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#fern gets serious
diedbydeth · 3 months
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rant about proshipping because it's 1 am and i can't sleep and i can't find a good fucking fanfiction website and i'm just so fucking sick of everything.
just to preface this i'm not an "anti". just anti-leaning. i'm shipcourse unaligned because i find this type of discourse really pointless and anger inducing. like why the fuck do i have to tell grown ass adults (i'm literally not joking there are people in their fucking forties believing this shit) that shipping a child and their dad is not ok. like what.
ok preface done. now the rant.
i find all of proshitters' takes on stuff really weird. like what do you mean fiction doesn't affect reality? if fiction doesn't affect really, then how the fuck did the january 6 riots happen? i can assure you that the reason they were there was not because there was actual election fraud. if fiction doesn't affect reality, then queer and racial representation in fiction doesn't matter. like people realize that, right? or am i just out of my mind? clearly you can understand how pedophilia and incest in fiction can affect people if you can understand how representation of minorities in fiction can affect people. there can't possibly be people that dense, right? even aside from children and minors reading that shit, pedophiles reading it can make them consider not getting help for their paraphilia and just jacking off to the porn you oh-so-graciously have given them. like does that not make you uncomfortable beyond words?
or their other argument saying that people shouldn't care what others ship? like am i overreacting to be incredibly uncomfortable around people who actively ship minors and adults? why do people even do that in the first place? don't give me that coping mechanism crap, there are *much* more better and efficient coping mechanisms than writing about pedophilia, like writing about the feelings you felt or talking about it with someone. i went through something very similar, but i didn't have to write pedophilic shit and post it on ao3, so why would you have to?
like you are harming people with this crap. you are giving predators something to hide behind. you are giving people who draw problematic things, not even related to weird ships (like people who draw racist and other bigoted things), something to hide behind. you are giving creeps a platform and ultimately helping them in getting their behavior normalized. do you not see the problem with this?
do i, a teenager, need to tell an adult, a person in their mid-forties, that condoning pedophilia and incest, even fictional, is problematic?
rant over. feel free to send death threats or try to tell me to support creeps in the replies or even my askbox. or don't. your choice.
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They watered the plants that sat in the bay window, soaking up the sun that peeked through the clouds - as if playing peekaboo with the world below.
"Grow little ones. I want Anton to be able to come home to a place that is lively." They whispered gently, a finger stroking the verdant sprouts in one of their more fresh plants they had purchased from the nursery.
Anton would probably need the life around him if he came home.
No. When. They needed to stay hopeful. They would see their lover soon. They could be patient. They blew a kiss to the plants before moving to the other window where more plants waited to be watered. They didn't see the the dying fronds of the love fern as they went.
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mx-paint · 2 years
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.
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fourthapprentice · 7 months
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i’m fucking exhausted y’all.
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captainfern · 1 year
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me, patiently waiting for any marigold updates because i can’t get enough of dbf!price: :3c
(in all seriousness tho i love your work so much you have converted me into a price slut and i am eternally grateful)
(live laugh love barry sloane)
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Marigold pt. 4
dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader
[“Marigold” by Nirvana]
[18+]
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• summary - price is deployed for over four months. photos and phone calls aren’t enough. when he gets home, you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 6.5k • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, established relationship?, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], exchange of explicit photographs, phone sex, mutual masturbation through the phoneeeee, unprotected piv, oral [f!receiving], fingering, praise, light degradation, a sprinkle of dacryphilia, breeding kink [yk fern be serious when it's in bold], creampies, strong language, fluffy at the end, porn with a bit of plot i guess, um... i think that's it omfg i need to take a breath after typing this
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the longer dbf!price fic i told you all i'd write
*rings little bell* dinner is served whores
Deployment was never easy for Price. Even when he didn't have anyone waiting at home for him, leaving the safety of what was familiar to him was stressful enough. He never showed it, though. He had a taskforce to captain. He couldn't afford to get homesick during missions of life and death.
But now...
Now, things were different.
He had you waiting for him. Sure, you weren't waiting for him in the sanctuary of his home— like he wanted you too— but you were still waiting for him.
So this deployment was especially hard for Price. The night before he left, he popped around to your house to say goodbye to your dad. They talked for a while as you listened in from the top of the stairs. When it was time for Price to leave, he stood at the bottom with his arm resting along the bannister, looking up at you.
"Say bye to Price, honey." Your dad said.
"Bye, Price. Stay safe." You said politely, your dad smiling gently at you.
Price's jaw ticked before he nodded in return. "Thanks."
He wanted nothing more for you to bound down the stairs and launch yourself into his arms. He wanted to hold you tight to him as you whispered in his ear. He wanted to litter your face in kisses and run his hands along your back and arse. He wanted to mutter into your ear, telling you he'll be back to you in no time. Back to you.
Instead, he turned on his heel, your dad offering him a hearty slap on the back as he walked Price onto the front porch. You watched them go, your heart in your throat. Your eyes stung with tears, chest beginning to heave. So, before the emotions could bubble to the surface, you retreated into your bedroom in search of sleep.
You didn't see Price look over his shoulder in search of you.
•º•
Price texted you when he could. Which, to your dismay, was not a lot.
A couple times every week, maybe, if service was good. Most of the time, it was a short burst of conversation. A couple of exchanged words before he was back into the thick of his mission. Even more common, he'd text you a huge paragraph before he went dark for several days, leaving you to reread the heart-warming message over and over again with tears in your vision.
A month passed like this.
During this time, the mission was critical for Price, so you understood why his attention was elsewhere. But, after about six days of anxiously waiting for a text, you got one.
————Hey, sweetheart. How've you been? alright. work sucks as usual. how are you?———— ————Not bad. I miss you. i miss you too. oh my god don't make me cry————
You managed to talk a bit more, before he was gone. With a simple goodbye, and a couple of x's, no more messages came through. You found yourself rereading the conversation over and over again, your stomach knotted with anxiety.
You lay back in bed, snuggling beneath your blankets. It was late, and you had work in the morning, but you doubt you'd be getting much sleep. Your stomach was a swirl of nerves, and sadness continued to simmer in the back of your mind.
You grabbed hold of the neckline of the tee you were wearing, bringing it up to your face and inhaling deeply. It smelt like Price. Your favourite cologne of his, too— all rich and masculine, with a hint of cigar smoke. You whined into the shirt.
You missed him so much.
•º•
Another entire month passed.
Price was on edge, too.
The 141 boys had noticed it. Price was a bit shorter and snappier with them. He smoked an extra cigar each day, too, and would smoke it right to it's last dying embers.
He was still doing his job really well— as soon as they were out on the field, Price let nothing distract him. But, in the solace of a safe house, or other place away from the fighting and shooting, Price's emotions were altered. He found himself checking his phone, despite having absolutely no reception where they were. He spent hours before missions checking, and re-checking the equipment, muttering meticulously to himself.
Gaz tried to ask what had Price so worked up. Price dismissed him, stating it was nothing. Gaz wasn't convinced, but didn't want to get in Price's way. Soap poked fun at his captain, but that didn't last long after a scolding from both Price and Ghost. Ghost would give Price a look when the captain would check his phone for the umpteenth time that morning.
"Something on your mind, captain?" Ghost asked.
Price shook his head. "Nothing, mate."
He was a goddamn liar.
He pulled out his phone again, opening your messages. It had been two weeks since your last conversation. You had been the one to sign off. The time differences were not helpful.
————ok, talk to you later :) stay safe! miss you x
He felt his throat go tight.
Fuck.
He missed you so much.
•º•
Two more months ticked past.
Four months since he'd left.
It was absolute torture for both you and Price.
Luckily, Price and the 141 found themselves hunkering down in an area with reception. Price was ecstatic when he saw those bars appear in the top left corner of his phone screen. Throughout the entire day, he felt as though his phone was burning a hole through his pocket. He was itching to text you. To talk to you.
It was like a shadow, looming over him— the temptation of stepping aside and pulling out his phone so that he could text you.
He wanted to tell you that he was alright, and that he'd be home soon. He and the boys were safe. More importantly, he wanted to know if you were safe— how were you? How was everything at home? At work? What had you been up too? Where have you been recently?
By the time the 141 reached the next safe house for rest, it was late at night. Pitch-black, the taskforce dragged themselves into the house and separated almost immediately, chasing sleep while fending off exhaustion long enough to find a bed or couch. Price found himself across the house, tucked away in one of the rooms as he pulled his phone from his pocket while he kicked off his shoes and prepared to get into bed.
Immediately, his phone screen lit up with numerous text messages from you. He smiled wide, his heart soaring. With a trembling hand, he opened the messages, his heart beating excitedly against his ribcage. The thought of you made his heart race.
————captainnnnn i miss you so much ––––four months is too long i'm going insane ––––i miss you more than anything
Price chewed on his bottom lip, clearing his throat as sadness swelled there. He turned off his phone and blinked into the darkness for a moment, before switching it back on. There was a break in the messages by about an hour, Price noticed.
————fuck price i need you ————open this alone [image] x3
His smile dropped at the most recent text messages, sent just seconds ago. He blinked at the three photos, his mouth dropping open in shock. The shock was quickly replaced by need as his cock hardened in his trousers and he let out a low groan.
You fucking tease.
The first photo was a selfie of you from the waist up— you were wearing his t-shirt, which pooled around you. You were propped up in bed, face shiny with moisturiser, skin dewey with the aftereffects of being fresh out the shower. It was tame, but your nipples showing clearly through the cotton of the shirt made Price's eyebrows quirk in intrigue. A smirk settled on his face, and he spent a good five minutes just looking at your pretty features.
When he swiped to the next photo, he muttered a "fucking hell" out loud. A mirror selfie, with that floor-length mirror you had in your room. You were twisted half away from the camera, with your arse to the mirror and your upper torso towards the side. You wore a tiny fucking thong, the curve of your arse on full display, making Price release a shaky breath. You still wore his shirt, too, but hoisted it up with your free hand, exposing your abdomen and a small sliver of skin from your tits.
Price hands shook as he reluctantly swiped to the next one, his cock painfully hard in his cargos. He quickly unbuckled his belt with his freehand as the last photograph illuminated the screen.
"Christ." Price hissed, dipping his hand into his boxers and pulling his cock out.
You, wearing absolutely fucking nothing, standing in front of your mirror in such a way that Price groaned into the air, tossing his head back. You looked so good, so fucking good. Your bare legs, your hips and thighs, your tummy and waist, your tits. Fuck, you looked so pretty.
He gripped his cock firmly, hissing out a breath, eyes taking in every inch of your body. He quickly spat into his palm, before stroking himself, paying careful attention to the underside of his tip, just like you would.
He groaned lowly, careful not to disturb the rest of the task force across the house. Teeth biting into his bottom lip, he fucked his fist in the darkness, his phone screen illuminating his face in a soft white glow. Your photo on screen, he could imagine the hot suction of your mouth on his cock— the purposeful movements of your tongue along the one prominent vein running up the lefthand side; the cheeky skim of your teeth when you pressed your nose into his hair, tip of his cock at the back of your throat.
"Fuck, pretty girl—" He whispered, dark hooded eyes on his phone, his thumb flicking between each photo.
He could imagine more, too. The tight, wet grip of your cunt around his cock, taking more and more. He choked on a low moan at the thought. Your pretty cunt— always dripping for him, soaking your best underwear as you rode his thigh; the tight heat as you rode his cock, tip slamming into your cervix with soft wet sounds.
Price spat onto the head of his cock again, trying to imagine it was you doing it. The speed of his hand sent wet clicks through the room, paired with deep, hushed grunts and groans. Price had dropped his phone onto the bed next to him, propping it up on the pillow so he could still see your photos. But pleasure was quickly taking over his body, his free hand at his balls as he fucked his fist to the thought of you, you, you.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He whispered, movements desperate.
Swiftly, he grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and lifted it up, biting it between his teeth to expose his abdomen. Groaning around the fabric, he came up his stomach, white splattering along the soft ridges of muscle. He whispered your name as he stroked himself through it; stroked himself until his hips twitched in overstimulation, and his cock softened in his hand, slick with his release.
He breathed hard, hand sticky.
Thinking in an exhausted post-nut haze, he grabbed his phone and snapped a couple pics of himself. Of his cum splattered up across his abdomen, through his happy trail; and of his cock in his hand, painted white.
He wanted to roll his eyes. He felt like a horny fucking teenager.
Price sent you the pair of photos before he made quick work of hurrying to the bathroom and cleaning himself up without waking anyone. When he returned to his room, his phone was illuminating again with more messages.
————holy fuck price oh my god ————fuck you're so hot i can't
Price couldn't help but smile as he settled into bed.
You started it, sweetheart.———— ————yeah. did you like them? I think the photos I just sent make it obvious.———— ————you wanked to my photos captain?
Price laughed. Of course he did. He had a whole collection on his phone, photos and videos, of you in varying states that he fucked his fist too each night he missed you.
Of course I did, pretty girl. Just look at you.———— ————price... You're so fucking beautiful.———— ————price don't make me horny. i have work 😭
Price smiled softly at your messages, his breathing calming. He felt an overwhelming sense of pride in the way you talked to him; how you texted him and called him; how you still called him Price after all this time. Your Captain Price.
Call me later if you can, sweetheart.———— ————i will. miss you so much I miss you too. Have a great day at work.———— ————i'll try. stay safe, old man x
•º•
A week went by. Just one more week until Price was home free. Four and a half months away was brutal.
His emotions were slowly becoming harder and harder to ignore. He found himself thinking of you constantly. He missed you so much it was making him worry— worry about you, about his boys, about the end of the mission. Fuck, his mind was going a hundred miles an hour, but his main thoughts were all about you.
The week didn't have as much contact with you as he would've liked. He found himself fucking his fist to the file of saved videos he had of you— wet cunt taking his fingers, his cock, your mouth whimpering his name, his rank.
Goddamn it, he felt like a teenager. Constantly horny for the pretty girl who sent him nudes. Wanking to said nudes almost every night. What had gotten into him?
He kept thinking about how there was one week until he was home. That kept him going. One week until he could hold you in his arms, hug you, kiss you, absorb your presence. One week until he could shove his cock, his tongue, his fingers into your tight cunt.
He screwed his eyes shut. What the fuck, Price.
It's like you knew he was thinking about you.
Price jolted when his phone vibrated on the table beside his bed. He leaned over and grabbed it, leaning against the headboard and smiling as he saw your name flash on screen. He answered, trying to keep his excitement to hear your voice at bay.
"Hey, pretty girl." He drawled, and he heard you whine softly through the phone, making his smile stretch tenfold.
"Hi, Price," you whispered, and the sound of your voice alone had Price's stomach erupting in butterflies. You sounded tired, as though you'd just woken up.
"Did you wake up to call me?" Price asked.
"Mm... maybe," you replied. "But it's okay. I wanted to call you."
Price chuckled. "Okay, sweetheart. How've you been?"
"Good... mostly..." You said, words stretching out.
"Mostly?"
"Mhm. I miss you."
"I miss you too." Price whispered his reply, throat growing tight. He cleared his throat to try and dislodge the tight, burning sensation.
"Mm... tell me about your day." You said.
Price did. He talked about the mission, and the things that had been happening these past few months. He explained how this week was closing everything up before he'd be home.
Then, silence followed. Price listened to your breathing, wondering what was going on inside that pretty head of yours. He was about to ask, too, when he heard you release a high-pitched whine. This was followed by the rustling of sheets, and a shaky inhale of breath from you.
"You alright?" Price asked, and your response was a low moan.
Price's cheeks flared red as he listened to the soft sounds filtering through the phone. Then, he pressed his tongue to his bottom lip, smiling as he listened to you.
"You touching yourself, pretty girl?"
"Fuck—" You whispered. "Y-yeah. Miss you so m-much and you sound so g-good."
Price chuckled lowly, at the right baritone that made you whimper. Price continued to smile to himself as he dipped his free hand into his boxers and pulled his hardening cock out, giving it a couple of strokes before he began speaking to you.
"Tell me what you're doing," he whispered as his cock hardened more, your noises music to his ears. "Be a good girl and tell me how you're touching yourself."
You moaned. "Ah... 'm using my fingers."
"Yeah?"
"Y-yeah... two."
Price spat into his hand and gripped his cock, spreading it along his length.
"Imagining they're yours," you breathed. "But... fuck— they're not big enough, Price— fuck— s'not you."
You were almost sobbing now, and Price could hear how wet you were. Loud, slick sounds. Hell, it felt like Price was there.
He listened to the way you fucked your fingers into your cunt, the way you sobbed out for him, breathing erratically.
"You sound so fucking wet, sweetheart," Price muttered, fucking his fist. "Such a perfect cunt. Come on, add another finger."
Price heard you sob out a moan as you added another finger into your aching core. Price imagined your body trembling against your bed, hips shunting forward to try and notch your fingers deeper. But they wouldn't go deeper. They weren't Price's.
"Captain—" You moaned sweetly, and that made Price's cock jerk violently in his hand. He cursed as you fought to spit out a sentence through a moan. "Feels so good."
"Yeah? I bet it does, sweetheart. Good girl, keep fucking that pretty wet cunt with your fingers. That’s a good girl." Price whispered deeply, listening to your sounds.
He was breathing hard, too. Grunting and groaning into the phone, making your cunt clench around your fingers. You released whimpers and whines in response as you tried desperately to chase your release using your fingers, imagining they were your captains.
Ultimately though, it was his words that were sending you closer to release.
"That's it, that's it, such a good girl," Price said. "Fuck that pretty cunt. When— ah, fuck— when I get home, I'm gonna stuff you full, sweetheart. Stuff that pretty cunt with my cock. You want that? You want me to fill you up? O'course you fucking do, my perfect girl."
You bit your lip, moaning. "Price, m'gonna—"
"Cum for me. Cum 'round your fingers like a good girl."
Price listened to your orgasm with his mouth agape, fastening the pace of his hand. He whined your name under his breath, breathing hard, no doubt loud where your phone was pressed to your ear.
"Coming, sweetheart," Price panted, lower stomach tightening. "M'coming—"
He came in hot spurts all over his cock, thighs, hand and upper arm. Residual splatters went up his bare abdomen, too.
He breathed hard into the phone. "I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you when I get home."
He heard you laugh. "What a way to ruin the mood, captain."
•º•
When Price got home, he didn't even bother unpacking. He dumped all of his shit in the hallway, kicking off his boots while pulling up your contact on his phone. He sent you a text, telling you to come over, and your reply was instantaneous.
Come over.———— ————you're home??? Sure am. Don't keep me waiting.———— ————i'm on my way
Excitement built inside him as he smiled down at your message. Never had he ever felt this way about a person before.
He moved around the darkness of his home, turning on the lights and drawing the curtains. He sighed to himself, finally making the effort of taking his bags upstairs and putting them in one of the spare rooms. He'd sort them out tomorrow.
With excitement to see you still heavy in his body, he had a quick shower and scrubbed away the remnants of his deployment. Afterwards, he got dressed, pulling grey sweatpants [lol hehe] over his boxers just as he heard the engine of a car in his driveway. His heart fluttered and, not bothering to put on a shirt, he hurried downstairs.
When he threw open the door, you had a fist raised to knock. You squeaked in surprise when he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you inside, slamming the door shut and locking it, before pinning you against it. He slotted his mouth to yours, and you gasped into the kiss, before wrapping your arms around his bare shoulders.
Price pulled out of the kiss after a long moment, breathing deeply as he rested his forehead against yours.
"Hello to you too," you joked, smiling. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you too," Price replied. "So much."
You leaned in and kissed him this time, taking the lead. He groaned happily, putting both hands on your waist and pulling your lower half into his. You hummed into the kiss, tongues smoothing together, as he nudged your legs apart with his knee and settled it at your already aching core.
"Remember what I said to you on the phone last week?" Price asked, as you peppered his face in kisses. He fought off a smile.
"That you'd fuck the shit out of me when you get home?"
"Mhm."
"Yeah, I remember," you smiled, nipping his earlobe. "You gonna do it, or no?"
"Cheeky..." He muttered, kissing you one last time before spinning you away from the door. He pushed you away from him with a smack to the arse.
He nodded to the stairs. "You know where I want you."
His words went straight to your core.
With a building ache between your legs, you shakily kicked off your shoes. Then, you bounded up the stairs, wiggling your arse as you went. You giggled when Price groaned, following just a few steps behind.
You practically skipped into his bedroom. You turned around just as he walked in, pulling you closer to him straight away. Hands on your hips, he kissed you hard, his tongue pushing against yours, exploring your mouth. The kiss was full of longing and desperation— all of Price's pent up emotion from four months apart.
Price guided you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. He lay you down on your back, shifting you so you had your head on his pillows. He followed, crawling over top of you, continuing the kiss. You tugged at his hair with one hand, the other moving to the waistband of his sweatpants. You skimmed a fingernail over the elastic.
Price broke the kiss. He licked his lips, savouring the taste of you.
"Impatient, are we?" He queried as your fingers pulled the waistband of his sweatpants down, exposing his boxers and the imprint of his hard cock.
You cupped his bulge and he grunted.
"It's been four months, Price. Of course I'm fucking impatient." You quipped, squeezing lightly.
He cursed, eyes shutting, hips canting into your touch. After a second, he opened his eyes and battered your hand away from him. He slunk downwards until he rested between your legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows, cocking your head to the side as he took off your trousers and your underwear.
The scene was oddly tender. He placed kisses along the bare skin of your legs as he pulled your trousers and underwear away. He tossed them across the room, resuming the trail of kisses along your thighs and knees. He kissed right past your most sensitive part, and you blew out a breath, as his lips pecked over your hips, navel and tummy while he pushed your shirt up.
You helped him pull your shirt over your head.
"No bra?" Price remarked, hands automatically cupping your tits. "Naughty girl."
He tweaked your nipples, making you whine.
"Price, please..." You begged, voice trailing off as he pinched at your sensitive nipples.
"Hmm? What do you want?"
You felt your face heating up. "Want your mouth on me."
"Yeah? My pretty girl wants my mouth on her?" Price drawled slowly, edging back down your body until he was settled comfortably between your legs. He gripped the plush flesh of your thighs in two large hands, squeezing and groping.
You whined, feeling his breath fan across your dripping core. "Please, sir."
He hummed, content. "You always ask so nicely. Such a good girl for me, sweetheart."
You and Price both moaned when he sealed his mouth over your clit first. He circled the bud with his tongue, your hips bucking, hands fisting the sheets at your sides. The vibrations of his moans made your mouth drop open.
His facial hair tickled your inner thighs as he sucked on your clit. He skimmed his teeth along the top of the sensitive bud, and you cried out, shooting one hand down to grab his hair. He grunted when you tugged. He then dragged his tongue down your folds slowly— so slowly you thought you might have a fucking heart attack at the sensations— before circling your soaking hole.
"Such a needy fucking cunt," Price mused directly into your core. "Always so wet for me."
Price licked into you, making you bite back a scream. Four months without his mouth on you had driven you to the brink of insanity. You gripped his hair, urging him closer as the solid muscle of his tongue moved in and out of your core. The sounds were slurping wet, echoing loudly in your ears. They played amongst a chorus of Price's grunts and groans, and your whines and whimpers, producing an orchestra of sounds.
His beard scratched the sensitive skin. Not that you minded. It only added to the tight coil in your lower tummy that was twisting tighter and tighter, your body shining with sweat.
"Price, I'm so close." You sobbed as he continued to lick into you, his eyes watching your facial expressions change.
Price dragged his tongue in a zig-zag motion up your slit, sucking your clit into his mouth as he watched you squirm. "Ask nicely, sweetheart."
You keened, your climax building so aggressively that your legs trembled in his hold and you felt a thin layer of sweat building on your lower back, still pressed against the soft blankets.
"Please, sir, can I..."
His teeth skated across your clit again, and you moaned loudly.
"Fuck—! Please, sir, p-please, can I cum? Please, please—"
He seemed satisfied with that. He dipped his tongue back into your cunt and stuffed it inside, humming confirmation that you could let go. The hum seemed to punch you straight in the fucking uterus, and you came with a mewling moan. Price lapped it up, pressing your thighs tighter around his head.
He sucked you through your high. While you trembled, he massaged your thighs, tongue moving in and out of you lazily. Just when you were on the verge of overstimulation, Price pulled back. His facial hair glistened with your arousal, sparkling in the semi-darkness.
He tutted at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
You hadn't realised tears were streaming down your face.
"Mmmfeltsogood—" You whimpered out in one jumbled word, a couple of tears running over your lips. "Missedyousomuch—"
"My poor girl," Price crawled over you. "My poor, needy girl."
He licked the tears off your lips, before kissing a few off your cheeks. He kissed you deeply once you caught your breath, and you tasted your arousal and the salt from your tears. The arousal on his face smeared onto yours, leaving sticky residue across your chin and cheeks.
"You alright now?" He asked gently, voice soft.
You nodded.
"Good. I'm going to fuck you now, okay?"
Fuck, well okay then.
You nodded again. He chuckled behind a close-lipped smile while he shoved his trousers and boxers down his legs, kicking them onto the floor. You whimpered at the sight of his cock— hard, curving towards his abdomen with a reddened tip leaking ivory beads of pre-cum. A prominent vein ran down the left side, from tip to base, dipping into his pubic hair. His dark happy trail crawled up towards his navel, skimming the base of his abs. You were fucking salivating.
He situated himself between your legs, which you wrapped around his hips as he sat back on his heels. He gripped his cock, hissing as he stared at you. So pretty. All for him.
"Condom?" You joked with a coy smile, watching the copious stream of pre dribbling down his length.
He huffed an amused laugh, leaning over you. Drips of pre landed beside your navel. "As if you don't enjoy me filling this tight cunt."
He wasn't wrong.
He kissed you as he notched his cock at your fluttering entrance, smearing your slick around while his tongue probed against yours.
"I missed you so much," he whispered against your mouth as his head pushed into you. "I missed you so fucking much, sweetheart."
The stretch was still difficult to get used too.
You exhaled a breath, his cock sliding in. "I missed you, too."
Eventually, his cock hit the base of your cervix and you whimpered. He shushed you with another kiss before he moved his face away, eyes darting across your features. He ground his hips into your pelvis, and you whimpered again.
"My girl's so sensitive." He uttered, pulling his cock all the way out. Then he thrust back in, and his brutal pace began— your moans of pleasure his starting gun.
His cock rammed against the plug of your womb repeatedly as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. He had one hand on your hip, the other beside your head as he fucked you into his bed. Your hands ran up and down his back, feeling the smooth planes of muscle. Your hands moved to his chest, squeezing his pecs. You smiled, fingers scraping through the coarse hair. Your hands continued lower, running over his sternum and abs, rubbing over the top of his happy trail.
He grunted, using one hand to snatch both of your wrists. Before you knew it, your hands were pinned above you. Price used one hand to keep your arms in place before his thrusts grew heavier— fucking his fat cock into your soaking cunt. He was fucking the shit out of you, just like he promised.
"That's my girl, just take it," Price grunted. "Take my cock. That's a good girl, sweetheart. That's a good girl. Let this needy cunt take my cock."
You whimpered, chest heaving, sensitive nipples brushing against his chest. The bed creaked beneath you, headboard tapping the wall. His cock continued to bruise your cervix in a way that had your entire body shivering in pleasure.
"Harder." You moaned.
"Harder?" Price chuckled, but obliged— the weight of his thrusts increasing, slamming into the spot within you that had your back arching. "You want it like this? Want it rough? Fucking hell, sweetheart, such a naughty girl."
You bit your lip, hiding your whimpers.
"Yeah, such a naughty girl," Price muttered, eyes zeroed in on where his cock entered you. "Naughty, naughty girl. Letting your dad's best friend fuck you like this. Letting your dad's mate fuck this tight cunt."
That made you moan really loud. His eyes found your face, a vulpine smile developing over his mouth.
"Yeah, you like that? 'Course you do. Needy fucking slut, aren't you, sweetheart? Just love this cock, don't you?"
His words made your core clench. You mewled, a pathetic little sound. You were one more bit of dirty talk away from coming all over his cock—
"Can feel this cunt squeezing me, pretty girl," Price said. "You wanna cum? Go on, then. Cum 'round my cock. Show me how much of a needy slut you are for this cock, darling."
Fucking hell.
You came.
A lot.
You squirted all over his fucking abdomen, and you felt it. Felt the wet gush, felt the warmth. But, above all, you felt the pleasure— tummy tightening, cunt fluttering, legs trembling. Usually, you'd moan his last name. You always had done— Price is what you'd called him since you could remember. Hell, it's what your dad would call him, too.
But this time was different.
"John—!" You cried, and Price smiled as he continued to fuck you.
"Good girl, good fucking girl, there you go," Price moaned through his smile. "Such a perfect girl."
His brutal pace continued, and you were quick to realise that, holy fuck, your third orgasm was looming, pooling in the base of your tummy.
"John..." You whispered.
"John? Thought that made me sound old?" Price mused, pounding into you. "You like that I'm older, don't you, sweetheart? Guys your age can't fuck you like I can."
You mewled again, barely able to keep your eyes open. You were doing your best to watch him. Watch the way he hovered over you, pinning your arms above your head. The way his hips surged with each thrust, slamming himself inside you. You felt the subtle vibrations of his chest against yours as he grunted and groaned.
Your third orgasm reared its head within you, and you felt breathless as the weight of the pleasure pushed moan after moan from your lungs. Price watched you, and the way your mouth dropped open in a continuous harmony of sounds.
His thrusts were becoming sloppier. He was panting, too, as he watched your body grow tight, your cunt constricting his cock in such a way that he grit his teeth to suppress a whimper.
"Come on, beg for me," he whispered, rutting into you desperately. "I know you're close, sweetheart, I know, I know. Just beg for it."
You whimpered, tears welling in your eyes as the pleasure mounted, burning hot inside your tummy. You felt dizzy, too.
"Please, sir, please let me cum, please, I'm s-so close... n' feels so g-good."
He groaned, pleased. "That's my girl. Cum for me."
You did.
You came around him for the third time. You arched as best as you could in order to feel his chest against yours— feel his body, his warmth, his presence. Tears slipped from your eyes as you moaned, and you finally allowed your eyes to flutter closed as you did so.
Your brain was fuzzy and warm and you felt so good. He made you feel so good. The solid weight as he lay over you, the heat of his bare skin, the slight scratch of his light, coarse hair. He stuffed you full, his cock reaching a place far within you that ached each time he spoke. Maybe it was your heart he was reaching, maybe not with his cock— although it surely felt close— but with his hands. His voice, too, and his words, his personality, his mind. Captain John Price had a firm grasp on your heart, and that sent more hot tears spilling down your cheeks.
"I love you." You sobbed, and he released your hands at just the right moment. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.
He groaned, deep and melodic, his arms either side of your face. He leaned down and captured your mouth in a soft kiss. It was slow and passionate, full to the brim with emotion.
Price pulled away slightly, speaking against your lips. "Say it again."
"I love you."
"Again."
"I love you, John."
"Fucking hell," he kissed you again, rutting into your tight heat without any discerning rhythm. He was chasing his high. "I love you too."
He kissed the tears off his cheeks, before his head dropped into the crook of your neck. He nipped at the flesh, sucking a bruise.
"I love you, I love you," he repeated. "And m'gonna fill this pretty cunt with my kids. Breed you nice and full, sweetheart— ah, fuck— mhm, get you nice and full... all fat with my kids. Ah, ah— I love you."
He came inside you with a quiet moan, your name following like a mantra. You felt him, hot and thick, flood past your cervix. You whined, rubbing his shoulders.
Price dragged his cock out of you, bringing a wave of fluids with it. Embarrassment zapped up your spine as your arousal and his cum seeped out of your hole. Price ignored your whimpers, gently gathering his cum that had leaked out. He pushed two digits into your cunt, stuffing his cum back inside you.
"Don't waste it..." He whispered, more to himself than to you.
You whimpered under your breath at the feeling of his fingers inside you. He wiggled them around a bit, ensuring his seed stayed right up inside you.
"My perfect girl. I love you." He whispered again.
This time, it wasn't to himself. It was directly to you.
•º•
An hour or so passed and, after a couple more rounds, Price cleaned you up. Ever the gentlemen, he turned on the shower and helped you into it. Behind you, he soaped your body, running his hands along every dip and curve. He exited the shower first, grabbing a warm towel and wrapping you in it.
Little words were exchanged between the two of you as he dried you, then dried himself. You basked in each others presence. He then dressed you in his boxers and his shirt, kissing up your legs as he pulled the boxers up, and littering your face in pecks as he pulled the shirt over your head. He put on his boxers too, before guiding you back into his bedroom and yanking back the covers.
Price hopped in first. He held the blankets open for you to clamber in, nestling yourself against his chest. He settled the blankets back over you, hugging you tight to his body. He breathed deeply, nose to your hair.
You listened to his breathing for a moment.
"Price?"
"Mm?"
"I meant it, you know."
"Meant what, sweetheart?"
"That I love you."
He hugged you tighter. "I love you too."
You sighed into his chest. "This... I'm going to be in a lot of trouble with my dad."
"Yeah. Same."
You laughed at his nonchalance, leaning back to look at him.
"I'm serious," you muttered, fending off a smile, tapping his chest with your fingers. "I'm in love with his best friend."
He grumbled something.
You chuckled. "What?"
"If he has a problem, he can take it up with me."
"That is the problem, Price. He will take it up with you."
"True," Price said, and you laughed. He hummed, thinking. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, sweetheart, okay?"
"Okay..." You breathed, snuggling yourself back against him.
Comfortable silence followed. Then—
"Price?"
"Mm?"
"Do you really want me to have your kids?"
He choked on his saliva after inhaling to quickly. Shocked, probably. He coughed lightly, and you waited for him to soothe himself.
"Yeah, well, uh— okay, look, I mean—"
You pat his chest, echoing his words. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, John."
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
let me know what you thought x
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wynnyfryd · 10 months
Text
Trailer park Steve AU part 23
part 1 | part 22 | ao3
cw: alcohol, recreational drinking
Steve fusses with his hair in the side mirror again, tugging awkwardly at his borrowed clothes. He feels stupid, standing here fidgeting in the parking lot like some kind of nervous freshman, but half of Hawkins seems to be here tonight and Robin’s got him dressed like a loser — worn green flannel and a ripped black tee with a faded picture of The Smiths. Jesus. “Did you really have to dress me like this?” 
“What? You look cute!” 
“I look like I raided Jonathan Byers’ closet.”
“No, you look like someone a certain neighbor is going to be drooling over all night.” Steve’s grateful for the dark then; for the blush it hides on his cheeks. “It’s not my fault you don't know how to make a deal; if you wanted to borrow a specific shirt, you should have said so before we shook on it.”
“Besides,” she ignores him when he rolls his eyes at her, “you wouldn’t even let me smudge eyeliner on your lower lash line like I wanted to, so I really don't feel like you’ve earned complaining privileges.” 
“I’ll complain if I fucking want to,” he grumbles under his breath. He runs a hand through his hair one more time, then forces himself to look away from the mirror. Rolls his shoulders back and down. “He’s not even here, anyway.”
“Ah-ha! So you did check.” She links their arms together, starts dragging Steve across the uneven gravel, her ankles wobbling in her low-heeled boots. “‘Just looking for a good parking spot,’ my ass. God, I’m always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct. I should really play the lottery next time I visit my grandparents..."
“Uh huh.” He’s not sure what luck and correctness have to do with each other, but sure.
She stumbles over a rock; pushes into his side, grinning, “I’m serious! I’ll play the lottery, and I’ll win big, and then you’ll see. Might even split my winnings with you if you’re nice to me.” 
“I’m literally so nice to you all the time, but okay. Can’t wait to take half your earnings when you get ten bucks off a scratcher.” 
“Hey, five bucks is five bucks! That’s like an hour and a half of our lives.”
Jesus Christ. “That’s just depressing.”
They walk arm and arm down the narrow footpath to the party — ferns brushing their calves, dry dirt beneath their shoes kicking up tiny clouds of dust — and as the path opens up Steve sees the place is packed. More packed than the overstuffed parking lot let on. There are people scattered over the picnic grounds in groups of fours and fives, a full dance floor under the main pavilion; a DJ set up at the front with food and drink stands to the side; a giant bowl of spiked punch; a tower of solo cups; a couple of coolers filled with beer.
In the surrounding grass he sees more tables, more people. A couple of guys he remembers from swim team rally around an arm wrestling match; another group plays beer pong on a brown fold-up table that they definitely stole from someone’s church. There's a circle of burnouts playing hacky sack behind a tree.
The bonfire burns brightly on the hillside in the distance, and beyond that he spots the faint glow of trail lights leading up to a bridge under the falls. 
Part of him wants to follow the trail. Shake Robin off, pretend like he’s going to take a leak. Find a nice rocky overhang to camp under for a while.
Listen to river sounds. Gentle slosh; cricket buzz.
Maybe he gets drunk up there alone. Maybe he just enjoys the solitude; lies on a rock on his belly by the icy river’s edge, swirls his hand in frigid water and doesn't dream of dark brown curls.
“Steve?” Robin nudges him. “You good?”
Another, much less annoying part of him reminds him that he’s Steve Goddamn Harrington. He knows how to have a good time at a party.
Who cares if he feels too old to be here, or if it’s weird to see so many faces that used to call him Captain or King? Who cares that he's one smudge of eyeliner away from looking like a full-blown new wave art freak?
He’s not about to slink off to do depressed weirdo wallflower shit when the DJ’s playing Wham!
“Yeah.” He squeezes her shoulder. “You want a drink?” 
“Yes, please.” 
The drinks are strong.
Steve’s pretty sure the punch bowl is a lot more hunch than punch, but there’s still no sign of Vickie, and Robin’s getting that sad little stress wrinkle between her brows about it, so Steve says bottoms up and starts chugging. 
They wince their way through two cups each. Robin plugs her nose on the second one like she’s about to do a high dive, and Steve laughs and takes her hand, leading her into the crowd just as Take on Me comes on. The lights all blur together as they shimmy and shake and twirl, moving like a couple of dorks, but Steve’s having a great time. Bobbing his head to the beat; a big, dumb grin on his face as he moves his hips. Robin shouts “Watch this!” over the music, and the next thing he knows they’re competing to see who can bust the worst dance move. 
He brings out all the big guns, the full-groan dad maneuvers.
The sprinkler, the lawn mower, the fucking disco finger. 
Robin answers with a sloppy attempt at the robot, so he makes up a new move he calls be kind, rewind, and she laughs like a horse and pretends to walk down a flight of stairs.
She’s crouched into a goofy lunge, two steps into the ascent back up, when the song fades out and a ballad takes over. The crowd presses in to slow dance; Robin steps on someone's toes.
“Hey, watch it!” the person hisses.
Robin startles hard; knocks herself off-balance when she tries to stand up straight, babbling, "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry! Are you- are you okay? I'm such a klutz, oh, my god, I'm—"
Steve snatches her up under the armpits; puts her back on her feet. Then he looks up and realizes who exactly she just stepped on. 
Well, shit.
part 24
tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)
@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot
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loveemagicpeace · 7 months
Text
🛁Body & Health🧼
🛁6th house is also about your health. How you can get sick or which part of the body may be most vulnerable. Of course, there are other factors as to why and how. But the 6th house is connected to your body, which means that there are things here that can have the greatest impact on your body.
☀️Sun in 6th house you can be prone to exertion. Many times your heart and hair can suffer. Back, spine and immune system -They can many times be affected. It is good if you eat a lot of vitamins. Exercise is also very important. The more you move, the more energy you will have. Heart disease is often confirmed in men due to excessive strain. Herbs good for you: sunflower, calendula, mistletoe, juniper, laurel, chamomile, cinnamon, rosemary.
🌙Moon in 6th house you can be prone to depression. Emotional stress can greatly affect health. You must not be emotionally burdened with work. Your body can recover quickly even after a serious illness if you are emotionally stable. Parts of the body you have to be careful are: breasts, mammary glands, esophagus, stomach, intestines, salivary gland, liver, gallbladder, intestine. Herbs good for you: anise, cabbage, camphor, cucumber, iris, jasmine, lettuce, lily, poppy, violet, willow, lotus, moonwort, mugwort, pumpkin.
🍀Mercury in 6th house-you can be prone to stress. The nervous system is weak and sometimes they are threatened by tension and stress due to the fast pace of life. You have to remind yourself that it is necessary calm down and relax every now and then and try to eat regularly. The brain, lungs, respiratory system and nervous system can be affected the most. With mercury here The lungs are a potential weak point because it's a common cold may develop a persistent cough. Also shoulders, arms and hands. These can be susceptible to injuries such as sprains or fractures. Herbs good for you: lilies of the valley, marjoram, fern, lavender, fennel, anise, mint, thyme, dill, lemon grass.
🍒Venus in 6th house- you can be prone to prone to unpleasantness. Many times it can be something that affects your appearance, your beauty. People with this placement can fluctuate a lot with their body weight. They also tend to tighten in the neck, which is usually the result of tension that has accumulated over time. Because they want to remain calm, most of the time feelings of anger and stress. Parts of the body that may be most prone to damage: throat, kidneys, lumbar region. Herbs good for you: birch, walnut, almond, violet, narcissus, elder, poppy, passion fruit, fig, peach, apricot, olive.
🦋Mars in 6th house- you are prone to irritation. Many times you can get injured during sports or activities. It is not recommended to do things that are dangerous. Many times you can burden yourself too much by being able to finish or do something. You can often be prone to migraines and headaches. Even to a hot temperature, which otherwise quickly disappears. It is not recommended that they be active when they are tired. It can mean that you have too fast a pace of life, which can mean that you skip the main meals (which can lead to digestive problems). Parts of the body that may be most prone to damage: head, muscles, adrenal glands, fetuses. Herbs good for you: pine, pepper, hot pepper, nettle, cherry, radish, horseradish, onion, garlic, ginger, tobacco.
🫧Jupiter in 6th house-Jupiter is usually good in this house because it represents happiness luck abundance. So most likely you will be very blessed with your health. However, you may be inclined to react too impulsively or optimistically to certain health problems. Even if they get sick, they recover quickly. The thinness of the stems is rich food and wine, which can lead to obesity, especially in middle age. They tend to overeat, which can overload the liver. In later years, arthritis and rheumatism affects the hips. Parts of the body that may be most prone to damage: thighs, liver. Herbs good for you: oak, pine, maple, birch, willow, cherry, pear, licorice, moss, wheat, nutmeg, saffron, clover.
🪐Saturn in 6th house-you can be prone to burdnes. Sometimes you can have too much stuff. You are stressing too much and giving yourself too much stress and limitations. When they're exhausted, their weakened immune systems can't cope with minor ailments as easily, and unrelieved tension can prevent a good night's sleep. The main body parts associated with it signs are knees, teeth and bones. Over the years, joints can become stiff. Meticulous dental care is required. They are prone to strong melancholy and can gradually begin to sink into depression. Parts of the body that may also be prone to damage : gall bladder, spleen. Herbs good for you: cypress, hemp, wolf cherry, moss, cumin, ivy, sage.
🪼Neptune in 6th house- you may be prone to self-inflicted diseases. Things can be confusing and not clear. They can get diseases from computers, phones and other modern technology and pollutants. Mysterious health problems that modern medicine cannot define or explain. Complementary therapies may help you more. Since Neptune and Pisces are associated with the feet, this part can be the most affected. Pisces often under severe stress they seek solace in alcohol and drugs. A foot massage will be good for you. Parts of the body that may be most prone to damage : nervous system, feet. Herbs good for you: water lily, mushrooms
🧃Uranus in 6th house- You may be more sensitive to the cold. Diseases that can appear are often related to unknown or strange things. They have an intense mind that needs plenty of stimulation, but they are not always in tune with their body's needs. Daily lack of movement causes a decline in energy and circulation. During the winter months, numb fingers and feet can swell if nothing else take action. Uranus is also associated with the ankles so people can be prone to sprains. They can exercise caution and must wear appropriate footwear. They are also subjected sudden illnesses that then disappear without a trace. Parts of the body that may be most prone to damage: ankles, blood circulation. Herbs good for you:orchid
🐚Pluto in 6th house- They are extremely durable and resistant, which means that they are generally healthy. Some diseases that may be related to them are of a more psychosomatic origin. They may also be prone to nervous tension, which can affect the muscles of the shoulders, neck, and back. A massage is good. The main parts of the body are the bladder and large intestine. It is important that they excrete toxins. It is also good to do a detox diet every now and then. Parts of the body that may be most prone to damage: miscarried, gave birth, bowels. Herbs good for you:eggplant, beetroot, pomegranate, daffodil.
🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸
-Rebekah🧚🏼‍♀️💕🌙
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whore4abby · 11 months
Note
heyyyy vannyyyyyy i love u sm i promise i'm not being a lurker
what abt model reader and abby at like a designers party (yk the devil wears prada 👀)
i'm too obsessed with everything u write is there like a support group or something for whore4abby addicts
ferny fern ur brain !! this idea is so yummy 😵‍💫 i love u MORE !! thank u for this hope u don’t mind me switching it up a lil mwah mwah !! NO ONE would join that damn support group bffr wrote this at 3am let’s not talk abt it
high fashion;
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kinda a part two of this !!
warnings; smut - sex in a public bathroom, strap-on usage (r!receiving), choking (with abby’s tie), mdni
wc; 1.7k
“abs…c’mon, baby…we gotta leave in a few minutes.” you call out to your wife who’s spent the last 30 minutes making sure she looks absolutely perfect, not one hair out of place in her braid, making sure her new tux was absolutely spotless.
“i’m coming, doll…gimme a minute.” she calls out softly and you laugh and roll your eyes playfully at her antics. the ongoing joke that she spends way more time getting ready than you do slowly but surely starting to become a reality.
you smooth out the fabric of your almost sheer, black satin dress and slip on your jimmy choo heels, grabbing your purse from the dresser before looking up just as abby walks out from the bathroom. you swear you feel your eyes turn into little heart shapes as you see her.
she looks nothing short of absolutely perfect in her sleek, tailored black tux paired with her shiny black dress shoes, her muscular forearms filling out the sleeves of her suit jacket and her long hair slicked back from her face. you're absolutely smitten as you rush over to press your lips against hers repeatedly, “god, you’re so pretty…” you sigh, words coming out as a breathless whisper as you press your face against her chest, closing your eyes and breathing in her familiar scent.
before you know it you’re gathered in a spacious studio for a small, intimate gathering of some couture designers to showcase their new up-coming works. you’re surrounded by mannequins displaying gorgeous designer clothes, along with an assortment of clothes scattered around the room, from elegant ballgowns to sophisticated suit jackets.
the windows are covered in velvet drapes, allowing a small amount of natural moonlight to flood the room. everyone whispering discreetly amongst themselves, scanning the surroundings and taking in all the lavish clothing and glittering accessories.
you wander off away from abby for a little while, you’re quietly minding your own business checking out some artist sketches that are carefully hung up on the wall when you feel a presence beside you. “beautiful aren’t they?” a heavily accented voice causes you to look away from the framed pictures and you turn your head to see a familiar italian designer.
“yeah…they’re gorgeous! are they for the new spring-summer collection?” you query, you head tilting curiously in his direction. “yes, that’s correct…these pieces should be out within the next couple of months.” he smirks and leans in closer to you.
“i was actually just thinking about you.” he places a hand on your shoulder and you resist the urge to shudder in disgust. “oh, please…i’m not that special.” you force a stiff laugh and shake your head, after all this time you still find it hard to believe that you have become a well-known, household named model.
“im serious! i saw you at that runway show a couple weeks ago…and let me say, it’s been driving me crazy ever since. ive been dying to get in contact with you-“ he chuckles, his gaze drifting down towards you body. he takes your hand in his, a cunning smile spreading wide as he leans in to kiss your cheek. you shake his hand curtly before pulling your hand back and jerking your face away from him.
he continues to flirt with you, his eyes finding yours and locking onto them. “perhaps you’d be interesting in catching a drink tonight?” he looks down at your shoulder and casually caresses it with his hand. “my hotel is just a couple blocks away, and i know you’re staying in the city the whole weekend. so whatdya say?”
you start purposely clinking your perfectly polished wedding ring against your half empty champagne glass, hoping he gets the hint. “i’ll actually be busy with my wife….in our own hotel room, thank you very much.”
you catch a glimpse of abby across the room, she instantly feels a pang of jealousy as she watches him openly flirt with her girl practically right in front of her face.
her brow begins to furrow and she discreetly ends the conversation she’s having and makes her way over to you, she obviously saw the guy kiss you, and she’s clearly not happy about it.
you watch his smile falter a little at the mention of your wife, and he directs his gaze towards abby as she approaches, obviously intimidated by her height and stature. “everything okay, my love?” she asks, her eyes still watching the designer. you lean in to kiss her briefly before pulling away and nodding, wrapping your arm around her bicep.
he finally gets the hint and laughs, taking a step or two back. “hmm, well isn’t that a shame?” he says with a grin. he turns to walk away, before stopping and turning back to face you. “well if you ever want to get in touch, here’s my card.” he holds out a small business card with his details on it and smiles at you, abby quickly pushes his hand away and speaks in a passive-aggressive manner, “my wife and i won’t be needing that, thank you.”
he laughs cockily, obviously slightly amused before turning on his heel and walking off to probably shamelessly flirt with another married woman.
abby leans into you, resting her head against yours, taking the champagne flute out of your hand and placing it on a nearby silver side-table. her eyes still watching the designer as he saunters away. “i don’t like how he was looking at you, darling.”
you roll your eyes at her comment, giggling slightly. “babe, calm down,” you say, squeezing her hand. you look over at her and smirk at her. “but you’re really the only one who i’ve got my eyes on, okay?”
“you’re mine…all fuckin mine~” her voice is rough, and she still can’t shake her jealousy from that designer looking at you. abby leans in and kisses you on the neck, her lips gently sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin.
abby smiles wickedly at you, before grabbing you by the hand and quickly dragging you to the back of the boutique. you find yourself in a fancy, private bathroom and abby quickly locks the door behind you. she pulls you in for a heated kiss and you can feel her firm body pressing against yours.
abby’s tongue gently plays against yours, her hands caressing your face and your body, slowly pulling you closer to her. she bites down on your bottom lip slightly, but not hard enough to hurt you.
she pulls away for a second before diving back in, kissing you passionately and with more force than before. “all mine~” she whispers in your ear, her breath hot on your neck, her fingers finding their way down to hike your dress up over you ass, bending you over in the sink counter.
you hear the zipper of her pants being yanked down and the rusting of her shirt being untucked before she pulls your panties off your body and discards them onto the floor before nudging your legs apart with her knee.
you whine as she swipes the tip of the strap-on through your sticky folds, gathering up your slick before pressing the head of the dildo against your slit. “say it…tell me who's the only one who gets you this wet~” she pushes in slowly, groaning at the sight of your pussy greedily taking her cock. “you, abs…fuucck- only you!”
she thrusts herself fully inside without warning, all seven inches of black silicone right up to the hilt making you cry out, feeling every vein and ridge flush against the walls of your cunt. the stinging stretch causing your face to contort in a mixture of pleasure and pain as she pulls out until just the tip remains inside, then slams back in. she roughly manhandles you, slamming you back on her cock. “nnhhggg…a-abby~”
you hear her fumbling with something before you suddenly feel pressure around your throat, the silky material of her tie digs into your neck as she wraps it around your throat and yanks you back to make eye contact with her in the mirror. “look at me while im fucking you, yeah?” she growls through gritted teeth, her eyes dark and filled with jealousy fueled lust.
you’re gripping onto the marble counter so hard that your knuckles are starting to lose their colour, strangled moans leaving your lips, the perfectly applied lipstick now smudged around your mouth in messy splotches.
she drops the tie onto the counter and you gasp for some much needed air. she snakes her free hand down to rub at your clit lazily as she snaps her hips into yours at an eye-rolling pace. “a-abby! oohhh…my god…fuck…” the fingers of her unoccupied hand dig into your hip, holding you in place as she starts to pound into you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the small bathroom.
she groans, picking up the pace, the friction from the harness against her clit making her moans grow louder and more desperate, hips grinding into you in-between thrusts as she chases her own release.
you thighs start to clench and shake as her pace picks up even more, leaving you gasping and grabbing at any surface you can find to ground yourself. “you feel that? only i can make you cum like this, yeah?” you’re babbling incoherently as the the head of her cock keeps bumping into that sweet spot until it has you letting out a loud pleading cry as you cum on her cock.
she keeps thrusting, prolonging your release as she helps you ride out your own orgasm, her thick fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.
“fuuccckk~” she pants heavily, leaning forward to rest her head against your back, the harness still grinding against her clit and making her cum hard whilst still buried inside you.
she lets out a loud groan as she pulls out with a pop, looking down at the mess between your legs and the cum dripping from your clenching cunt. you turn back to face her and she brings your mouths together in a brief, heated kiss before pulling away and carefully helping you clean yourself up.
she tucks her strap-on back into her pants and neatens her tux up before picking up your discarded panties and shoving them into her pocket before holding her arm out for you to take. “c’mon, baby~” her chivalrous action a stark contrast to the way she just fucked you into oblivion not even five minutes ago.
you smile coyly, adjusting your dress and grabbing onto her forearm as she leads you out of the bathroom and back out into the main studio space, not even caring about the skeptical looks and the un-approving stares of the people around you.
an; model!reader has me in an absolute chokehold right now😵‍💫if u have any ideas for more PLSSS leave me a request !!!!
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herbgerblin · 1 year
Text
A comprehensive list of Lup sensations (Lupsations?) documented 24-72 hours post emerging from body regrowth chamber, dictated by Lup Taaco Bluejeans:
Wind - cold but good
Sunlight - warm, so so good. please open all of the windows, especially for naptime
Grass - noooooo nono no nope sorry it’s too much :(
Carpet - mmmmmm kind of having a bad feet time here. Socks help a lot though
Wood - rough but not bad
Glass - smooth like a shark >:)
Water - warm is good but the second it gets room temp I gotta vamoosh. It’s freezing
Soap - icky but similar to the chamber goo, so manageable
Hair - why does my own hair feel weird? what the fuck? why have I never noticed that?
Fabric - cotton and polyester is fine. Anything with lace is too itchy, which fucking sucks because all my silk shit has lace on it. velvet is now on thin fucking ice. I can forgive denim because I know it would never hurt me on purpose
Barry - literally perfect do not fucking change a thing I’m so fucking serious. Barold I swear to fuck—
Hugs - yes love ‘em hello please give me many many hugs thank you :>
Bed - good, but needs more pillows
Taako - good, but please take off the lace I’m sorry it’s itchy :(
Couch - velvet, but Barry laid a cotton sheet over it, so we’re good for now
Taako’s cats - good
Magnus’ dogs - good
Merle’s plants - Merle do not fucking bring that fern in my vicinity! I will raze it, I’ll do it!
Magic casting - tinglier than I remember? Also exhausting, imma need to hold off on magic for a bit
Soup - soup :)
Herbal Tea - good but now the sprig of rosemary feels weird in my mouth :/
Family - perfect
Home - perfect
Life - good :3
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hope-drunk · 2 years
Text
- thoroughfare | e. williams
| on the way to seattle, you decide to play a small game with ellie.
| content warning: f!reader, bottom!reader, top!ellie, oral (r receiving), pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl), implies ellie is taller than reader, reader takes dina’s role in the game (sorry dina), hunter and prey kink but not really, barely proofread and i hate this <3
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Traveling through the woods with Ellie was more fun than you’d thought it would be. The long stretches on horseback felt like nothing when it was just you two talking. After you had found Jackson, albeit on accident, two years ago, you and Ellie became friends very quickly. 
You two tried not to talk about the trip you were taking. Once she came to you with a location, there was no question in your mind about whether or not you would go with her. So, here you are now. Arms wrapped along Ellie’s torso, enjoying the scenery, and giggling like a maniac at some pun she’s said.
Once the laughter dies down, Ellie helps you off Shimmer, then puts her by a stream.
“We should stop for the night. Get some rest.” she says, taking out her sleeping bag, and a shotgun.
“Okay, yeah.”  you say, following in her stride and getting your own sleeping bag out.
You were in a comfortable silence, setting up everything you needed to have a successful night.
“Do you want first or second shift?”  you asked her.
“I’ll do both, just sleep.”
You scoff at her, “Ellie, if you’re the one getting us to Seattle I think it’s important you get some rest.” She shakes her head at you. “Please, for me.”
Ellie can’t deny the look you give her, your eyes are laced with genuine concern for her well being. It hasn’t been easy for her, and you know she doesn’t like sleeping because it just brings back the memories, but you figure something is better than nothing.
“Alright, I’ll take first shift.” she says, knowing she’ll “accidentally” let you sleep longer than you intend to.
She’s standing now, and your once worried eyes are now crinkled by a smile. 
“Thank you, Ellie.”
“Whatever gets you there safely.” she replies, rubbing the inked fern covering her forearm.
“I’m gonna go look around while there’s still daylight, I need to stretch my legs.” you say, already starting to wander.
Ellie nods her head at you.
You don’t plan to go far, just enough to look at the different wildlife that lives out here. You walk around for about twenty minutes before Ellie calls your name.
“It’s getting too dark, come back.” she says. 
“Why don’t you come and find me?” you yell back to her.
You hear her grumble to herself, and let out a sigh, then you hear the crunch of leaves under her beaten up shoes. This is your sign to scramble. You run behind a tree, one with a large trunk and sagging branches. Peeking out from behind, you find Ellie’s face through the branches. Her head was whipping around for any sign of you. You put your hands over your face, having to stifle your laugh, trying not to give yourself away. When you removed the digits from your eyes, Ellie was gone.
Now it was your turn to whip your head around. Your heart was suddenly racing. You knew she wasn’t in danger, but you didn’t know the reaction she would have to your impromptu game of hide and seek.
You felt hands on your shoulders. “Got ya.” Ellie whispers in your ear.
You gasp and she whips you around to face her. Usually, Ellie had a face that would comfort you. Right now? You were a bit intimidated by her. It felt like she had grown six inches since you saw her moments before. Her eyes even looked darker in this light. You try to back away from her, but you don't get far before you hit the tree that was once protecting you from her. 
“Oh, first you’re hiding from me, now you’re trying t’run?” she says, moving impossibly closer to you. 
The game wasn’t funny to you anymore. Actually, it was incredibly serious, and that was proven by the wetness that you felt pooling in your panties.
“Just wanted to play a game, Ells.” you say, suddenly finding your shoes very interesting.
Grabbing your chin, she says, “Don’t tell me you’re all shy now.” She follows your eyes every time that you try to look away.
For a second, just a second, you thought she was actually mad. But you could see her lips fighting a smile. Leaning down towards you, her nose brushes against yours.
“Tell me you want this.” Ellie says, whispering like you were in a room full of people. 
“I want it.” 
Her lips are on yours as soon as you finish the sentence. The hand that was holding your chin has now moved to your cheek, thumb caressing your face tenderly. Your hips move to meet hers, back arching off the tree. Ellie gets the hint, and uses her spare hand to reach down between your bodies. She undoes your pant button with ease, and shoves her hand into your jeans. You gasp as she begins to rub your clit over your underwear. 
“Oh, Ellie.” you say while she moves her kisses to your neck.
“Don’t know why I’ve been waiting to do this.” she mumbles on your skin.
Stopping her assault on your neck, her hands smooth down your body before she practically rips your jeans and panties down to the ground. Her foot kicks your legs further apart before she drops to her knees in front of you. She runs a finger through your slick folds, humming in approval before diving in to taste you.
She sucks hard on your clit, causing your hand to move to her auburn hair, trying to steady yourself. Ellie sneaks a large hand up your shirt, toying with your nipple. You didn’t think you’d ever be this happy at forgetting to put a bra on. Her tongue was moving quickly through your folds. You look down at her, only to be met by her eyes. 
The moan you let out is almost pornagraphic, and you swear you can feel Ellie smirk into your cunt. Her position on the ground made it feel like she was praying to you, she was worshipping your cunt. 
Ellie comes up for a breath, thumb moving to rub your clit. “Taste so sweet, baby. Does it feel good?”
Your head nods on its own, which only causes Ellie to laugh. 
“Feels s’good. Wanted this for so long.” you say, breathless.
“Yeah? Wanted me to fuck you? How many times did you think about me eating your cute little pussy like this while we were talking, hm? Did you go t’sleep every night with wet panties?”
You let out a moan at her words and nod your head again, but that’s not enough for her. She gives your thigh a quick smack.
“Yes! Yes, thought about it all the time. Oh please, Ellie, wanna cum so bad.”
She moves her head back towards your cunt, eating you out impossibly faster. Your legs start to shake, signaling your approaching orgasm. You’re practically grinding on Ellie’s face at this point, and she doesn’t mind one bit. While you use her tongue to get yourself off, she thinks this may be the peak of her life.
“I’m– gonna…” you try to finish your phrase, but it’s no use. Ellie moans into your pussy, and that sends you flying. 
You’re sure your moans were loud enough to scare any wildlife away from you, and it took you awhile to even regain consciousness. When you did, Ellie was now standing in front of you again, trying to keep you propped up. You slouch into her chest while she rubs a hand up and down your back under your shirt.
“Shh… you’re alright, you’re alright pretty girl.” she coos. 
She pulls your pants up, figuring she’ll have something to clean you up with back with all your stuff. Ellie basically carries you back to your sleeping bag, and makes sure you’re all clean before tucking you in.
“Ellie.” you whine out, feeling her presence move away from you.
“I’ve got first shift, remember? Go to bed, baby. I’ll wake you up.”
You mumble what she thinks is a complaint, before turning over and curling into yourself. It’s not long before she hears your breaths get deeper. Rubbing a hand over her face, she grabs her gun of choice before standing guard not far from your sleeping body.
Of course, Ellie doesn’t wake you up till the morning. 
“I was supposed to take second shift!” you argue.
“You didn’t really seem in the position to keep watch, princess. Swear your legs were gonna give out if you had to stand for longer than ten seconds.” Ellie laughs out.
You turn red and let out a huff.
“C’mon, get on the horse. We can argue on the way.”
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diedbydeth · 5 months
Text
hey if you yell at a disabled person for being disabled, don’t be surprised when they or their friend yell back. just saying.
(@unicornsandgenocide yes this is referring to the incident that happened at our soccer practice today)
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vaporclan · 2 months
Text
Seriously, though. Putting Fernfreckle on a shelf and censoring him from the public's eyes until they can be normal about him is all fun and games but I gotta be serious for a second
Every single time Fernfreckle is angry, or says anything even remotely related to Beetlebud/his car injury, I get comments like "he should've moved" "he should have run away" or anything implying it's his fault he got hit by a car because he froze on the road
This was a 6 month old kitten, on his first day out of camp, with no clue what a car is, after being told by his mentor its safe. I wrote this scene with the intent of having a flawed character (Beetlebud) make a stupid mistake.
He's angry because he got half his body scraped raw, his eye popped out, his ear gone and he broke his jaw - because he was told it would be SAFE.
He is angry because he believes Beetlebud is not safe to be around children and brought 3 babies into the Clan despite the young cat death toll (he has been venting his frustrations with his StarClan buddies since his accident - this is explained later in the comic)
He is frustrated because they wanted to figure out how to fix the Clans before any new litters were brought in, because he KNOWS that cats dont usually live past a year old in this Clan.
What he is Not is a character who is an asshole just to be an asshole. And to spoil his whole arc because I'm tired, yes, he becomes less closed off and less of an asshole as time goes on. Because again, it's been less than a year.
It has been 9 MONTHS in the comic since Fern's injury - not even a year yet. We're still EXTREMELY early into this Arc and Fernfreckle's character in general.
You don’t have to like him - but its extremely odd that whenever anyone wants to criticise him they immediately turn to blaming him for the car accident. As a disabled writer writing a disabled character, this is really disheartening
Please, research what the Freeze response is. Have you never seen the Deer in the Headlights metaphor?
I just keep getting nasty comments every time Fernfreckle so much as opens his mouth, and the comments always get likes which implies people agree with them. I do not want people with a victim blamey mindset reading my comic.
Fernfreckle is going to be a main character throughout this arc. If you can't be normal about him, stop reading here. Im begging.
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bonefall · 8 months
Note
What kind of namer would you want Squirrelstar to be? I think you had her suggest Finchlight’s name which suggests she’s a GOOD namer, but what KIND of good namer would you want her to be ideally? Obviously it’s up to the Erins to some extent, but there’s always some flexibility in terms of framing!
If I was in charge of her names from here on out, she would make a serious effort to be very reverent of legacies being passed down through families while also acknowledging personal achievements. ThunderClan is currently in an era where it's REALLY missing Firestar, and trying to "reconnect" to that.
So Firekin is seeing a lot of heat and flame related names by default, Fernkin are looking at plant or cloud related ones. Most of these would be basic but meaningful, since apprentices don't tend to get into as much as they used to.
So for example, if Fernkit (canon: graykit) was just earning a pretty basic warrior name, he might just become Fernpuff (Fern-Fatcloud as opposed to Fern-Fastcloud like his namesake). But if he becomes a notable hunter, she would rather give him a name like Fernhawk, still sky-related but more focused on his hunting prowess.
Meanwhile, she's REALLY generous with the Honor Titles since Bramblestar was equally stingy. Stormcloud's finally getting Monsterscar like he's always wanted, if he can just find a big thing to do to justify it. If desired, she'd offer a title to Poppyfrost for creating the garden, to finally acknowledge her contribution. We'd see a return of names that reference scars and achievements.
SO I'm going to be trying to frame them in that way.
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forlorn-crows · 9 months
Note
More non-serious sex brainrot: Mountain casual fucking. Guy just needs to get off, y'know? It's been a hard day of manipulating the fabric of the earth itself and the big guy just needs to blow off some steam by blowing out someone's back. Or getting his own blown out.
Walks into the ghoul wing and propositions the first person he sees. And, of course, who wouldn't be willing to lend a hand to help a friend out?
uhhh well you see. he didnt even make it out of the greenhouse. so, as a reward for being the sweetie that he is, rain gets his back blown out
cw: theyr'e disgustingly in love. good ole' fashioned spontaneous sex. a lil bit of oral, a lil bit of dirty talk. hard and fast and needy, and thats how we like it. unexpected knotting (oopsies). and, as always, transmasc rain. cunt/clit/folds to refer to his anatomy.
Mountain sets the last of the hanging baskets back into place, sighing bodily. He rolls his neck, wincing at the little pops his spine makes. But he’s satisfied with his work—all the flowers and ferns pruned and their soil refreshed—and very glad to be done. 
The earth ghoul brushes the remainder of the soil off the workbench, finally allowing the stifled need in his core to roll up his spine and settle under his skin. He digs his claws into the wood and groans out loud. Curling in on himself when his dick starts to chub.
The door to the greenhouse squeaks open, chilly autumn air rolling in along with the scent of petrichor and sea salt. Mountain has to stop himself from whining at the fresh, intoxicating smell. 
“Hey, sunflower,” Rain says brightly, drifting in with a dancer’s grace. “Brought you some tea and snacks.” He sets a shallow bowl and mug down onto the bench, pressing himself to Mountain’s side and kissing him on the cheek. “Orange cinnamon chai,” he points to the steaming mug, resting his head on the earth ghoul’s shoulder, “and there,” he points at the bowl, “are figs, pears, and some brie drizzled with honey. ‘Cause I know that’s your favorite.”
Mountain chuffs and dips a finger into a smear of honey on the edge of the bowl. He sucks it off, looking down at Rain with lidded eyes. Admiring the way the wind ruffled up his inky curls, the slight lilac blush to his cheeks, the little smile he gives when Mountain makes a noise of approval. 
“Do I detect a hint of honeysuckle, tadpole?”
Rain feigns surprise, looking up at him coyly. “Maybe,” he lilts.
Mountain rumbles happily and leans in close. “Just as sweet as you.” He cradles the water ghoul’s face in his hand and kisses him deeply, melting their bodies together chest to chest. Groaning when Rain opens up immediately and lets him stick his honey-coated tongue inside. 
The earth ghoul lifts him effortlessly onto the top of the workbench, wrapping Rain’s legs around his waist and hugging him close, all without breaking the kiss. Rain trills happily and sinks into Mountain’s affection. He drapes his arms around his broad shoulders, fingers playing with the mousy-brown strands falling from his bun. The action sends a shiver down Mountain’s spine, and he can’t help but gasp softly against the water ghoul’s mouth. His fingers tighten into the knit of Rain’s sweater. 
“Feed me some?” Mountain mumbles against his lips. 
Rain smiles. “‘Kay.” He turns his head to select a morsel, giving Mountain access to the long column of his neck. Eager lips surge forward to latch onto the sensitive skin. Mountain can feel the amused rumble that bubbles up in his throat.
“Don’t eat me, silly,” he laughs. “Here.” He holds a slice of pear between lithe fingers, dangling it in front of his nose.
“What if I want to eat you,” Mountain purrs. But he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue for it anyway. He curls it around Rain’s lithe fingers when he places the fruit in his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as he licks across the pads of them. Chilled and sticky-sweet.
Rain makes a soft noise, letting Mountain lick them clean. 
“Do you like it?” Rain whispers, watching as the earth ghoul closes his mouth around the tops of his fingers before pulling away and chewing. Mountain watches Rain watch his mouth, eyes flitting around his pretty, angular face. 
He hums and licks a stray droplet of honey from his lips. “It’s delicious, darling. Thank you,” he says huskily, pulling Rain closer by the waist. Rain trills as he runs his palms across the small of his back, dipping just underneath his sweater. Mountain buries his nose in the collar of it and not-so-subtly humps his hips against the edge of the table. 
“But I think I fancy something else right now.” Mountain nuzzles under his ear. Rain’s scent spikes with arousal and he can’t hold back the desire any longer. “Wanted to bend you over this bench as soon as you walked in the door.”
Rain shudders and groans approvingly. “Yeah?”
“Say you’ll let me. Please? I’ve been aching.” Mountain licks up the side of his neck and sucks his earlobe into his mouth. Rolling it between his teeth while Rain hisses and grasps at Mountain’s hair. “Take you right here, fuck you so good.”
“Fuck yes,” Rain breathes. “Right here, please do.” 
Mountain doesn’t need any more permission than that. He growls playfully and promptly flips Rain onto his belly, bending him over the edge of the workbench and yanking his sweatpants down all in one motion. 
“Lucifer—” Rain gasps through a surprised giggle, lifting his tail over his shoulder. 
Mountain lands a smack to his right asscheek and grabs two handfuls of him, groaning at the sight of slick already seeping through his folds. He spreads his cheeks wide and sinks to his knees in the dirt, shoving his face in Rain’s cunt. 
“Satanas, Mount, oh fff,” the water ghoul moans, pounding his fist on the table. “Your fucking mouth, unholy shit.”
Mountain groans against him, shoving his tongue in as far as he can get it. Pressing his nose into that soft spot before his hole and taking in the concentrated smell of need that goes straight to his rock-hard dick. 
“Taste like absolute sin, tadpole,” Mountain mumbles against his folds, too drunk on his flavor to stray too far to say so. 
“You can stay down there as long as you want,” Rain chokes out as he seals his lips over his throbbing clit. “Suck me dry, seven hells.”
The earth ghoul just hums, suckling on it until his nose gets wet with slick and Rain’s panting above him. Digging into his round ass so hard he’s bound to leave marks. But he doesn’t take him up on the offer, pulling away after a few heated moments. 
“Wanted to make sure you were nice and wet for me,” he all but growls. “Gonna fill you up so full.”
Rain whines and peeks over his shoulder, eyes drooping in pleasure. He wiggles his hips as he watches Mountain strip his apron, arching his back to make sure he gets a perfect eyeful. 
Mountain licks his lips as he pulls himself out of his pants, not bothering to push them any further than past his balls—just enough to expose his aching length. He grips himself and teases Rain’s folds with the head of his cock, up and down until he’s coated in creamy slick. 
“Fuck, look at you,” Mountain whines. “So perfect. All afternoon, I’ve needed this. Needed you.”
Rain pushes back, popping the head of his cock right inside. Mountain has to stop himself from blowing right there, steadying himself with one hand on Rain’s hip and groaning when his balls draw up with no warning. 
“Show me how perfect. Take me,” the water ghoul begs sweetly, breathlessly. 
Mountain can’t wait any longer. He pushes all the way in, melding their hips together. Growling low as Rain squeezes around him and breathes out little yesyesyes’s, urging Mountain to snuggle into that space made just for his cock. The earth ghoul’s forehead drops between Rain’s shoulder blades as he bottoms out, keening at just how good he feels. 
Mountain tells him as much. Rumbles endless praise into the fibers of his sweater, the curls at the back of his neck. Shuddering as Rain arches back into him and digs his fingers into the wood. 
“So perfect,” Mountain mumbles again, beginning to move. The first real slide of his length against those smooth, silky inner walls makes his mind hazy with need. He doesn’t get more than one slow thrust before he’s fucking Rain in earnest, wrapping his arms around his hips and forcing him to take it deep. 
“Mine,” he growls over the lewd sound of skin slapping skin. 
“Yours,” the water ghoul cries. “Oh, fuck me, ye-e-es-ss.” 
Mountain digs into his slim hips. Holding him tight so Rain feels the tip of his cock all the way in his stomach with each thrust.
“Feel so good,” the earth ghoul grunts. Rain clenches around him and he nearly sees stars. “Lucifer, take it, take it.”
Rain just nods, gurgles out something incoherent. Words aren’t important to Mountain anymore, though, not really. He just needs the water ghoul to make pretty noises, soak his cock in slick, and take every inch of him until he can spill inside him hot and fast. Siphon the burning need out of his core so he can actually relax after working all day. 
“Mount,” Rain gasps. “So deep, unholy shit.”
“Yeah? Gonna give it to you,” he growls, snapping his hips even harder. Each time their hips meet, there’s a little resistance at the base of Mountain’s cock, spikes of pleasure running through his hips and down his thighs with each thrust. He realizes too late it’s his knot, swelling and bumping against Rain’s folds. Growing bigger by the minute until it’s impossible to ignore.
“Hmpf, Rain I—” Another shudder runs through him, white-hot and insistent. He snarls. “Please, let me—fuck—need to put it in.”
Rain drops his forehead to the worktable with an audible thunk, groaning as he presses back against his knot. “Uh huh,” he whines. 
“Tell me I can, please, darling, tell me I can.”
“Put it iiinnn, Mount—hah—gimme it, need it.”
Mountain nearly sobs with relief. “So good to me, so fucking good to me,” he babbles. “Just need a little—that’s it, seven hells, Rainy.”
The water ghoul arches as far as he can, letting Mountain fully support his hips with just his forearms. Each thrust pushes more and more of his knot in, until finally Rain’s cunt stretches around its widest point and sucks him right in. Popping in with a wet squelch and the daintiest oh Mountain’s let out yet. 
“Fuck—”
“So good, squeeze it, squeeze it—”
“—yeah—”
“—cumming, cumming, Rain oh—”Mountain spills deep inside with fangs latched in his mate’s sweater, and he swears he’ll do anything Rain wants once he’s spent.
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goddessmelon · 1 year
Text
Lawrence Oleander x (gender neutral) Reader- Tease
CW: Teasing, sexual content, touching, restraining, oral sex
You went too far.
It’s a Saturday night… though probably late enough to be more like a Sunday morning. You know because it’s one of his nights off. Rain falls lightly against the building, and you kneel to peer out the window to watch droplets slide down the window, heaving a soft sigh of boredom to yourself. A few feet from you, your captor, provider, twisted-love interest (but oh, what are labels?) sits on the floor, his lower back propped up against the metal and mattress of his shoddy futon, and hunched over a thick book. It’s an encyclopedia of some sort that you’ve seen him read from before, the pages lightly water damaged but the bleeding colors not bothering him at all. You watch him as his eyes trail across the page slowly, fixing on an image here and there, his fingers idly tracing the shapes on the paper including the areas that bled. You think you can even catch a hint of a smile here and there. 
You can’t help but love moments like these; Lawrence wasn’t exactly a relaxed individual. Ever since he decided to keep you, even after breaking one of your legs and the other foot in a fit of what he considered love and protection, he still seemed constantly on edge by one thing or another: you, work, the outside world, or whatever else went on in his constantly brewing headspace. Seeing him relaxed was nice in a way, but deep down, a slightly meaner part of you wanted to take that mild tranquility away from him yourself, just as he took it away from you all too often. It wasn’t a good idea but… where did all your good ideas get you anyway? He was totally unpredictable. And sitting around with nothing to do, you felt like testing the waters. 
So, you sit against the wall to face him fully, holding your head up in your hands and holding a smile. For a while he’s too entranced in his literature to notice, but before he turns a page he looks at you. His lazy eyes meet yours and widen instantly, darting to the floor at your feet as if the eye contact alone equated to touching a burning stove momentarily. His face instantly looks a little flushed and he presses his lips in a fine line. “Stop that,” he says in a voice that must have meant to sound decisive but in reality came out a tad shaky.  
“What?” you ask innocently, still looking at his eyes through his downturned lashes. He looks up at you again to check if you had listened to him but upon seeing that you did not, turns to instead look back at his book, his face burning even brighter than before. 
“Y-You… you know what!” he sounds frustrated, flustered, voice rising just a bit before falling into silence again. 
“I just think you look pretty,” you say honestly, smiling again though sweating a bit internally. You never know what makes him flip. 
“Don’t.” He presses his forehead into the palm of his hand, sounding genuinely upset, yet still red in the face. He sounds serious enough for you to drop it though… for now. 
But you have some ideas of ways to make him tick. Frankly, it didn’t seem to even matter what you did and what you believed to be something “good” or “bad” for him. Obedience, silence, and acceptance were generally what he needed from you but even then, too much of a good thing drew him to scary extremes. Where would this bring him? 
So you let him read, but after a few minutes, he exhales sharply and closes the book, standing up swiftly. He must not be able to focus anymore. It wasn’t uncommon for the scatterbrained lunatic to drop something the second it no longer “felt right.” He goes into the kitchen abruptly and starts to brew something- you hear the water running as you watch his back while he works quietly. In the meantime you end up looking at his plant book yourself, flipping through the photos and diagrams idly. This page on poppies is pretty well loved… you notice a dogear and pull it open to a section on ferns. Some stuff about true leaves… reproduce through spores… a set of diagrams…whatever. 
Soon enough, he’s walking back over to you, two cups of steaming liquid in his hands. He sits on the bed this time, his legs a few feet from your head, and holds out one of the cups. “I… want to go to sleep soon,” he says, offering the drink to you. You recognize the familiar scent of lavender radiating from the liquid as you gingerly take the cup from him, alongside something else you couldn’t put your finger on. He’s been making both of you simple herbal teas rather than whatever it was before now that you were somewhat settled in, for lack of a better term. Probably still not completely legal in terms of ingredients, but it wasn’t something that would knock you out on the spot. 
You nod in response as you start drinking the tea, enjoying the lightly sweetened mix with what was probably a little bit of honey. Still kind of bitter, but it was a flavor that was growing on you. In between sips you peer over at him, watching as he stares forward with dull eyes as he downs the hot liquid, as if the temperature hardly bothers him. With another mischievous thought, you scoot slightly over and lean onto his legs. He jumps at first, gulping down what he had in his mouth, but after a quick look at you doesn’t make an effort to move. He seems stiff, though. Even though you’ve been physically intimate before, he can never seem to calm down, unless he is the one initiating. It’s cute, in a way… and it’s why you feel this sudden urge to tease him. When he’s looking away again, you reach an arm up and begin to trail it down his thigh lightly, only to yelp when he grabs your wrist, hard, holding up your arm with little effort as he stares at you. You can feel his glare even as you look away with a whimper. Realizing your pain, he drops your wrist and you let your arm fall weakly to the floor. For a moment you both just sit there quietly, until you break the silence. “It’s okay, you didn’t hurt me.”
You look at each other shortly, before he replies quietly. “I… don’t know what you’re… nnn…” Your gaze trails down his body to the obvious tent forming in his sweatpants. When he notices where your eyes are, he clears his throat and puts his hands in his lap to hide it, eyebrows furrowed and face flushed again. 
Before giving him the chance to do anything else, you start to limp-crawl away toward the bathroom. “Well! I’ll be getting ready for bed!” you stammer awkwardly. You can’t see if he reacts any further since you quickly shut the door behind you then climb to sit on the toilet, breathing heavily. God, he was so easy to mess with, but you were afraid of what the consequences of your actions could be. After all, taking it out on you wasn’t ideal with how rough and insensitive he was but… you shook your head as you pictured his flushed face again. You couldn’t help but want to see where this went. Removing the unholy thoughts from your head, you start to freshen up, brushing your teeth and washing your face. 
After enough time to calm yourself down and what you hope is enough time for him, you push open the door to find him standing there before you, causing you to make a surprised noise. Unphased, he holds out a large t-shirt toward you, watching your hands. “Here… it’s clean.” It was not an unusual act; since you mentioned once that his clothes were comfortable, he’s been giving you a pair most nights to sleep in and washing what you came in that first day occasionally enough for you to continue wearing during both of your odd waking hours.  
You take the oversized clothing and thank him in a soft voice, quickly changing into the shirt as usual and… also as usual, asking him about the shorts in his other hand, “can you help me?” 
Normally, he didn’t think anything of it, and since he didn’t, eventually, neither did you. He loves when you need his help with things, and while you probably can do it yourself at this point, he never let you after the first time he watched you struggle and in pain over your freshly broken bones. He always thinks he knows you better and, at this point, you just ask because you can tell it makes him happy. 
But today, with still a blush over his face, he looks reluctant. 
“I… can do it myself,” you start to say, noticing him standing there unmoving.
“No, you can’t,” he says, quickly moving to his usual position on his knees before you. With you looking at the wall and him at the ground, you both go through your usual act of you shimmying out of your pants while he helps pull it off your legs so you don’t have to bend down and then delicately placing your legs into the new pantholes. Today, though, it’s much more tense. You’re blushing, and so is he. Shit, you didn’t even have to try with this one, but now it was weird for you too. Even when it’s said and done, he stands up and clutches his arm with that same uncomfortable energy as before. You hear him swallow loudly as he appears to debate something internally. “I can… b-bring you to bed… so you don’t have to, um,” he gestures toward your legs.
Of course, you could still sort of crawl by only putting weight on the unbroken knee and, as much as he enjoyed to see you struggle without him sometimes, sometimes he was offering (actually, usually skipping the asking part) to carry you to where you needed to go, whenever he was in a mood.
Tonight is apparently one of those nights, and so when you nod your head, he sheepishly hooks one arm under your legs and another under your back and carefully hoists you up off of the toilet. You bury your face into him so as to not have to meet eyes and can feel his heart pounding for the few seconds he takes to bring you over to his futon. His hand squeezes your thigh as he involuntarily shudders before bending over to place you down in your spot beside the wall and climbing in next to you. With no room for personal space and no desire to give you any, he wraps his arms around you tightly, tighter than usual, and you listen to his heavy breathing. Silently, you press in closer to him, grazing his crotch with your butt “unintentionally” and intertwining your non-broken leg with one of his. You notice his breathing becoming raggedy and pretend not to notice any other changes your action causes. When he doesn’t move, you whisper your goodnights with a racing heart yourself, and eventually are able to fall asleep with the help of the tea. 
-----------------
When you wake up, Lawrence is sleeping like the dead behind you, quietly breathing against your ears. Turning around in his now loosened grip and propping yourself up by an elbow, you survey his sleeping face. He looks peaceful, but the dark circles stamped against his eyes darker than normal have you wondering how much he even slept at all. His hair was messy, his lips were bitten, and on top of that…
You look down under the covers to try to determine if what you thought was pressing into your stomach was what you thought it was, or just his hip bone. Not being able to see much, you slowly, rather shyly, dive a hand into the sheets to confirm… and your stomach turns over when you feel him hard in his sleep. Very lightly, you run a few fingers along their landing point back to your stomach, until, to your dismay, his eyes snap open. Lawrence shoots to an upright position and when you start to let out a startled shriek, one of his hands flies to your mouth and the other grabs both of your wrists, forcing you to drop to your back against the mattress. His pupils shake as he stares at you, his face burning. But it wasn’t just from shyness, he looked angry. “Y-You! I’ve had enough of this! I…” he shakes his head and releases the hand against your mouth. “I-I haven’t been able to sleep, or just… fucking… relax, because of you.” Hearing him curse startled you, not that he never did it, but he must have genuinely been pissed off.   
“I…” you start, as if to apologize, but he suddenly gets up and, grabbing your shoulders, forces you upright and glares down hard at you. He then looks toward the chair in the center of the room, and your heart sinks. “W-Wait!”
Lawrence ignores your protest and easily lifts you out of the bed under your arms to roughly place you down in the wooden chair. You know better than to fight back as he tapes your ankles and wrists to the chair, and can’t help but wince with the little care he applies to your poorly “healed” leg and foot. When he gets back to his feet, he looms above you looking calmer, albeit still frustrated, with a thoughtful look on his face. “Th-then… we’ll just see how you like it… when you, err, I-” he groans, as if trying to say what he wanted was a challenge. 
You feel the tension in your shoulders loosen when he proclaims his intentions. He looks… vengeful? But the violent glint in his eyes that’s usually there when you find yourself in the chair isn’t there. 
He doesn’t say anything else as he stands, as if calculating what to do, then smirks slightly. He double checks that your arms are sealed and quickly dips around the corner with purpose. “Lawrence?” you call out softly, and though he doesn’t say anything, he quickly comes back before you with some kind of bandage wrap in his hands. “..What’s that for?”
Not answering your question, he bends down to your level and, looking past your gaze, starts wrapping the soft material around your head at eye level, effectively blindfolding you. Again, you call out, “what are you doing? Lawrence?”
Feeling slightly anxious with your sight taken away, you don’t feel any better when the only response given to you is a thoughtful hum as Lawrence stands somewhere before you. After a few moments of the following silence, you start to feel his cold, clammy hands, running through the hair not behind the thick bandage. Your breath catches in your throat as one starts to trail down your neck in a featherlight touch, gasping when his fingernails eventually graze your shoulder. His other hand runs down the side of your face and stops at your lips. His thumb and forefinger grasp gently at them and you swallow. For a moment, he allows your saliva to just barely wet his thumb as his other hand runs down your arm to grasp your own, lifted just slightly against the tight tape. He rubs circles into your palms in a way that can only be described as sensual, and when you start to softly pant against the tip of his thumb, he sighs contentedly.
“I know what makes you tick,” he says finally, decidedly. Both hands lower further to your chest, though still clothed, and he gives your nipples a gentle squeeze through the fabric. You let out a yelp, much to his supposed satisfaction, as this makes him momentarily squeeze a little harder before releasing you fully. 
“And I’m not done yet… I want you to…” he struggles to find the right words. “I want you to know h-how it feels.” The way he puts it is negative, but you only hope for him to touch you more. Your insides were fluttering from his carefully calculated strokes and grasps. You wonder if he had wanted you to touch him more, too, though knew he’d never admit it if it were the case. In the end he was taking out his frustrations on you. And you couldn’t help but want more of it. 
You open your mouth as if to say something but quickly stop when you feel Lawrence’s hands grip your sides just above your hips. His hands roam as they hike up your shirt just slightly, and you shudder as you feel him drag his fingers across the skin of your belly by the nails. He must be kneeling at this point but you can’t seem to get a feel for where he is while focusing so intently on his touch. You bite your lip when his hands drop lower, running over your thighs and then moving inward to your nether regions. You start to gasp slightly, “Lawr-”
He quickly covers your mouth and coos, “shh, just relax.” When you nod your head, he begins to palm your most sensitive area, definitely noticing the evidence of your arousal even through your clothing. When you whimper into his hand, he begins to press harder, rubbing you up and down rhythmically yet never dipping inside your clothing. You try to get his attention but he doesn’t uncover your mouth and continues to tease you from the outside, methodically testing your limits. When the mix of pleasure and intense desire for more becomes dizzying, he finally releases the hand blocking your mouth and, lightening his touches on your lower areas to gentle strokes, leans in so that you can feel his breath on your neck. “How does it feel? How does it feel to b-be messed with like this?” he interrogates you though never lets up, awaiting your answer.
“G-Good,” you moan out, bucking your hips further into his hand as much as the chair will allow you, feeling controlled by arousal brought upon you. “Please… I want…”
But before you can finish talking, he removes himself from you again, much to your dismay. You can hear the sound of metal clinking softly as well as the subtle movement of fabric. No time is given to you to ask anything more before he starts to cut the tape off of your legs swiftly, followed by your wrists. As soon as you’re freed he pulls you out of the chair by your underarms and places you on your knees, leaving the blindfolding bandages around your eyes. You wince at the weight placed onto your hurt leg, but when you instinctively try to lower your body he straightens you back up and mutters something about staying still. Then he pinches your nose and, when you open your mouth to breathe, feel his long, throbbing cock push into your mouth, causing you to let out a surprised garble against him. He moves to hold your head in his hands as he continues stuffing himself down your throat until your nose brushes against the hairs of his crotch, making it difficult for you to breathe. You weakly take in air through your nose, sex still throbbing, and he speaks to you again in a wistful voice. “You… you take my breath away. S-Sometimes, it’s hard to deal with. So now…” his voice stays matter-of-fact. “I’ll take away yours.” 
Gripping your head securely, he starts to rock his hips against you, thrusting himself in and out of your mouth slowly, at first, but very quickly picking up the pace, though never pulling out enough to let you take in a breath. His fingers tousle your hair as he scrambles to find a place to grab onto as he continues to plunge his dick down your throat repeatedly, his breathing becoming more irregular by the second. Your eyes water and the desire to gag plagues you, but your body isn’t given the chance. 
Feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen, you use your free arms to try to push him away, but he only responds by pushing even harder, moaning quietly above you. “Don’t… stop…” he breathes out in a heated pant, though leaving you no choice in the matter either way, his body rolling into you again and again. His hold on your head gets harder, pulling at your hair painfully. He ignores the tears that roll down your face from the intensity of his movements and the pain it’s causing you. His breath hitches as you notice his thrusting becoming more needy and erratic. You keep trying to breathe, struggling against him still, fearing that he may actually cause you to pass out. He must be getting close, and with what effort you could muster to get him there faster, you stroke your tongue along the underside of his cock as it slides through your mouth. He gasps out loud, provoking you to work harder, tears still falling from your eyes and collecting with drool that drizzled from your mouth around his massive size in what must be a horribly messy scene, but all you can focus on was trying to get him to finish, and the way it was making you feel. 
Lawrence’s moaning and gasping sounds grow louder and you feel his manhood become even stiffer than it already was. He was moving in strokes as long and fast as he could get. The man pounding into your mouth gave you no warnings as he bottomed out in your throat, pulling your head against him as far as it could go just before his cock started to throb as he came to a shuddering orgasm. Your stomach lurched as he came heavily down your throat, gasping for breath. His knees buckled as he finished, and he stayed in that position until the throbbing fully stopped. With a contented sigh, he pulls himself out from your mouth and continues to gently hold your head up as you start coughing and sputtering, gasping for air. Your arousal now even greater than before, you moved a hand to grasp at him yourself, but he let you go and took a step back. 
“Lawrence,” you moan, still breathing intensely. “Please, I need you to…”
“I have to go,” he says over you, seeming to have collected himself already. He spoke in a self satisfied manner, as he continued, “I need to… get some things from the store before work.” He brushes sweat-slick hair from your face gently, and coos, “you’ll be okay.”
“W-Wait, but I-” you start, but he comes around and takes a hold of your wrists from behind and begins to tape them together behind your back.
“You won’t need these, either,” he hums, preventing any way for you to be able to touch yourself when he leaves. You grind hopelessly against your good foot with a needy cry, but the only sound you can hear is the opening and closing of the apartment door behind him. He leaves you kneeling on the floor, blindfolded with tied wrists, with no indication of when he’d be back. 
You knew it before, but he ground it into you this time. Lawrence was a grudge-holder, and he always got his revenge.
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ragnar0c · 7 months
Text
Frieren used to get her head patted by Flamme. It happens a few times in the anime so far and she doesn't rebuke her typical "don't pat my head" like she does when Heiter and others try too.
On the topic of Heiter, he often patted Frieren. At least like once in every serious conversation they had. So he expressed his affection that way a lot.
So Frieren patting Fern's head is not only just a cute thing, but it's a cute thing her master user to do to her AND something Heiter has likely done for Fern too.
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