#Despite the fact that I had beaten it months ago

[krafterwrites]

Why does Sonic Heroes keep erasing my progress. I just want to finish this game

[iwritefandomimagines]

NOT MY FIRST RODEO — COOPER HOWARD/THE GHOUL

masterlist

part two | part three [coming soon]

pairing: cooper howard/the ghoul x reader, mentions of john hancock x reader hehe

description: the tension between you and cooper had been palpable for ages, and he was beginning to struggle to deny his attachment to you — despite his reluctance. he’s certain you’d never really be interested in him like that, until he finds out he’s not the first ghoul to enjoy your company.

warnings: swearing, jealous!coop, sexual references/implied smut, angst, making out, mentions of drug taking

author’s note: writers block was POOF! gone the minute i rewatched fallout last week & restarted fallout 4. hancock will always be my bf so i couldn’t help myself from mentioning him. let me know if u want a part two with actual smut! i only left it out because i don’t really usually write smut on this blog haha.

—

Cooper Howard and John Hancock were by no means what you’d call friends.

However, as much as it pained him to admit it, the former knew that the latter was — by the standards of many — a good man who’d do the right thing to help others when needed.

That was why, however begrudgingly, he’d suggested that you spend the last few hours of today’s daylight making the short trip to Goodneighbor to stay ‘for a while’.

It was clear that an intense few days, hunting a difficult son of a bitch of a bounty, had very much tested your limits.

He told himself that, given the amount of caps that said son of a bitch had earned you, you could afford a couple of days laying low in Goodneighbor before picking up another job.

Well there was that and the fact that much to his dismay, in the short time you’d been accompanying him on the road he’d found himself irritatingly attached to you.

When he’d first stumbled upon you while collecting a bounty you’d failed to deliver on yourself, you’d enthusiastically offered your companionship and he’d fervently denied it.

You knew he doubted you’d be any use based on your circumstances when you met, but despite your reassurances that it was just because he was the notorious fucking ghoul that everyone went on about and he had simply beaten you to it, he dismissed you with a “not a chance, sweetheart,” and went on his way.

But when he kept bumping into you in the following days, he’d given in and afforded you the luxury of helping him out on this one job — allowing himself the comfort of the excuse that if he really needed, he could trade you for caps and say goodbye to the pretty girl so oddly desperate to be at his side.

You’d driven him crazy at first — full of questions and curiosity, never refraining from voicing what was on your mind.

The way you watched him so carefully, all doe-eyed and attentive, had initially just pissed him off. But in the weeks that followed this had mellowed, and he’d found himself almost grateful to have someone so comfortable around him.

He’d never admit that though.

You’d just been much more skilled in combat than he had expected. That’s why he told himself he kept you around.

He totally just figured that it couldn’t hurt to have someone close by who can handle themselves and is willing to take just a tiny stake of a bounty (on your part, you figured there was no need to take more — he basically spent his share with you anyway).

You, on the other hand, didn’t want to admit that you had been lonely and desperate and missing the life you’d previously been so comfortable in when Cooper walked — well, stormed, into your life.

He might not ever have intended to (in fact — if he’d known, he’d probably never have let you get so close) but upon gradually letting you into his life he’d nestled his way into the empty little nook left behind in your heart.

“Why did you hesitate when I said Goodneighbor?”

Oh yeah, there was that.

When you’d left Goodneighbor all those months ago, you’d left with a broken heart and a head full of hazy memories of the happiness that the place had once brought you.

“I didn’t hesitate.”

“You sure as shit did, and even you know you’re a damn bad liar,” the Ghoul scoffed, pausing his pacing and turning to look you in the eye, “What does a pretty little thing like you know about Goodneighbor?”

You folded your arms over your chest, shaking your head at him as his steely eyes bore into yours, “Nothing. Just odd you’re suddenly so eager to go hide away somewhere when you’ve called me all sorts’a names any time I’ve asked for even a short rest break.”

“You’re full’a shit,” his hand flew instinctively to the shotgun at his hip before he released a deep sigh and relaxed it, “So I’m gonna ask you one more time. What do you know about Goodneighbor?”

You pondered for a moment whether or not to keep lying to him — he didn’t know much of your full past beyond the fact that you’d been a vault dweller a long time ago and been fighting for a living since.

You’d settled briefly in a number of places, though, and he’d heard too many stories about times you’d left settlements for various reasons to believe that you’d be too scared to return anywhere with him at your side.

Especially not somewhere like Goodneighbor.

“I—was living there for a while,” you shrugged, avoiding his gaze again now, “Didn’t like it.”

The Ghoul laughed humourlessly at that, “C’mon sweetheart, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

“I didn’t feel—look there’s just someone I don’t really want to see round there, okay?” your eyes didn’t leave the floor as he took a step closer to you, heavy breaths almost taunting further information from you.

“And who might that be?”

You looked up at him for just a second before eyeing the dust below your feet again, “I was, well, I lived there quite a while. I was—seeing, well, romantically— uh, there was—,”

“Spit it out, sunshine.”

Sunshine.

You’d not been called that since the day you left Goodneighbor the last time, and you cursed yourself for physically recoiling at the sound of it.

“Well I’ll be fuckin’ damned. You got a thing for ghouls, huh?” the wicked grin on his face set your stomach alight with a combination of emotions, “Didn’t peg a pretty little thing like you as the type. That why you spent so long beggin’ me to take you with me? Little vaultie princess desperate for another ghoul to defile her?”

You were crimson red now.

You didn’t know how to react, startled by the fact that he knew who you meant based upon your reaction to the term.

Hancock had always been charismatic and flirtatious though — it was no wonder Cooper had heard him use the phrase before.

You were almost angry, immensely embarrassed and yet, at the same time, a little aroused by even his insinuation that he knew that you wanted him in that way.

You’d found him attractive almost immediately and yeah, maybe he was right and you did seem to have a thing for ghouls.

But you sure as hell weren’t going to let him stand there and make you feel embarrassed right now.

“That’s not it, it’s not some kind of—like—,”

“Hancock got bored of ya and you latched onto the next irradiated motherfucker you came across?” he spat, “Bet you regret it now you know that I sure as shit ain’t nothin’ like your precious old mayor.”

Somewhere in the harshness of his tone you were sure you could detect a hint of jealousy at the root of his mocking.

You sighed defeatedly, “I wasn’t looking for some kind of fucking replacement when I met you, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I just— you just— well— Whatever, it’s hardly like you’ve made any suggestion you’d want me if I made a move on you anyway.”

His eyes seemed impossibly dark now, narrowed on you as his finger reached up to tilt your chin upwards towards him, “Is that right, sweetheart?”

Your legs were like jelly beneath you, a jolt of lightning in your veins at his touch.

“Sure, you flirt with me, but you’re so damn up ‘n’ down sometimes that I don’t know if it means anything,” you shrugged, skin tingling as his fingers lingered beneath your chin, “If I was lookin’ to replace John, it would’ve taken more than you being a ghoul for that.”

If he still had eyebrows, they’d have been raised now, his eyes rolling, “Right, nobody comes close to Mr. Righteous Mayor.”

His breath fanned over your face, his eyes returning to stare into yours as if looking for a reaction he knew you wouldn’t want to give him.

But you were all riled up now — so he was going to get one.

“What, is this a pity party? You want me to tell you he’s not all that? That I’m better off now I’ve found you? Oh Coop… I want you, I need you, you’re better than him. Only ghoul for me,” you mocked, pressing your hand to your forehead in feigned fawning before snapping back to seriousness, as he watched you frustratedly.

“Like I said, you weren’t a replacement. I wanted company and somewhere along the way I’ve been fuckin’ stupid enough to like your company more than I should,” you huffed, “You don’t have to pretend you want more than this flirty-but-I-hate-you-a-little arrangement ‘cos you’re jealous knowing I’ve had much, much more than that with someone else— and another ghoul at that.”

A growl left his throat at your words, his hand meeting your waist and pushing you forward so that your back was pressed against the wall.

“You’re playin’ a dangerous game here, sweetheart,” he warned, “And it’s one you won’t win.”

Your head fell back in frustration and met the wall with a small thud as his other hand pressed firmly against the wall beside it.

“You think I feel inadequate or something?” he snarled, and for a moment you weren’t sure if the question was rhetorical.

“How the fuck should I know? It’s hardly like you let me know how you’re feeling ever,” you sighed, your mind growing increasingly cloudy at your close proximity and his hand still on your waist, “That’s all I meant about John. It’s nice to know someone wants you… Hell, it’s even nice to be told when they don’t no more just as long as you’re being told.”

He was baring his teeth in a snarl still, but his lips began curling back up into a smirk, “You think I don’t want ya? Think I haven’t thought about it when you’re at my side like a fuckin’ dog on a leash looking at me all doe eyed an’ fuckable?”

Your cheeks couldn’t have been more flushed, and you knew he could feel the way your thighs clenched together at his words.

“Then why haven’t you done anything about it?” your response was a breathy whisper, the hairs on your neck pricking up and your heart thumping hard against your ribcage.

“Oh that’s a whole can of worms you don’t want opened, sweetheart,” he licked his lips, “Sweet little thing like you shouldn’t be with someone like me. But looks like I ain’t gotta worry about that, huh? Hancock’s already spoiled ya.”

You broke his intense gaze for a moment, eyes finding the floor as your teeth grazed your lips shyly at the weight of his words.

You couldn’t help the feeling that swelled in your chest at the lingering jealousy, and hearing him talk about wanting you as badly as you’d wanted him all this time gave you the confidence to push it.

“Oh he spoiled me good, you’re right,” you shrugged antagonistically, trying to quell the pain that still sat in your chest — albeit pain that took up much less space now that you’d found Cooper.

He scoffed, “That’s fightin’ talk for someone who don’t wanna see him again, darlin’.”

“Yeah well, he made me the happiest I’d been in the Wasteland since I left the vault and then tossed me aside ‘cause he got it in his head that I didn’t actually wanna be with him, like I must’ve been using him for his power and couldn’t really love him ‘cause he’s a fuckin’ ghoul — as if I didn’t know that when we met,” you grunted, “That’s all the fuckin’ chems for ya.”

Cooper leaned in closer to you now, “Well he’s a fuckin’ bigger idiot than I already thought he was, giving up you when he had ya all to himself like that.”

“Figure he doesn’t care. Might as well be married to Goodneighbor anyway.”

There was silence between you for a moment, nothing but heaved breaths and heavy eye contact as you pieced together what to do next.

You watched Cooper’s eyes flicker down to your lips for a moment, and could almost see the conflict behind them as he battled the urge to kiss you.

“I don’t wanna see him, but I don’t still want him, if that’s what’s stopping you,” you gulped, “In case it’s not loud and clear, I want you. Just didn’t wanna see him without any confirmation you aren’t gonna rock up there and declare me as some kinda fuckin’ pet and humiliate me even more than he did.”

“Enough talk about him,” Cooper growled, one hand pulling your face to his by the jaw, “If he don’t realise what he’s missin’, I definitely fuckin’ do.”

Finally, he kissed you.

Your hands flew around his neck, lips meeting his with equal fiery passion and pure need.

His one hand still remained cupping your jaw, whilst the other explored the waistband of your trousers earnestly, thumbing at your hipbone.

Finally, after all of these weeks of pining and sexual tension, Cooper Howard was giving you exactly what you needed — and all thoughts of John Hancock melted away.

You found yourself pulling him as close as physically possible, allowing him to press you against the wall as he stole your breath with the intensity of the kiss.

“Mightn’t be your first rodeo, sugar,” his lips pressed just behind your ear as he spoke, “But I’m sure as shit gonna make it feel like it is.”

———

eeeee please lmk if you’d like a part two with smut. or just a part two where they eventually go to goodneighbor. please feel free to request more coop or some hancock, and be warned there are more coop x hancock’s gf/ex!reader fics in the drafts because i can’t stop myself!!!!

in the meantime — here’s my masterlist.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Temptation and Need

Summary: Can Y/N tempt Dean into what he needs?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Unprotected P in V sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, very brief m receiving), face-sitting, cum shot, overstimulation, big age gap (21 and 43), dirty talk, dub-con (sort of - the reader not taking no for an answer), masturbation, voyeurism (very brief), use of a vibrator, spanking, (brief), pussy slapping (brief).

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 3,895

A/N: A million years ago (okay, last December) I got a request from a lovely anon asking this:

hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap with dean winchester where the female!reader is like in her 20s and dean's is his 40s :) just some rough smut with like hair pulling where dean asks for her to sit on his face or something like that (if you're comfortable with it) and just dirty talks cause I absolutely love them haha :) I really love your writing btw!!!! thanks a lot <3

It took me about four and a half months to get to this, but it's finally here! Thank you so much for this request, hope you're happy with it Nonnie. And I hope everyone else who reads it enjoys it too. ❤️

Master List || Dean Winchester One Shots || Tag Lists

Y/N had known it would be good - no - amazing. Since the first time she’d laid eyes on Dean Winchester six months earlier, she’d wanted to feel him beneath her, above her, behind her, inside her. She’d wanted him any and every way she could have him.

She simply needed him with the heat of a raging fire that never cooled.

So she’d imagined this moment for more than a hundred nights, and she’d known it would be incredible. But her imagination had been woefully inadequate.

She’d been attempting to seduce Dean the entire time she’d known him. She knew that he knew how much she wanted him, but he’d been reluctant. Every time she sidled up close to him, he’d moved away. Any time she put her hands on him, his heart kicked up so she could feel it pound, and if she got close enough she could feel the hard evidence of his desire press against her. But inevitably he would gently lift her hands off of him and give her a look of warning.

“Stop this, Y/N.” He’d scold with heat pooling quick and fervid in his eyes.

One time he’d given her a look of exasperation and then scowled at her. “I’m too old for you dammit. I could be your father.”

She bit her lip and smiled, full of mischief, as she’d answered. “Well, I’m happy to call you Daddy, if that’s what you want.”

It was true that she was just barely twenty-one and Dean was forty-three, but she didn’t care. In fact, she’d always preferred older men. Men like Dean had experience and stamina, they knew just what to do to pleasure their partner. She’d never slept with anyone less than a decade older than her. Some people might say she had daddy issues (and maybe she did) but she didn’t care what other people thought - she pursued her own pleasure.

Yet in spite of plenty of sexual experiences with older men, despite all her fantasies about Dean, she’d never imagined this level of pleasure.

***

A few hours earlier:

Dean fell onto the library chair, closing his eyes with a groan and dropping his green duffel bag at his feet, just as Y/N walked into the room. 

“You’re back!” She called excitedly as she hurried towards him. “How was the hunt? Where’s Sam?”

Dean grunted as she hopped into his lap. His feet were planted on the ground, and he was slightly slouched in the chair creating the perfect seat for her. His long, muscular thighs rippled beneath her, and as she wiggled against him, she felt the telltale sign of his desire as the bulge at the front of his jeans hardened slightly against her thigh.

The muscle in his jaw jumped as he gave her a scolding look. “The hunt was long and bloody, but fine. It's finished anyway. And Sam is with Eileen."

She ran her finger across the small abrasion on his cheek. "Well, at least you're less beaten up than usual." She said with dubious cheer.

Dean snorted. "Yeah, it was a walk in the park. Now get off my lap so I can go take a shower.”

She nodded and slid off so he could stand, but when he moved off towards the showers, she followed. When he arrived at the shower room door, he turned to look at her standing close behind him. He gave a sideways nod towards the door.

“This is as far as you go, sweetheart.” He said with a raised brow; his gaze turned knowing as she pouted.

She tried for her most convincing tone. “But just think of how much more enjoyable it would be if I came in with you.” She could see in his eyes that he was thinking about exactly that scenario.

But he shook his head. “No. It’s late, you shouldn't have waited up for me. Go to sleep.”

She pouted some more and then sighed before giving him a winsome smile and a wink. “Yes, Daddy.”

Dean scowled at her but she just stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before slowly backing away. 

“Goodnight, Dean. I’m glad you’re home. I sleep so much better when you’re here.” She said truthfully.

He gave her a nod and then walked into the shower room. She heard the lock click and she sighed. Another night with nothing but her fantasies to sustain her. 

She went to her room and got ready for bed, slipping on the AC/DC t-shirt she’d stolen from Dean. He knew she had it, he’d seen her in it, but he’d never demanded it back. 

She crawled into bed and tried to go to sleep. But she was restless, her body aching in a way that wouldn’t end without Dean between her legs. 

Her skin was flushed and the soft wool blanket she was covered with irritated her overheated flesh until she threw it off of her. She brought her hands up to cover her face; she knew she wouldn’t get to sleep unless she did something about the longing that had overtaken her body.

So she rolled over and pulled open the bottom drawer of her bedside table, pulling out the modest-sized vibrator she kept hidden in there for nights just like tonight. Since moving into the bunker a few months ago, nights like tonight happened pretty much every night. 

She leaned back against her pillows and let her mind drift, allowing images to flash into her mind’s eye. Dean’s face, set in lines of intense desire; his hands, strong and hard, warm and rough, moving over her body. 

She slipped her hand past the waistband of her panties, letting her middle finger swirl around her clit, desperately trying to imagine it was Dean’s thick, blunt fingertip pressing against her.

After a few minutes of bringing forth endless hot and decadent images of Dean into her head, she turned on the vibrator and let it press against her clit a moment or two before sliding it through her dripping slick, and pushing it inside. 

As she fucked herself with the toy, she kept Dean’s body in mind - his powerful muscles and solid bulk - imagining him hovering above her. She worked at it for a long time, desperately seeking her release. 

But though she moved the vibrating silicone cock fast and hard in and out of her quivering cunt, she just couldn’t find it. After half an hour of coming so close, but constantly missing the mark, Y/N was whimpering and more frustrated than she could express. 

In desperation, she began to chant quietly, imagining that Dean was there with her and could hear her need. “Dean. Dean. Fuck me, please. Ugh, I need you so badly, I fucking need you.” Her voice crescendoed in a moan of disappointment as her orgasm stayed just beyond her reach. “Dean.” She whined as she bucked her hips desperately.

Suddenly she heard her door squeak open, making her squeal and rip the vibrator out of her body, shock coursing through her, making her heart pound. But then she fell completely silent as she saw Dean standing silhouetted against the hallway light.  

For a moment or two neither of them moved. Finally, Y/N turned off her vibrator and silence reigned. 

Dean finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I heard you. Heard you calling my name.” 

He took a step inside her room; she could see now that he was dressed for sleep, sweats and no shirt - she gasped softly at the incredible view of his wide chest, his shoulder muscles flexing as his hands balled into fists. She could also make out more of his face; it was set in harsh lines, the muscle in his jaw flexing over and over. He licked his lips and her pussy clenched.

“Why were you calling me?” Dean asked, though he had to know the answer as she still gripped the vibrator, and the scent of her dripping sex perfumed the air. 

She could sense that the cord that bound them, that had been pulling them together and apart since the day they met, was about to snap - if she could just say the right words.

She went with the truth.

“I was calling out to you while I fucked myself. I was imagining it was your cock buried deep inside me, imagining your hands on my skin, your lips on my throat.” Dean’s eyes were blazing emeralds with dark onyx pupils spreading across them as she spoke.

“But this thing wasn’t cutting it.” She said, lifting the vibrator and then dropping it on the floor beside the bed. “I need the real thing.”

She pushed her feet into the mattress and opened her knees wide, pushing her hand into her panties once again as she stared at him. “I need you, Dean. Please.”

The cord snapped and Dean charged forward, stopping at the end of her bed and grabbing her ankles to yank her towards him. She gasped as he placed a knee between her legs and rested his weight on his palms as he leaned down to capture her mouth. 

His kiss was hard, desperate, almost violent, as he crushed her lips and stabbed his tongue into her mouth. She moaned at the weight of him pressed against her, lifting her hips slightly so she could press her aching cunt against his thick thigh. She groaned harshly into Dean’s mouth as the pressure caused an even hotter fever to rage across her body.

Dean pulled out of the kiss and stood up, taking hold of her hands to pull her into a sitting position. His chest was rising and falling with deep breaths as he grasped the hem of his stolen t-shirt.

His voice was all growl when he spoke. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt about ripping this fucking t-shirt from your body? How many mornings I had to sneak away to the shower to jack off like a fucking horny teenager, after seeing you parading around in it? It barely covers your ass, and every time you’d bend, even a little, I could see a glimpse of your little cotton panties, or sometimes, just your bare ass in a thong.”

His voice was slightly dark, a rebuke in his words. “I knew you were doing it on purpose, of course, knew it was your way of trying to tempt me into fucking ruining you.”

He yanked the t-shirt up over her head as a moan escaped her. Dean groaned too as he got his first look at her. “Fuck me.” He said quietly. 

He looked her in the eye as he reached out and roughly tugged on her puckered nipple. She cried out, her head dropping back, as she arched her chest forward.

“God damn, baby, you really do want it, don’t you? I thought it might be a game you were playing, but you really do want me to ruin this hot little pussy.” He reached his hand down to rub against her soaked panties. “You want that, baby? Huh? Want me to fuck you sensless? Till you can’t walk? Can’t think?”

Y/N nodded disjointedly. “God yes.” She whispered, grabbing his wrist to try and press his fingers harder against her cunt. “Please. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Dean knocked her hand away and grabbed both her wrists tightly as he used his body weight to push her back onto the mattress. He stared at her, making her feel like he could see straight through her. Finally he spoke, his voice softer.

“How much experience do you actually have, Y/N?”

She shook her head to dispel any worries. “Enough. I’m no virgin, and I know what I like.”

His mouth lifted slightly at the corner. “And what do you like, baby?”

“I like it rough and hard, but I’ll take some soft wooing too.” She said with a grin. She shrugged. “Basically, I like you - a lot - and whatever you have in mind, I’m down for.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, but give me a safe word, just in case.” He kissed her softly. “I won’t take any chances with you.”

His concern for her made Y/N’s stomach flip in a pleasant way. She smiled. “K, how about ‘shenanigans’?” 

Dean chuckled. “Perfect.”

His smile faded as he bent his head to kiss her again, slowly this time, thoroughly, as though he didn’t want to leave an inch of her mouth unexplored. When he pulled away, leaving her gasping for air, he slowly kissed a path down her body, between her breasts, stopping to nip and suck on her nipples, pinching one and then the other, before trailing his lips down over her belly.

When he reached the apex of her thighs, he got off the bed to kneel at the foot of it, pulling her panties down over her legs and tossing them aside. He reached forward to wrap his arms around her thighs, spreading her open and pulling her to his mouth. He made a deep, guttural noise as he sank into her cunt, immediately licking and sucking on her sensitive skin, so that she was writhing beneath him almost instantly. She called out his name in desperation as she sank her fingers into his short hair, tugging slightly when he speared her with his tongue.

He pulled away from her and licked his lips free of her juices. “Fuck, yeah baby, say my name again, just like that.” 

He let go of one of her thighs so he could bring his hand between her legs and slap it hard against her pussy. Y/N gasped and then her hips bucked as he did it again.

“You’ve been a naughty girl with this fucking pussy, haven’t you? Pushing this dripping mess against me every chance you got. Fuckin' rubbing on me, and constantly begging me to fuck you.”

He smacked her a third time and Y/N felt her cunt throb with a deep ache. “Fuck, Dean yes! I’ve wanted you to fuck me, wanted you to take me apart for so fucking long. Please, please! Bury yourself so deep in me.”

She screamed in pleasure as he rammed two fingers into her, knuckle deep. As he crooked them forward inside of her, he leaned down to flick his tongue against her clit, making her rear up off the bed. She was so close now. She could feel the tension in her body just on the verge of snapping, when he suddenly pulled back from her, removing his fingers and causing her to wail and plead.

“No, please, Dean. More.” She whimpered pathetically as he stood up.

But then he pushed down his sweats and she caught sight of his cock for the first time. It was long and thick, just as she’d known it would be - everything about Dean screamed, “Big Dick Energy”. It was absolutely beautiful, red-tipped and standing at attention.

She sat up and reached for him, wrapping her hand around the base and sliding her tongue through his slit, licking up the pre-cum that beaded there. Dean stood rigidly, letting her lick at him like a lollipop for a couple minutes more before he pulled her hand away. 

“That’s enough for now, sweetheart.”

She pouted at him, but he just leaned down to grasp her waist, lifting her slightly and tossing her further up the bed. She gasped at the pleasure of being manhandled like a rag doll. He was on his knees as he moved towards her. He grabbed hold of her calves and flipped her over onto her stomach before smacking her ass once and then twice.

She moaned and instinctively lifted her hips, pushing her ass towards him for more. 

He slapped her again, and then ordered her, “Get on your knees, and lean forward to hold on to the headboard.”

She did as he said, grabbing on to the rails of her headboard tightly. He pushed her thighs apart before turning to lay on his back underneath her, pushing her knees open even further with his wide shoulders. 

Y/N was surprised; she’d thought he was getting her into position so he could take her from behind; instead she looked down to see his beautiful face positioned directly below her dripping cunt. 

“Sit on my face, baby. Fuck yourself on my tongue. Ride me.”

Y/N moaned as he lifted his head slightly so he could lick up through her folds. He dropped his head back to the mattress, though, and his voice was hard when he spoke. 

“Now.”

Despite all of her experience, Y/N had never been ordered to sit on a man’s face, and had never had oral sex this way. At first she was worried that she could hurt him, so she just lightly gyrated her hips against his mouth. But after a minute or so Dean grabbed onto her thighs and spoke angrily.

“I said sit, not float.” His hands pulled her down, forcing her to rest heavily against his face, so that she was truly sitting on it. His nose rubbed against her clit and Y/N couldn’t help grinding down against his mouth. His tongue delved deeply into her cunt, stabbing in and out of her entrance. 

Very soon Y/N was truly fucking herself on his face, using the strength of his jaw and the slide of his lips to create otherworldly sensations. Every once in a while she’d lift herself slightly to check that Dean was okay, but he’d always growl and pull her back down. 

Finally she could feel her orgasm growing inside her, felt the coil low in her stomach tightening almost to the point of pain, but then it burst open and she screamed as she rocked her hips and slammed herself down against Dean’s eager mouth as he slurped up everything she gushed onto him.

Aftershocks of her climax along with Dean’s probing tongue and plump, sucking lips, brought on two more mind-blowing orgasms. It felt as though she’d been edging herself for months and was now finally free to let go; her whole body trembled as Dean finally pushed her back and then rolled her under him.

Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked down into Y/N’s face; she knew she must look strung out, and she could feel unconsciousness creeping in. Dean must have seen it too because he shook his head and swiftly shoved three fingers into her cunt making her come alive again with a shout.

“No way, baby. You didn’t spend all these months begging me to fuck you, just to get off with coming a couple times and falling asleep. I want you fucked out completely. I want you stupid and useless beneath me. I want to fuck you so long that you’re just a boneless, lump of cock slut laid out on the bed.”

As he finished speaking he pressed his middle finger against her clit and that pressure, combined with his filthy words, was all it took to have her shouting out her ecstasy once again.

As she was coming down, Dean slammed himself into her, forcing her clenching walls open so her cunt could squeeze him tight as he sheathed himself inside. He pushed her knees wide open, keeping her feet in the air as he jackhammered into her. He slammed so hard and so deep, she knew he’d leave marks. 

And she knew she’d never experienced anything like it, nothing in her past, or even in her fantasies had prepared her for this level of raw passion and need.

She came two more times as he fucked up into her; he changed up his rhythm, going from hard and driving to slow and sensual as the mood suited him. By the time he flipped her onto her stomach Y/N did indeed feel boneless and stupid with pleasure.

“Please Dean.” She begged softly, not actually aware what she was asking for. 

“Come on baby, I didn’t say we were done, don’t give out on me now.” Dean said harshly as he lifted her hips. Her knees rubbed against the sheet, but really she was being held in place with Dean’s strength.

“I’m gonna make sure you’re seeing stars.” He told her before slamming her back onto his cock, drilling even deeper inside than he had before.

Y/N gasped, her pussy was so overly sensitive after being fucked for so long, but she couldn’t escape the intense rush of pleasure that came as Dean slammed his cock against her sweet spot deep inside her.

“Fuck, yes.” She mumbled into the pillow where her face was buried. 

“Yeah, that’s right baby.” Dean rammed into the spot again, making her scream, her throat raw from all her screams of pleasure. “Take every fucking inch. This is what you’ve wanted for months, isn’t it? Spent every minute I’ve known you trying to get us right here, haven’t you?”

He dropped one of her hips so he could spank her right cheek hard, watching it jiggle. “Answer me!” He demanded as he spanked her again before grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head up and back. “Tell me how much you’ve wanted this, little slut. Admit to prancing around this bunker, desperate for me to pin you down and fuck you just like this.”

“Yes!” Y/N gasped as he pounded into her over and over, never losing rhythm or strength. “Yes, fuck, yes.” It was all she could get out. She was truly exhausted, but she still chased the high he was raising within her with every thrust.

He spanked her again and then reached his hand around so that he could push against her throbbing clit. It took only a few circles with his finger, and a few more hammering thrusts before she shattered into a million pieces, seeming to shake and shiver forever.

As she came back to earth slightly, she could feel Dean pulling out of her. “I’m gonna come baby. Can I come on your ass?” She nodded and mumbled out a “yes.”

She heard him grunt obscenely, and despite her liquefied bones, her pussy still clenched at the sound, before she felt his sticky seed spurting across her ass, and lower back. He bucked forward, his thighs slapping against her ass as he shot another load, warm and wet, onto her skin.

Finally he fell to the side, and Y/N let her knees give out beneath her as she fell onto her stomach in complete exhaustion and immediate unconsciousness. She woke some time later to feel Dean wiping her clean with a warm cloth and pressing kisses up her spine.

When he saw her eyes flutter open, he tossed away the cloth and laid down beside her, kissing her nose and her cheek before pressing his mouth gently to hers. 

“You were so fucking perfect, Y/N. Everything I’ve dreamed about night after night.” He shook his head. “No, you were even more perfect than I imagined, so much more.”

She smiled softly and raised an eyebrow. “So you agree? You were an idiot and we should have done this so much sooner?”

He scoffed. “N’ah, it was perfect this way, at this time. But it’s gonna be even more perfect next time.”

Y/N grinned at him and tried not to be too obvious about how thrilled she was that there was going to be a next time. 

“I don’t know.” She teased. “You’re gonna have to try hard to do better than this.”

Dean grinned wickedly. “Challenge accepted.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

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@spnwoman

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@luvr4miya

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

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@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

[almightygremlinblob]

In Every Life (AFAB Ver.)

In which Sukuna falls in love with the Reader without realizing it.

Word Count: 5, 283 of slow burn. ⚠️Content Warnings⚠️: Not Beta Read, True Form Sukuna, Heian Era, Sukuna fluff, soft Sukuna, mentioned cannibalism, slight angst, Sunshine AMAB!Reader but gender neutral expressions used, Reader is not a sorcerer and is implied to be the only non-sorcerer of her village. Minors and ppl not okay with anything sexual pls DNI and have a nice day 👍🏽 AMAB!Reader (with gender-neutral pronouns) here

⚠️Further Content Warnings⚠️: Virgin!Sukuna, Sub!Sukuna, Reader and Sukuna both switch from gentle doms to subs, soft & fluffy sex, very messy sex, size difference, Reader makes out with the tummy mouth, squirting, lots of cum, cock worship, lots of fluids in general, belly bulge, lots of mouths, consensual blood drinking, this is getting worse the more I write lmao. THIS IS NOT BETA'D and I am very tired while editing this. SO! If you spot any mistakes, esp. with the body parts of Reader lmao (since I made two of these), pls tell me!

You were happy you managed to catch the attention of the King of Curses.

Sure, you didn't exactly know how you did it. You weren't strong, or exceptionally beautiful like the sons and daughters offered to him. You weren't even that smart!

You were clueless, as a matter of fact!

So clueless that, nearly a month ago, you gave the strange looking man with four arms a warm meal and a place to stay for the night - since it didn't seem like the storm would let up any time soon. He was pretty much shunned by the rest of the village upon his arrival…probably due to the overwhelming energy that sent people into fight or flight…but he was just born different!

Probably.

"What's your name, Mister?"

"…"

You quickly learned that he didn't speak much, and he does not like to be looked at. Only watching as you go about your day - trying your best to navigate through the judgement and, frankly, abuse of the other villagers; ever as judgemental about you as they were likely to talk down on you, spread rumors and try to take advantage of your endless kindness. Not that it worked, though - and for that, everyone pretty much hated you. Despite his silence, your visitor was the only one that seemed to regard you without any ounce of hatred.

Then, one day…

"Why do you entertain them?"

"Ah!" You visibly jumped at that moment - up until now you were certain he couldn't speak. His voice was lovely baritone, but held a quiet authority - much like him…and a very clear evil but you wouldn't dwell too much on that. "M-me? Oh…of course, me…"

"U-um…I'm not entirely sure, actually. I don't like them, b-but…" Those sharp, piercing eyes are distant, scanning the forest as you tried to think of a reason. "I-I guess they're my neighbors. Friends? No. But it wouldn't be right to just outright ignore them."

"Hmph, of course…" He scoffs, and rolls his eyes. "You people and your morals…"

"Do you not have friends?"

"No."

"Oh…" Your shoulders slump slightly. "Then, consider me your first friend!"

"No."

"Oh…"

When you visibly deflate, he laughs lightly, shaking his head as if he's heard something utterly ridiculous. "Why does that bother you? You hardly know me. I could be a mass murderer for all you know."

"Because you…you're…" You think for a while, before finding the right words. "One of the most unique people I've ever had the blessing of meeting."

His eyes finally land on you. "Blessing, huh?"

------

Eventually, the villagers turned violent towards you and your guest, but you did your best to keep him safe - urging him to leave, quickly. It was that day, when you were nearly beaten to death, that you learned the strange man's name.

"Die, you peasant!" There was something in the way these villagers attacked. A strange energy that made it hurt all the more. You were bloodied, bruised and beaten to the point you couldn't even find the strength to scream. A blade was pointed to your throat. "Any last words?"

Despite yourself, you manage to spit at him.

"I didn't think you had it in you." That familiar low voice, low and uninterested, sounds from behind you both. Then, before your very eyes, everyone was somehow cut to pieces. No screams, or cries…just the sounds of flesh and bone being cut apart. You were probably hallucinating...

You see your guest walk beside you - the gore, guts and limbs not affecting him in the slightest.

"Ah, you're okay…" His eyes land on you again. "B-be careful…t-there's an invisible…invisible something that's cutting people up…"

He scoffs. "And if I told you that was me?"

"What."

"Tsk." He promptly grabs you and, without you even realizing, your wounds begin healing, closing up, and suddenly you're more aware than you were a while ago. Then, with the flick of his wrist, the bodies get further chopped apart. The gears in your head start to turn and your eyes widen. "O-oh…"

"Go on, then. Go ahead." He grabs your face, forcing you to look at the disembodied people and the growing river of blood. "Run."

"No. No…" Your breathing steadies, and you relax into his hold. He must sense it with the way his whole body tenses for a moment. "Not from you."

In the silence, you can practically hear him thinking as he gets up. And when he made no move, you realized he was waiting for you. So you got up too, wordlessly, and began to follow him. After a while of silence, he graces you with his voice again - quiet, almost…soft.

"My name is irrelevant…but people call me Sukuna Ryomen, the King of Curses."

------

And that was the start of your new life, as a servant of the King of Curses.

It…wasn't so bad! Sure, you could be killed any day, like a few of the other servants and many of the courtesans, but you also didn't do much! And, best of all, no more of those abusive neighbors! Your days were mainly spent helping the head servant - the attractive one with white hair and a pink splotch - do things for the king, for only up to four hours. Four hours! Then you'd spend the rest of the day doing whatever!

This was not one of those days, however.

Today, you were cleaning the Lord's study, in his chambers, along with the attractive head servant. There were...a strangely high number of Dokudami paintings...

"The Lord seems to have an obsession with this herb. Does he like it?"

"That's an interesting observation. Though you're mistaken. It's more the symbolism of this plant."

"And…that would be?"

"Its flowers are delicate, pure. The plant itself is medicinal against many illnesses - it's endlessly helpful. Kind. But it grows everywhere, even in the places not many grow. A surprising resilience despite it's 'delicate' nature." The head servant explains, and you can hear the tinge of amusement in their voice. "Remind you of anyone?"

"Uh…no? No one comes to mind…"

They simply snort at that.

------

The first time you were called to his chambers, you thought you were going to die. Actually, everyone thought you were going to die. They were all giddy at the thought. You didn't expect to just sit there in silence while he practiced his calligraphy.

"I can hear you thinking. Speak."

You fidget around a little, before getting the words out. "I've always been meaning to ask…why…why me, my Lord?"

He clicks his tongue. "You dare question my choices?"

"N-no! Only…I'm curious."

Sukuna is silent for a while, hand perfectly still as he thinks, before eventually speaking.

"You calm me." He sighs as his brush continues to move. "Somehow, every time, you calm me."

------

The courtesans could see you from outside, and you could practically feel them glaring daggers at you - endlessly furious and envious that you could be that close to the Lord.

"My Lord, you…never seem to show interest in your courtesans. Have they, I mean…" You weren't sure how to word it without coming off as too brash.

"Of course they try to bed me. They always do. Don't even try to hide that they're doing it to gain a semblance of power in my estate. The last two were just…" He waves his hand dismissively, tone making it abundantly clear he wasn't happy with the memory. "Had her head cut off and the second had his limbs strewn on the floor."

You feel his gaze on you, scowl evident in even his voice. "Why do you ask me about this?"

"It's just…you have so many, I thought, well..."

"Tsk. They only want something from me, and they think they can take it freely. From me. Me!"

"Surely not ALL of them…" You fidget a little. "Why would you keep them around if that was? There's…there's so many…"

You can practically hear his smirk. "Because their organs taste GREAT sautéed."

"A-ah…"

He snorts, seeing your discomfort. "Are you afraid of becoming like them?"

"I…hm…" You look up in thought. "Perhaps…"

He lets out a soft laugh. "Then you truly are a fool."

"But…I think, it would be a good sacrifice." You finish the last area, as he goes awfully quiet. "Like an offering to a god. I think…I think I wouldn't mind that."

His presence is more than clear behind you, strong and foreboding. "Do you mean it?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Liar. Everyone says that…" He scoffs. "…but, nobody means it. If given the chance…"

You hear a sound, sharp and strong, much like a blade. A pain blooms from your wrist, and you realize you're bleeding lightly - only a few drops of blood at a time. "They all run."

"No. I wish to stay by your side, my Lord. I have nowhere I'd rather be." When you relax and make no move to run, a big and warm hand engulfs yours.

"You…weren't lying." You feel lips against the wound on your outer wrist, and the swipe of a tongue against it before the wound starts to close. "You fool…"

------

Many in the estate didn't like you, jealous of how close you were to the Lord - but it wasn't everyone. Now, it was everyone. Rumors fueling jealousy and malice for the very obvious favoritism.

Taking little nibbles, you didn't want to take more than your share.

The food was beyond AMAZING. However, Sukuna simply scowls as you shyly keep your head bowed and you must feel his gaze harden by the way you flinch under it.

"I apologize. I just…don't want to take more than my share…"

"Do you mean to insult me? This entire meal is yours." He scoffs, grabbing your bowl. He grabs one of the sushi rolls and puts it against your mouth, which is still closed due to your surprise. "Eat. I won't accept this…whatever it is you're doing."

"O-oh, I-…thank you, my Lord." You open your mouth and allow him to feed you. Light blush forming from how good the food is. Yes, that was definitely why. "My compliments to the chef. This is beyond delicious, my Lord…"

And it was true, the sushi, the miso soup, selection of meats, everything tasted DIVINE.

"Compliments taken."

WAIT-

You nearly choke on your food. "I-I apologize…my Lord. I, you…for me???"

"Use your words."

"I mean, ah…" You shake your head, trying to recover from your mind going into overdrive. "You…made this for me?"

"Yes." He says it so plainly.

"What…what for?"

He doesn't answer and, for once, looks unsure. "I…I don't know."

------

When you came out of his chambers unscathed the second time, everyone - except for Lord Sukuna himself and his servant - went into a frenzy. The servants were appalled, the courtesans were fuming, and you made sure to steer clear of everyone who now seemed to loathe you. And, soon enough, all your duties were either with the head servant, with Lord Sukuna, or by yourself. Still, you didn't feel safe in the estate anymore.

Then, one night, the head servant came to your quarters, stating that "Lord Sukuna has requested I take you to his chambers."

If you weren't going to die physically, you would die of embarrassment.

Still, you followed the white haired servant to his chambers, entire form trembling as you nearly stumbled over yourself. Sukuna glances you once over, and can't help the snort that escapes his lips. You looked like a newly born fawn with how shaky your legs were.

"My sincerest apologies. I just…nervous…"

"That much is clear. Sit." Something is off and you can tell he's tense. "This probably isn't going to go how you're expecting."

You do as he says, sitting seiza in front of him. Something sharp is pointed to your throat, right where the artery is. Your eyes go wide, but after a little bit, you allow your entire body to relax. If you should die by anyone's hand, it would be his.

"Look at me." He commands and you look up, seeing him holding a spear of sorts. For the first time, you see him - truly see him. His form beautiful, terrifying and divine all at once. Your eyes and body must show your adoration, because he looks away - as if uncomfortable.

He shuts his eyes, and the spear is repeatedly pushed against your neck, as if trying. However, it never follows through. This was so easy for him, and yet…

"My Lord, if I should die today, it would be the greatest honor for it to be by your hand." Your body relaxes, eyes close and you lean into the blade of the spear. Sukuna tenses, and you feel it in his hold. "If it's by your hand, my Lord, I can only die happy."

"Yes. That much you've made clear." You hear him sigh, tired and defeated, as the spear drops to the floor. "To think this is how I'd lose…how pathetic…"

"M…my Lord?"

"Leave."

You see him, frustrated and defeated, and it makes your heart ache to see him like this. Without even realizing it, your hand reaches out and stops just before touching him. "Might I stay for you? Please, I only want…"

His glare nearly has you frozen. "THIS is how you want to celebrate a victory over me?"

"No, my Lord. I only wish to stay by your side and help how I can."

He's quiet, clearly upset. "Do what you will with me. I might as well be worthless like this anyway."

"Never to me, Lord Sukuna." You take his hand in both of yours, and bring your lips to his knuckles but he quickly pulls his hand away.

"What?!" He snarls. "What use is your loyalty to someone like me now?"

"You are my Lord, Sukuna. I serve you…" Your eyes meet his, full of longing and concern. "Anything I can do to help you, please let me…"

His eyes briefly glance at your quivering lips, leaning in without realizing before he turns away with a click of his tongue.

"Leave."

And you do as you are told.

------

"How is Lord Sukuna?"

Was one of the most frequent questions you'd pester the head servant's ears with. They roll their eyes. "He's not frail, you know. You don't need to worry about him like a mother hen."

"I just…it's been a week since I've seen him! If he doesn't want to see me, that's fine, but…I-I'd at least like to know if he's okay…" You sigh. "And what I did wrong…so I can avoid doing it again!"

"Just give him time to process." The head servant states nonchalantly. "This is new territory for him."

------

The silence was…

Awkward, to say the least.

Not a word uttered as he continued to paint those stupid edible weeds in the candle-light. It was already late…

"A-ahem." Your voice breaks slightly when you clear your throat, and you feel his gaze on you. "M-my Lord, if there's nothing else, I shall retire for the night."

"Stay."

What.

"Don't make me repeat myself." Clearly your reaction was evident in your body, and you choke on your words before they even get out.

"That night was my first defeat." He says, as if sensing your question, yet you hear a tired and heavy sigh. "As of now, it's been my only one."

"But…have you been okay, my Lord?"

"Always about me, hm?" He scoffs, and there's tension as his footsteps grow closer. Your eyes meet his, beautiful and terrifying, when his fingers gently tug your chin up - guiding you to look at him. Guiding your body to the mattress as he cages you underneath him. "And why not just claim your victory? I have no right to complain. Isn't that what you meant to do the night you defeated me?"

"What? No! My, Lord, no! I-I'm sorry. It wasn't-I didn't mean-It's not what you think! I could never-" Your hands cover your mouth - shocked at the implication. "Oh Lord Sukuna, I bow to you! Only you! I-I will never, could never, force something like that on you! Not then. Not now…"

"Good. This was getting overwhelming." He sighs and then promptly rolls off you, plopping down to your side. Though your skins were still touching and, for once, Sukuna didn't mind someone this close to him in this way. He was relaxed, as if his worries melted away. You couldn't help the smile that grew. This was the Lord you know - a walking death and calamity, now pacified. You both face each other and he can't help but look away, cracking under the weight of your loving gaze - full of adoration, concern and awe.

Weak.

He was weak.

"Lord Sukuna, may I?" Your hand reaches out to him, stopping just before reaching the wooden part of his face. He was so terribly beautiful.

"Do as you wish." He mumbles, and you gently hold him - even though he doesn't show it, you can feel him tense.

"My Lord, what's wrong?" There it is again, the weight that makes him feel like he's breaking without being broken. "I know you don't need it, but I only wish to help in any way I can…"

His mouth opens and closes several times before he's able to finally find the worse. "You've broken me. Made me weak…and I can't even curse you, or wish we'd never met because I'd be lying."

You chuckle. "My Lord is far from weak."

"Yet I am powerless against you." His four eyes bore into you, in them a mix of desperation and longing, as you gently stroke the wooden part of his face. Finally, he closes his eyes, relaxing against you. "And I never thought defeat could feel like this…"

"Is it pleasant, my Lord?"

"It is…" You feel his fingers tracing along your collarbone, up to your jawline and you feel something wet licking your skin as his hand rests on your throat. A mouth on his hand, gently licking and suckling on the sensitive parts of your neck. "…but only if it's you."

"Lord Sukuna…" Despite everything, you feel he's still tense. "You're tense. Would you like me to…?"

"Yes. I meant to bed you tonight, but this…it's…" He sighs. "Overwhelming. I'm not clueless, but something about you makes it all…too much…"

"Then let me lead, my Lord." You gently push him down, and he lets you - following you as you guide him. His hand takes hold of your chin, pulling you in so your lips meet his. His kiss was tentative and unsure, or perhaps more accurately, scared. Scared of every feeling that threatened to overthrow him. You eagerly massaged your lips against his nonetheless. "Please…allow me to worship you tonight, Lord Sukuna."

His breaths become heavier when you straddle him, gently undoing his kimono while he easily rips your clothes to shreds with a flick of a wrist. Your lips mark his skin gently. Moving down to worship his mouth, jaw, his shoulders, both chests and finally to the mouth on his stomach - who was breathing just as heavy. Sukuna tenses when you take his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it and explore the much bigger one with your smaller tongue.

When you pull away, there's a small pool of saliva where the stomach mouth lay open and plenty on you where the mouth-hands had left their marks on your skin. Both his cocks, beautiful, heavy and fat, sat on his stomach where they were already leaking with arousal. Sukuna's breathing turned heavy, and as your hands move to his waist, stopping just before doing anything, you look up at him. "My Lord, if at any time you wish for me to stop, please say so. I will stop without hesitation or question."

"Always about me…" He chuckles and, in a sudden movement, easily manhandles you so your dripping cunt is on his stomach-mouth. "No, I do not wish to stop. But if you truly ask for nothing in return, then let me be gracious."

"M-my Lord, ah-" Your eyes roll back when you feel that giant tongue lapping at your juices, the both of you moaning as he did so.

"Delicious…" Fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing circles as a mouth sucks hickeys on your skin and your chest - finding the sensitive nubs and harshly tugging. You hear a noise that's half way between a whimper and a moan. "…everything about you…so delicious…"

"That's it, my Lord. I'm yours tonight…" You sigh, mind in bliss as your hands find his cocks. He bucks his hips when you begin to stroke him - slowly, before building to a steady pace. His cocks were thick and fat, heavy and veiny and monstrously beautiful in all the ways that had you nervous to take him. They throbbed eagerly, dare you say even aching for your touch. Bowing down, you take one of his tips into your mouth, careful not to let your teeth get in the way. The way his tip had pulsed and the amount of arousal you had to swallow down, had you moaning and whining happily as you swallowed his cock. Amidst the low growling of his stomach mouth, you hear a noise that's halfway between a whimper and a moan, and feel him buck his hips into your mouth as you lick and suck on him eagerly - tongue, lips and hands feverishly worshipping Sukuna's heavy, monstrous lengths.

The tongue begins to enter you, and you nearly cum on the spot - nearly choking on his cock. Slowly, it reaches deep, deep enough to hit that spot that has you seeing stars - forming a light bulge on your stomach with how big it is. When you continue to moan, Sukuna's hips move on their own - tip fucking your mouth while you drool and stroke him.

You both get lost in pleasure. His large tongue tastes and moves eagerly inside you, practically assaulting that sweet spot as the stomach mouth continues to growl and whine and drool; while you eagerly suck on and stroke his twitching and throbbing lengths. A guttural moan escapes Sukuna's throat when he releases into your greedy mouth, and you do your best to swallow everything he has to offer while his other cock paints you in white. Drool, precum and his seed still leak out your mouth, though - and you quickly find it's too much.

Before you can stop yourself, your cunt clamps down on the large tongue inside you and your body goes tense as you reach your own orgasm. Fluids leak out of your greedy cunt as you squirt on his tongue, which continues to move inside of you well past your high.

His tip leaves your mouth with a sloppy and wet pop and with a groan, the large tongue takes one final lick at your overstimulated insides before it retracts back. You both are breathing heavy, shaking a little as he repositions you onto his lap. His hand caresses your face, eyes completely dilated as he makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a sigh. "Oooh, gods, look at you…"

"My Lord, I-" Your eyes widen a little as you struggle a little in his grasp. "Wait-"

"Have you forgotten who you answer to?" He clicks his tongue. "You are in no position to make demands of me."

"I…answer to you, my Lord." You still, realizing what he was asking you. "I'm sorry."

When you look away bashfully, there's a small silence.

There's a small silence as you look away bashfully. However, when you glance back at him and are met with a frown - there was the sudden realization of an unsaid question waiting to be answered. He hasn't moved at all. Immediately, you explain yourself, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. "I-I'm still a bit sensitive, is all…but I-I still want this! Truly, my Lord! I-I want…I want you, still."

Your voice comes out a little higher than you would have liked, but it seemed to quell him nonetheless.

"As am I, but…" He sighs and before he looks away, you capture his lips in a chaste but wet kiss.

"I know." You bite your lip bashfully and your voice comes out soft and sweet in all the ways that make his cocks twitch. "But, I did promise to worship my Lord tonight. I shouldn't make a promise I can't keep."

When your hands begin to stroke him again, slow and gentle, Sukuna practically throws his head back, biting back a low whimper while his stomach mouth shamelessly groaned and panted. He cursed as his hips began to move on their own, muscles tensing as his cocks grew hard again. Yet when your eyes lock he only sees adoration and longing in them as your hands worshipped him diligently. Not the empty lust he saw in everyone else who wanted him this way but could never get close.

"You look incredible like this, my Lord." Your voice comes out raspy and full of longing, and it tears a near animalistic sound from him.

"Enough." He growls, and you immediately stop. "Let me inside you."

"Anything for you." A mix of arousal, anxiousness and excitement overwhelms you as you climb on top of him, positioning yourself so his bottom cockhead kisses the entrance to your cunt. The both of you share a guttural groan as you sink down on one of his cocks, the free one throbbing delightfully in front of your cunt. Sukuna was massive, to say the least, and despite how dripping wet you both were your legs were still shaking from the wonderful strain. Although your sopping, velvety insides took him in eagerly while being stretched to their limit. The initial pain of the stretch was nearly drowned out by how wonderful he felt inside of you - fat and veiny cock completely filling you, dragging deliciously along your insides. You could feel him his arousal leak inside you, and his length pulsing like a second heartbeat. And when you fully sheathed him inside of you, you both almost lose the ability to think properly.

"S-Sukuna, my Lord…" You'd be embarassed by how shameless you sounded with your Lord now fully inside you, his fat mushroom head threatening to breach the entrance to your cervix and spurting his precum on it. His hands rested on your hips, keeping your bodies joined with a messy puddle of arousal underneath you both. Sukuna's eyes were rolled back and fluttering slightly while his stomach mouth was open with his massive tongue lolled out, making a noise somewhere between a low growl and a whimper. Seeing him like this nearly sent you off the edge.

"O-ooh, gods…" He groans when he feels you clamp down on him, and a hand pulls your head into a clumsy kiss. You feel his breath turn into full on panting when he tasted himself on you, the hands on your hips now painfully digging into your skin as he begins to thrust up into you - sloppy, slow and languid, as if trying to get even deeper than he could. Your free hands, once caressing the wooden part of his face, now move down to stroke his free cock - earning you a low growling from the stomach mouth as it started panting.

"Oh, you feel heavenly, Lord Sukuna…" As if encouraged by your words, his thrusts start to get faster, harder - a steady rhythm beginning to build. "That's it. You're doing so well, my Lord."

"Ngh, ah…" Oh, how your Lord made such sweet sounds.

Neither of you were going to last long, it was all too much.

The pain had long subsided, replaced only with ecstacy. Sukuna's fat and heavy cock dragged along every part of your insides, and the feeling of the warm arousal dripping from his tip and the throbbing of his veiny length had you near screaming into his mouth. Your Lord was completely filling you and leaving no part of you unloved. While your wet and sloppy cunt desperately sucked him in every time you and him moved, only to be rewarded as he thrusted back in and you bounced back down on him, wet velvety insides squeezing him tightly as if never wanting him to leave. Without you even realizing it, your body was unconsciously and sweetly worshipping and loving your god. "A-ah, I love you, my Lord!"

Something in Sukuna snaps upon hearing those words, which were otherwise empty - had it come from someone else.

"Let me taste you." He practically whimpers into your mouth as you both pant and continue to knot tongues. The kiss is clumsy, inexperienced, but you were far too lost in love to care - exploring your Lord's mouth eagerly while you struggle to ride his beautiful, monstrous form. The tongues on his mouths sucking, biting and tasting your skin; marking every bit of your body they could. This would hurt, but you didn't care. You only wanted to show your god how much you loved him. "And I want you to accept me, too..."

"Yes, my Lord. Anything-" This would hurt, but you didn't care - only wanting to show your god how much you loved him. "Anything you wish of me…"

With the flick of his wrist, there's a sharp pain on your tongue and a metallic taste floods both of your mouths - there's not enough damage to fully cut off your tongue, however, only a cut.

"Swallow me." Sukuna's breath hitches as he continues to kiss you, letting out a noise between a growl and a whimper, and you realize that it wasn't only your blood in both of your mouths. An offering of a devotee to their god, and a god to their devotee. You eagerly swallow each other's blood, moaning as you share the messy, bloody kiss.

His thrusts get faster and harder, his cock twitching and your cunt spasming. What was once a steady rhythm has now turned sloppy as you both rode each other into your high. Sukuna reaches his orgasm with a choked sob, and you reach yours with a scream - bodies tensing as you both get lost in each other and neither of you stop moving. His warm and thick seed floods your insides, far too copious and spilling over as he paints your womb white. Your cunt spasms and clamps down on him, almost painfully milking and sucking him in, desperately trying and failing to keep his overflowing love inside.

It feels like forever, but you eventually collapse on top of him - both of you too tired to pull out. Your minds were completely muddled, bodies shaky with the high and tranquility of post-orgasm. There was nothing but the sound of your breathing for a while, before he silently cups your face and you feel the sting on your tongue disappear. With shaky hands, you touch your tongue and find the cut was healed.

"Thank you for sharing your blood with me, my Lord." You bury your face in the crook of his neck. "If I may, might I stay the night?"

"You'll be staying here every night, from now on." Without realizing it, his lips reach your forehead. "And for the rest of eternity, you will never leave my side."

"Yes, my Lord. I swear it." It was one simple, powerful vow that had you staying by his side for the rest of your life…

And made you return to him, in every life after.

-----

My GAAAHD was this difficult to write. Not the actual writing part itself, oh NO. But finding the time for writing. YEEESH. Anyways, have a great day!

.

Taglist:

[afewproblems]

I want Steve to find out about the simultaneous games that happened at the beginning of season 4.

That Eddie insisted that the hellfire session went on as scheduled, despite the fact that Lucas wouldn't be able to make it.

Lucas, one of Steve's kids, who Steve had defended from being beaten up, putting himself in the line of fire from that racist asshole Billy Hargrove.

Lucas, who had been pushed aside and alienated from his longtime friends just because he also liked sports and wanted to try and remain afloat in the ocean of high school.

Lucas, who loved his friends and and enjoyed different things, because spoiler alert you can in fact be a jock and like Dungeons and Beasts or whatever the hell it was called. Steve enjoyed Star Wars and could dunk, proof right there.

But all it took was one word from Eddie, and Dustin and Mike not only didn't go to Lucas's game, but they couldn't even be happy for him about the championship AND their final session of their long-term campaign went on as scheduled despite the absence of the oldest Sinclair.

Sure Jason Carver turned out to be a crazy asshole but Steve knew exactly how it felt to be caught between worlds and the biggest difference was that Lucas had always been a good person.

Unlike him.

One nice thing about his King Steve days was that he knew how to push, and he could turn it on for a day, just to knock some sense into a certain curly haired metal head.

"Hang back a sec man," Steve says almost casually as they exit Eddie's van after pulling into the movie theater. The kids tumble out of the open doors and race towards the building, pushing each other in their hurry to get in line for the second running of Highlander.

"What's up Stevie?" Eddie says, his dimpled grin comes out in full force as he looks Steve up and down, leaning back again the front of the vehicle grill. His arms cross loosely over his Black Sabath shirt and the various rings and chains sparkle in the high afternoon sun. He looks great today.

Focus Steve.

He clears his throat and sighs, trying to get into the heads pace from earlier when he initially found out what happened from Dustin. He had been absolutely furious.

But the flame of righteous fury had dissipated, leaving behind a cold feeling of disappointment in Eddie. It hung heavy and immovable in his chest, he needed to talk to him.

"Hey uh, I heard about the championship game man, Lucas's game".

Eddie tilts his head slightly, his brown doe eyes scanning Steve's face with confusion.

"What the basketball game back in March? That was like six months ago man? What about it?"

"Did you ever apologize to Lucas?" Steve asks, he keeps his face neutral, not wanting to influence the answer as Eddie scoffs. Not a great sign.

"For what Harrington?" And that stings a little, he'd been Stevie for the last two months or so, sometimes a Honey or Sweetheart thrown into the mix and Steve felt that they were barreling their way towards something new.

Steve swallows, he can't let this go, not even for Eddie.

"It was a shit thing to do man, to not let Lucas play and to not let Dustin and Mike go to support him--"

"Those kids know that the campaign comes first, that's the first tenant of Hellfire and they know that going in!" Eddie snarls, he steps forward towards Steve who holds his ground with narrowed eyes.

Fine.

"I thought you were above that sort of thing Munson, judging people for the things they like? Assuming things about a person and writing them off".

Eddie stops, his face paling slightly, his angry expression flickers once but remains in place as he crosses his arms again.

"Those games can't be rescheduled man," Steve continues with a shake of his head, "it's not even the school that decides the schedule for the season, it's the districts and the coaches, and who fucking cares if he was on the bench for most of the season? Because he played! And none of you were there".

Steve sighs and runs a tired hand over his face, "Not even his friends who he has known since pre-school. And with Will gone and Max dealing with all that shift from Starcourt and Vecna it was just the three of them, and you took that from him man".

Eddie stares at him, he says nothing, he doesn't even look like he's breathing right now and Steve feels like shit.

"I'm just saying, if you do that again, to any of them, to my kids," Steve says matter of factly, "then we'll have a problem".

"That supposed to be a threat, King Steve?" Eddie sneers at him, but his shoulders are dropping, and there is no true heat behind the words.

Steve shakes his head as Mike pops out of the double doors of the entrance and yells at the pair of them to, shit or get off the pot because what hell is taking them so long?

"No Eddie, it's not a threat because I'm hoping that you'll do the right thing. Because I know you love those kids and you're not an asshole".

He turns on his heel and heads towards the doors, leaving Eddie with the empty van. His heart thumps wildly in his chest, and the cold feeling in his chest spreads and spreads as he goes over the conversation again and again.

It stings a little to know that he's ruined whatever he had with Eddie but he couldn't let this go, friends don't lie after all.

He grabs their tickets, still buying one for Eddie --just in case, though the other man has not entered the building.

Steve tamps down the tight feeling of disappointment that grows the longer Eddie remains outside. If Eddie takes off, leaving them there, Steve can cover, he'll get Nancy to pick them up or maybe Jonathan --they're on better footing these days. He'll say Eddie had some kind of emergency come up, that Wayne needed him for something.

Yeah, friends didn't lie, but how could he break the kids' hearts like this?

They thankfully don't seem to pick up on this as they chatter about Sean Connery and what flavor of soda to get.

"Oh there you are dude! We thought you got kidnapped!" Dustin suddenly crows beside Steve, he turns to see Eddie behind him, a strange expression on his face.

Oh thank God.

"Nah, just had a quick smoke before the movie man, uh actually I wanted to borrow Lucas for a sec if that's cool?"

The kids look from Eddie to Steve, as though to check if he knows what's going on, Eddie hasn't been this shifty since March when Chrissy's death hit the news.

Steve nudges Lucas by the shoulder, leaning slightly down to say, "I'll grab your snacks, go on".

Lucas gives him a confused look over his shoulder before following Eddie outside the entrance  the doors swing closed just as Dustin whirls on Steve.

"What the hell was that!" He demands with crossed arms and a scowl on his face, his blue eyes scanning Steve's own for something, some information about what is going on outside.

"Yeah, you guys are being weird," Mike snarks from over his shoulder, he's standing with Will and El who watch the interaction with curious eyes, "first you take forever to come in and now this?"

And so much for the kids not picking up on it.

"You guys are pretty nosy," Steve hums, deflecting with a small smile as he ruffles Dustin's curls and steps forward with the rest of the line.

Dustin glares with narrowed eyes and huffs, "Fine, I'll just ask Lucas about it".

Steve snorts, he isn't sure if the kids have even talked about it. They've all been friends long enough now that this one event wouldn't be enough to hurt this kind of friendship. But it's certainly been on Dustin's mind since he was the one to bring it up to Steve that morning.

"Good idea," Steve says with a smile as he steps up the the counter, he looks at the kids before smiling at the clerk, "okay what's everyone having, let her know".

***

The lights have dimmed and the pre-show has started by the time Eddie and Lucas make their way over to the seats Steve and the kids have saved. Steve hands Lucas his popcorn and soda, sprite and orange crush mixed, as he makes his way over to the empty seat beside Dustin. There is a wide smile on his face, and it startles Steve slightly as he realizes he hasn't seen Lucas with one around Eddie in months.

His heart hurts at the thought.

Eddie drops down beside Steve, blowing out a long slow sigh as he does.

He scrubs a pair of ringed hands over his face roughly before finally relaxing into the shitty theater seat and reaching over to snag a handful of popcorn from Steve's bag, spilling kernels all over the place. 

Steve rolls his eyes and tips the bag closer to Eddie who immediately grabs a second handful.

Eddie is facing the screen, but his eyes are trained on the seat in front of him, the projection illuminates his face in whites, yellows, greens, and blues as the movie begins and Steve can't look away.

He eventually tips his face towards Steve, "You were right," Eddie murmurs before finally taking in the screen as he looks away again. Even though he's sitting nearly boneless and slumped in the seat, his shoulders are tense, upset. 

Guilty.

"I'm glad," Steve whispers, and he is.

The icy feeling of disappointment that held his chest in a tight vice grip all morning finally loosens as he leans into the armrest and feels the warmth of Eddie's shoulder soak into his own.

"Thanks Steve," Eddie whispers, his warm breath ghosting over Steve's ear as leans closer, letting their hands brush in the darkness of the theater.

Steve closes his eyes, and lets himself bask in the warmth, even for just a moment.

[ctheathy]

Survival instinct didn’t make the cut

Yandere Ticci Toby x Reader

Angst oneshot

Imagine making your first Tumblr post and it’s this. But I swear, this scenario has been living rent free in my head for the past months-

I believe it turned out quite alright though, hope whoever comes across shall be able to enjoy it themselves too =} Goodluck, darling~

Ticci Toby/Reader

⚠️Warnings ⚠️ :

•Toby lmao. •Yanderes •Reader’s demise •Obsessive behaviour • Abuse in all varieties •Implied non-con // r#pe •Indirect su!c!de •Slight detail of gore // blood •Derealization ?? •Tobitch going through the five stages of grief

Angst time babiee

____________________________________________

Now he’s done it.

Before you is where he stood, body trembling as the smell of bitter iron was dancing alongside his nostrils, mocking him.

His throat was aching, easily confirming the assumption that he had in fact been screaming at you. He hadn't expected this, but he should have.

He should have realised his self-restraint was reaching it’s limits.

He had lost count of the amount of speeches he had prematurely given you in warning over the course of just six months, the amount of punishments he’d given you in an attempt to put you in your place, his already thin patience having decreased into absolutely nothing. Why the fuck couldn’t you just be all ears and listen to anything for once in a lifetime?

You never listened.

It seemed like not too long ago he would have once again had your fragile figure cornered in an obvious out of control burst of rage. Figuring he had the absolute opposite of innocent intent, as he has done many, many times before in his quote on quote “regular” state alone. Yet the now deafening silence was haunting to Toby. You never enjoyed crying when he was in the same area as you were, he knew this, but some whimpers here and there did always manage to slither it’s way out of your throat. Especially when battered like this, you’re not supposed to be this quiet.

Conversations were rare, but it surely wasn’t like they weren’t there at all, despite how minor they might have been. He’d recall you flat-out ignoring his entire existence for a long time before that, and when you did reply to a sentence or two; your answers were always kept as short as possible, too short. Cold, even.

You and your blunt statements.

It angered him, following with Toby developing a habit of literally demanding your attention and cooperation, which surely wouldn’t be considered all that bad by a majority of people,

if it didn't include inflicting damage if a hint of resistance was even shown, that is.

Neck twitching severely with his eyes scanning over your once gorgeous form; one he wished to have held onto for the absolute rest of eternity, now beaten into a bloody pulp. Truthfully saying, your state had already been quite the wreck from these so-called “punishments” you had endured from him formerly, but they were nothing in comparison to whatever the hell he did to you this time. Your body structure wasn’t even recognisable to the bare eye anymore. The only thing left confirming your identity being your facial features, those you had instinctively tried shielding with your arms; arms who were now bend in uncomfortable positions, whose bones were now much so similar to your ribcage as they were clearly showing, sharp tips that had been broken off of the full bone structure poking out of the bloodied flesh.

You seemed to have gotten on his nerves once more, didn’t you? Who were you even kidding, you were always at fault from his point of view. You swore it had gotten to a stage where he just reached out for whatever excuse he could get his grabby hands on to cause harm upon you. His frustration streaks being no help in the matter, whatsoever.

That being said, this too included suffering the most whenever his torturous desires came over to front within his own mind, lashing out and resulting in unimaginable that when given too much detail would probably get me banned discipline instances in itself. He was trying to tame you into being some compliant little lap dog,

the perfect significant other.

And you? You were absolutely not having it.

You were very well aware of the fact that you, too, weren’t exactly the easiest when being in his presence either. Seemingly almost intentionally setting him off, having caused many broken limbs, bruises in all colours of the rainbow, deep wounds and screaming matches that could have easily been prevented otherwise. You just could not help it, the thought alone of being obedient to this- this monster made you sick to the stomach. The strict mental promise you made to yourself literally keeping you sane from his either constant cruelty or unwanted affection.

It was no surprise to say that he just went along with everything he desired as well, not caring about the clear signs of major discomfort your own figure had been showing Every. Single. Time.

Well.

He simply continued to take, greedily getting some sort of emotionally high on all that you'd indirectly have the possibility of giving him. Your blood, tears, cries, whatever sound he managed to get out of you, your body; he wanted all of it, the most suffocating part being that he wouldn’t ever hesitate to be selfish when it came to his wants, his needs. You could yell, squirm and resist all you wanted ...but deep down you knew attempting to resist his lustful urges would be futile. You knew he would continue to take until you were nothing short of an empty husk.

That was the case, atleast.

Until there was nothing left to take from you. His wrath didn’t hurt you anymore, it couldn’t.

Toby swore he could have felt the last bit of basic common sense alongside the last pinch of emotional stability left inside of him fading right then and there. Slipping from his grasp as he was clutching together excuses to desperately try and get himself somewhat in the clear, to not have the realisation of his actions setting in.

No. He wouldn't be able to handle it

This wasn’t his doing. No- nonono he has always told himself he had everything under control. It COULDN’T possibly be his own doing.

He’d never meant to ...

Yet despite these protests profusely swirling around in his head, slowly having it drag itself more into insanity, the axe was right there. Clutched in his own shaky hands with the oh-so-familiar dark red substance dripping from them. In fact, his own entire being was soaked in blood from head to toe. Creating a dried up pattern on the fabric he was wearing.

Was it his own?

Despite the constant weak state you managed to be in, how low in power you were compared to him; you never failed to catch him by surprise when still managing to put up the slightest bit of a fight, often even shedding blood yourself, his blood. Even as time passed, you should have clearly gotten the hint by now that struggling against your capturer, your abuser, did absolutely nothing for the both of you.

It caused you yet more and more harm. But much to Toby’s irritation, you never gained the desire to lower this stubborn behaviour of yours. Continuously keeping up your nagging nature, almost like you were trying to make him snap with no questions asked in the matter. Your motives were foreign to him, even questioning himself if you even had any to begin with. Heck, everything you once seemed to hold a liking torwards was either destroyed to bits, crumbled on the streets for the passersby to find or dead;

So, why?? Was tormenting him truly that important to you?

Muttering nonsense to himself and still being as shaky as ever, Toby dragged his now numb legs across the floor in a sad attempt to get the situation in hand, to get closer to you.

Still, a part of him couldn’t help but feel hesitant, his racing mind still not seeming to have left the state of shock he’s been in for the past hours. He was very much aware by now that your life had been taken this night. Taken in a brutal act of fury.

You weren't there anymore.

the axe slid right onto the cold floor, the metal leaving a clunk sound that echoed clamorously along the room as his body now realised how heavy the pressure on his arms had actually been.

Weakly he started counting down the reasons on how and most importantly, why this could have happened in the first place. He knew how massively petty you could be at times, but this was FAR from the wishes of his main desires.

This should never have happened.

He loved you.

It shouldn’t have.

He loved you. Helovedyouhelovedyouhelovedyouheneededyo---

He completely set his current thoughts to a stop for a good minute at that one. Needing you.

What did that even mean?

He knew he held you in massively high priority, he adored you even, but. Even that sentence in itself caught him off guard. His head had been over flooding for sure, it all just felt void-like, not real.

All he was left with now were his own heartbeats growing their ways into his ears as the organ was struggling to keep itself at bay, the strange yet all too familiar hollowness he felt in the deepest pits of his stomach and the liquid that has unconsciously been falling from his now blurry eyes.

He bit his cheek until blood was drawn from them, fighting back a choked sob as he crouched down to the bloody mess in front of him. Gently stroking your cheek with his knuckles, he flinched at how cold it actually was. The sensation of suffocation in his throat having reduplicated itself in a way he doesn't wish to remind himself of, clenching his jaws at how difficult it had become to keep in his whimpering. But enough of his tears were being shed for sure. And to make matters worse, the usual lack of emotion burned into your expression you’ve had ever since he’s been holding you hostage was now gone.

Instead, the frown Toby had been forced to grow used to was now formed into a soft smile instead. It was small, but unquestionably there. You were safe now, making peace with the outcome that had been created for your life. The outcome created by the absolute greed of another.

The outcome he had made for you.

This realisation he had tried to deny so damn badly had finally hit him, hard.

He quit fighting, the walls he created as a defence mechanism crumbling completely. Giving in as the overwhelming emotions that had been building up finally came to a releasing end. His usual mockery demeanor had been thrown out of the window once and for all, as all he managed to shriek out now were rushed apologies while just pleading for your living form. Just begging to hear your breathing for one last time. You seemed so small. Had you always been like this?

Please come back... please...

Hands were clinging onto the little bits of what was left of your body like his life depended on it. Big chunks of flesh were hanging from the body parts of your figure, laying limp against his own with his weak grip being yet as needy as ever, tears streaming out like a waterfall and unsteady breaths forcing their ways out into the crook of your neck. He had nothing to say anymore, the room instead being filled with high-pitched sobbing and convulsive gasps coming from nobody but himself.

God, he could have heard you call him pathetic right on the spot.

And that thought of you alone was enough to force a muffled screech out of him as his grasp grew only stronger, his veins being filled with nothing but desperation and grief; The constant loop he was in, slowly but actively breaking him down entirely. Your faint words out of memory repeating themselves over and over again.

And that smile.

That damned smile of yours being left to haunt the back of his mind.

Oh how that little motivation of yours had become clear to him now . . .

[certifiedspreadsheetlover]

Happy Pride from Kristofferson and the boys!

Okay so

BG3 has actually done a lot for me as a queer person. Something about the near endless possibilities of who you can be and who you can love- it just really helped me. I quite literally spent my whole life feeling like I was wrong, confused, or just plain hopeless. Over a decade ago I began to wonder why I didn't like the experience of girlhood, or why the way I loved boys was so different than how my gal pals loved boys. I always wondered "Why can't I be a boy AND kiss boys?" in the majority of video games that I had the opportunity to play. When I played a boy in a game, I wasn't thrilled at only being able to romance girls. When I romanced boys, I wasn't thrilled that I had to be playing a girl to do it. I first played BG3 when my husband (fiancé at the time) called me over and said "Hey look, you can choose their dicknballs!" while in character creator. So I decided to fuck around and play with the character creator, but then I wanted to actually play the game. So I bought it for myself.

My first Tav was a barbarian named Opus. When I made him, my thought process was "Hehe big strong man." As I played the game, I really felt like I was living through Opus. Despite the fact your dialogue is kinda limited, I felt like Opus was ME. I wanted to be him. I lived vicariously through him. I literally stayed up at night thinking "Damn, I wish I was him."

Months pass by, I've beaten the game many times. I have almost 2K hours. (stay at home wife vibes) I'm playing as my newest and most treasured boy Kristofferson. And I cried. I cried for hours. I asked my husband "Why can't I be like the men I create for my stupid little game where I kiss dudes and fight dragons?" To which my husband said,

"You can."

And I finally realized that they were right. I can. I had been pushing my feelings down for years, thinking it's just passing thoughts or- cringe as it may sound- thinking it was "just a phase." Who knew that a video game where you smooch wizards and fight dragons would be an important part of this journey for me? (Not to mention just how much it has helped me as a traumatized individual, but that's a tangent for another day) Quite literally this game was able to help me self reflect, decide what I want for my life, figure out who I am, and who I am- is a gay ass dude named Sheet.

Happy Pride Everybody.

[pttucker]

Despite the words, the eyes of the Breaking the Sky Sword Saint were still very mild. Then the terrible man's voice was heard. "So he is the one who beat you up?" Something the size of a frog was hanging upside down from the ceiling opposite the Breaking the Sky Sword Saint. It was Kyrgios Rodgraim. "Master." "Tell me. Is it this guy?" I was reminded of the nonsense I spoke to send Kyrgios to Murim. I was beat up by the Breaking the Sky Sword Saint's disciple. Kyrgios' handsome eyebrows curved and the aura of Electrification appeared around his entire body. "Was it all a lie?" I gulped and opened my mouth. "It wasn't completely a lie! In fact, I'm not on good terms with this guy. I was actually beaten up…" "You were just beaten up?" "Of course, I hit back…" It was a loophole in the system but I didn't lie because I had beaten up Yoo Joonghyuk in the Absolute Throne battle.

Dokja you are soooo lucky you don't have the master who goes around spanking people. Because you would definitely be getting spanked right about now.

"Oh yeah we definitely fought several months ago."

I do love Kyrgios' immediate attitude all "is this the punk who beat up my student?" It's kinda sweet. In a terrifying, grumpy sort of way. At least for all of about three seconds until he realizes Dokja was completely bullshitting him. 😂 What has this poor man ever done to deserve a student like Kim Dokja?

Oh man but I do love Kyrgios & Breaking the Sky Sword Saint's little ex-lovers spat over which of their disciples is better.

Be careful Dokja. If Kyrgios finds out that you hid in the grass until Joonghyuk came to rescue you like some sort of damsel in distress waiting for her knight in shining armor he will absolutely drag you back to Peace Land so that you can learn Electrification properly.

[victoriousscarf]

Hi. These numbers from the End of the Year asks, please? ^^

1. Song of the year?

9. Best month for you this year?

10. Something that made you cry this year?

11. Something you want to do again next year?

14. Favorite book you read this year?

15. What’s a bad habit you picked up this year?

18. A memorable meal this year?

19. What’re you excited about for next year?

21. What’s something new about your place of residence (room, home, or general location) now vs the start of the year?

22. Favorite place you visited this year?

23. If you could send a message to yourself back on the first day of the year, what would it be?

Blood on the Snow by Hozier probably.

9. .... uh... October?

10. Our train got canceled the night before it was supposed to leave and my parents were flying out the next day so we sorta like, needed to get back. After a bit of a stress cry we got it together though and figured out a solution on the fly in true "what is travel without some shenanigans?" style.

11. Train travel (despite the answer above lol). I've always liked trains and I need to take more advantage of the fact I now live in like one of the few places in the USA that actually has decent trains.

14. The Quiet Americans: Four CIA Spies at the Dawn of the Cold War--A Tragedy in Three Acts by Scott Anderson and It was a Long Time Ago, and It Never Happened Anyway: Russia and the Communist Past by David Satter

15. Swearing at work and revealing how okay I am with other people swearing around me. It's not the worst workplace to have this problem, but I need to like rebuild my filter for the higher ups.

18. I went to Thanksgiving at the house of my friend from high school who I hadn't seen since high school (turns out we live less than an hour away from each other now). She even married her high school boyfriend which just... still blows my mind. But it was great to reconnect since I usually don't even do anything for Thanksgiving.

I also got to share a meal for the first time with @boredcomiccollector86 because they were like you do not get to come to my town and not do something. The food wasn't that great, but the night was.

19. Not being in this year anymore? Hopefully I can do some more fun travel, this year was pretty travel low until the very end.

... Literally just remembered I am planning a trip and one of my friends is coming to visit me later this year. So yeah. That will be good. We will once again be able to tell everyone when they ask how we met "Oh I made her cry on the internet for the last decade."

21. I had to get new/more yarn storage.

22. I really liked the Renwick Gallery in Washington DC. A bit more off the beaten tourist path for the city but it's got that great mix of classic architecture and modern craft art that makes me go feral.

23. You are going to be VERY fucking stressed medically speaking. And that's okay because there is actually something wrong and you do need to get to the bottom of it, but also deep breaths because it's going to be something that can be dealt with. Embrace the shredder fic you're about to write to deal with this.

[nananarc]

Alright so I know I'm a month late to this Art Summary thing, but I'm Vietnamese, and we don't consider the year to end until Lunar New Year (which in here we call Tết holiday). And today, is in fact, the true last day of 2022.

The pic in January feels like years ago actually. I felt like I'm a completely different person compared to back then, both in art and in life. As in, a more skilled and mature person (i hope?), but also beaten up and without all the high hopes and energy that I used to have. I guess it's a funny coincidence that I ended the year with that artwork depicting that particular scene in Truyện Kiều (The Tales of Kieu). She's beautiful, singing songs and citing poems, but in a whorehouse, trapped and melancholic. Well, I can't compare my life to hers. But I'm at that stage of life where it might seem like everything is doing ok but the ground under my feet is rumbling and cracking but no one else can see it.

I feel like "I have been getting it wrong, Father", quote Fleabag, and that probably reflected in my art a bit. At this point I'm just living for that momentary trance / manic / whatever you wanna call it that art is capable of sometimes putting you in.

I might sound all sad and shit and, well yes I am crying and basically a pink fur ball of anxiety as I write this, but I will be relatively fine. So, in order to remind myself of all the good shits that happened despite it all, I'll put a list of them under the cut. Mindful and all that shit, yeah?

No expectation or wish for the next year for me.

But Happy Lunar New Year, everyone! :)

Go by exclusively they/them now and even though I'm still navigating through this identity, I felt gender euphoria when, in eng speaking space, people start to refer to me with the right pronoun.

I still don't make much money, with only 1-2 commissions/month, and most months without any order. But all of my clients were such good people (well except for one, bitch turns out to be crazy as shit but not to me lmao, she was still fulfilling her end of the bargain), they are also good friends, and I love them dearly. They all gave me so much support and care through everything.

I tried edibles, ate a bit too much, was tripping balls so hard I had a disco dance game in my head but with 90s graphics and the characters are all of my worst anxieties. Also had that glitchy, time skipping, reality bending experience. It was all very fucking awesome. Not gonna do that again tho lmao.

Visited the MOCA in Bangkok and reignites the love I have for art.

Realized I am asexual and it was extremely freeing. I thought lewd thoughts more than I have ever been because of that ahahaha XD

Start to embrace the fact that I'm probably neurodivergent.

Got really good at making mods of the Cyberpunk 2077 game and I'm really proud of my works.

Finally got to treat one of the health problems that have been plaguing me for years.

Had some really fun hangout with my dear friend over a drink at small, low-key pubs. She used to refuse to even touch a drop of alcohol because all her experiences with it left too at an impression. Now she drinks for me if I can't finish my cocktail.

I bought 2 traditional dresses and I love them dearly.

Busted a bitch's fake ass for stealing art. That was fun because no one even realized the extend to how shameless that shithead was. But even then, I still have no hate ask, that is kinda a bummer tho lol.

I talked more to my classmates and even though I still don't really vibe with them that much, I appreciate them more now.

Starred in an indie movie. Wasn't a particularly fun thing the whole time, but it was an experience nevertheless.

Got more daring about my makeups.

[dweemeister]

95th Academy Awards nominations reaction

I got up early this morning, typed some of these just after the nominations came out, and left it sitting in the drafts. Some personal reactions from me about today’s nominees:

Of the ten Best Picture nominees, I have seen five of them. This is the furthest ahead I’ve been at this point in awards season since 2019 (Avatar 2, Banshees, Elvis, EEAAO, Fabelmans). I do have my work cut out for me here. As of right now, I’m pretty much on the EEAAO train, but perhaps not as energetically as I’ve been for other movies in previous years. Partly due to the fact I can understand why people might dislike EEAAO intensely and partly because there are no 9/10 or 10/10 movies for me from 2022. At least from those I’ve seen. Fabelmans my second choice from those I’ve seen.

And now I have to watch two Top Gun movies. I’ve been avoiding the first for a long, long time having heard way too much about it and people saying it’s just not gonna be my thing. We’ll see over the next month.

Whoa. Where did Triangle of Sadness come from with both Picture and Director? That movie was divisive in some parts, and I’ve heard that it felt like an overlong lecture. The directors’ branch gonna directors’ branch, though - they always nominate one director out of left field. And this year, Ruben Östlund was that man.

Say it with me: in the Year of Our Lord, Anno Domini MMXXIII, we take Steven Spielberg and John Williams for granted. I think Spielberg has a shot at Director (and, as of this moment if I was a member of the Academy, I might just vote for him) and John gets his record-extending 53rd nomination (behind Walt Disney’s 59, and most by a living person). John’s count of five total Oscars (having last won 30 years ago) is too low. But the Academy members, I think, I have Oscar winners’ envy. John also becomes the oldest Academy Award nominee ever.

In any case, the other Original Score nominees this year are amelodic electronic background noise. Where is Simon Franglen for Avatar? Alexandre Desplat for Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio?

All Quiet overperformed here, compared to what I expected. I know its haul of 14 BAFTA nominations was ridiculous, but I chalked that up to WWI being more prominent than in the U.S. - where most people don’t think about it much at all. I’ve not seen it, but I must say I have a lot of admiration for the 1930 original that won Best Picture. That All Quiet was the first sound masterpiece at a time when the silent-to-sound transition was still going on. I’m not sure how this one will stack up, having heard about some of the narrative changes they made to it.

Despite what has been widely reported, Michelle Yeoh becomes the second Best Actress nominee of Asian descent since Merle Oberon for The Dark Angel (1935). Oberon had to hide her Indian and Maori heritage due to safety reasons and we didn’t learn about this until after her death.

Also overjoyed to see Nighy, Michelle Williams, Ke Huy Quan, Hong Chau, and Stephanie Hsu all in the mix for acting. Best Actor features five first-time nominees for the first time in 88 years. Also, that’s four actors of Asian descent getting nominations! That’s a record!

Cartoon Saloon finally has the first blemish on their Academy Award nominations record. They were previously nominated for all of their movies - The Secret of Kells (2009), Song of the Sea (2014), The Breadwinner (2017), and Wolfwalkers (2020; which should have beaten Soul). My Father’s Dragon (2022) definitely was their weakest movie yet and, yeah, that didn’t deserve to be here. Hoping to see a return to form for the Kilkenny-based studio. You’ve got to think GdT’s Pinocchio now. No contest. I need to check out The Sea Beast, though.

What happened to RRR? Original Song only? Not a movie I’ve seen because I insist on watching it in the original Telugu, but my sense was that there was a divide in how it was received. In the West, with critics and audiences having very little idea about the nature of Indian cinema and its history, it was something different and refreshing and was well-received. In India, its use of Hindu iconography struck a chord of Modi-esque Hindu nationalism that has muted critical plaudits there. It’s an interesting dynamic, one that I doubt Westerners picked up at all.

I am so excited to see the short films, as always (and I write up on them too, you can see last year’s edition for Animated Short here). Those last two Animated Short nominees though? My Year of Dicks (not people named Richard, afaik) and An Ostrich Told Me the World Is Fake and I Think I Believe It? What titles. Can’t wait! As I understand it, no major American studios were in play for Animated Short at the shortlist stage. So this should be a fun, independent filmmaker-driven slate.

The Batman should have found its way into cinematography.

Never count Diane Warren out for Original Song, no matter how obscure the movie! She’ll, of course, lose - as she unfortunately always does. 14 nominations for Warren. Glad she picked up the Honorary Oscar last year, though.

Lots of clamor about the decision to leave Decision to Leave out in International Feature. But the International Feature branch usually does very funny things, and I don’t think there has been a consensus at all in this category. All Quiet the odds-on favorite due to its significant haul of nominations, however.

Well, this should be a fun month! On this blog, “31 Days of Oscar” - my marathon based on Turner Classic Movies’ (TCM) marathon of the same name featuring only Oscar nominees and Honorary Oscar winners through the 95 years of Oscar history - is coming on March 1st!

[gothicwidowsworld]

I posted 1,059 times in 2022

239 posts created (23%)

820 posts reblogged (77%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@oscar-piastri

@sebaston-vettel

@vettelhive

@springsteens

I tagged 203 of my posts in 2022

#gothicwidow - 86 posts

#f1 - 55 posts

#formula one - 43 posts

#imagines - 30 posts

#gothicwidow asks - 24 posts

#au imagines - 24 posts

#anon asks - 19 posts

#f1 imagines - 17 posts

#mick schumacher - 15 posts

#f1 x reader - 14 posts

Longest Tag: 78 characters

#my coworker tested positive and i spent practically all day with her yesterday

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Luck C.L

Luck didn’t mean a thing to Charles, the Ferrari driver would struggle to contain his urge to roll his eyes if Y/N ever mentioned luck. Charles was a firm believer in making and being responsible for your own luck but even then it would be a push for him to claim it as luck. The Monégasque could count on one hand all the moments where he’d felt truly lucky. When he felt weightless but in the best way possible. Right now wasn’t one of those times, in fact he’d go so far to say he’d be unbelievably lucky if the past couple of hours were wiped from his memory. Perhaps even from existence but luck doesn’t exist so instead he remained awake as he tortured himself replaying every move, every thought, and more importantly every mistake that lead him to P4. Every time he closed his eyes he was reliving the whole race , starting to notice all the bad elements tainting what should have been his moment. His home Grand Prix was always special, it was a race that allowed the two parts of him to embrace. The Racer who loved the speed and smell of burnt rubber and the young boy who’d watched racers with wide eyes in awe. The part of him that everybody knew and the part that only those close to him view. And this year his need for a podium had tripled, this year he’d be able to celebrate his much desired win with Camille. Who despite only being three months old had become the apple of his eye. He’d wanted to make her proud. And he’d failed. 

“Charles?” Y/N whispered tentatively rolling over to face the looming hunched figure of her boyfriend. It was 3 am and the Ferrari Driver looked like he was yet to sleep even a wink. The usual post race mess of brown locks that had been retamed once again looking like they’d gone sixty laps under a helmet. The now roughly jostled strands no doubt made worse as Charles combed through it aggressively. It was a nervous habit he’d picked up years ago, the movements usually calming him and also allowing him to shift through his thoughts but right now it was an absentminded action. 

Flinching slightly at the Y/NA woman’s voice, Charles frowned. Perhaps if he remained still Y/N would fall back asleep and he could continue to chastise himself alone. “What’s wrong Charles?” the Y/H/C young woman murmured, grabbing clumsily at the males pale hand attempting to pull him back into bed. The silence was deafening, it was yet to be uncomfortable but like lighting that could change it a millisecond. The pair were both too nervous to make the next move, one in fear of agitating the other even more and the other in fear of becoming resented. That weightless feeling fell over the Monégasque yet again, but the bad kind, the kind that made you feel like you were being plunged into a dark seemingly bottomless ocean terrifying. The overwhelming urge to fight against the blackened waves shocking him into a stoic stance.  Charles had never felt so disappointed. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry ma chérie” The driver managed to choke out before the tears of frustration he’d been holding back finally escaped. The salty tears almost laughing at him as they made tracks down his tired face.  “I let you down, Jules, Anthoine, my Father… Camille.” Charles whimpered, practically shutting down as he muttered his daughter's name aloud. It was as if by saying the little girl's name aloud he was confirming that he had indeed failed remarkably. The driver had beaten himself up so much about the Grand Prix he hadn’t registered until now how much he’d broken himself. He’d bottled it up, smiled for the cameras, answered reporters' questions, reassured his family he was fine to the point he wanted so badly to believe it himself. 

“You really think Camille would love you any less?” Y/N asked the driver quietly, her delicate movement sluggish in the dark. Sleepily resting her head against the man’s shoulder, the Y/NA woman’s heart couldn’t help but break a little, feeling him recoil in the darkness. “I let her down! Her first home Grand Prix and I didn’t even get a podium…” Charles replied harshly, the rage he’d managed to quash hours earlier returning. He was angry with himself, with his team and the thought of disappointing the one person who meant more to him than anything hurt. Hurt like dull dying embers would still burn if you tried to touch them. “No no you didn’t let her down Charlie.” Y/N insisted, now wide awake tentatively moving closer to the man.  “You could never let her down.” Y/N continued, attempting to comfort the driver as well as she could in the dim light the occasional car or passing light managed to provide. Shaking his head wildly in disagreement Charles repeated his statement quietly, it was practically the anthem to his anxiety at this point. “Look at her hmm, look at her Charles” Y/N spoke slowly, almost as if she was talking to a child. “Does she look disappointed in you?” the Y/H/C whispered delicately brushing the man’s damp hair for a few seconds so he could calm his breathing. Once his breath had become even again Y/N gently guided the driver's gaze to the three month old peacefully sleeping in her crib.  Camille had originally had her own nursery, something the three Leclerc brother’s had lovingly crafted. But upon returning home with the littlest Leclerc Charles had insisted Camille not leave his sight. He’d been so in awe of the young babe that he’d struggled to tear his eyes off her, worrying that if he even blinked she’d grow up. “Does she look disappointed in you?” Y/N questioned the man again. “Because from where I'm sitting she looks anything but disappointed.” 

“She looks peaceful.” Charles mumbled, his voice uneven and broken due his small panic. “Hm and she’ll remain that way for about an hour or so before she’s hungry again. And at that point you’ll wish you’d closed your eyes sooner” Y/N teased the Monégasque shuffling back to settle under the covers yet again but this time holding the pale bedding open inviting the man to take his spot beside her. 

A/N slight continuation of my who’s the baby daddy series i guess but can be read alone. Also Y/NA = your nationality

387 notes - Posted May 30, 2022

#4

Angie M.S

A/N this isn’t great but i haven’t posted anything in AGES bear with me also warning i guess talks of period pain

If Y/N L/N’s scrolled through her phone right now she was a thousand percent sure she’d see stories from her friends and family enjoying their Friday evening. In fact she knew her friend Y/F/N was planning a much needed night out but instead the y/h/c girl was at home. Time was seemingly passing but Y/N couldn’t quite be sure. She’d watched the f1 practices and even managed to catch some of f3 as she came in and out of consciousness. The girl had been feeling under the weather on and off throughout the day, cursing that after months of seeming painless visits from aunt flo that now she could barely move without feeling like she was being stabbed with a red hot poker. Medicine had managed to take the edge off but still.

Taking a bite of her slice of now lukewarm at best pizza Y/N frowned at the interruption of her Friday night plans. Despite having a Mick free weekend the y/h/c young woman was donned in a pair of sweats and an old worn hoodie that had definitely seen better days, an episode of Golden Girls displayed on the tv. If she was being honest Y/N hadn’t really been paying attention to the show, instead using it as background noise. It wasn’t  like the y/h/c girl hated her own company but with her feeling under the weather and lacking human company some noise was better than nothing even if it was three American ladies complaining. “Miss me already Schumacher,'' the y/h/c young woman hummed teasingly, answering the facetime request without hesitation before sluggishly reaching for the remote to mute the show.

 Y/N didn’t have to check the contact name before accepting the request, Mick had a habit of calling her every night they were apart, whether his absence was work based or domestic. The soft German had been bashful at the start of their relationship, scared of coming across as clingy but over time the part had gotten used to each other's so called quirks. “What I can’t miss my girls?” Mick asked innocently feigning a look of horror but the small grin settling on his pale features breaking his joking façade. “Ah girl.” the y/h/c girl corrected, lifting her phone higher to gesture at the sofa currently housing her, her pizza and a blanket. There was a hot water bottle floating around somewhere but that was now long forgotten having lost its comforting heat over the past couple of hours. 

“Where’s Angie” the German Driver asked in confusion, despite the dog originally being Mick’s it didn’t take long for Y/N to adopt Angie as her own furbaby. The German treated Angie like another family member but Y/N treated Angie like she was her life. It was unusual to see the two without each other especially if Mick was away. Angie loved being able to get unlimited cuddles without the blond man interrupting. Tucking her feet underneath her tired form the y/h/c girl frowned, tilting her head slightly as she searched the room. The Australian shepherd was currently curled up on her bed in the corner of the room fast asleep. Clearly so tired she hadn’t heard Mick’s familiar voice flood the room. “Angie?!” Y/N called gently, “Angie dein papa ist hier” the y/h/c young woman continued cooing slightly as the calm dog awoke. Patting the space beside her Y/N smiled softly as the tan dog bounded over seemingly now aware of what was happening. 

“Are you feeling any better Liebling?” Mick asked quietly, changing the conversation, his natural concern rising to the surface. The Haas Driver had been so disappointed that Y/N wasn’t able to go to Barcelona, especially after not having her for Miami but the young couple had agreed it wasn’t fair to travel when she was in such pain. The y/h/c young woman had unfortunately been unwell in the past couple of days and the combination of mind numbing pain and the general washed out feeling led her to staying home. It was nobody’s fault, nobody was to blame but Mick couldn’t help but be upset. “Mick I’m fine honestly.” the y/h/c young girl insisted, shooting the German Driver a reassuring smile. Capturing the girl’s y/e/c orbs the German narrowed his eyes suspiciously, his welcoming blue orbs scanning the phone screen for any possible sign that she was lying. “Mick, I promise I’m ok! I have Angie, I have Pizza and if I really need it I have pain relief.” Y/N stated calmly absentmindedly reaching for the dog in question. Angie had now settled beside the girl and had nodded off. “Well I mean if you have pizza you must be fine.” Mick exclaimed in mock exasperation choosing to ignore the mention of medication. “I’m not sure I like that tone Schumacher…I’m not sure Corinna would either.” 

“You wouldn’t snitch on me to my Mum. You love me too much.” Mick replied confidently. “Oh wouldn’t I?” Y/N replied plainly with a shrug of her shoulders. 

387 notes - Posted May 20, 2022

#3

Caught M.S

“Hey” Mick mumbled a red blush coating his pale cheeks as he shut the door seconds before the girl descended on him. Checking over him with eagle-like precision. Her hold was tender but thorough, almost like the girl was scared of hurting him. Inspecting the German gently the y/h/c young woman sighed in relief. Y/N wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting, perhaps at least some bruises, the young woman’s heart had been in her mouth, the suffocating lump only growing at the lack of footage. But Mick seemed fine, in fact that’s what he’d been claiming all morning as journalists pounced on the Blond Driver.

“I’m so glad you’re ok” Y/N mumbled self-consciously, burrowing her face into the lightly laughing man’s shoulder. Mick wasn’t the cause of her sudden shyness, the German could never make the y/h/c girl uncomfortable, it was more the fact that she didn’t want to be caught cuddling with the driver. Despite the fact their relationship had been blossoming since last season the pair were yet to inform anybody of their intimate connection. So instead their relationship at least during the race season became a collage of secretive moments in hidden rooms when they could get even a moment of privacy. 

Capturing Y/N’s sparkling eyes with his blue orbs Mick couldn’t help but frown, in spite of her warm hold and soft spoken words he could see her anxiety rising again. The previous night had really shaken the young woman. The idea of her watching the painfully familiar Haas spin and violently glide against the barrier was horrific. Guilt ate away at the Driver, the accident obviously wasn’t planned. The crash itself hadn’t been bad, in fact it was a pretty contained crash despite what the debris tried to suggest. But due to their hidden relationship Y/N hadn’t been able to go to the hospital with him, the closest she got to reassurance was the fact the waiting garage had been informed that Mick had been found conscious, in one piece and able to talk to the medical team. “It’s going to take more than that to take me out.” Mick joked stroking the y/h girl’s cheek reassuringly. “Don’t even joke about that Schumacher!” Y/N groaned, managing to poke an accusatory finger in the man’s direction. “Es tut mir leid meine liebe.” Mick replied, his tone was apologetic but accompanied by a dash of sarcasm. Jutting out his bottom lip, the blonde pouted slightly as the y/h/c young woman shot him a faux glare. “Y/N/N I am sorry” the German driver whined pitifully, before dipping down with lighting like movement to capture the girl’s lips in a quick kiss. Mick couldn’t help the dopey smile that found a home on his pale features as he felt the girl’s body relax into his. She tasted like peaches and felt like home. Mick often wondered how he’d gotten Y/N to agree to see him as anything other than someone who worked for Haas. How he’d managed to get the girl to agree to give him a chance at all. Mick almost didn’t feel worthy of the y/h/c girl. She was like a living breathing work of art. Something so expensive and lavish that he could only dream of her and yet here she was. 

“Mick, can I come in?” a masculine voice called out knocking loudly on the door causing the young pair to jump. “Quick hide.” Mick whispered, panicking slightly at the thought of being caught. “What?!” Y/N whispered back attempting to signal at the lack of hiding space in the compact room. “Mick?” the voice called again, this time opening the door cautiously. 

“You know you should be more careful, I could have been Guenther.” Kevin stated a smirk settling on his tired face. He wanted to tease the pair mercilessly but seeing the bashful faces watching his every move seemed like punishment enough. “Does… does your Father know you’re here?” the Dane asked the girl firmly, Kevin knew the answer but couldn’t help himself, the question slipped out before he could stop it. “Of course not… Mick still has his seat.” Kevin hummed quickly. 

Scowling lightly Y/N scoffed “No and you’re not going to tell him either Magnussen!” Pointing a threatening finger at the older man. “Please don’t tell him!” Y/N begged the Danish Driver quietly. “You think I’d do that to you?” The Dane replied hurt, running his wide eyes over the girl he’d grown to love like family over the past couple of years. “I wouldn’t betray you like that. Either of you!” Kevin exclaimed, his eyebrows furrowed. “Thank you.” Mick responded appreciatively, his tense stance starting to relax. The German couldn’t help but feel like he’d been caught by his Mother with his hand in the treat jar.  “Don’t thank me just yet… I wasn’t joking that I could have been Guenther. He wants to see you. Check on how you’re doing after yesterday.” Kevin explained gesturing at the door briefly before slipping out chuckling to himself. 

449 notes - Posted March 30, 2022

#2

Dream girl L.L

“Forgive me you look like you need this.” Laurie whispered hesitantly, his long pale fingers gripping the crystal stem of the wine glass. The dark haired man’s knuckles pressing against his ghostly pale skin, anxiety flooding his system. Theodore Laurence was never nervous, the young man usually oozed confidence to the point it was borderline cocky, however spotting Y/N from across the room donned in a beautiful pine green gown left him breathless. The rich green silk hugged the y/s/c young woman’s figure perfectly, it complimented her locks of y/h/c and left her looking utterly radiant. She was beautiful, she always had been even as a child but what really highlighted this Goddess among mortals was the soft smile that sat on her delicate features. 

“Felt the overwhelming urge to save me young Master Laurence?” Y/N teased gratefully accepting the offered glass of champagne, the golden liquid like an extended olive branch. “Not enjoying yourself?” Laurie asked quietly, raising his own glass to his lips focusing his mosaic green eyes on the dispersing bubbles. The older man didn’t want to be caught admiring the y/h girl, he didn’t trust himself to not zone out in utter awe of being in her presence. 

“I do find it a frightful bore.” the y/h/c young woman hummed in agreement. It was a simple dance, hosted by a wealthy local family, nothing compared to the grandeur of the debutante season but still the irritation of having to get all dressed up to stand in the corner was the same. “Mother insists I show my face… She’s becoming antsy about my lack of a suiter.” Y/N added a small giggle erupting from her berry stained lips. “Good luck to whoever manages to tie you down.” Laurie replied bravely, hiding his grin behind his hand. “Theodore Laurence, what is that supposed to mean?!” Y/N asked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the man’s statement. “Nothing severe… the lucky gentleman will have to be strong willed that’s all?” The dark haired man responded with a shrug of his shoulders. The pair had known each other since they were children, in fact Y/N had been his first kiss. It had been magical, the pair had escaped to the fields on a warm spring evening and one thing led to another. Laurie had never forgotten it, his swore that if he thought back to that day hard enough his lips could taste hers, the strawberry jam they’d consumed an hour before was still evident on the young girl’s cupid's bow. When the pair had gotten older Y/N had changed into the lady her Mother had so desperately wanted and while Laurie had once thought they’d end up together his dream of being a musician didn’t seem grand enough for a girl like Y/N L/N. “Am I that unpleasurable?” the young woman asked quietly, insecurity laced in her tone. 

“No… Heaven’s no.” Laurie spluttered nervously but the harsh grip he had on his lip caught between his teeth did nothing to ease the building uneasiness. “You're perfect. A goddess, a dream girl.” Laurie rambled in self-consciousness, “My dream girl in fact.” the man trailed off, wincing at how uncertain he sounded. “I’m sorry.” Laurie mumbled apologetically, taking a step away from the girl as if putting distance between them would stop his racing heart. “I’ve never been someone’s dream girl.” Y/N mumbled bashfully, the young woman was grateful she was currently standing away from the main lighting only a couple of well placed candles and a fireplace providing a soft glow. The flickering amber flames occasionally highlighting her y/s/c face. “Well you’ve always been mine.” Laurie replied delicately, the embarrassed warmth finally leaving his cheeks. 

490 notes - Posted January 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Domestic L.H

instagram edit - Domestic dad!lewis x wife!reader

its been a while since i’ve done an ig post but i had an idea for a while but not enough inspo for a full imagine unfortunately

See the full post

Lewis Insta au really came outta nowhere and stole the show

517 notes - Posted November 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[lemonmeringues]

"Nasal septum in midline" is a statement that I, as a clerk, an intern, and a resident, has used and abused for so long...written in my PE reports just for the heck of it. But now, i would never think the same of it again.

Context story: a few weeks ago, mama called me in a panic 'cause she thinks there's something wrong with daddy. So i interviewed my dad and it seemed he is having a sensation of wanting to expectorate phlegm but couldn't until he was vomiting saliva. As someone with COPD, i deemed it part of his symptomatology to be constantly producing secretions but nevertheless, i advised for an ENT consult just to make sure there's no mass or obstruction in his throat.

So fast forward yesterday, Aug 30, dad was seen by his ENT and a diagnostic nasal endoscopy was done which revealed findings of allergic rhinitis and a deviated septum with associated septal spur on the right. So the scope wasn't able to pass through beyond the nose and he was scheduled for laryngoscopy next month. I've longed suspected that my dad has AR so what piqued my interest was the deviated septum. I am no ENT but I know how a nasal septum can be deviated so I jokingly asked my dad if he was punched in the nose before to which he solemnly answered that indeed he was and that he had a justifying story for it. I know for a fact that as a child my dad was involved in childhood brawls typical among boys and the kind of story you reminisce proudly with your sons, counting how many teeth you knocked out of another kid etc. but daddy did not look like someone who had received a strong blow in the face to actually break his nose. He was handsome and my mom and I would always be envious of his long, pointy nose.

So after he recounted his doctor's appointment, he recounted the story of how back when he just graduated from college in 1986, he and his older brothers were drinking and when he asked permission to leave with his friends, one of his older brothers did not approve and the other older brother started beating him, landing some blows on his face. He lost consciousness for 3 days and was brought to a public hospital wherein apparently he had blood coming out from all holes in his head but no imaging was done and only supportive management was given during his admission. They just waited for him to regain consciousness. He was discharged about 2 weeks after in which he immediately went to review for his boards the following month. As i digested this story, I thanked God silently for keeping my dad alive and allowing him to grow old without suffering any neurological damage, for making him a dad, for giving him milestones at work, for allowing him to be physically active, and retire eventually but still moving like someone who was still in his prime.

After dad finished his story, he handed the phone over to my mama cause he was just finishing his dinner. I screen-captured one moment in our convo when she was mulling over how she pitied daddy for that experience and how he must be traumatized to be beaten by his own brothers. And then she concluded that indeed, daddy was a good man for despite that experience he still had utmost respect and love for his brothers even after they passed from this world. I tried to throw out a joke because I was starting to get weepy about how my mama was showing her sadness for what happened to daddy when he was young when she herself did not have better circumstances when she was young (due to poverty, not that she was beaten or physically abused). Just knowing how these two care for each other and the devotion they have to their family makes me understand how they lasted for more than 3 decades now and makes me want to really give the world to them 🥺. After 5 kids, a house, several properties, and professions in their own fields some may say that they have had a fulfilled life and I agree but more than all of those things, I think being people who have shown their child how to be as filial, as forgiving, persevering, and loyal is the best legacy they could ever achieve while they are still living this world. Love them to bits!

*I have to finish this write up cause I cant stop bawling my eyes out 🥹.

[craigrsumter1]

The fourth deceased individual I would like to talk about is my father, Leonard Sumter Jr..

Despite the fact that he and my mother, Gloria Sumter, have been at the epicenter of this conpsiracy, about two-three (2-3) months prior to his death he actually voiced his desire to the remaining conspirators that he wanted this conspiracy to end and for everyone to leave me, Craig Sumter, alone and in peace. He also offered to buy me a new car (well he technically offered to lease me a new car). Well, apparently all the remaining conspirators, especially my mother, my sister, and my sister’s husband (John Ryall), didn’t like this.

My father suffered from COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease), most specifically emphysema. He had a hard time walking very far, and had difficulty breathing. No one knew this better than his wife, my mother (Gloria Sumter) and my sister (Shalene Sumter). All my mother, sister and her husband ever cared about was money and hurting me. Well my sister and her husband would normally go to my parents’ house in Vancleave, Mississppi for Christmas but in December 2019 my sister and her husband instead went to visit their youngest son, my nephew (Alex) at a rehabilitation for troubled youth where they were paying for him to be a resident. It was a farm, I believe it was either in Wyoming or Montanna. Well during his stay there, my nephew tried to take his own life by trying to commit suicide. Thank God, another one of the residents - an older teen - prevented him from succeeding at his attempted suicide. It makes complete sense that my nephew would try to commit suicide. First off, my sister and her husband had been physically and mentally abusing him for years - something I tried to be present for and help him and for which I was threatened by my sister, her husband and my mother for doing and for which they also retaliated against me for trying to help him. Second, my sister and her husband allowed me to develop a relationship / friendship with my youngest nephew, Alex, only for them to then prevent us from communicating. They of course were doing this with the intent of hurting me, but he was only five (5) years old at the time. Of course it would be much more traumatic and hard on him only being five. Then, instead of actually helping my nephew they dumped him on a farm for troubled teans paying a $6000 entrance fee followed by $5000 per month for him to be there. He wasn’t even allowed to call his parents except for one (1) fifteen (15) minute phone call per week. ONE CALL PER WEEK! When I went to prison I made two to three (2-3) fifteen (15) minute phone calls per day! And it was STILL hard on me being there. And essentially, this farm for troubled teens is like a juevenille detention center but with animals. It consists of all different aged teenagers who are one step away from going to prison for all types of different problems or crimes. My nephew even disclosed to me the last time we spoke (two years ago) how he was physically beaten by one of the older teenagers in the program. So after they basically just dumped him into this residential program for troubled youth, they pretty much abandoned him so that they could continue trying to hurt me and thwart all my attempts to file criminal charges and civil complaints against them for their crimes and torts.

[jfbuckley]

Saturday 19 August 2023.

I’m very much afraid that “a certain point has been reached”. The consensus of the fans on MUFC oriented social media has definitely turned against Ten Hag. He had his honeymoon season last season, but the fans are not happy to see the same mistakes being made despite new players in the side. Principally they are alarmed at seeing the squad so seemingly unfit and slow. Poor Mount seems to be copping an awful lot of stick, but it is only his second game. I don’t like any of this, but social media and Ferguson’s years of success (not to mention the rise of city) has bred a generation of fans who demand instant gratification. I’m in favour of giving Ten Hag the time he needs, but those voices of dissent are not quiet or muted anymore, and will rapidly grow louder and more widespread if there are more performances like the first two this season. I think Ten Hag has got to very soon start getting some good performances out of this team, otherwise it will soon start getting ugly.

Anyway, my football correspondent watched the match at the social club, and here are his considered thoughts. Apologies for being a day or two late.

——

hi - 12 months ago erik ten hag hardly had his feet under the table as the new season began - united played poorly at home in losing the season opener and then were well beaten in london - a year on and what's changed ? not much you might think

personnel wise de gea has been replaced by onana, wan bissaka played instead of dalot, maguire and mctominay are out of favour and might leave, fred has gone whilst antony and garnacho were in for sancho and eriksen - the constants were shaw, martinez, fernandes and rashford

united started pretty well against spurs - rashford was denied by the goalie and fernandes squandered a free header in front of goal - united might have been awarded a penalty but ref oliver said no - after the lucky break against wolves united could hardly complain - anyway united did not score and spurs worked their way into the game - they hit the bar and as united tried to recover a cross was deflected onto the post by shaw - half time came with no score

spurs pressed early in the 2nd half and united allowed kulusevski to get behind the united left and head for the byline - his cross from inside the area was deflected for the onrushing sarr to fire in

united almost equalised a couple of minutes later when antony was put in on the right but his trademark left footed effort bounced back off the post - casemiro had a header well saved - with 10 minutes to go a cross into the united area was miskicked by davis - it dribbled to martinez who miseed with his left foot, the ball then deflecting off his standing right foot into the corner of goal

so another sluggish start by united - they do not look match fit or physically strong - the midfield seems weak - they lack a reliable scorer - they started this match ok but could not maintain control and faded away

if fernandes had scored with his free header it might have been a different story - but he didn't and it wasn't - in fact it was the same old story from last season - a defeat away from home to a decent side

ten hag played an unchanged team against spurs - i shall be very surprised if he doesn't make 3 or 4 changes for the visit of forest next saturday

bye

[rhettcastillo]

starter for @liv-lees —

It had come in a few weeks ago, and how she didn't find it, he'd never know. He guessed it was a testament to just how not nosy his girlfriend was, despite living with him. He wasn't a nervous man, but this made him nervous. She'd beaten him to every plan he'd ever had, but he knew she wasn't thinking about this. There was a lot on their collective plate, but this had been in the works for more than a few months at this point. Tonight, the summer was blowing and the sun was getting them closer to the golden hour, which was one of his favorite times of day.

Passenger side of his truck, they drove through some dirt roads, which was a thing they liked to do, go for a ride, listen to the radio, just be with each other. The dogs were in the bed of the truck, and when they pulled over to a familiar spot on some adjacent land that Rhett was lowly interested in buying — another tract of 30 acres that was adjacent to his own 30. Stepping out of the truck, he went to open the door for, it was a shitty truck, only liked to be opened a certain way and he knew it well.

The little box was tucked into his jeans, and then he went to let the dogs out, which were off like a rocket. They had taken to their walks at the cooler part of the afternoon, the golden part of the day starting to finally ease off in the heat, and he moved to walk next to her, his mind tumbling over about a million thoughts. He wasn't one to get jittery, but he would admit his heart was going like a rocket. He'd been something of waiting for the right time, and then he got impatient, it had to be tonight, it had to be theirs and on their time.

She had been talking about something, but he was too busy thinking about what he was going to do, thinking about where they were going, and this feeling in his chest. There had been a lot of moments in Rhett's life that were important, that he knew were important, and he just breezed past them. This moment, though, he wanted to linger in. He'd always been a reckless guy, so this care, this was something that was foreign to him. But he'd also been an impatient man, ready to plow ahead, relentless and dauntless in his pursuit of something. He was holding his breath, he knew it, trying to slow time, trying to focus on the small items, the ways her eyes rolled when she talked about a coworker, how her pinky reached for him, all those things.

When they ambled a little while, keeping conversation up, the dogs circling back for them to send them out again, and finally he was ready, it was the right place, the canyon on one side, he stopped. "So, there's something I've been meaning to talk about," Rhett said with a nod. "You're all moved in, and God knows, I am this traditional, unmovable sort of man. And I got this mean streak about three counties wide, I just took a yearly trip where I parachute into the wilderness and have to navigate myself out..." He shook his head. "I'm not perfect, not even a little. In fact, most of the time, I'm composed of all these cracks and sharp edges. But you," he softened. "You do this thing where you take those cracks and fill them with gold, some how, without a file or malice, make my rough edges a little smoother, make this whole thing I am doing... feel worth it."

There was something about him, the old archaic part of him, that would never be on his knees and to this day, this moment, it felt cheesy, to step down, and get that little box out, but damn it, if he didn't do it anyway. As he did so, he saw both of the asshole dogs come out from the brush and gave them both a withering glare that deterred them from knocking him over. Opening the box he showed her the diamond and pearl that were set together. "Would you do me the honor to be my bride?"