dork” He ruffles through you hair “Hey!”

He quickly kissed the top of your head and heads to turn the boat around. You watch him leading you both back to the land. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought.

-

yn added to their story

caption: I wish I knew what he tried there, but I have no clue @/ maxfewtrell

reply’s:

lando did he get stuck?

yn no he actually didn’t

lando ohhh, miracle

yn almost tho

alexandrasaintmleux when is your busy schedule free for me 😔

yn always, you just gotta say when you’re free 😔 I think we also need to talk about something that happened yesterday 👀

alexandrasaintmleux ohh 👀

user you and max are hanging out a lot

user you’re with max again??

-

yn and alexandrasaintmleux added to their story

(yn cap: 🦋🤍 | alex cap: 💕🌸)

“But you guys didn’t sleep with each other?” “No I couldn’t.. I mean we talked about it afterwards. And he told me that it’s okay but it doesn’t feel okay”

She smiles at you “You’re finally where you wanted to be all along. It is okay. No matter what the media, what lando, and definitely daniel says. They don’t matter. Did he give you any reason not to trust him?”

“No?” “Then talk to him again. And if you aren’t ready, then that’s okay too.” “Everyone-“ “Shut up.” You blink at her “Stop comparing yourself, please. If I had the chance again, I would’ve rather thought about who I had my first time with. But I wanted to fit in, to loose my virginity. That’s stupid tho. Do it with someone you love, and not do it when everyone tells you to lose it.”

You nod “Alright, alright. Before you start writing poems here.” You chuckle and Alex laughs “I’m sure i’ll write some about the insufferable love you two have for each other” “Me and Max? Talk about yourself with the wannabe fashionista”

“That’s mean” She says but laughs “His pants are the worst! How would you let him go out like that?” You cringe “He likes it I guess. I’ll help him here and there but..he’s expressing himself..?”

“Don’t make me feel bad “ You chuckle but pick up your phone that lit up.

“Who is it?” “Max” She smirks at you “Shut up” “I didn’t say anything” You roll your eyes “What does he want?” “Asking if I was up for dinner tonight. But keegan and morgan would be joining if I was okay with it”

“But you wanted to talk to him” “I’m not gonna talk to him about him talking my virginity in public, Alex!” You whisper yell. She shrugs and you roll your eyes again.

“Maybe you won’t even have to talk” She smirks again “Alex” You whine “Do you trust him?” “Yes” “Do you want it to be him?” “Yes” She smiles as she sips her coffee.

“We’ll see what happens” “Just don’t panic. You’ll be okay.” you nod “Thank you alex” “You know I won’t judge” She winks.

-

maxfewtrell

liked by landonorris, charlesleclerc, angryginge13 and 625.836 others

maxfewtrell recently 🌺👀

user WHO IS THAT

lando I still beat you.

maxfewtrell 🙄🙄

angryginge13 not surprised. He was ogling his girlfriend the entire time

maxfewtrell I was not

lando you were.

user let us innnn

user he looks so happy omg

user this is so cute

user handplacement 🥹

-

You kicked off your heels in the hallway and made your way to the living room. You flopped down onto the couch and you hear a chuckle from behind you “Told you to wear other shoes.” “But others wouldn’t have fit to my outfit” You pout.

“Then you should’ve changed” “So you don’t like my outfit?” “Oh trust me, I love it” You blush a bit as he sits next to you, hand on your knee.

“How was the meet up with Alexandra? More gossip?” “Maybe” Max smiled and closed his eyes. His head rested on the back of the couch as you watched him.

“Everything okay?” He mumbled a few moments later and opened one eye to look at you “yeah, i’m okay” You smile warmly. He smiles, closes his eye and gently strokes your leg.

Either he hasn’t noticed, or he’s doing it on purpose but with each stoke, his hand itched higher and higher. When he got to your thigh, your breath hitched.

You saw max’s lips twitch upwards slightly. His thumb makes a soothing motion over your inner thigh, which isn’t soothing at all (Ykyk that feeling).

“Fewtrell.” He hums “What are you doing?” “I’m not doing anything” He turns his head and looks at you with an innocent smile “I know exactly what you’re doing.” “Then why are you asking?”

* Smut until the next mark *

“Don’t play with me, Fewtrell” “No? But I thought that’s exactly what you wanted” You glare at him “Maybe I don’t want it anymore” He chuckled “No? Then why is my hand trapped between your thighs?” He smirks. Fuck, you hadn’t even noticed that your thighs were pressed together.

You look up at him with a faint blush on your cheeks. His free hand cups your cheek “Tell me to stop and I will” You shake your head “Don’t” “No? You sure” You nod and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yes”

That’s all it took for max to let his restraint go. His lips crash into yours “Tell me if I make you uncomfortable or-“ “Just shut up” You breath out. He chuckled, pulled his hand from between your thighs and climbed over you.

His hands were next to your head, yours finding their place on his sides “Max” You say quietly as his lips gently glide over your jaw “Hm?” You raise your hands to his cheeks and pull him in for another kiss.

One hand slowly wanders down to the first button on his shirt, which he catches in his hand. You look at him puzzled “I’m not fucking you on your couch” “Why not?” “Not happening”

He gets up and throws you over his shoulder as if you weighted nothing “Max! What the fuck!” “You’ll live.” You chuckle as he makes his way to your bedroom.

He gently sets you down on the bed and doesn’t restrain your hands from opening his shirt this time. He watched every move of your hands and looks right into your eyes as you push the dress shirt off him.

He lets it fall to the floor as he leans over you again, his lips almost touching yours “Still okay?” “yes” You lean up the last bit to kiss him, making him smile into the kiss.

One of his hands trace your back “Wanna keep it on or can I..” Max eyes you for a moment, keeping alert for any possible discomfort. You breath for a moment “It’s okay” You say quietly.

He smiles and gently opens your dress. It falls of your shoulders as he pulls you up by your hands and strips you off the dress completely.

His eyes roam your body, but instead of being embarrassed, it’s sends a warm sensation through your body.

“Got your wish after all, huh?” He chuckled “Shut up and hurry up” “Patience baby. Everything at its time” You roll your eyes but yelp as Max pushes you back on the bed.

“Up” He says and you move more upwards on the bed as he towers over you. His lips find your jaw once again while one of his hands roams your form.

He trails down your body, keeping eye contact. “Max, please. Don’t tease” “I’m not teasing, i’m enjoying” His hands slide up your sides and stop at your bra “Can I take it off?” You nod and Max opens your bra and throws it off the bed.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He murmured against your skin. His hands gently knead your tits and smirks as you let out a gasp.

He comes up to your ear, gently biting under it, earning a muffled moan “Has anyone ever touched you, baby?” You shake your head, breathless “No? Oh fuck” He chuckled and let his head fall forward for a moment.

Max composed himself again as his hands travel down to the last piece of clothing that’s covering you. He looks at you and you nod. He raised an eyebrow “Yes, max for fucks sake. Stop asking and do something, please”

He smirked and pulled down your underwear, leaving you bare in front of him. You tug at his pants “No, not yet” He gently guides your hand above your head “This is about you, not me” You whine “You can have me later, let me make my stupid decision up, hmm?”

He gently glides two fingers through your folds. You bite your lip to keep your moans quiet, but Max wasn’t having any of it.

“Let me hear you, otherwise I’ll stop” He pulls his hand away and you buckle your hips upwards, which was quickly shut down by max shoving and holding your hips down.

His fingers find your clit and circle it slowly. One of your hands grabs max’s arm. He smiles and speeds up slowly. Your breathing was already unsteady but it wasn’t enough “Max, please” “Use your words. What do you want?”

You blush and clench your jaw “I’m not a mind reader, you gotta tell me” “Your fingers” “oh yeah?” You nod eagerly “Well, who am I to deny you that” He slowly inserts one of his fingers and watches your face for any discomfort.

When he doesn’t find any, he curves his finger upwards. You moan and thighten your grip on his arm “More, please Max” He inserts another finger into you and picks up the pace.

He keeps his thumb on your clit, kissing your thighs in the process. You moan out his name, nothing else than him filling your mind.

“What a good girl” Max raised an eyebrow as you clenched around his fingers “Oh? You like when I call you that?” You blush and hide your face in your hands.

“Don’t hide yourself, come on Baby” He peels your hands away “Eyes on me. You wanna cum on my fingers?” You nod “Yeah? You think you can handle my cock too?” You nod eagerly “Yes, I can”

Max smirks, picking up the speed again and you whine “Aw, are you sensitive?” You push your head backwards into the pillow.

The squelch of the movement inside of you is the only noise filling the room for a moment, making you fist the blanket and max’s arm.

“So good- Max! ‘m close” “Yeah? I’ve got you, cum all over my fingers. Need it” He says and bites the inside your thigh.

The pain pushes you over the edge, your nails digging into Max’s arm.

He slowed down his pace, letting you ride out your high. He pulls out and wipes his fingers on his pants, his free hand gently stroking your abdomen.

You look at him, catching your breath, hair sticking to your forehead. Max chuckled “If you look this fucked out on my fingers, I wonder what my cock does to to you”

You bite your lip and reach out to him, fingers hooking into his belt. Max raised his eyebrows at you but smirks “Go ahead” He nods and you unbuckle his belt. He moves backwards on the bed to stand back up and take his pants off.

“You’re still clothed” You say, sitting on your knees now, tilting your head and pointing at his boxers. Max chuckled “Impatient, are we?” He smirks but you cross your arms “Alright, alright” He chuckled, taking off his underwear too and crawling back above you, pushing you back on your back.

You hold the eye contact but flicker to his lips. His hands reached for the nightstand and takes something off it. “You wanna do it?” You look at the condom. Where the hell did that thing come from and when did he even place it there?

But your thoughts were interrupted when max kissed your jaw “Hm?” “I wanna do it” You whisper “Alright then” He holds the pack up to your mouth and you gently grab it with your teeth, to not damage anything.

You both sit back up, and you rip open the package. You place it on his cock and out of the corner of your eye you can see his hands clenching, holding back from touching you. You smirks and roll the condom down.

Max squeezed his eyes shut and mumbled a quiet ‘fuck’ You keep moving your hand up and down his cock “Sweetheart, no- oh fuck” You thighten your grip slightly, making Max gasp.

“That’s not what- oh” His breath quickens “I’m just making sure it’s on properly” You smile innocently, and before you can say anything else, his hand grips your throat “You’re a minx. I’d be careful if I was you” “Oh yeah? What’re you gonna do?”

He smirks slowly and clenched his jaw “Nothing today. This is about you, but don’t think I’ll forget you being a little brat.”

You raise your eyebrows “Me? I would never” “You’ve never and you still..” Max cuts himself off “I forgot, you read” You smile “Not so innocent, are you baby?” He smiles and pulls you in by your throat.

His lips press against yours and he pulls away again, making you try and chase him, which doesn’t work with his hand around your throat.

He gently pushes you back down and presses gentle kisses around your neck, keeping your hips still with his hands.

“Max, please” He raised an eyebrow “Stop teasing. You don’t need to be a mind reader to know what I want. Please, I thought you wanted to make it up to me? “ You whine, making him press his lips together, nodding “I know, I know sweetheart. You’ll get what you want”

He lines himself up with you but looks up first “Tell me to go slower or stop, okay? You got the control on the pace” You nod, hand wrapping around his bicep.

He slowly pushes in, making you gasp. Your nails dig into his arm, making him hiss. Your scrunch your eyebrows together “Wait-fuck. A moment, please” Max stops immediately and looks up “You okay?” You nod “Just need a moment”

He nods and waits for your cue to move again. Your mouth opens in a soundless moan, which makes Max wrap his hand around your throat once again “Come on, don’t go shy on me now, Pretty girl. Let me hear you” You try to stop the restrain on your moans and Max stills inside you, once he’s in by the hilt.

“You tell me when to move, okay?” You nod, pulling him down for a kiss, your fingers tangling into his hair.

“Okay, you can move” He slowly pulls out and trusts back in. Your eyes widen as he continues the movement “Holy- Max” He chuckles and leans his head next to your ear, making you listen to his breathing.

“How are you feeling?” He says, quickly pecking your cheek “Good” “Yeah? Feels good?” You nod, eyes occasionally rolling into the back of your head.

“Told you we should’ve done this earlier- fuck” You grad the arm that is wrapped around your throat “Yeah? Bet you would’ve loved to be fucked everywhere, hm? Having to keep quiet if I actually fucked you in my drivers room, your own room or mine? Or on the italy vacation?”

“I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about” You get out between moans “No? Running around in those dresses, my god. And bending over every time I was around you? Total accident i’m sure” He growls, thightening his hold on your throat.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head once again at his action “you’re fucking filthy, aren’t you? If you like me chocking you, what else is it I will find when I fuck you, hm?” He smirks as you blush “Always the ones you thought were innocent” He chuckled as you silenced him with a kiss.

“Please, faster” Max gladly listens, picking up his pace and reaching down to play with your clit “Max- Oh god”

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this to you. I don’t know how I kept away from you, but I won’t ever be able to ever again” Max’s breath gets heavier and his head hangs down.

“Harder” “Baby im already-“ “You’re not gonna break me” He lets out a breathless laugh “Jesus, you’re gonna be the death of me” He obliged either way and soon you could feel the pleasure creeping up on you.

Max felt your repeatedly clenching around him as his thrusts don’t falter “Are you close? Can feel you squeezing me so- oh my- fucking tight” You nod “Yeah? Wanna come on my cock? Be a good girl?” “Yeah, wanna be good- fuck”

He smirks at the effect he has on you, but his expression quickly turns into concern as tears roll down your cheeks and he starts to slow down “Hey-hey are you okay?” “Don’t stop, please max. Fuck, keep going”

It was then he realised you were crying because it just felt good “Not hurting, please I’m so close” He nods and picks up his pace again.

This time he picks up your hips a bit which earns him a loud moan “Oh- right there, max” He chuckled but continued pounding into you, as his own orgasm crept up on him.

“Yeah? Finally found it” He says more to himself than you but tries to continually hitting the spot, over and over again.

“Gonna cum, max. Don’t stop, don’t-“ “I won’t, let go baby. I got you, be a good girl” You pulled him down into a heated kiss as white hot please consumed every fibre of your body, your other hand gripping his shoulder, marking another part of him.

Your orgasm triggered his own and his hands grip your hips, probably bruising them slightly in the process.

His forehead rests on yours as you slowly come down from your high. Max slowly pulls out, which earns him a quiet hiss of you.

“Sorry” he mumbled and pulled the condom off to throw it in the trash.

* smut end * holy cow that was long 😭 Anyway.

“You want a bath or just lay here” Max whispered as he cuddled up to you “Just a moment. But a bath sounds nice too” “I’ll quickly turn on the water and be right back” You nod with closed eyes.

A few moments later you hear the water running and Max is back in the room, now in sweatpants “Why are you wearing those?” “Do you know how weird it feels to walk around naked?” He laughs and crawls back to you, pulling you onto his chest “Don’t fall asleep on me now. We still gotta clean you up”

“How can I not when you brush through my hair like that and cuddle me” You mumble “To bad, sweetheart. Still gonna have the bath” You don’t move and max laughs “Do I have to carry you?” “Mhm”

He chuckled again but picks you up “Let’s go then” You keep your eyes closed, leaning on his shoulder. “Can you open the door? My hands are quite occupied”

You smile and open the door. The warmth of the room immediately makes you feel even sleepier. He sets you down for a moment and closes the door.

“Come on, hop hop in there” “Don’t rush me” You say and hold a hand out “Yeah yeah” He picks you back up and you squeal “Max!” He slowly sets you down in the bathtub. He sits beside the tub and holds your hand, head resting on the side and looking at you.

“You’re staring.” “I know. But do you really care?” “No” You smile and look at him. His smile widens “Good.” He sits up properly to kiss you. Your hand draws shapes on his shoulder “Oh” “Hm?”

You chuckle “Did I do that?” You point to the countless scratches on his arms and shoulders “I think you did, yeah” He laughs “Even down here!” He looks at the lower part of his arm “How am I supposed to hide that?”

“Hoodie?” He looks at you deadpan “Hoodie? It’s like.. super hot outside?” “Then you’ll be smoking hot” He chuckled “You’re crazy” “Yet you’re still sitting here” Max nods “Yeah, somehow” You roll your eyes and lay back down.

comfortable silence fills the room. Max’s hand gently caressed your face as you calm down. You were right were you wanted to be, without any disturbance..right?

-

Holy shit. It’s been a while since I wrote smut, so go easy on me. Part 14 is still coming out tomorrow, no worries about that 🤭

[maitanii]

unfortunate encounter. inui seishu. 2k

It wasn’t his day. It wasn’t his week either—or his month (or even his year). Not that Inui was particularly prone to complaining, but he was pretty sure someone had cursed him.

First of all, there was missing money—a lot of money—from the store’s register. And, of course, the discrepancy had happened during his shift. Which meant that the irresponsible idiot who worked the early morning shift had done whatever they wanted with the payments and, worse still, Inui hadn’t even noticed.

Reason number two: the stupid shirt. Chifuyu had convinced everyone to wear matching shirts for Takemichi’s bachelor party. Seishu’s first reaction was to throw the shirt on the ground and stomp on it, but Draken gave him two choices: either wear the shirt, or Draken would put it on him himself.

And now here he was, with relentless raindrops falling on his head, the pink shirt with Takemichi’s face on it completely soaked, his bike parked on the side of the road, a scratched car in front of him, and a girl crying over the steering wheel.

Shit, shit, shit.

He’d love to pin the blame on the girl, but she had done everything right. It was him who, in his hurry, had forgotten to check his brakes and ended up crashing into her car. Once he recovered from the initial impact, he’d tried to apologize, but the girl had already started crying and was unable to form a coherent sentence. Which meant he’d have to be the one to explain everything to the officers.

Taking the cigarette from his lips, he pressed his phone harder against his ear, hoping the police would pick up faster. He was supposed to be at the restaurant in an hour, and he still had ten minutes of highway left to go. Not a chance he’d make it. Stupid day and his stupid luck. He was never going to ignore Naoto’s advice about warding off bad luck ever again.

“Hello. Yes.” He kept providing the officer on the line with the location details. “Twenty minutes? Shit. Yes, officer. Understood.”

Shoving the phone into his pocket, he barely resisted the urge to smash it against the asphalt. His white Converse crushed the remains of his cigarette under the sole. Inui ran his hands through his hair, slicking it back. He hated the rainy season.

As if the sky could sense his rising heart rate, the rain decided to come down harder. Two minutes into wondering whether his life was even worth it, he figured that if he killed himself on the spot, Draken would bring him back to life just to beat him up. So, reluctantly, he made his way over to the car, where the girl he’d crashed into still had her head resting against the steering wheel.

He knocked on the car door twice. On the second knock, the girl lifted her head sluggishly and turned to look at him. If it hadn’t been for the terrible situation they were in, he might’ve laughed at the red mark on her forehead from leaning on the same spot for too long. But he wasn’t in the mood for jokes, nor did he want to deal with her tears. When she rolled the window down slightly, Inui took it as his cue to speak.

“I know you probably don’t feel like talking. And as hard as it is to believe, neither do I. But I can’t fill out the damn accident report if I die of hypothermia out here. Would you be so kind as to let me into the car?”

The girl stared at him for a few seconds, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Hugging her bag tightly to her chest, she unlocked the door and gestured toward the passenger seat. Inui didn’t hesitate to climb in.

The inside of the Volkswagen smelled faintly of a strawberry air freshener on its last legs.

After two minutes of silence, the girl straightened up and opened her mouth to speak at the same time Inui did.

“Look, I’m sorry. I was going too fast, and since this road is usually so empty, I got overconfident. I’m really sorry.”

“You’re bleeding.”

They both turned their heads to look at each other. The girl swallowed hard when she caught her reflection in Inui’s green eyes.

“Oh, blood.” Seishu reached for his left leg and confirmed that there was, indeed, a nasty-looking wound. “Great. Just great.”

“Let me see it.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” When the girl nodded, Inui felt somewhat relieved. Not to be heartless, but as long as she wasn’t physically hurt, it was one less thing to deal with. Turning his head, he glanced at his bike through the window. He’d left his helmet on the ground, and now it was acting as a makeshift bucket, collecting rainwater.

“Let me see your leg,” the girl repeated, her voice snapping him out of his thoughts. “Please.”

“Seriously, it’s nothing. I’ve had friends hit me harder than this. Don’t sweat it.”

“I’m a nurse.”

“Thanks for sharing. I’m a mechanic.”

For the first time since the accident happened, the tension in the air eased, and a soft laugh escaped the girl’s lips. Inui breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well, mechanic, at the very least, can you do me a favor and roll up your pant leg?”

Inui raised an eyebrow keeping the poker face. “Roll up my pant leg? Wow, I admit I have nice legs, but we’re moving pretty fast there. Should I light a candle first?”

Her eyes widened in horror. “What? No! That’s not what I meant!” She frantically waved her hands, her cheeks turning a deep crimson. “There’s mud on the path where we crashed! I don’t want dirt getting into the wound—just roll it up a bit so I can clean it!”

“Ah, got it.” Inui nodded with an exaggeratedly serious expression, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed him. “No candles, then. Noted.”

Seishu took his time rolling up the fabric, his movements slow and deliberate. He’d understood her perfectly from the start, but he couldn’t resist teasing her a little. Force of habit.

The young woman glanced at the wound out of the corner of her eye. It didn’t look too bad, but it would still need to be cleaned and disinfected. She sighed, feeling her eyes begin to well up with tears again. What a perfect day for her period to show up. Just as she was about to bury her arms on the steering wheel, she heard the guy next to her clear his throat.

“If you’re going to cry again, at least give me a heads-up. I think it’d be more awkward if I watch.”

“You’re such a charmer, you know that?”

“I get that a lot,” he replied.

She scoffed but couldn’t stop a faint smile from slipping through. Shaking her head, she looked down at her lap, her hands clasped tightly together. “This is a disaster. I’m supposed to be at work in 10 minutes.”

“One of my best friends is getting married in two days. Today’s his bachelor party,” he said, leaning back against the headrest. “Trust me, I’m very aware of the disaster. But hey, at least I’m not dead, and neither are you. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

The young woman shot him a look, squinting slightly. “Is that your way of comforting people?”

“I thought I mentioned I’m a mechanic, not a therapist,” Inui retorted with a sarcastic smile. “Besides, the last time I tried to comfort someone, I ended up getting punched in the face. Not really my thing.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle, and for a moment, the tension between them seemed to ease. “Well, mechanic, maybe you should stick to what you know.”

“Thanks for the advice, nurse,” he quipped, raising an eyebrow. Then, leaning forward, he gestured exaggeratedly toward his leg. “So, are you going to take care of this wound, or would you rather keep crying while we debate who’s having the worse day?”

The woman sighed and turned to face him, finally making up her mind. “Fine, but first, I’ll need something to clean it with. And don’t even think about handing me a used tissue or something worse, because I swear I’ll leave you bleeding.”

“Don’t worry,” he replied with a half-smile. “I’ve got an emergency kit on the bike. At least I did something right today.”

“A miracle” She muttered under her breath, watching as Inui reached out for the door handle. “What are you doing?”

“Getting the first-aid kit,” he said, already pushing the door open.

“Wait! You’re just going to—” Her protest was drowned out by the sound of the rain hitting harder as he stepped out into the downpour.

He didn’t bother hurrying; he was already soaked from earlier. His shirt clung awkwardly to his frame as he crouched by the bike, opening one of the side compartments. After rummaging for a moment, he pulled out a small, well-used first-aid kit. He didn’t even bother trying to keep it dry as he trudged back toward the car.

Sliding back into the passenger seat with a squelch, he tossed the kit onto the center console and brushed his damp hair out of his face.

“Here,” he said simply, flicking open the latch and pulling out some antiseptic wipes and gauze.

She frowned at the mess he was making. “Great, now my car smells like wet dog. You couldn’t just let me grab it?”

“It’s my bike,” he replied, handing her the supplies. “I’d rather not add ‘letting a stranger mess with my stuff’ to today’s list of mistakes.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, snatching the wipes from his hand. “Fine. But stay still unless you want this to hurt more than it already does.”

He leaned back against the seat, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “I’ll try my best, Nurse.”

She worked quickly, cleaning the wound with firm but precise movements. He hissed when the antiseptic hit, but to his credit, he didn’t pull away. When she finished wrapping the gauze, she leaned back with a satisfied nod.

“There,” she said, tossing the used wipes into the small trash bag hanging from the dashboard. “Try not to mess it up before the police get here.”

“No promises,” he said with a lopsided grin, flexing his leg experimentally.

“Good,” she muttered, leaning back in her seat. “Now what?”

“Now,” he said, glancing out at the rain as it hammered down on the windshield, “we wait.”

The tension in the car had eased slightly, leaving only the rhythmic sound of the rain filling the silence.

“Do you mind if I turn the radio on?” she asked.

“Not at all” Inui started to get comfortable in the seat and let his forehead fall against the glass of the window.

The radio crackled to life, filling the car with a soft, cheesy love song. Inui snorted. “Great. Mood music.”

The girl rolled her eyes, adjusting the volume. “Would you rather sit in awkward silence?”

He shrugged. “I was kind of enjoying the dramatic tension, to be honest.”

She let out a small laugh, finally seeming to relax. “You’re impossible.”

Another stretch of silence passed, the rain drumming steadily against the windshield. Then, she shifted slightly in her seat.

“I never got your name,” she said.

He considered ignoring the question—keeping things strictly in the “unfortunate strangers” category. But at this point, what was the harm? He’d already bled in her car. That felt like a first-name basis situation.

“Inui Seishu” he finally said.

She gave a slow nod, lips twitching. “Well, Inui Seishu, I hope you know you owe me a car wash after all this.”

He turned his head to look at her, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And I hope you know you owe me therapy bills for emotional distress.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved a hand dismissively. “Add it to your bad luck tab.”

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “That tab’s already maxed out, sweetheart.”

She grinned, leaning back into her seat as the song on the radio switched to something equally sappy.

[angelatmidnight1]

God, your fics are a delight to read! So cute and orgsnic and I feel for Tav everytime, I can feel the adrenaline drum up in my chest. And I saw your requests are open!

Not to be a basic bitch, but I would love, love, love something with lee! Astarion. You know that sour, grouchy way he gets sometimes? His haughty complaining at the tiefling party, "Go away I'm brooding", teasing him to thank you and him going, "Hmm? 🤨 Hmmph. 😒 Thank you for helping me, it was very kind 😡😡😡". He really starts earning his 10 charisma stat when he's flustered or embarassed.

Could you whip up something along those lines? There's some mishap or situation that has Astarion snappy and scowling and probably playing at being mad a bit more than he actually is. Tav makes it their mission to coax him into a better mood. (Or forgiveness depending on the circumstance). It just so happens that, as they're laying on the charm, they happen to brush against a ticklish spot...

A Little TLC

Who knew that stealing the Blood of Lathander would lead to an explosion strong enough to level the Rosymorn Monastery? Tav’s curiosity got the better of them, and all of their companions made it out safely, save for Astarion. He is understandably cross with them, and Tav makes it their mission to earn his forgiveness. Sweet words and a little massage can go a long way...especially if the recipient is ticklish. 

Pairing- Astarion x Tav

WC: 2.9k

Warnings- Spoilers for Act(s) 1-2 for Gith creche.

“What in the sweet hells were you thinking, activating that lance? I was right there!” 

Tav recoiled as Astarion, brought back from the dead, shouted at them. There were hidden secrets in the Rosymorn Monastery that promised a powerful, holy relic up for grabs. Tav led their party through secret passageways and found the Blood of Lathander in all of its glowing, shiny glory. All they had to do was reach out and take it.

The next thing they knew, the entire monastery was primed to explode. Gale had teleported himself and Shadowheart to safety. Karlach managed to leap out of the blast radius through a window. That left Tav and Astarion. Tav was sprinting as fast as their legs would take them.They ran through collapsing corridors, turning wildly with no thought but escape. Astarion had been right on their heels—until he wasn’t.

They hadn’t even realized they’d lost him until they burst out into the open air, lungs burning. Only then, as the radiant explosion consumed the monastery behind them, did Tav see no sign of him.

Oh no. No, no, no!

“ASTARION!”

Their shout echoed through the now ruined monastery, mingled with coughing. He didn’t answer. That sinking, guilty feeling weighed them down all the way back to camp, where Withers waited to bring back fallen companions. 

When Astarion materialized in front of them, his clothes and hair were covered in soot. And he was not happy. 

“I’m sorry, Astarion! I didn’t know the temple would explode—I wasn’t thinking!” Tav blurted, hands raised in a placating gesture. “I just... I thought about the relic and what it could do for us. I didn’t mean to put you in danger!”

“Well, I suppose that makes up for this, doesn’t it?” He hissed, “A quick apology with a dash of whining. Never mind the fact that I was obliterated into ash all because you couldn’t keep your grubby little hands to yourself.” 

“But-”

“I mean honestly, what did you think would happen?” Astarion shook the dust from his curls in frustration. “Did you really think you’d just waltz in and take it? That all of the bloody traps were just for show? Gods! It’s one thing to be impulsive, but to be a damned fool-”

“I’m sorry!” Tav frowned. “I swear, I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Next time?” Astarion echoed indignantly. “No, no, no! If there is a ‘next time’, I’ll be pointing the all powerful weapon, thank you.” 

Tav winced at Astarion’s words. They hadn’t meant for things to go so wrong, but the sharp sting of Astarion’s anger made it harder to explain.

“Astarion, I… I really didn’t think it would get that bad,” Tav muttered, lowering their hands to their sides. “You’re right, I should have been more careful. I wasn’t thinking about the consequences, but I didn’t want you to get hurt.” They paused, taking a breath. “I never want to put you in danger. You know that, right?”

Astarion fixed his gaze on them, still looking angry, but the look had softened slightly. “I know,” he muttered. “And yet you did put me in danger and I got hurt. Blown to pieces if I’m being more accurate. If we’re going to reach Baldur’s Gate, I want to be in one piece, if it’s all the same to you.”

“You will! I promise. Next time I find an ancient relic, I’ll make sure you’re at a safe distance, okay?” Tav took a hopeful step towards him. Astarion crossed his arms, but didn’t move away. 

“I suppose that’s better than nothing.”

There was a sudden bout of silence before Tav spoke up. “Can I, um,” they hesitated. “Can I help clean you up?”

“No, you’ve done quite enough already,” Astarion huffed and finally moved out of their reach. “If you want to be useful, draw me a bath and get me some clean clothes. And I don’t want cheap rags.”

Tav slowly nodded. “Alright. Give me a moment, and I’ll have a nice, warm bath for you.” 

It took a little bit of Gale’s magic and a lot of Karlach’s heat to get the water warm. You’d already done the hard work of filling up the wooden bath in your shared tent. Now, you kept on checking the temperature, waiting for it to be soothingly warm. Once satisfied, Tav withdrew their hand, calling, “It’s ready, Astarion.”

“Finally.” Astarion entered the tent shirtless and huffed. “Took you long enough. It is freezing out here.” 

Tav stepped aside, letting him approach the steaming bath. “I wanted to make sure it was perfect,” they admitted, watching as Astarion eyed the water with something almost like approval—almost.

“Are you certain this won’t explode? No hidden traps anywhere?” 

Tav deflated. “I’m positive, love,” they sighed. “This is completely safe.”

“Hmph. As you say..” Astarion put one hand on the edge of the bathtub, waving Tav away with the other. “Now, off with you. I've got layers of dirt to scrub off..”

It stung to be abruptly dismissed, especially since they usually helped with washing his back, but Astarion was still understandably annoyed. So, with a curt nod, they left him to take his bath. 

While they waited for him to finish, their heart raced. It wasn’t the first time Astarion was cross with them. But this was something that was their fault. They paced outside of the tent, intermittently wringing their hands, until a metaphorical light bulb went off in their head. 

If he was willing, a massage was the perfect solution.  What better way to make him feel better than to rub that tension away?

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

By the time Tav returned back to camp, Astarion was finished with his bath. He reclined outside of the shared tent with plush cushions underneath him. Tav eyed him from a distance. They were trying to read his face, but with his nose buried in his book, it was difficult. They approached him slowly, trying not to make a sound, but the crunching of their boots gave them away. 

Astarion’s red eyes flicked up to them. He sighed heavily. “Gods above, what do you want now?” 

Unlike before, his words didn’t carry a sharp bite. It was a grumble if anything. Tav hoped this meant that the bath had softened his anger. 

“I was hoping I could make all of this up to you,” They murmured softly. They stood a couple of paces away with something held behind their back. “If you’ll let me.”

He glanced between their face and whatever it was that they were hiding behind their back. He looked wairly intrigued. “Hm, now there’s an idea. Though you should know by now that I am not somebody who’s won over easily. So, what is it you have there? A gift? A bribe?”

“Well, maybe a little of both,” Tav admitted and brought their hands from behind their back, revealing the lavender massage oil. “I can’t stand you being mad at me. So, I was hoping I could give you a massage? You know, something to work out all of that tension?”

Astarion blinked. “Oh. That is a little…novel, I suppose. If anything, I half expected you’d bring me some wine. A couple of swigs down and I’d probably forget about all of this exploding temple business. But no, you’d rather dote on me?”

“Yes.” Tav smiled hopefully. It was one of those damned adorable smiles that he’d come to like so much. “It’s the least I can do. I expect you’re still a bit sore?”

“A bit. No thanks to you, I might add.” He huffed dramatically, looking between them and the massage oil. “But if you’re serious, and you’re not god awful at this, then I suppose I can tolerate a massage.” 

Tav brightened and cheered. Their cheeriness tugged at Astarion’s undead heartstrings, but his face remained neutral. “Thank you, Astarion. You won’t regret this.”

“We shall see, won’t we? Now, make good on your promise..” He turned so that he was laying on his stomach, letting his loose shirt slip down to expose some skin. Tav nodded obligingly. They knelt down to straddle his back, already having taken the cap off the bottle to put a few drops in their hand. They rubbed their hands together to warm it up, then pressed their fingertips where his shoulders met his back. 

They started out gentle as they kneaded into the tight muscles. Astarion initially tensed and rolled his shoulders until they found the right spot at the base of his neck. Then, he let out an almost imperceptible sigh, head tilted to the side. Tav let out a breath they’d been holding and chuckled quietly. 

“Feel good, love?” They slid both hands up his neck, moving their palms in circular motions before sliding back down. Astarion gave a minimal hum. 

“Mm— you’re not—not terrible at this,”  he mumbled. He almost purred when they rubbed down his spine, careful to avoid pressing on his scars. He picked up the quiet hush of their giggle and quickly added, “Don’t let it get to your head, dear.”   

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tav chuckled. They rubbed along his back and shoulders for a few moments more before switching over to his sides. They used their knuckles to knead over his skin, and he shivered. 

Tav momentarily froze. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. Keep going.” Astarion shifted under them, clearing his throat. Tav’s brows furrowed, but they went back to massaging his sides. They felt him shiver again and lightened their touch so that they were barely caressing his skin. They couldn’t see it from where they sat on his back, but he briefly grinned. A successful perception check helped them detect the faintest giggle. Tav smiled and, not wanting to immediately call him out, decided to play along.

“You know,” they started softly. “I really am sorry about what happened earlier. I hope you can forgive me.” Their fingers ghosted over his waist, and he sucked in air through his teeth. Tav craned their head to try and look at him, but he turned his head out of their view. “Astarion?”

“Hmm?” He propped himself up on his elbows, shoulders shaking a bit, as if holding back a laugh. He pursed his lips to conceal a smile. “I heard you, Tav. Now would you shut up and let me relax?”

Tav huffed lightly. Their smile widened.  “Oh, I do apologize. How careless of me. Of course I want you to relax. I shall be as quiet as a mouse, my love.”

Astarion finally gave them a quizzical look. The way they were smiling at them now made him fidget, but he made no move to get up. Slowly, he lowered himself back onto his stomach. “Good. Keep it that way.”

Ah, so that’s how he wanted to play this?

 Tav smirked to themselves and, as promised, didn’t say another word. Instead, they doubled down on their efforts. They wriggled their fingertips ever so slightly up his sides and across his ribs. Again, Astarion fidgeted, but it was becoming more difficult for him to stifle his giggling. 

Whenever he squirmed, Tav’s fingers weren’t far behind, lightly scribbling and kneading over his skin. They didn’t hone in on any one area; instead, they leisurely went from one spot to the other. Tav’s fingers traced a slow path down his sides, brushing across his ribs and making their way back to his waist, where they gently danced over the curve of his hips. This time, Astarion jolted and belted out a loud, startled giggle. He swiveled his head to give a lighthearted glare, and Tav was already grinning at him. 

“You wretch-”

Tav laughed in earnest. They continued their gentle pinching and tickling over his hips, and Astarion squealed. His hands shot out behind him to grip their wrists, but he didn’t make any move to truly stop them. “Come on, Astarion. I just want to see you smile. You wear it so much better than a scowl.”

“You are delusional if you think you can-” His sharp words were dulled as he tittered and grit his teeth as Tav traced along his waist. “C-Can tickle mehehe into forgiving your idihihidocy!”

“Maybe. But, it’s worth a shot, no?” Tav giggled and pried their hands out of his grip. Then, their hands scampered back up his sides, finding purchase on his ribs. Astarion sputtered and writhed, giggling frantically. He tried to sit up and turn around, but Tav wouldn’t let him. They flattened themselves on top of his back and alternated between gently pinching at the bones and scritching over them. They scooched up a bit just so they could nuzzle their head into the crook of his neck. He tried to shut them out by raising his shoulders, shrieking. 

“Please forgive me, Star..” They murmured into his ear, pressing a kiss to the shell. He shook his head as those ticklish kisses continued, his high pitched giggles rounding out to laughter. “I didn’t mean to blow up the temple with you in it. It’ll never happen again.”

“GAhahaha! Oho, I’m going tohoho end you, Tahahav!” He threatened and leaned his head far enough away to avoid the ticklish kisses. So, they moved to his other ear. Meanwhile, they were still tickling along the length of his ribs. 

“But then how would I be able to say I’m sorry?” Tav laughed. After a couple more kisses on his ear, they relented, not wanting to get headbutted accidentally on purpose. They suddenly raised their hands higher and plunged them underneath his arms. Astarion arched his back and cackled. 

“AHA! Nohohoht thehehehre—!” He shrieked and clamped his arms down, trapping their wriggling fingers against him. With a sudden burst of strength, he rolled both of them over, and Tav yelped. Before he could recover, Tav hooked one leg over his waist, returning to their gentle scritches over his armpits. Astarion threw his head back in laughter, hands gripping their arms, but still not fully pushing them away. 

Tav chuckled fondly. They halted their tickle attack to bring both of his hands up to their lips, kissing the tops softly. “See? You’re beautiful when you laugh…and even more so when you aren’t angry with me.”

“Y-Yehehes, well, I’m afraid you’re not off the hook, darling.” He breathed and chased after the warmth in their touch. “In fact I think I need an even longer massage now because of your antics.”

“Oh? I can manage that,” They grinned. “Do you have any suggestions for where I should t—er, massage next? I’m nothing if not a good listener.”

Astarion leered, squeezing their hands. “Tickle me again, and you just might lose these hands.”

“Huh. Decisions, decisions..” Tav pursed their lips as if they were thinking. “Make my dashingly handsome lover laugh, or help him feel good?”

There was a beat, and Tav slowly pulled their hands out of his grip. They idly wriggled their fingers just a hair above his torso, not quite touching. He narrowed his eyes, still playful, and lowered one protective arm over the same area. 

“Tav, my love, I do hope you make the right decision..” He whispered in a low, suspicious purr. He watched their movements like a hawk and, for a moment, it looked like they were going to resume the massage. 

But then, they tentatively poked him in the tummy, and he flinched. Tav grinned a playful grin. 

“I’m gonna go with option one~” They sang, continuing to poke and prod at his belly at a pace that he couldn’t keep up with. He growled in between his giggling and tried, and failed, to grab their hand. 

“Nahahaha! Youhuhu little- ah! Nohoho! When I geheheheht my HAHAHAHNDS on youhuhu!” Astarion squealed and buckled at each poke, opting to cover his face with his hand. His face was flushed from laughing and his fangs were 100% visible, if he hadn’t been covering his face, that is. Tav laughed along with him and pressed their thumbs into his hips, kneading softly. He jolted and lurched forward, uncovering his face to wrestle with their hands.

 Again, he threw his head back in laughter, but he still wasn’t quite stopping them. He’d grip their wrists or hands and push them, though if he really wanted to, he could’ve stopped them ages ago. Tav’s heart warmed with the notion that he was having fun, and that maybe he wasn’t quite as angry with them compared to when they blew up the temple. Tav alternated between kneading his hips and running their nails along the bones, and their lover was in stitches. To add fuel to the metaphorical fire, they leaned back down to press kisses into his cheeks and ears. Astarion wheezed. 

“TAHAHA! Y-you’re sohoho dehEHEAD—!” Astarion’s shrieked threats dissolved into squealing cackles. He pushed his head into theirs as his legs drummed against the ground. Tav snuck a quick kiss to his nose with a giggle. 

“Promises, promises, my darling. You already said—” 

But before they could finish, Astarion found a last ditch burst of strength, and he lunged. Tav barely had time to react before the world flipped—one moment, they were on top, and the next, they were pinned on their back, staring up at a panting, wild-haired Astarion. He gathered up their wrists and held them above their head with one hand. Tav blinked and looked up at him with a wobbly smile. 

“Oh. Um, heh. H-Hang on, Astarion..”

After Astarion caught his breath, his slow, wicked grin returned. “I warned you, darling.”

Well, he certainly didn’t seem angry anymore. After all, he believed that the best apology was well placed revenge. 

A/N: I really hope this fic is to your liking, anon! I'm nervous to post it if I'm being honest because I was juggling this idea with another one and I finished this fic whilst sick, so I don't know about the quality. Anyways, I hope you like it. Also I love how you depicted Astarion's grouchiness through emojis- that was the favorite part of this ask 😆

[bigfatbreak]

Birds of a Feather previous / next

[kathyrealmstales]

"Do I really have to-" "YES!" "Can't I just say sorry without the Ukulele?" "No, now tell everyone you are sorry."

[ratatatastic]

"that's where you have to also realise that as much as you want to idolise the great goaltenders you have to realise that you are your own goalie and you have to do what's best for you." the introspection borne between goaltenders that is cementing your identity whilst still working in tandem

Primetime Panthers | 12.11.24 (x)

[scientologyblows]

okay but lets be very serious here right now, when they release a statement what exactly is that gonna change? don admitted to him and lex having intercourse (which shows that he coerced her) and matt and ryans texts show that the situation was handled VERY poorly. an apology isnt enough for the trauma they both have caused

[st4rstudent]

I think every social media website should have an effective tagging system, just my thoughts

[lazaruspiss]

yeah its kinda depressing that every fandom seems to have some anti shipper niche but its also so fuckin funny sometimes. like im just remembering that rick and morty exists and holy shit was that a show that contained Sensitive Subjects portrayed only for crass amusement and self gratification. and even that show has anti shippers. (adding a cut for those who dont wanna listen to my sleep deprived rambled retellings of my rick & morty memories)

hey do yall know what the pilot was about. bc the og r&m pilot was a back to the future parody where morty has to suck off rick in order for him to have big brain power. like the og r&m has uncensored underage incest blowjobs. also the actual final show has an episode where a character proposes a "multi generational sandwich" 3way. yeah yeah but portraying incest is problematic. do u hear urself. incest doesnt even make the top 10 as far as ricks crimes against humanity go. how do yall live like that

[todayisafridaynight]

theres no better place for my ichi ringtone to go off than during my exam tbh

[the-acid-pear]

Okay I'm home now and i can fully and freely type. Anyway mild spoilers for into the spiderverse i guess?

❌❌❌

Anyway uh. Yeah it... It was a tiny bit of a disappointment. It didn't do it for me at all. I feel like this movie is more of an art exhibit and i mean that as a fucking insult. Like sure the animation fucks my ears are ringing and my head aches horribly (that's on me for thinking i can be autistic and watch this on theaters) but like, the story man? It just so much (DEROGATORY).

It commits the sin a lot of spiderman movies make and that is that it bit more than it could chew. Not because they're bad at handling a complex story, but because they tried to juggle like 5 at once. And that never fucking works (my ear is still ringing and it hurts I'm in pain rn -_+ just wanted y'all to know)

Like it introduced SO FUCKING MUCH and it all was cool yeah! Just like electro was cool, and Harry, and Gwen, and captain Stacy. You know what in trying to fucking say? There's only so much you can do in 2 hours and you can just throw all you have all at once at the viewer because all you'll do is leave them disappointed wanting for more of that.

I feel like a baby. They show me this cool thing but nuh uh! Enough of that! Here's this new cool thing! But nuh uh! Enough of that- and so on. Like there were so many cool characters and ideas and concepts and shit but it could barely balance it all. YOU KNOW HOW BAD I WANTED TO SEE MORE OF THE SPOT?! HE BARELY WAS HERE!

It's like, you cannot fucking make a whole movie as the introduction to your next movie. That just sucks. You're setting yourself up for failure.

Like I'm just so upset bc it was full of amaizing things but it didn't fucking deliver in any of them!!!! And God don't get me started on the references. I think this was one of the worst ways to fill your movie with references. Like at least let me fucking process what I'm seeing if you are gonna waste so much time here, but also just... Don't make it so fucking blatant.

Like man i... This was a very experimental spiderman movie which i appreciate in a way but... It's not what I was expecting. To me, personally, it was disappointing. And also not designed at ALL to watch on cinemas. I think that last bit is just a fact.

I'm just kinda sad man. Like i loved Miles and Gwen's drama and i loved Miguel but I also wanted to see more of, you know, THE WHOLE FUCKING NEW CAST AND THE NEW FUCKING VILLAIN THEY INTRODUCED BUT SHOWED ONLY FOR LIKE 2-3 SEGMENTS MAX???????

LIKE HANDS ON HEAD EMOJI WHAT WERE THEY DOINGGGGG 😭😭😭😭

[logaritmi]

//

[lovscb97]

— stray kids links [hyung line]

tags: hyung line!stray kids x fem!reader, established relationship, rough sex, unprotected sex (plz wrap it before u tap it), creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, mild dacryphilia, begging, use of collars/leashes, spanking, strength kink, oral sex (f. receiving), squirting, car sex, slight exhibitionism, slight choking, use of nicknames (baby, princess, angel, kitten, etc), degradation (slut, whore, etc), dirty talk, edging, overstimulation, etc

wc: 2.73k

add. notes: hai …. sorry i made this post instead of giving u guys nerd!chan pt. 2 I FUCKIN SWEAR IT’S COMING but it’s just taking the piss out of me n i needed this out for a new post. anyways plz dni if u r a minor like i mean that w my whole chest n also lmk if some of the links stop working or if u can’t see them idk what i can do abt that . but at least i will be aware LMFAOOOOO yea anyways enjoy :3

maknae line ver.

. . .

⥽ … BANG CHAN: 

link one.

chan is packing. he is absolutely packing to the point you felt like he was going to tear your womb apart when you first got intimate with him, his thick cock stretching you out past your limits as fresh sobs fell from your mouth. since then, he's trained you to take him with enough prep, always making sure to milk at least two orgasms from you before he even thinks about letting his dick near your pussy regardless of how hard it might be throbbing. that wait becomes worthwhile though when he finally sinks inside of you, dirty words and throaty groans rambled in your ear as he releases himself deep inside once he's reached his peak. he loves the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in, never leaving you alone until he's dumped his load empty.

"fuck, baby. how are you so tight?" chan hisses incredulously, wet thumb still circling your clit as you shake in his hold. you're extremely sensitive at this point, twitching from the slightest touch after having cum for the third time, but the only thing in your mind right now is your boyfriend breeding you, the request made obvious with how you tighten your legs around his waist to pull him in. "cum in me, daddy. please!" you plead, teary eyes blinking up at chan whose orbs roll to the back of his head at your keen expression. it only takes a few more thrusts before he's shooting ropes of hot cum inside you, gripping himself to ensure he stays in place. you sigh in content at the warm liquid flooding you, and chan just smiles tiredly, leaning in to sweetly kiss you. "i love you, precious girl." he whispers, resting his body on top of you to keep you plugged up for the rest of the night.

link two.

you're chan's favourite destress toy, that much is obvious. every time he comes home from a long day at work, he knows it'll be worthwhile because you'll be there waiting with open arms and your wet hole longing to be filled up. he'll even take you right then and there in the living room sometimes, making sure everyone around you two knows exactly whose name you're screaming. certain days when he's had it particularly bad though, he'll collar you up and attach a leash to it that he can pull back on, bending you over with your ass up in the air as he slams himself into you repeatedly. it gives him immense pride to have that sense of control over you, to be able to manoeuvre you into whatever position he desires. if he's feeling especially mean, he'll edge you until you're crying into the sheets, cooing at how fucked out you look, knowing he's the only one who can make you feel that way.

"please.. i wan' cum, please." you slur out mindlessly, drool dripping down your mouth as chan slowly drags his cock in and out of you, its mushroom tip pressing deliciously against that spot inside. your boyfriend just chuckles from behind you, his hand yanking on the leash that's tied to your collar which makes you lean back in an instant. his hand sneaks down to grip himself as he pulls out for the nth time, and you whine at the loss of fullness in you, bottom lip jutting out as he slaps the head of his cock against your clit. "yeah, princess? you wanna cum? wanna cum all over daddy's dick?" he mocks you, laughing sadistically when you desperately nod your head. he continues to rub up your little nub, and you're soon about to fall over the edge, gratitude on your lips when he suddenly stops. "oh, baby, you're not cumming that easily tonight." chan growls, causing you to shiver under his hold as he pushes you back onto the bed. it looks like you're in for a long night.

⥽ … LEE MINHO: 

link one.

you love pissing minho off. it's one of the little things in life that gives you so much pleasure, aside from when your boyfriend fucks you, of course. minho, on the other hand, doesn't take lightly to your teasing at all. on days where you're acting out by wearing revealing clothes in front of his friends or sitting too close to one of them for his liking, he'll drag you out with some lame excuse and a clenched jaw, mumbling something about how you're both going home now. he doesn't even care that you're probably smug by the end of it, because that feeling of triumph soon dissipates when he has you bent over his lap, veiny hands kneading the plush of your ass before he's landing a harsh smack on it. he'll spank you and make you count your punishment, and if you lose track, he'll just have to start all over again.

"fucking slut." minho tsk's, cold fingers running themselves against the bruised skin of your butt. he takes a moment to admire his work, tracing the red imprints of his hand on your ass and even the outline of your white panties, which are absolutely soaked by now. "min, please! 'm sorry, it won't happen again." you cry out, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes although you can't see it. another series of repeated spanks land on you, and you yelp in response, legs kicking up from the stinging impact. your body burns by now, every touch minho provides it leaving behind a searing sensation, but you know your boyfriend is far from done with you. "we both know that's a damn lie." he clicks his tongue. "you're always acting out, so it seems like i gotta really start putting you in your place, hm?" you're about to protest when he smacks again, drawing a sob from you; the sound goes straight to his core. he licks his lips, a smirk stretched across them as he readies his palm once more. "now, stop crying and start counting, whore."

link two.

it's no secret that minho is a certified ass man. he loves you, but god does he love your ass just as much. everything about it sends him reeling, from the way it's accentuated in the clothes you wear, to the plump flesh of it that jiggles every time he's got you on your hands and knees. you'd argue he puts you in this position at least once every time you two fuck because knowing your boyfriend, he just wants to watch the way you push back on him when he's bottomed out inside you. he'll give you a few smacks here and there on it too, kneading the skin in his palms before he's snapping his hips into yours. most of the time, he'll refuse to cum inside of you, instead pulling out just before he tips over the edge to release all over your behind and back. you're not complaining though, you love the feeling of his seed dripping over it just as much as he does.

"mm, shit, you look so good right now, kitten." minho groans from behind you, cockhead practically battering your cervix with the way he's shoving himself in and out of you. your whines are high in pitch with how he's fucking you, and you stutter to speak when you try and respond. "y-you say that every time." you eventually manage to heave out, and minho chuckles breathlessly, fingers gripping the flesh of your ass in them as he bites his lip, moaning lowly at the way it bounces back against his dick. "can't help it. you're too hot." he grunts, pistoning his hips at a frenzied pace that knocks the breath out of your lungs. it only takes a matter of minutes before you're both cumming, loud noises filling the room as minho pulls out just in time so he can splatter his release all over your backside. his thumb dips into the seed that now decorates your ass, and he swipes to collect it, pushing it into your mouth. a grin decorates his face as you suck on it. "atta girl."

⥽ … SEO CHANGBIN: 

link one.

changbin is a gym fanatic through and through, and with his rigorous work out routine eventually came his well-built physique, chiselled and bulked up to the point you think you would barely recognise his past self. it refects in the way he walks, talks and holds himself; he loves his strength and he loves showing it off, especially to you. that's why every time you're both entangled in his sheets, it results in him urging you to stand up before hoisting you in his arms. some days he'll hold you in them and bounce you up and down his cock, relishing in the way your cries echo through the room alongside the slapping of skin. other days, he'll toss you around and headlock you as he pounds you from behind, groaning filth in your ear as he pushes you to the edge of tipping. either way, you love what he does, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"hng, so strong, binnie!" you wail, hands clutching your boyfriend's broad back and shoulders as your nails dig into his soft skin, sure to leave marks the next day. changbin just grunts at your sounds of pleasure, too immersed in fucking you onto his cock in your current position. he's got you clinging onto him for dear life as he enters you repeatedly, pride blooming in his chest when you acknowledge how hot it is that he can pick you up so effortlessly. "y-yeah, pretty? like when binnie fucks you like this?" he stutters slightly, too wrapped up in how your pussy clings to his girth. you nod your head rapidly, babbling about how close you are and how hard you're going to cum, spraying all over your boyfriend in due time when he slams into that spot hidden inside you. you're not even given a chance to recover afterwards, changbin manhandling you onto the bed on your stomach before he's sinking back inside. "just a little more, baby. binnie's gotta cum too, okay?" he's whining, and you keen despite the sting of overstimulation rushing through, not knowing you're going to end up letting him use you for another hour.

link two.

you've always known changbin is a romantic at heart, his soft-spoken nature despite the daunting aura he gives off due to his frame often sending your brain spiralling. it gives you whiplash, the way he treats you. some days he'll fuck you like he hates you, growling dirty comments to your face and spitting in your mouth as you shake through an orgasm. other days, however, he'll craddle you in his arms, caging your body underneath him as he rocks his hips against yours in deep, fluid motions. one of his favourite things to do during these instances is hold your hand. he loves the feeling of your fingers lacing through his, holding onto him as he delivers sharp strokes inside of you. something about it feels so raw, like both your souls are intertwined in one big hug. he'll kiss you dizzy, burying his face into your neck as you both whimper 'i love you's' to each other.

"baby.. fuck, baby." changbin moans, his breath fanning hot against the sticky skin of your shoulder from where he's nosed himself in. his hand clings to yours amidst his movements, and you mewl loudly when he thrusts particularly deep inside of you. "i love you. love you so much, my baby. my pretty, perfect angel." your boyfriend pants, head moving to bring his lips to yours in a messy meeting. it's filled with so much love and care, your mouths moulding perfectly against one another's as you exchange kisses. your stomach feels like it's filled with butterflies, but you're not sure if that's because of how fucking in love you are with him or because of changbin rocking his hips into you. either way, you pull apart from him, trying to say it back in the middle of your noises of pleasure. "l-love you so much, binnie. fuck, you always give it to me so good." you praise, and changbin visibly shivers, burying his face back where it was between your neck to continue making love to you until at last, you're both coming undone together.

⥽ … HWANG HYUNJIN: 

link one.

one thing you adore about your precious lover boy is his mouth. his pretty, plump lips that kiss your tears away, or his dangerously addictive tongue that's always finding it's way between your thighs when he feels like it, which is basically all the time. hyunjin can't help that you taste so sweet, or how you're always so perfectly wet for him by the time he's journeyed down to your legs where you truly need him. he'll spend hours buried between them, parting you with his slender fingers and holding you open for him to lick into. he finds extreme satisfaction in the way you push back against his body when he's having a go at you, too weak to move him in your futile efforts of running away from his mouth once he's had you cum twice without stopping. he'll continue anyways though, because to him, there's no better treat after a long day.

"hyunie, s-slow down." you whimper, the lewd suckling sounds of your clit being wrapped in your boyfriend's mouth resonating through the room as he messily eats you out. his movements are filled with fervour and desperation, something you'll never get used to experiencing despite how long you've been together. each time almost always feels like you're starring in some obscene porno with the way hyunjin always drawls out the most nasty sounds from you. this instance is no different either, because before you can even react, you're spraying droplets of clear liquid on his face, your boyfriend groaning into you at the feeling of you squirting on him. he cleans it all up with great pleasure, breathing heavily as he finally rises from his position to slot himself between your legs. his lips find yours in a dirty kiss, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. "you're insatiable." you murmur when he pulls away, and hyunjin chuckles, mouth hovering over your jaw as you tremble at his next words. "not my fault my baby's got the tastiest cunt in the world."

link two.

hyunjin is a freak through and through. you've known for a while that he gets off on all sorts of things, and one of them is primarily the risk of being sneaky in public, regardless if it's planned or not. there have been one too many occasions of the latter where you've both been out on a date together with you looking a little too good, too good to the point that the waiter starts flirting with you and leaving hyunjin seething. it's only high time after that until he's dragging you out of the restaurant and into his backseat, too lazy to even undress properly before he's sinking inside of you to fuck you as he sees red. he'll get so possessive too, groaning how you're his and his only whilst pulling you back by your hair. it's true that your boyfriend is a big lover, but when times come down to this, he'll drill into you like he absolutely loathes you.

"dirty slut, letting me fuck you where anyone can see. you'd even let that server find you like this, wouldn't you?" hyunjin grits out, his sweat dripping onto your back as he shoves his long length in you. you're sure the windows are fogged up by now, his car rocking with his movements, but neither of you care about that. "n-no, only want you to see. just you, hyune." you whimper, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the way his cock slams in you with each thrust. your boyfriend lets out a low moan at your words, yanking you back by your hair to lick at your neck. "that's right, princess. only i get to look at this pussy, hm? only i can f-fuck it right, yeah?" he grunts, slender fingers coming up to wrap around your throat as you nod shakily, taking a deep breath as hyunjin squeezes slightly. "gonna cum in this cunt and fill you up with my babies so everyone knows who you belong to. then, i'm taking you straight home to fuck you full again. got that?"

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: '𝖫𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖱𝖾𝖽' ༄࿔ 𝖡.𝖢.

⤷ Size Kink | Stomach Bulge | Teratophilia (Wolf-Hybrid)

♱ word count: 1.8k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, Red Riding Hood reader x Wolf Hybrid Chan, I never specify body type but this has stomach bulge & Chris is described to be bigger than the reader so read at ur own discretion, size kink, teratophilia, knotting, kinda corruption?, bribery/coercing, lowkey kinda mean chris (everyone act surprised. Sian wrote mean dom), rough sex + big dick chris with no mentions of prep, biting, public sex? Its in a forest but nobody is around, 1 use of “good girl’

sorta proofread

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

“Tsk tsk tsk… You should know better than to be this far out in the woods, Red. You know this is my territory.”

“C-Chris! Listen… I’m really sorry but I need that plant over there. Grandma isn’t doing well and the only remedy that will help needs just a few of those flowers…” The tall man looks over his shoulder, eyeing the purple-colored flowers that you had pointed out.

“Hm… Okay, you can have a few.” The bright smile that grew on your face was almost enough to let you take it for free. Almost.

“Thank-” “On one condition.” 

“C’mon, sweet girl. You know I don’t do things for free~” His rough fingers stroked your cheek and he couldn’t help but grin as your smile dropped. The canines that peeked out from behind his plump lips were enough to bring you back to reality and remind you that he was in fact still a wolf hybrid and not so much your “friendly” neighbor.

“What exactly do you want…?” His grin seemed to get wider before he took his bottom lip between his teeth. A predatory glint took over his eyes as he slowly looked you up and down.

“I have something in mind…”

“Open the fuck up.”

His growl rumbles from deep within his chest and he thrusts his hips forward aggressively, causing you to cry out. Your thighs ache from the action, along with your swollen pussy thanks to the big dick that was currently tearing your insides up. You lost count after the first 5 inches, and now the seemingly never-ending length was quickly becoming too much for you.

He knew this all too well. But that didn’t stop him from forcing you and your little human body to take every last inch of his thick cock inside of you.

“C’mon Little Red, you can take it. You need to, remember?” He chuckles and pushes your thighs further apart. “You need those pretty little flowers, so you need to take my fucking cock.” His smile drops at the end of the sentence and he pulls out just to roughly thrust back inside. You moan out in surprise and his fingers dig further into your thighs, leaving crescent-shaped divots in your skin. 

“P-Please…” He clicks his tongue and leans forward more, shoving his face into your neck with another growl. With this, he manages to push another inch or two into your puffy hole, but your mind is so foggy that you don’t even notice it right away. The feeling of him breaching your walls so aggressively, all while he growls and huffs about how he needs to be all the way in for it to “count as payment” makes your head spin.

Even more so as a sob rips from your throat when he finally bottoms out. Your jaw drops and you squeal as his hips grind against yours, causing him to feel deeper all while he rubs against your G-Spot so perfectly. He throws his head back at the feeling of you completely wrapped around him and groans deeply when you clench subconsciously.

“There we go~ Good job, baby.” He licks a stripe up your neck before placing kisses all over it, letting you take a few seconds to breathe. He wasn’t that much of a brute- he did still care for you after all. Plus, what good is a new toy if you break it so early on!? So he takes a few seconds to himself, backing away and fixing his posture, allowing him to get a good look at you. And God do you look exquisite.

He licks his lips and looks over your body multiple times, doing everything in his power to burn this image of you into his head. He starts with your pretty lips, swollen and shiny with drool, and then your flushed cheeks that are wet from the fat tears that fall down them.

His eyes glance at your arms, smiling to himself at the army of goosebumps that have littered your skin as your body shakes deliciously with what he can’t decipher if it’s pleasure or pain. Your chest catches his eyes next; the way it heaves with each breath you take makes his chest swell with pride. But the thing that took the most of his attention, was the not-so-little bump on your tummy.

His lips were slightly parted and his breath was quickening as he lightly traced the outline of his dick. It’s at this point that he realizes just how large and wide he is compared to you. He’s always noticed- it’s quite hard not to. But when he has you like this, below him and completely at his mercy, he finally realizes just how much bigger he is. The sun only urges him further, casting a giant shadow over you that completely covers you and some of the ground you lay upon.

It makes his instincts go absolutely crazy and he can’t hold himself back from experimentally thrusting, moving at an angle that makes the bulge more prominent. The squeak you let out causes his eyes to flicker back up to your face, essentially snapping him out of the daze he was in. And when he meets your confused face looking up at him, he realizes how long he has been staring.

“Haha… Take a look at this, baby.” He wipes some of your tears and tilts your chin to help you look down. The desperate moan you let out sends his ego to the moon, causing him to twitch against your walls. He huffs out a laugh in disbelief and begins to move his hips, thrusting into you slowly yet roughly.

“I’m so deep… You feel that, baby?” His hand moves from your thigh and pushes down on your lower stomach, right on top of where the bulge popped out each time he bottomed out. “Fffuck.. ‘S my fat cock in your tummy?”

“God- Fuck, shut up Chris-” You clench tightly at his words despite your words and he ignores you in favor of picking up his pace, groaning when your walls flutter around him even more.

“You feel so fucking good. It’s almost like this pretty pussy was meant for me.” You swear you almost see his eyes roll into the back of his head, but he immediately brings your attention away by folding you in half. Pushing your knees to your chest and letting your ass hang in the air as he completely hovers over you, fucking into you with carnal need.

This new position makes you see stars and he uses it to his advantage, pounding into you and not allowing you time to think straight. He chases this brutal pace until your legs begin to ache, the pain of it overpowering the pleasure and making you hurriedly tap on his shoulder and push him back, “Fuck, wait- my legs.”

He huffs in annoyance but responds immediately, sitting up straight and allowing your legs to fall to his sides. His hips continue to thrust shallowly as you breathe deeply and try to rub the ache away, but this break doesn’t last long. You owe him payment, and he wants it now.

So he pulls out, opting to quickly flip you onto your knees and push your chest into the ground. You’re given no time to object before he’s shoving his entire length back inside with a groan. Your body shakes at the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. The back of your throat even itches as if his tip was poking it. And god, did it genuinely feel like that.

It’s not hard for him to find his previous pace, especially now that you’re seemingly more pliant for him. The only disobedient action from you is your cries for him to slow down, but he has no plans to. Not when you look absolutely ruined below him.

He shushes you and leans forward, holding you down with his chest against your back as he continues to fuck you as if his life depends on it.

“Shhhhh… It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re gonna be good and take it right? You're gonna let the big bad wolf fuck your brains out? Yea?” Your fingers dig into the ground and you nod as best as you can with your cheek shoved against the floor.

He’s unhappy with the silent answer and bares his teeth, sinking them into your shoulder with a growl to “Use your words.”

“Y-Yes! Please, Chris!”

“Goood girl. Just sit there and take this fucking dick. Let Wolfy use you like the good chew toy you are.” The new name makes you clench tightly around him and he groans as you cum, causing the squelching noises to become even louder. He moans and nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving small kisses before he chomps down again.

The overstimulation is starting to hit and you cry out, desperately pushing against the ground in hopes of pushing your torso up and off the floor. But that’s not what good toys do. So he growls against your neck and pushes you down, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to keep you in place as he fixes his posture.

“No. You’re gonna sit still. Good toys don’t fucking move. I can’t knot you if you’re misbehaving.” As if to prove his point, his other hand digs into your waist, holding you even more still as he rams into you.

Thanks to his thick tip incessantly knocking into your cervix, you don’t process what he says right away. At least, not until you feel an extra mass pushing against your swollen folds. “W-Wait, your knot?!?”

You hear his earrings jingle as he tilts his head and you can almost hear the shit-eating grin on his face as he mocks you. “Yes, my knot. You’re gonna take it inside of this tight. little. cunt. And you’re going to take every last drop of my cum.” You go to disagree but your body reacts on its own, clenching around him and trying to suck him in impossibly deeper.

“F-Fuck- feels like you do like that idea, baby.” He grits his teeth and starts to focus on sharp thrusts. Once his knot finally breaches your hole, you sob into your arm and bite into it to hold back a scream.

He whines and grinds into you, rubbing against your G-spot roughly as he pushes himself over the edge. You can feel his breath on your neck, heavy and heaving as he pumps you full of his seed. His body shakes with each spurt of cum he releases, and the overwhelming movements are enough to push you over the edge again; the needy grinding from him mixed with the mind-numbing feeling of being overfilled, yet forced to hold every last bit, pushing you towards another orgasm.

“Mmmm… Hold it there, yeah? Keep my pups nice and safe in their new home, and I’ll let you take as many plants as you want. Deal, Little Red?”

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