#he look gorg but don't tell him i said that
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sunwoo ig update (241011)
#sunwoo#kim sunwoo#the boyz#tbz#eritual#vivitual#ninqztual#useroro#tuserflora#lookwwill#001#henna edits!#i'm seriously so not feeling well#tmi but i got my period today this is so dangerous to me....#also i edited these pics bc i saw so much potential with the lighting and i was right 🙂↕️#he look gorg but don't tell him i said that
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Could you consider doing a fwb reader who refuses to be with them because she thinks that they are so toxic (but they are pinning over her HARD because i like my men obsessive over me)
(also i said "they" because i didnt knew who to pick 😭 but this just screams lestat or armand)
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The hunt
˚。⋆ lestat de lioncourt x black!fem!reader x armand
in which neither lestat nor armand can keep their eyes off box one
You joined the theatre after watching your maker burn to a crisp. Truth be told you would have done him in yourself had they not stepped in. He was ancient and delirious, you were a pretty face plucked from the slums.Wrong place at the wrong time led you to several years of torture shackled to his side. You posed as his distant relative, some nights you were his niece, other's his heiress bastard.
And in return you lived a comfortable life of luxuries. It was bearable, you no longer had to scrape for food or warmth nor shelter. Yet none of that mattered did it?
Though you had to bear his unwarranted advances, his unwanted pet names, it all made your skin crawl. Sharing his bed was a rare occassion, but you made sure he was drunk on blood to manage those nights better. Anything to satiate his loneliness and perserve the little dignity you had left.
Tonight he said he needed to attend to his affairs, leaving you to explore the city. A rare treat that you savored in all of its glory. You made unnecessary purchases on his account. New gowns, shoes and fans, head pieces for the upcoming season and gatherings to come. You drained the dressmaker, a fop, and made arrangements with a singer of the opera for the next night.
When you arrived to your Paris manor to find it in shambles and the man burning amidst it all, all you could do was sigh and use his flames to light the cigarette while you watched him turned to ash. Perhaps you were dizzy from the two you consumed, but you felt like you were on a cloud. As though you were outside of your body watching him crymble to dust.
You hardly flinched when the carriage boy screamed for help, at least you asume it was for help he was speaking in french.
What were you to do now? His accounts were already settled in my name, but I liked this home. Now I'll have to replace my belongings, find new lodging, how burdensome.
"Your maker is no more fledgling," his presence startles you but you stand your ground against the elder now standing at your side. Honeyed eyes watching you concealed behind false glasses but he is amused by how you stand your ground. How you don't flinch as his children gorge themselves ont he carriage boy whose wails are quickly silenced.
"I can see," you tap the ashes into the flames. "I was not made aware more of us were in this world. He always as though we alone held the Gift." Arman's eyes train upon you, reading and looking through every memory. And he finds you are in fact right. Dragged into the manors chambers you are locked and groomed there until you cracked.
"Your maker like many wanted you in the dark, fledgling," his eyes soften as you nod. There is emptiness in your eyes, like you are here yet your mind is far away. "He violated the ancients laws, disrespected my coven and reaped the consequences of his choices. He was given multiple chances to make himself known and atone for his actions."
"Coven?" Now he has your attention. You step up to him careful if you were next on this vendetta. "He never told me about laws or covens. Just said to tell him if I saw any more of us in the shadows, he moved around a lot between his homes. I smelled them, but I was too bored to tell the pig."
He should have known. You shed not a single tear for your maker when his children descended upon the maddened vampire. All you could think of was no longer having to deal with him anymore. No longer were you forced to share his coffin, feel his disgusting hands. Armand felt your disgust, it churned his stomach of the images of your Maker.
He saw himself in your eyes. You and him were one in the same. Two broken souls forced into this life, yet you adapted well just as he. A hunger to learn more is clear in your thoughts. He holds his hand to you, "come. Join us. And I can guarantee you will not suffer the same fate."
You stare at his hand, discarding the cigarette next to you. "Will I truly?"
"Yes, come." There was a softness to his voice. You brought a nurturing side out to him he never knew was there. As he guided you back to the theatre, not once did his hand leave yours. You would spend the first night in his coffin, just in case he did try and kill you.
Armand presents you in front of the coven the following night. You found them off putting, but you would grow used to their presence. All eccentric and coy. From across the world and living many lifetimes. You would adapt just as you did when you were once human.
"Lestat De Lioncourt, one of our actors and founding members," you bow your head to him but he takes your hand in his pressing a kiss to your hand.
"Will this beauty be joining us on stage Armand?"
"No, she will observe with me for the time being until she finds her place and completes her intiation."
The blonde groans looking upon you with a twinkle in those blue eyes, "Ah maitre, it is sin to hide such a beautiful face." He flashes you a cheeky smile which you quickly brush aside, merely offering him a nonchalant tilt of your head. "You would do good to perform on the stage sweet one. The crowds will be in compete awe."
"And I hope you put that charm to use on stage Mr.Lioncourt" you retort stepping back beside Armand. "And you'd do well to keep your hands to yourself, surely your master taught you that?"
"You have a bite in you fledgling, don't lose it."
French boys. You can only shake your head turning on your heel.
They were all the same. Flowery words, thoughts of lust and poetry. Philosophy. But this blonde beauty, this one was different. No thoughts of heaven or hell, evil and good. No his thoughts intrigued you. A hedonistic vampire, he was different from the prudish man you grew beneath.
Perhaps this French boy would appease your appetites.
The first year you find yourself being a production assistant of some sort to Armand. You have your own quarters in the theatre. Filled with your gowns, jewels, your riches. You offer him input in changes, or adjusting scenery in his scripts when need be. Always sitting in box one of the performances, eyes watching yet your hand moves quickly at anything that is the slightest bit off.
He won't admit it out loud but he felt you were the fledgling he was meant to make. Not your old maker.
His affections grew into something else. Was it romantic? No, vampires felt more than just human emotion. This was supernatural. Primal. As he sat in the box, he watched your gaze upon Lestat. You sat up straighter eyes wide with pride and excitement. One of the rare moments where your hand was still.
He wanted you to look at him like that.
"He's off script again," Armand clicks his tongue, he looks over to you. He's expectant that you will agree as you did any other night.
"Yes, but don't you think it sounds better this way. Less boring if you ask me. Let the sweet French boy have this night."
"It would had he done it during rehearsals." His eyes watch as your fiddle with the cuffs of your gown. He takes your hand into his own, now he has your eyes which look up at him.
"Yes?"
"Nothing, I just wanted your eyes for a moment fledgling."
"Are you growing soft Armand?" You smirk up at him, sitting up and tilting your head as to suggest you were to kiss him which he anticipates.
"The next act is starting, maitre," you whisper situating yourself to watch the performance. His eyes open, looking now to the stage, where Lestat bows smirking up at the box as you stand to join the applause.
You pace back and forth in front of Lestat who reads from his script. The coven look as dead as their hearts, the poor diva couldn’t get his line. He had been slacking lately as death, and he needed to improve for the upcoming performance.
You wouldn’t admit it, but he played death well. He was as vicious as death. But you needed death to have romance to it. Death was as beautiful as he was fearsome. We all must face it, it steals, it seduces, but int he end Death never leaves epty handed. Hence, why you believe Lestat plays death well.
"Come now Lestat as though you are in love!" Armand exclaims. He reads the line again but it sounds more...harsh than loving. You can see it upon the woman who steps in as your victim for the night. Her lip is turned up similar to your own. Poor thing, you shake your head now standing to your feet to approach the stage.
"Lestat surely you bedded enough women to know how to speak sweet love. Speak as though you wish to lure her, to drink her lust and her blood." You look up at him, he looks down upon you and in one big swoop pulls you to the stage by your free arm.
"My bounty is as boundless as the sea," he whispers it tenderly, his hand cups your cheek the other still holding the script in hand though his eyes are trained upon yours.
"My love as deep; the more I give to thee. The more I have, for both are infinite." He is closer now, head tilted as though he were to lay a passionate kiss upon your lips. "How was that, sweet one?"
"Better, now do it with your bride of death tonight." You whisper using your hands to push away from your chest. Walking past him into the wings hoping that he did not see the moment of vulnerability in your eyes.
Armand can't help but watch as you write at your desk, beside the new set of perfumes and fans he recently gifted you. Though you affectionately treasure the fountain pen he had your initials engraved upon. He watches your lips move slowly with the words on the pages. Your French has improved with his assistance. But you slip up, speaking in poor dialect as he calls it.
Poor dialect does not suit beautiful lips he tells you over and over. Therefore he takes it upon himself to spend the few moments before the sun rises reading with you.
He feels a presence all too familiar behind him and fights the snarl on his lips and he doesn't need to turn his head to know who now stands behind him.
"Shouldn't you be practicing your lines, puce."
"My apologies maitre," Lestat speaks in false humility bowing his head. "I wished to practice them with-"
"Unnecessary. I will be speaking with her regarding the performances and coven matters. Check with one of the children, surely another can play your bride well enough.”
“Ahh yes,” Lestat hums with that boyish grin. Taking a bold step to stand beside Armand, who continues to watch your hand move with quickness across one of his scripts.
They don’t know, but you listen. You hear their thoughts and voices from outside of your door. Desires to have you as their own. You know it. Felt it the moment both men entered your lives.
But no longer will you be held captive by another man’s desires. No, the fates of their hearts shall be in the palm of your hand this time. You have tasted freedom and felt what control has felt for once. Who were you to let it slip from your fingers now? You give them your eyes looking at them both now.
You smile, Lestat happily returns it. Armand merely bows his head to enter. He clearly has told Lestat something because he is gone in an instant.
For now, you’ll indulge them. Let them think they are winning. It’s fun when your food is unaware. That is what Armand tells you during one of your hunts. It makes the blood sweeter, and the hunt more invigorating.
Thus begins the hunt.
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pairing: bf(yunho) x fem(gf y/n)
rating: ignore the warnings,this ones really wholesome😚😚
genre:some angst ,FLUFF,nice and cutesy
Word count:835
Summary:yunho shows his insecure wifey some loving
warnings: MDNI-All characters in my stories are 18+,a lot of my work contains taboo?Genres so if your triggered by that please don't read,probably contains cursing
Y/N stood in front of the full-length mirror in their shared apartment, her hands trembling as she adjusted the hem of the sleek black dress. She had been so excited to surprise Yunho for his birthday, envisioning his face lighting up when he saw her in something so bold, so sexy. But now, staring at herself under the harsh glare of the overhead light, she felt anything but sexy.
Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. The dress hugged her curves in all the wrong places—or at least that’s how it felt to her. Her stomach seemed too prominent, her thighs too wide, and her shoulders...
“God, why did I even think this was a good idea?” she muttered to herself, her voice cracking.
She wanted to cry, but she also felt so damn stupid. She had hyped this moment up in her head for weeks, imagining Yunho’s reaction. He’d be shocked, sure. But not for the reasons she hoped.
A knock on the door startled her. “Babe? You in there?” Yunho’s deep voice was muffled, but still warm and familiar.
“Yeah,” she called back quickly, trying to steady her voice. “Just... give me a minute.”
There was a pause, and she could practically feel him hesitating. Then the doorknob rattled. “I’m coming in.”
“No, wait—!” she protested, but it was too late. Yunho stepped into the room, his broad shoulders nearly filling the doorway, his soft brown eyes immediately locking on hers.
“What’s—” He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze dropping to the dress. His eyes widened slightly, and then a slow, lazy grin spread across his face. “Well, damn. You look—”
“Don’t.” Her voice was sharp, almost desperate. She turned away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t lie to me, Yunho. I know I look awful.”
“What?” His grin faltered. He stepped closer, his brows knitting together. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“This stupid dress,” she snapped, her voice thick with frustration. “I thought it would look good, but I look ridiculous. I look... I don’t even know. Like a damn sausage stuffed into—”
“Stop.” Yunho’s voice was firm, cutting through her self-deprecation like a knife. He reached for her hand, gently but insistently turning her to face him. “Stop talking about yourself like that.”
She tried to pull away, but he didn’t let go. “Yunho, I’m serious—”
“So am I,” he said, his voice softening but no less intense. “Y/N, you’re fucking gorgeous. I don’t care what you think you see in that mirror, because what I see? Is the sexiest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Her eyes welled up with tears, but she shook her head. “You’re just saying that—”
“Bullshit,” he cut her off, stepping closer. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her gently but firmly against him. “When have I ever lied to you? Huh? Tell me one time.”
She didn’t answer, her throat too tight with emotion.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, his lips curving into a small, teasing smile. “Baby, I mean it. Look at you. You’re killing me right now. I don’t even know if I can wait until my actual birthday to celebrate, if you know what I mean.”
She let out a choked laugh despite herself, swatting his arm. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re stunning,” he countered, his tone earnest again. “I know you don’t see it right now, but trust me. This dress? It’s perfect. You’re perfect. And if you’re still worried about how it looks, let me just tell you—” He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “—I can’t stop picturing taking it off you later.”
Her face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and warmth spreading through her. “Yunho!”
“What? I’m just being honest,” he said, grinning. “Now, are you going to let me enjoy my birthday with my absolutely gorgeous girlfriend, or do I need to keep convincing you how sexy you are?”
She bit her lip, her heart swelling as she looked into his eyes. “You really think I look okay?”
“Okay?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Babe, you look like a goddamn dream. And if anyone else thinks otherwise, they can fuck off, because I know what I’ve got.”
She laughed again, the tension in her chest easing just a little. “You’re such an idiot.”
“Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “And I’m crazy about you, Y/N. Dress or no dress.”
Finally, she smiled—really smiled—and leaned into him. “Thank you, Yunho.”
“Always,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her. “Now, come on. Let’s go show off my sexy girlfriend. And after dinner, we can come back here and...” He trailed off, winking.
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re perfect,” he said again, his voice full of love.
And for the first time that night, she almost believed him.
#kpop#ateez au#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez reactions#ateez#yunho#jeong yunho#yunho smut#yunho imagines
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cale with an s/o that's mothers so hard (coos at the averaging 9 year olds, bakes/cooks for the knights, plays and trains with the wolf children) – absolutely soft for kids, loves cuddling the children and cooking for them^^
Biased Concern - Cale/Reader
notes: I combined 2 asks because the premise was similar
tags: fluff, no gender specified for reader, novel spoilers (war)
English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors
Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission
Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome
Requests are open and welcome
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another anon said: omg!! regarding the small preview you posted,, like there's the part in the novel where on and hong are in the eastern part with Ron and Beacorx while Cale has 3 days to live and smth smth + Raon going through his first growth phase (I don't really remember) so his s/o is in despair bc of the situation and they're like– ONE OF MY BABIES IS SICK AND ONE IS DYING AND THE OTHER 2 I DONT EVEN KNIW WHAT THEYRE DOING WAHHH 😔😔 that's all bye ✊️
Things are hectic. War is ongoing. Everyone is on their toes. Commander Cale Henituse is nowhere to be seen. Roan Kingdom’s Crown Prince Alberu Crossman is in a state of shock.
In short, things are chaotic.
However, it doesn’t look like that on the outside as most don’t have an idea what’s going on. Only very trusted people know just how everything is on the verge of being in shambles.
“I’m sure you were shocked your highness. Please forgive him. He has this terrible habit of throwing fast ones at random times.”
That was the first thing you said to Alberu as you entered his tent. The golden-haired man was already busy as it was. Now he has to cover and fill up Cale’s missing presence.
“I think I’m getting used to it now.”
You let out a short laugh at his response. Alberu said it with a nonchalant tone however his face conveys just how much of a headache Cale brings him. But it wouldn’t be Cale if he didn’t bring a headache.
“At least eat while you work your highness.”
Pushing the cart closer to where the crown prince is, you presented the foods cooked for today. On the plate, there’s a medium rare steak paired with some vegetables like asparagus, mashed potatoes, and others. It’s a simple meal, but it has all the nutrients and protein one would need.
“Did you help cook this? You were fighting earlier you should’ve just rested.”
“It's not a bother at all Your Highness. Seeing everyone energetic is enough to make me energized as well.”
You smiled at Alberu as he started eating. Humming in approval at your cooking.
“When are you going to visit Cale?”
Alberu stopped eating for a second to ask you a second. You stayed silent at his question, deeply pondering about it.
On one hand, you wanted to visit him and check how the children and he is doing. On the other hand, you are still needed in the Gorge of Death. Especially since the others are gone. Your complicated thoughts did not go unnoticed by the quarter elf. He can easily tell just how worried you are for your significant other but also thinking of your responsibilities.
“Just go.”
“But Your Highness as Cale’s Deputy Commander–”
“Are you going against the word of the crown?”
That made you shut up. However, you were still hesitant. Cale’s absence already puts so much on Alberu’s plate. His responsibilities will overflow if you go away too.
“It’ll be fine. Just make sure to come back quickly. While you’re at it tell that punk to get well fast too.”
Alberu waved his hands. Telling you to go now, leaving no room for argument.
“I… Thank you, your highness.”
Soon enough you are inside Hope and Adventure Loving Inn. Specifically, you were inside Beacrox’s kitchen making sweet treats for everyone.
Just outside the kitchen the staff, the previous mountain bandits, are whispering among themselves. They’ve never seen anyone freely enter the chef’s territory so this is a shock for everyone.
“Thanks for letting me bake Beacrox! Take this portion and share it among yourself and the other staff.”
You smiled at the tall man with him only responding with a bow of gratitude. As you go out of the kitchen you see everyone acting a bit weird. It was so obvious they were trying to look busy while eavesdropping. One of them was even feather-dusting another employee’s face.
“You’re here nya!”
“We missed you nya!”
On and Hong greeted you respectively as Ron guided you upstairs. Indeed, you haven’t seen them since the opening of the inn. You said you were going to visit but things got delayed because of everything that happened.
“I missed you too. Now go share this among yourselves. Make sure to leave some for your youngest brother.”
You hugged the two for a bit before asking Ron to show you where Cale was. As he showed you the way you reluctantly let the two children go. Promising to play with them more later.
“I must warn you. The sight inside is unsightly.”
The servant warned you before opening the door. Sure enough, it was. The first thing that caught your attention was the foul stench of blood.
Speaking of blood, Cale was super bloody. He keeps vomiting blood like a water pipe with a leak.
“Oh my…”
You unconsciously said. The two heads lying on the bed turn to you. With Raon’s expression brightening up.
“You visited!”
“Well, I did promise to visit your siblings.”
Smiling, you welcomed the toddler into a warm embrace. Behind you, Ron excused himself to give the three of you privacy.
Cough!
A certain redhead deliberately coughed out blood louder than before. Clearly unsatisfied at you saying that you came to visit the children.
“Of course, I came to visit you too.”
You laughed, walking towards the bed to give your significant other a kiss on the forehead. The bed dips as you sit down on it, with Raon still in your arms.
“I take it that you successfully got the water ancient power? All this blood must be from your plate fixing itself then.”
One of your hands was stroking Cale’s hand while the other one fed Raon the singular cookie you had brought with you inside the room.
Cale’s eyes looked at you. Probably examining if you were hurt somewhere while being away from him. He then frowned as he saw you feeding the chubby dragon. Your gaze travels to where he seems to be looking and the jealousy makes you laugh.
“Yes, I made it. Yes, there’s still some left. Yes, I already prepared some greasy food to cook so you eat later after you’re well. No, I will not stop feeding Raon. Don’t be greedy, you already have most of my attention.”
The commander’s frown etched deeper in his face as you said the last part. His gaze seems to be asking you if you’re really concerned about his well-being.
“Of course I am.”
You chuckled.
“I wouldn’t left the Gorge of Death if I wasn’t silly.”
Pushing his hair back a little, you gave his forehead another kiss. Reassuring him that you didn’t just go for the children.
Later on, when Cale was feeling much better he asked you if you only got together with him so that the kids would favour you.
“Silly man, I don’t need to be with you for the kids to love me.”
“That’s right nya!”
“Certainly nya.”
“I’ll like my human’s human even if you aren’t together!”
The defeated Cale could only click his tongue in annoyance.
#trash of the count's family#lout of the count’s family#tcf#lcf#cale henituse#lotcf#totcf#le asks#tcf x reader#lcf x reader#tcf fic#cale x reader#cale henituse x reader#totcf x reader#lotcf x reader#lout of the counts family x reader#trash of the counts family x reader#x reader#manhwa x reader#lcf fic#totcf fic#lotcf fic#raon miru#on and hong#tcf on#tcf hong
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An anon who was rereading Anyone asked me what would have happened if Izuku didn't like eggs and how you tell a supervillain you don't like what he made and that you want something. I have bravely tried to answer said ask but Tumblr laughed at my pain, so here is it, on a new post.
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When confronted with the super villain Izuku had accidentally broken out of the most secured prison in the country, a man who had basically walked out of said prison as soon as he hadn’t been restrained anymore, Izuku did the only thing any rational person would do.
He ran like hell. No shoes, no plan, nothing except Full Cowl roaring in his veins and he fled.
At least, he tried to.
Strong tendrils stopped him dead, then hands picked him up by his shoulders and suddenly, his feet weren't touching the ground and he was forcibly brought to the kitchen table.
''No, no, no,'' All for One said with the tone one would employ with a disobedient pet or a very young child. ''Your breakfast is going to get cold and we have so much to talk about. Sit. Enjoy the eggs. If you don't like them, I can make something else.''
And he dropped him on his chair, before putting the plate in front of him. Then, he sat at the other end of the table, facing Izuku, his own plate in front of him and he started to eat. Slowly, his manners perfect, while Izuku was dying of sheer stress over there.
Then, he looked at Izuku. Then at Izuku's plate.
''You're not eating?''
Izuku looked at the man who had literally reduced people to paste last night and then at his plate of eggs and bacon, then back at the lunatic who was probably going to skin him alive soon enough. He needed to do something, to get the time to find a way out of this mess.
Now, any reasonable human being would have eaten a bit of eggs and bacon – well, eaten the bacon in Izuku’s case – but he had just woken up, was in a pre-caffeinated state and truly, Izuku had never claimed to have the slightest working relationship with sanity.
“I don’t like eggs,” he blurted out.
The supervillain, the very same man who had literally gone through a prison riot of fellow villains like he was running through wet paper, was startled so badly by those four words that he dropped his fork.
“What do you mean, you don’t like eggs???” he asked like this was a ludicrous notion, like everyone’s favorite breakfast should be eggs and bacon.
“Never liked them,” Izuku lied, by pure spirit of contradiction, far more developed than for most people, for it had been left with quite the amount of room after the disappearance of all his survival instinct.
And it was indeed a lie because, once upon a time, it had been his favorite comfort food, but when he had been a kid, during one of those weeks where his mom was gone and the neighbor supposed to watch over him was busy forgetting his existence, he had gorged himself on it at every meal until he had gotten so sick of it that he had been unable to eat them ever again.
All for One watched him with something that went beyond annoyance, it was the patented look of someone who knew one was messing with him and the words “You’re a goddamn liar” were probably fighting to be left out but he had no proof that Izuku was bullshitting him and if even if he somehow had a lie-detecting-quirk, Izuku would keep denying it because he probably wasn’t making it out alive anyway so why deprive himself of the chance of annoying his would-be-killer?
And actually, why wait?
“I prefer waffles,” Izuku informed him because, after all, All for One had offered him to make him something else.
All for One stared at him without saying anything, probably thinking about all the ways he could have killed Izuku back when they were in Tartarus. Meanwhile, Izuku gave the illusion to be staring back at him when he was actually thinking about the fact the window made a faster exit but All for One would have the time to catch him before he landed seven floors lower while the door offered him more options.
All for One eventually abandoned his plate and started to rummage through the cupboards, going straight to the place where Izuku and his mom usually put the baking ingredients. Either everyone organized their kitchen the same way, or All for One had broken in so many homes that he was just a pro at using any kitchen he found himself into.
“Do you have flour?” the lunatic called out. “I can’t find it.”
Izuku had already flowed out of his chair and was making his way to the door by walking backwards, trying to radiate nonchalance and not the need to RUN AWAY WITHOUT LOOKING BACK.
“Try the highest shelves,” Izuku helpfully suggested, his hand on the doorknob.
It was where his mom put the heaviest pots and pans they usually didn’t use, since everyone in this household needed to climb a chair to access it. With a little luck, they would all fall on All for One.
Izuku left the apartment, not even bothering to fully close the door behind him, and he ran. He was in his pajamas, had found his sneakers by the door and they were still in his hands as he booked it out of his neighborhood as fast as Full Cowl could carry him and he didn’t stop until his building wasn’t in sight anymore. Then, he stopped on a bench, the couple flirting on it deciding they could do that somewhere else when they saw him approaching, and he put his sneakers on, took a deep breath, and decided to run some more, still in the opposite direction of where Todoroki was living, and then, he would figure out a plan.
Unfortunately, liquid shadows chose this moment to appear right in front of him, revealing All for One, who was holding a bag from Waffle Palace in one of his hands.
“I didn’t find any flour or sugar so I just ordered in.”
Some people would have screamed or been startled but Izuku had already ripped the bench from the ground and thrown it at All for One. The villain batted it away with his empty hand but it didn’t matter because Izuku was already half way through the park, or at least until black tendrils grabbed him and yanked him back.
“Your waffles are going to get cold,” All for One sternly informed him before grabbing him by the back of his shirt and he warped again, this time with Izuku under his arm.
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I just had a funny idea omg:
"Hey, so, do you have like. Any mutant powers or anything?" Steve asked carefully.
Sam did not turn from the water fountain. "No."
Bucky looked like it took all of his self control not to vibrate into orbit. "So this little friend that's been following us around the park--"
"It's a bird," Sam barked, finally turning around to glare at him. "We're being stalked by a pigeon, Barnes. This isn't funny. It could be controlled by a villain."
"You are being stalked by a pigeon," Bucky corrected gleefully.
"Stop fighting," Steve sighed, watching as the pigeon desperately flapped its wings at the spout to fill a dog bowl. He stepped on the button, and the pigeon greedily flapped under the stream of water. "I don't think it's being controlled by a villain. A villain would make it forget it was thirsty."
Sam and Bucky considered this, watching as the bird gulped a beakful of water one time out of five, as if it was not used to having a beak. "Well now I feel bad," Sam said. It has been following him since he left the VA last night.
Bucky groaned. "This means we have to ask Tony for help, doesn't it?"
Steve shot him a glare. "Why is that bad?"
"He's gonna hyper focus and make a means of communication for Lucky, Alpine, and Liho, I just know it," Bucky sighed miserably.
Sam took off his shirt and knelt down, carefully wrapping it around the panting, soaked pigeon. "Come on, buddy," he said as Steve and Bucky began bickering behind him. "Let's get you some help." Maybe, if he asked Tony without the bickering soldiers, Tony would be more concerned about their new pigeon friend.
--
Remarkably, Tony already had a nice bird setup. "Jarvis used to keep quail," he'd explained with a shrug as he showed them through the old Stark mansion.
The pigeon seemed to appreciate the heaters and bowls of bird seed, although it never seemed to quite get a knack for the water bowls.
Tony let Sam help when it came to putting the communication device together, which he appreciated, because the more he watched the pigeon, the less like a bird it seemed. Or at least, the less like a New York street pigeon, anyway. It didn't gorge itself while it had the chance, and it mostly hobbled around on the ground instead of trying to fly up to one of the perches. That could have been because it was still recovering from exhaustion, but Sam doubted it.
"Et voilá," Tony said as they finished it. "If it's a bird, it'll tell us about fries."
Sam raised an eyebrow at him even as he followed Tony to the bird pen. "You know what birds talk about?"
"I have had enough bags of fries stolen to know," Tony told him primly as he turned the communicator on. "Speak, pigeon."
"Sam my brother accidentally turned me into a bird after we left your office yesterday," the pigeon wailed. "He got scared and ran away and I couldn't keep up with him or open the door to go back into your office I AM A PIGEON WITH PTSD NOW SAM!!!!!"
"Oh my God Jessica," Sam gasped, and Tony clapped a hand over his mouth and turned away, shoulders shaking with the effort not to laugh. "We'll figure this out FUCKING STOP LAUGHING TONY."
"It is kind of funny," Jessica said reluctantly.
"It fucking isn't you're a BIRD, JESSICA!" Sam bellowed.
"Yeah, but it's also the first time I slept through the night without waking up screaming, so," Jessica continued.
"Animal therapy," Tony choked, and then screamed when Sam chased him out of the enclosure.
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Sweet but assertive short-king endurance athlete cooks massive cheat meal for huge, less-assertive would-be strongman competitor, then encourages him and gives him belly rubs until he's completely maxed out.
Tom and Kyle were roommates and best friends. Both bonded over their love of sports, though their athletic profiles could not be more different. Kyle was an endurance athlete, the kind of man who ran marathons as a hobby and who went on epic cross country trails across mountains, finishing at record speed. Standing at 5'5 and weighing in at only 120 lbs, but somehow filling every room he stepped in.
Tom was, well, the opposite. Not very agile, not very good with teammates (or other people in general actually), but very good at lifting heavy things. Built like a bull, 6'4, 300 lbs, with a belly as impressive as his arms. Not the esthetics of a bodybuilder, but a very effective strongman.
Tom stepped back into their appartement, after a hard day training. He'd taken off his shirt - the two were almost always shirtless at home-, sweat glistening over his padded muscles and big belly. Immediately, Tom noticed the smell of food. Their dining table had been laid like for a feast, completely covered with all sorts of meals. Kyle was in the kitchen on the other side of the stand, shirtless too, looking dwarfed by the huge amount of food he'd cooked. All three of their large stew pots were bubbling on the stove,
"Are we having people over?" Tom asked.
"No, just us," Kyle said.
"I thought you'd be hungry after your workout."
Tom looked at the mountain of food Kyle had cooked. Then down at his belly, which stuck out by about two inches from under his pecs and over the elastic of his shorts. He was indeed hungry...
...so hungry he dove right in. Kyle smiled as he watched Tom shovel food into his mouth. As if a switch had been turned on inside the strongman.
"I don't think I need to ask about today's workout," Kyle joked.
Tom let out a huffled sound, his mouth filled with food. He swallowed, and said, "Yeah, today I..."
"No need to tell me, I can tell," Kyle said, walking up to him and shoving a forkfull in his mouth. "Keep eating, you need lots of fuel after training lie that."
Kyle put a hand on one of Tom's pecs, feeling the huge muscle under a thin layer of blubber.
"Dude you're so pumped," Kyle said. Tom nodded, already back to gorging himself.
Before going back to the cooker, Kyle gave his bulky friend a small belly rub. Tom was gorging himself so fast he could literally feel all the food fill his giant belly like a sac.
Kyle barely had to do anything while he prepared the next round of food. Tom could sometimes be insecure about his size, but his belly was there for a reason. Tom needed huge amounts of food to fuel his body and remain competitive in his sport, just like his big belly needed large quantities to feel full. And Kyle knew that deep down, his friend loved those binges.
Kyle had topped up Tom's plate five times when the strongman's pace slowed down.
"You don't like it?" Kyle said.
"No! No, not at all! It's really good."
Kyle smiled, as Tom's pace picked up.
"Good. I wanted to make the best cheat meal possible for you, it would be a shame if you didn't like it!"
Kyle topped up Tom's plate two more times before his bigger friend stalled once again. The strongman sat back, his huge heavy stomach taking up much of the space between him and the table.
"Are you alright?"
"It's heavy, man," he said, slowly rubbing his big belly.
"That's your speciality, isn't it? Heavy things."
Tom chuckled. "Yeah, you're right."
He awkwardly leaned forward, to grab another spoonful. It was a struggle to swallow, Kyle could tell.
"Ooooh that's a lot," Tom said.
Kyle grabbed a chair, and sat down next to him. He put a hand on top of his belly, on the big flat shelf that had formed under his pecs. Feeling the enormous stomach under the layer of fat and unflexed muscle. Tom was very bloated, yes, but he wasn't maxed out yet.
Keeping a hand on Tom's belly, Kyle grabbed the spoon, and started feeding him.
*
"Just how much did I eat?" Tom asked.
Kyle thought for a moment. He hadn't really been focused on numbers so far, just on making as much as possible.
"I'd say... maybe about 3 and a half gallons of stew?
"Holy shit," Tom said. With surprisingly little intonation, most of his energy having gone to his overloaded belly.
Kyle nodded. He'd made an insane amount, even for a big guy with a big belly like Tom. Maybe too much.
"And there's still one pot left," Kyle said, turning to the stove.
There was a brief silence.
"Dude I've had too much. There's no way I can manage more."
Kyle got up. Carried the last stew pot over to them. There had to be a good gallon of stew in there. A gallon and a half maybe. Too much for your average guy to eat in one sitting, even on an empty belly.
"Your belly's bigger than the pot," Kyle said, putting the pot next to Kyle's huge musclegut.
"Bro. It is," Tom said.
The big stew pot looked small, compared to the giant belly.
"That means there's room," Kyle said.
Tom knew the logic was wonky, but was too dazed to argue. When Kyle started feeding him, he ate.
Making even the tiniest mouthful fit in that overloaded belly took a herculean effort, brute force and strength. But that's what Tom was all about. He was on autopilot now, doing what he was best at.
Kyle kept a hand on Tom's belly all along, both impressed, scared at what he was doing, and too engrossed to stop. Tom's belly felt like a sack of cement. The layer of fat, the muscles, they had all been stretched out and made rock hard by the tremendous pressure from all that food. A sack of cement, but one that was somehow swelling.
Tom's belly was so big the individual gulps didn't make any difference, but Kyle could feel it. The gigantic mass of food inside him having to shift as more was forced in, his enormous stomach taking up ever so much more space. The pressure inside him was absurdly high. There was a very real risk of seriously hurting his friend, but it felt right to Kyle, for some reason. And he could tell it felt right to Tom as well.
When there was only a bit of the stew left, Kyle hoisted up the pot. He didn't have to ask, Tom opened his mouth, and let him pour what was left down.
Kyle put the empty pot down. He had literally never seen a belly so big as Tom's was right now. Tom's belly looked too big for his body, which was insane since Tom had the biggest body Kyle knew. Hell, he wasn't that much bigger than Tom's belly at this point!
Tom couldn't get up. He'd have to spend the night on the couch, and probably most of the next day too. His belly felt like a boulder. He was used to lifting heavy things, including big rocks, but this one was inside him. It was him. He could feel his whole body trying to process this absurd volume of food. Often after large meals he would feel his abs, which hidden as they were still had mighty strength, work to help support his pressurised stomach. This time, they were completely stretched out. His belly would probably have burst, he thought to himself, had they been less solid. As for his actual stomach, it was so overloaded the pain from it being so stretched out and the pain from it taking up so much space it was crushing every other organ inside his body had blended together. Like the pain after a big workout.
"You did it," Kyle said. "You managed it all."
"I did. With your help."
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm going to need help digesting all this..." Tom said. Soundind absolutely exhausted.
Kyle suddenly felt a bit nervous. He knew Tom's belly very well, but not when it was this big. And he'd have to be good with his belly rubs, with Tom in this state.
"I trust you," Tom said, with a tired smile.
#male stuffing#belly story#male belly story#stuffing story#musclegut#gainer story#weight gain story#male weight gain#ex jock#fat jock#musclegut story
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blood drunk - astarion ancunin
pairing: astarion ancunin x fem!reader rating: 18+ summary: The rain hit against the window as you laid in bed. The blankets were up to your chest as you slept. It had been a hard few days of traveling for your party and you all needed some much needed rest. But you had become accustomed to sleeping lightly by your travels through the wilderness. tags: pwp, blood, smut, biting, sane and consensual, astarion loves the reader, gentle sex, cowgirl. 3.1k
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The rain hit against the window as you laid in bed. The blankets were up to your chest as you slept. It had been a hard few days of traveling for your party and you all needed some much needed rest. But you had become accustomed to sleeping lightly by your travels through the wilderness.
You never knew when someone would try to hurt you.
It was hard to sleep regardless. It wasn't the bed or the pillows, it wasn't what you ate or a sore throat. Your bed felt like it was missing someone. Your beloved Astarion.
It was raining, and while that would put you to sleep, it was hard to do so when you knew he was out there. He couldn't solely rely on you for blood. He had to hunt in the wilds that surrounded the town. But you wanted him beside you, you wanted to be curled up in his arms for any chance at a proper sleep.
Thunder rumbled outside and you woke up. Your eyes felt heavy as did your body, but you were wide awake. You yawned and sat up, the room was bathed in darkness. You got up to light a candle so you didn't have to sit in darkness.
You rubbed your eyes free of sleep and got back into bed. It felt so empty without him. Even when you two were out traveling, he'd often put his bedroll beside yours, or simply let you lay on him. The thought of being close to him brought you comfort as you laid there.
”Shit.“ You mumbled to yourself.
You thought about going to your bag and finding a book to read until you nodded off. But there were other plans that were awaiting you. Before you got out of bed, the door to the room opened. On the other side was your lover.
He looked disheveled. Almost drunk as he staggered into the room and closed the door behind him with his foot. He dropped face first into the bed, almost missing it. You went over to examine your lover. You cupped his face and saw the smear of blood across his lips.
”Astarion.“
”Yes, my love.“ He replied, ”I missed you.“
”You're soaking wet.“ You chuckled softly. You let go of him, which made him whine and you got to the foot of the bed to help him up, ”Let's get you out of these.“
”Are you sure you don't want me naked?“ He said cheekily.
You sighed then smiled, ”I don't think it would take much convincing to do that. I just don't want you having wet clothes in bed.“ As you undressed him, you asked, ”Are you full now?“
He smiled, teeth stained red, ”I could always go for dessert.“
You kissed his forehead, feeling the dampness of it, ”Someone got a little too excited with a bear, I see.“
He licked his lips slowly, ”How could you tell?“
You pulled the shirt off of him and kissed him again, ”I can always tell, honey. You get that look in your eye.“ After all this time traveling you could tell when Astarion gorged himself on a delectable creature. You had come to learn there was very little like bear blood.
He tried to close the gap between you two but tripped and fell into your arms. You always ended up on the ground, but managed to keep yourself steady. You chuckled and kissed him as you held him. He apologized and you told him it was okay.
He had seen you drunk off wine before, this was no different to that.
Once he was stripped down, you tried not to gaze at his impressive cock, you brought him to bed and tucked him in. He whined and you went in for a kiss on the lips. He practically melted into the kiss, it was quite endearing.
”Where are you going?“ He asked as you pulled away.
”To hang up your clothes for the morning.“
”Don't leave, my love.“ He responded, his voice quiet.
You kissed him on the lips again, the taste of bear blood lingered, ”I'm not going far, I just need to have these hung up so they don't grow mold.“
He almost whimpered at the mere idea of being too far away from you. Underneath all of the sarcasm, Astarion cared deeply for you. He loved you after all. He was only sweet when he was around you.
You pulled away and brushed your fingers through his white hair, ”I'll be gone no more than a few minutes.“
He sighed and kept his eyes closed. You pulled away further and went to hang up his clothes around the room you shared. You made sure that everything was laid out across various surfaces in the room so it would be dry by morning.
As you hung the shirt over the curtain rod by the window. You brought it to your nose and inhaled. Your heart fluttered as you felt his warmth. He was a complicated man, sometimes you thought the least interesting thing about him was the fact he was a vampire.
”Please, my love.“ You heard him say. You placed the shirt over the curtain rod and turned towards him. He looked at you with those red eyes, a monster's eyes, ”Come back to bed.“
You smiled, ”Impatient aren't we?“
”For you, always. I miss you when I go out to feed.“ He sat up and rubbed the left side of his head, ”Eating a bear is nothing like devouring you.“
You chuckled lightly as you went back over to the bed. You laid beside him and cupped his face, he looked down at you. You smiled, ”It's good to know that I don't taste like a bear.“
”Eating them is a necessity, having you is a treat. I think of it as the most expensive meal money could buy. And I have it all to myself.“ He leaned up and kissed you, ”Being able to drink your blood is a luxury I am forever grateful to have.“
”I love you, Astarion.“ You said.
”I love you too.“ He kissed you softly. Your legs tangled together in bed. He felt content with you by his side, like the missing piece was back. He only thought highly of you, as if you placed the stars in the sky for him. While it may have been a rocky start in the beginning, the love you both found was endearing.
You pulled away from the kiss after a moment but he came closer to have another one. His hand on your shoulder as he deepened it. Your heart leaped from the feeling of his lips against yours. He smiled into the kiss and then cupped your face with both hands.
”Astarion.“
”Shh.“ He said, ”Let me.“
”I thought you were blood-drunk. I wouldn't want to-“
”Don't worry, being back in your arms has sobered me up. But it has caused another problem.“ He rubbed up against you, you felt his bare cock against your inner thigh. He smiled before he pulled you in for another kiss.
You moaned into it as the two of you passionately made out under the covers. His hands roamed your body and you began to feel heat all over. You moaned once more as he grabbed your ass. You eventually felt him roll on top of you.
In the low light of the room, you two were so close together. You smiled up at him and gazed into those beautiful eyes. Like the finest rubies. You reached out and cupped his face gently.
”I love you.“
”I love you too.“
”Take me, take all of me.“ You said quietly.
His lips came closer to you and he replied, ”Of course. For you, anything.“ Then kissed you once more as he began to unbutton the front of your sleeping shirt. He felt your breasts through the fabric before he got it off you and on the floor. His kiss trailed down to your chest and you moaned softly. He breathed deeply against your chest. He looked up at you and asked, ”May I?“
You nodded, ”Yes, of course.“ You felt heat rise in your cheeks as he sank his fangs into your left breast. You whimpered as blood filled your lover's mouth. You dug your fingers into his soft white hair and shakily exhaled.
The blood was warm in his mouth. It sent a relief through him like nothing else. Having your blood was a luxury, and he was forever thankful for that. The knowledge that only he could have your blood. To savor it on his tongue as he happily lapped at the wounds.
You were divine, perfect in his eyes.
He let out a soft groan and then licked at the puncture wounds on your breast to clear up the last bit of blood. He gave the mark a kiss before he licked his lips. He gazed up at you with another look in his eye. Not of bloodlust, but something entirely different.
The rain continued to batter against the glass. You laid there by your lover as he gazed at you with want in his eyes. He was aroused by the action of having your blood. His mouth was smeared with the liquid.
“My love.” He said, almost breathless.
“Do you want me, Astarion?”
He smiled gently, “I want you every day for the rest of our time on this planet. I would do anything for you. I'd rip my own heart out at the chance of being close to you, my love. My darling, my whole world.”
Your heart skipped at his words. You knew he meant them. He was conniving, but with time you saw through the facade. You knew the man underneath the sarcasm and lockpicking skills. You saw a man who yearned for your love.
He watched you as you got out from under him. You gestured for him to lie on his back. He carefully did as you told him to do, he was bare on top of the soft blankets.
“Do you want this, Astarion?”
He smiled, "Yes, I want this, my love. There is no need to ask over and over again.“ He reached for you and touched your hand, ”I trust you.“
”I know, I just-“
”I trust you, now come on before we both get too tired.“ He smirked, he took your hand and pulled you closer to him. He kissed your body briefly before you got yourself onto his lap. He studied you as you rubbed your pussy up against his thigh.
You smiled down at him, you pushed the hair out of your eyes. You shakily exhaled, ”Are you sure?“
He smiled and put his hands on your hips, "I am certain. I only have eyes for you, my love. I wish to spend the rest of eternity being intimate with you. You're all of could ever want.“
You blushed, you covered your face with your hand and he chuckled.
”You are simply amazing.“ He said quietly.
”I love you, Astarion.“
”I love you too.“
With his help you positioned yourself over his cock, then slowly sank down. You could feel your heart in your throat as you moved down. You soon braced yourself onto his chest as you got all the way for the base.
You could feel his cock in your gut. It made you feel even warmer, with sweat at the base of your skull. The wound on your chest was no longer bleeding, with a bit of blood stuck against your skin. You knew the bruise would be bright in the morning.
”That's it.” He said, “Perfect.”
“Fuck, Astarion.” You whimpered as you moved your hips. You felt hi cock nudge against the deepest parts of you. It was a feeling that left a hot feeling down your back.
The rain continued to fall accompanied by lightning. Under the soft candlelight you moved against him. You felt pleasure bloom in your gut and your body becomes sweaty. The feeling was intoxicating even with a dull throb at your breast.
“I love you.” He said softly, “Since the moment I met you. I knew I had to have you. Sex with you came easy, but loving you was a beast I never thought I could control.”
“I love you too.” You replied, “You've made all the challenges worth bearing. I feel at home with you, you are my world.” Then let out a soft moan as you felt him slowly roll his hips, further pushing his cock inside of you.
His hands roamed your body as you moved. He groaned and clenched his jaw as he felt the pleasure in his body. Being intimate with you was a feeling that he could never get over. There was a high to it that he couldn't deny himself. He was devoted to you through it all. He loved every inch of skin, every hair, every wrinkle, every laugh line, he'll love you until the sun explodes.
He had to, he WANTED to. For a long time he was given no choice on what he wanted. But he knew, to his very core, that he wanted you. He needed you. You were the piece of him that was missing. The apple of his eye, the cherry on top of his cake. He almost became a sappy love sick dog when he was with you.
But it was all true.
His hands rested on your hips once more and he began to match your pace. Two bodies moved on the bed as it creaked under them. You almost felt sorry for the guest in the room below. They probably would have never guessed a creature of the night would get so intimate with their 'blood bag'.
You chuckled to yourself which caused his attention.
“What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing, just thinking of you calling me your blood bag.” You smiled down at him and for a moment let your hands roam his body. You felt excitement course through you under all the heat of your skin. It was like a current had run through you.
He gripped your hips and for a moment leaned up to kiss your collarbone, “Maybe as a joke, but you are so much more than that. If I wanted a blood bag we would've parted ways by now.“
You held onto him, ”I know, Astarion. And I love you.” You tilted your head down to kiss him on the top of your head as you rocked back and forth.
Your heavy breathing and soft noises filled the cool room. Despite the dampness your bodies felt hot and alive. You let out a high-pitched moan and he shuddered. You sounded like a dream.
The two of you continued to make love. Your breasts jiggled with every movement as did your hips. You could feel the burn in your chest as you gasped for breath. You eventually held onto the bed under him for further support as you began to pick up the pace.
Bodies hot, tied together in eternity. He adored you and you did the same. A hot passion between you two since the moment you met. The gods had bound the monster and the human together. And you were content with that notion. Many may see a vampire as a monster, but you saw a lover. A lover who required blood, but you were generous.
You'd happily let him have his fill of your blood. And maybe one day, you'll become like him. And forever spend your moments on this earth as an immortal creature. Maybe a decade or two in bed with your lover was what you needed.
But at that moment what you needed was a climax. You worked his cock, the slick sounds of sex filled the room as you moved together. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you panted heavily. You clung to the sheets under your lover's back as you let out a quiet moan.
Astarion gazed at you, his lover. He reached out and cupped your face while you thrust your hips. The emotions that welled up inside of him from the sight of you moving against him. This was what he wanted, this was the life he chose to have.
It was sappy but it was sweet.
And you deserved sweetness.
He held onto you tighter as he thrusted up into you. You leaned down to kiss him passionately on the lips in an effort to silence your ever growing noises. The bed continued to squeak with the headboarding hitting against the wall. You were certain there was a chip in the wall by now.
You moaned against the kiss, you felt the sweat on your bare back. As you kissed him, he played with your breasts. You moved your head down to the side of his neck and left your own impressive mark on his flesh.
It was only fair after all.
You felt pleasure reach its peak. It forced you to move faster to chase after the high. You moaned against his lips before you moved away for air. Everything felt like a live wire as you thrusted. Your pussy was sore despite how slick it was, Astarion's cock was sometimes too much for you.
“Shit.” He gasped.
“Astarion.” You whimpered. You gazed into his eyes and held onto him once more. You were so close you could taste it on the tip of your tongue. You raked your nails down his chest before you went back in for one last searing kiss.
And then you hit your peak, you whined against his mouth as you felt the rush through your body. And just like that, the energy in your body was gone. Your head was spinning, as you dropped down on top of him. You felt him continue to thrust into you, he held onto you tightly as he kept going.
“Fuck.”
All you could do was moan in response. You felt your heart flutter as he pushed his cock so deep inside of you. It was an euphoric feeling. A rush that you could never feel with someone else. You held onto him as he held onto you.
With a hiss he finished inside of you and his body tensed up. Then he relaxed against the bed with a groan. His hands went laxed on your hips as he sank into the bed. You both laid there, sweaty messes under the candlelight that was close to burning out.
He felt your heartbeat against his chest, where his should've been. He kissed the top of your head and held you close to him. He put you beside him on the bed and threw the blanket over you. He got under as well and reached out to hold your hand.
”I love you.“
”I love you too.“ You whispered.
And as the candle went out and bathed the room in darkness, Astarion smiled.
#bunny writes#bg3 astarion#bg3#baldur's gate 3#buldurs gate 3#bg3 x reader#baldur's gate 3 x reader#reader insert#astarion ancunin#astarion#baldurs gate 3#bg3 companions#baldurs gate#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x you
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My og comment from reddit in a general a hellverse sub about Bee getting the ick from watching Mammon chow down (can u tell I was walking on eggshells to not piss off defensive fans lol) and my expanded thoughts
Now for my unfiltered opinion. Ahem. Yeah it's actually very VERY stupid to have the sin of Gluttony, even a "nice party girl" and alternative take on it, to look disturbed by Greed (seriously, it's almost funny how similar gluttony is to greed in description) messily gorging on food. Like okay. They don't like each other, even hate each other. Sure. But for a haha funny reaction to Mammon going wild for lunch, you can keep Ozzie looked sickened, fine, but just have Bee glaring at him in a "this is not the time asshole" kind of way or SOMETHING damn idk.
Also. So many fans not knowing the full def of Gluttony. I felt like I was going insane with barely a few people in comment sections filled with thousands only getting it. It's not just being a foodie that maybe snacks too much, or drinking a few too many beers, or taking drugs at a party or whatever else people said lol. It's messy, it's over excess to the point of harm. It's sloppy, messy, kinda gross. Whether it's food, drink, or anything you overindulge in, it's not pretty. It's also...GREEDY. Let me not go on a tangent about how I think it would be more interesting for Bee and Mammon to frenemies instead-
And yeah. I made a post...about a year ago? About my slight discomfort and how unsure I was with how Mammon, and the few other plus size characters across both shows, were portrayed despite liking him. And wow did his portrayal this episode actually kinda made me a bit mad. Just made him the butt of the joke and gave him the obnoxious/annoying unlovable fat bully trope. Thanks for that I guess. Whatever I still love him lol.At least he was rocking the cool skeleton suit.
Also Ozzie. Don't tag team with Bee to clap back at Mammon like this is some teen's attempt at YA where the two friend characters always have a comeback for the pathetic bully character. Please. This is embarrassing. Don't let my GOAT be washed </3
#rant#helluva boss critical#helluva critical#helluva criticism#helluva boss criticism#helluva critique#helluva boss critique#sorry for this
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Creepypasta/MH - Doing Halloween Stuff With Them :)
(Characters: Tim/Masky, Eyeless Jack, Jeff the Killer, Nina the Killer, Jane the Killer, Ticci Toby)
Tim/Masky
Hear me out... corn maze
I believe that Tim enjoys a good puzzle every now and again
He loves trying to figure things out (specifically when there's nothing at risk)
Getting to show off his navigational skills is also a major plus
He just likes to impress you, even if it comes off as annoying sometimes
"See? What'd I tell you? The exit's right there."
Though he does like the satisfaction of completing the maze, what he really treasures is that time you spend together figuring it out
Once you finally find the exit, you'll celebrate with hot cocoa :D
Eyeless Jack
This man LOVES carving pumpkins
He goes all out; definitely one of those people who makes the crazy intricate designs that look like they take hours
He'll love it if you help him!
If you have a steady hand, he'll let you do the details
If you don't, he'll task you with gutting the pumpkin/handing him tools
You guys collaborate on multiple pumpkins throughout the month, setting them in random locations for everyone to see
If there's a design you want to do, just show it to him, there's no question he'll be down
If it's too simplistic, he'll try to add more details
"Ooh, Jack, look at this one. Can we try to re-create it?"
"Of course! Though I do have some ideas on how it can be improved..."
Jeff the Killer
Another pumpkin carving enjoyer
But for a different reason... a very different reason
He loves the goriness of gutting the pumpkins
He couldn't care less about making actual designs, he just wants to get messy stabbing the pumpkin and gouging out its insides
That being said, he'll 100% gut your pumpkin if you ask him (he'll probably end up doing it even if you don't ask)
It's honestly a little disturbing watching him work
He just gets this look in his eye...
"You, uh... you doing okay there, Jeff?"
"Hm? Yup! Never better!! Say, can you grab the big knife from the kitchen for me?"
Nina the Killer
You best bet she's the costume queen
Spends the whole year planning matching horror-themed costumes
She'll settle for no less than creativity and perfection
High-quality props and articles only!! She'll even make them herself if she has to!
You can expect to spend at least an hour in front of the mirror while she does your makeup/adjusts your clothes
She's an SFX makeup legend, loves incorporating as much gore into your costume as possible
Don't ask why it's so realistic (it's not like she knows how the wound would look if it was real or anything)
"Wow, Nina... It's almost like I can feel it! It's so real!"
"No, no. If you were feeling it, you would be screaming pretty loud right now."
You can also expect to attend multiple parties where you show off your costumes
You guys dominate costume competitions
Jane the Killer
Horror movies!!
Specifically, making fun of them
You both pick apart the plot, the characters, the dialogue, the special effects, everything
No horror film is safe from your scrutiny
If you're the type to get scared during horror movies, her snide comments will help distract you
"Ooh, I can't look!"
"Oh, come on. Look—I bet they used corn syrup for that fake blood. It's way too thick."
When the movie ends, you're both feeling more amused than scared
She doesn't like to see horror films in theaters because she doesn't get to make commentary, plus she doesn't want to "waste" money on a "stupid tryhard-horror flick"
She'd much rather dig up some old indie DVD/VCR and have a home movie night with you
Ticci Toby
Halloween sweets are his bread and butter
Candy apples, fun-sized candy bars, candy corn, pumpkin bread...
He would perish if you made anything homemade for him
Spends the whole month gorging on sweets almost as fast as he can get his hands on them
He will not share with anyone but you
And even you only get a small portion of his goodies
Robs at least one child on Halloween night, mostly for the candy but also because he likes scaring little kids
"Where did you get all that candy?"
"Got it from a little birdy. By that I mean a kid in Falcon cosplay."
"Toby! ... save me the (favorite candy)."
Thank you for reading! Have a good day/night my spooky pookies <33
(divider by saradika)
#creepypasta#creepypasta headcanons#creepypasta x reader#masky x reader#eyeless jack x reader#jeff the killer x reader#nina the killer x reader#jane the killer x reader#ticci toby x reader#masky#tim wright#jeff the killer#nina the killer#jane the killer#ticci toby#marble hornets#marble hornets x reader
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I screamed when I saw Tim on your feed yes we love a pretty guitar man
finally a fellow Tim Henson enthusiast!! 🎉
guess we have a type (= overqualified youtube twink w/ a futuristic fashion sense aka the best young guitarist out there 🗣).
risky post incoming cuz he's HOT & i love hands
[for those who don't know who this pretty boy is: tim's yt | tim's ig | tim's twt | about his band polyphia]
i agree he's gorgeous: jealousy magnet, mr henson has it all!!
- the delicious ink 😍 (neck tattoo: the sign of a masochist)
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- 0% gravity hair (those fluffy waves! looking so soft tim, geez 🤒)
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- the sexy 8 string guitar, cause he can, how does he do that??
- the alt beauty (tim radiates haughty expensive power bottom who talks back to get punished ngl, he's prog rock's #1 it boy)
-the sweater game, all day, every day (unmatched)
-the best technique. ice cold (easily most proficient hands in the music biz as of lately 😏 people either 1. hate him to the death or 2. need him carnally for this lmao, love me a polarizing guitar prodigy)
youtube
-A WHOLE FEMBOY BODY (even his ass is huge as of recently!! and the waist keeps getting smaller helpp)
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I'm going feral over his body linee don't @ me!! how smokin' could anyone be??
-the actual live skills, not just yt editing (needless to say! any straight or bi man should be able to move his fingers like that hhh there I said it 😂 tim keeps the standards as high as he is lmao)
youtube
-the studio (oh the things that should be happening on that chair! ...anyways: it's so modern but not boring, i like it)
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-the stylish guitars with the floral fretboards (guitar fuckers assemble!!! finally nylon strings are back thanks to him 💕)
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-even more gorge guitars YES model it for us legend!!
-plus he's got an all-round good taste in everything. quality is key! composition and character is always a matter of taste. but timmy never dropped a bad video, bad promo, bad album covers, bad vlogs, bad cinematography, bad advert, bad ig post, bad anything. he's always the sassiest gnc slayer short king golden boy in the room doing the most 👑
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...and seriously tho tim being texan youth i respect him defying the status quo!! that's real rock'n'roll☝️ he dressed for women and tops on the internet just to serve and confound some boomers along the way! prince would be proud 😎
homophobes leaving him anti-androgynous/misogynist/bodyshaming comments just can't cope with the sexiness, which he never compromised🤘 i truly pronounce tim bi ppls' favorite. since apparently nobody except the guitar community wants him we now own this man 🔥
-BONUS: last but not least look at this silver ibanez. look at it! tim is a design and aesthetics icon i rest my case... that many people still don't know about him is beyond me. he deserves all the clout!
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ef66eee4a45997de4a181e0582822416/12d61a4b5add45ad-6a/s540x810/196533ec8fb2a92a970afcc01f9e7c6ddb571c72.jpg)
i mean even personally... he's the kinda guy where you don't know if you came for the looks/fit or the skills and you stay for both! his playing style never disappoints. i always look forward to him dropping new material. tell me what your fave tim piece to listen to is ❤️
#i love to keep up with tim#the steve vai collab was everything! polyphia is 50-50 music for me but tim really is the way#ask#tim henson#music#guitar#polyphia#pretty boy#phew i got a lot to say about the guitar bae#thank you for the ask ma'am!!#progressive rock#rock#guitars
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NORTHERN LIGHTS.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/196a342613e68398242606b4bb11e65c/f5c6d4b10e1f00d6-c6/s540x810/808eb7b3c91451a921eb1a39a3766be1ccfdbc65.jpg)
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✧ PAIRING: kaeya alberich x fem!reader | 4.5k words
✧ SUMMARY: smut, p -> v, praise, fingering, lots of pining, angst, angsty bc it’s kaeya tbh lol, kaeya lore but it’s vague, also military themes bc sometimes we forget kaeya is a captain and i love the knights of favonius, he’s highkey got commitment issues but i think he’s valid, man is whipped tho, he's just an overthinker and traumatized, also can you tell i’m a med student?
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: first i have to apologize bc this is SO late??? i got this request back for my 200 event, asking for kaeya with the song northern lights by kennie (which is such a good song). at first i was gonna make it a short little drabble, but the more i wrote, the more i wanted to make it a full fic, which is what ended up happening. kaeya's character has so much depth and i wanted to explore it hehe. northern lights is such a fitting song for him so i just had to go all in. but i'm so sorry that i got to your request so late, hopefully you still enjoy it lovely! (even tho it’s not the main focus in this fic, this is technically my first real smut fic so take it with a grain of salt; i don't think i write it that well LMAO)
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it was rare to truly know your own weaknesses, but kaeya knew his a little too well. behind his carefree, unbothered exterior he cared a little too much. he cares a little too much when klee tugs on his fur cape and whines about a scolding she’s gotten from jean, and he ends up indulging her with whatever she’d like. he cares a little too much when rosaria spills just a tad more than usual during her drunken ramblings. he cares a little too much when he sees the discomfort in the face of certain fiery bartender as they speak, and he consistently lies awake and remembers days when that discomfort between them didn’t exist.
it’s a curse, he thinks, because he always ends up feeling too attached to people he knows he shouldn’t be attached to.
even now, his weakness is acting up as he barks orders to his soldiers. they scramble around him as they enter the city, carrying their wounded brethren to safety up at the cathedral. kaeya knows he shouldn’t blame himself but as their captain he feels like he should’ve seen this coming. new recruits wouldn’t be able to handle the hordes of monsters at daduapa gorge—he miscalculated.
“take them to the sisters at the cathedral. sister barbara and the others should be able to heal them,” kaeya commands, clasping one of the men’s shoulders and helping him up to the church. he’s ignoring the now dull throbbing in his side as blood stains his clothes—his soldiers were most important right now. like he said, he cared a little too much.
the nurses had set up a medical station at the cathedral, and in between all the commotion, kaeya’s finally able to hand over the groaning soldier to a nurse, who immediately gets to work.
he then takes a few steps back to assess the damage, grateful that all of his soldiers are getting the attention they needed. he’d hate himself if there were any losses today.
he doesn’t even realize that he’s now leaning against the wall, panting shallowly as blood continues to pour from his abdomen. oh well, he’d wait his turn—only after his soldiers were taken care of.
kaeya shuts his eyes, letting his body rest for a minute.
“you’re wounded.”
his eyes shoot open to see you standing in front of him. he assumes you’re not one of the nuns because your clothes are entirely different. you’re young, appearing to be around his age as you eye his torso critically.
“it appears so,” he answers.
“did someone take a look at you yet?”
“i’d prefer all my soldiers be taken care of first.”
your eyes flash with recognition. “so you’re captain kaeya?”
“indeed i am.” he lets his eyes roam over your concerned features.
you give him a small smile before continuing with a sigh. “i can safely tell you that all the wounded are being treated. i’m still an apprentice so i’m only here to deal with the non fatal injuries. like yours, captain.” you crouch down in front of him, fingers reaching towards his clothing with a silent question of permission. he lets his hand slacken as he gives you a nod and you attempt to peel back as many layers as you can to asses the damage before you’re motioning him towards a tent.
a few minutes later and kaeya is letting you strip his torso bare until you have a full view of his injury. your fingers brush over the wounded skin gently, and he wonders if you even touched him at all. “it’s long, but not too deep. a few stitches and you should be alright. if you’re okay with it, i’ll get started,” you tell him.
kaeya wants to tell you that he’s no stranger to the pain of injuries, but he finds something oddly refreshing about your comforting attitude, so he just says yes and lets you begin to work.
you thread through the skin with a delicate hand and despite the sting he honestly can’t even focus on it, choosing instead to analyze your features.
he realizes that you’re awfully pretty.
kaeya makes small talk with you as you work, partly to stay awake through the pain and mostly because he can’t stop his curiosity. he finds out your name, your hobbies, your goals. you may not have the most exciting life but kaeya thinks there’s something so alluring about you it makes him a little dizzy. he's not sure what it is, but he thinks about it the whole time you tend to his wound. realization hits when you finally finish, looking up at him with a smile, and kaeya realizes that your eyes hold the stars in them.
it’s hard to explain but when kaeya watches you work, nose scrunching in the dim lighting of the tent, he thinks you remind him of home.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7355d0d4f472ba3a23b1cef666873623/f5c6d4b10e1f00d6-40/s540x810/543efa566c8f97baa19ae36817482488b244d88e.jpg)
(kaeya has chased the stars for as long as he can remember. he remembers shouting with diluc in the grass behind the winery, the two of them reaching for celestia because the stars up there were so undeniably pretty.
"we're never gonna get them!" diluc would laugh, trying hard to balance kaeya on his little shoulders. "they're too far…"
and kaeya only grins down at him toothily, raising his fists to the sky. "no way! i'll catch them one day!"
and yet his whole childhood went by without being able to capture the stars. as he grew older he started to learn that it was impossible to steal what the sky so selfishly held on to.
but even as an adult, kaeya knows to appreciate the stars when he gets the privilege to see them in the sky.
especially after he finally seems to find them in the dim glow of a medical tent.)
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he hates to admit how often his eyes seek you out after that one encounter. sometimes he’ll see you at the cat's tail, giggling with your friends as you slam tcg cards down on the table triumphantly. other times he’ll catch a glimpse of you at good hunter, chewing on a quick meal as you browse through a book. almost every time he gets caught staring you only smile and offer him a little wave that sends his brain into a frenzy.
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(maybe in another life kaeya would allow himself the luxury. he’d let himself go through the motions for you. let himself stress every time you threw a glance his way. work up the courage to ask you out on saturday afternoon. finally get the chance to press his lips to yours. trace your skin with nimble fingers and have the privilege to call you his.
in another life maybe.
but for now he’ll just keep you his own little secret—a guilty pleasure he’ll indulge in because it’s hard to rid an addiction, especially if you don’t have the will to rid it in the first place.)
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kaeya’s messed up this summer. he knows it in his soul that he’s made the wrong decision as he watches you babble about something as you lean against his bare chest, still basking in your own afterglow.
he knows that he should have resisted the temptation. as soon as he and the troops got back and he saw you sitting in a secluded corner at angel’s share he knew that his feelings for you hadn’t dissolved.
they say absence makes the heart grow fonder and kaeya only now knows this to be true because just the sight of you sends his mind into a frenzy. you could probably feel his gaze on you because you look up from the book you’re reading and make straight eye contact with him. for a second, he wants to turn away but then you smile at kaeya like you’ve never once forgotten him, and he’s putty. before he knows it, he’s buying you a drink and walking over to your little corner to make himself comfortable.
it’s a slow descent for him because in his head he knows he shouldn’t get too attached. he’ll leave again soon with the troops, and who knows maybe he’ll leave them behind one day too. his future has always looked so clouded to him, and he knows you belong in the sun. he’d like to leave you there in the light—avoid dragging you into his darkness.
so he tries to keep it simple, occasionally meeting you for a drink or catching up around the city. but then you’re showing him your favorite place to study near starfell lake and he’s showing you his favorite stars while laying on his back on starsnatch cliff. and he knows he can’t avoid it.
soon enough he’s giving into everything he said he wouldn’t, finally finding out what you taste like. finally knowing how his name sounds when it falls from your lips.
it's more addicting than he could've predicted, the feeling of your breath against his skin as you pant out his name. kaeya can't even bring himself to pull away from you to stop and think for a second. if he did then maybe he could slap some sense into himself and draw some distance because archons above he was digging himself deeper into this hole. but he can't, not when you're gripping his shoulders as he presses you against the wall of his bedroom, whining into his lips for all that he can give you.
and kaeya is nothing if not generous.
so he indulges both you and himself—the perfect mix of selfless and selfish as he guides you to his bed, nimble fingers loosening the ties of your clothing until you're bare in front of him. he can see the bashfulness settling into your cheeks and he almost feels like goading for just a minute, but he decides he'll be nice.
you've always deserved a nice guy anyway.
he tries to push that thought away, instead distracting himself with the heat of your body, his fingers dancing along your skin eagerly. maybe, just this one night, he can let it be about you two. he can afford to forget about all the old promises he's made—all the responsibilities and duties he devoted himself to a lifetime ago.
kaeya ignores the flush of heat crawling up his neck as he hovers over you, caging your body underneath his as you squirm in anticipation. he understands—the tightness in his pants is enough for him to feel the same. but he's not worried about that, not when his fingers part your thighs eagerly, brushing over heated skin and finding slick wetness there as he dips into your cunt. he hears the sharp intake of breath, the quiet restrained moan, and he preens. kaeya revels in the sounds he pulls from your lips as his fingers curl against your slick heat, your head lolling back against his pillows.
there's a possessive streak of something that cuts through him then—something that tells him how he aches to be the only one who gets to hear those sounds.
it makes him slightly sick.
kaeya realizes then—he's been quite stupid when it comes to you. he's kept the maelstrom of feelings brewing in his soul trapped under all his bravado, arrogant and cowardly all at once. he needs to tell you, needs to be honest because this isn't something he can trick his way out of.
but all he wants to do is run. run so far away from you because he doesn't want you to to get caught up in his own ruin. you're far too good for him, too sweet and carefree to be tainted by his sin-laden hands. he needs to run.
but he does none of that, not when he's guiding his fingers to the apex of your thighs and exploring territory he knows he shouldn't claim. because then you look at him with an expression so blissful—so thankful, relieved that he's giving you a part of himself he never wanted to—and he can't even be angry about it.
kaeya presses his lips to the swell of your chest, feeling the rapid thumping of your heart under your skin, and he shuts his eyes as he breathes out your name. you answer with a resounding mewl, catching his eyes even through the dark strands of his hair.
he then chooses to focus on pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt because archons do you look heavenly when your eyes roll back like that.
but it scares him, the way you leave him open and exposed and aching even when he doesn't want to be.
in his head you're perfect, all bright and glowing under him as you chant his name like he's some kind of savior. but kaeya isn't a savior—if anything he's destruction in human form, sent by the heavens to wreak havoc on those around him. he'd destroyed enough already—he doesn't think he can do it to you too.
but archons the way you're looking at him now, from under fluttering lashes and dewy eyes that shine even brighter when they're trained on him—begging, pleading, and oh so trusting of him and every thing he wants to give you. he can't even help himself.
"i know, sweet girl," he sighs, voice strained as you buck your hips just perfect—a temptress, sent to lead him to his doom. and yet he can't stop his fingers from pushing back your hair from your sweaty skin, knowing that he should be careful because he doesn't want to destroy something as fragile as this.
"kaeya please," your breath comes out in short desperate pants, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders haphazardly.
"i know," he repeats, reaching down to heft your thigh over his waist as he slots his hips against your own, biting back a groan at the sensitive brush against his cock—throbbing, aching, needy.
"ah fuck," he's almost shy at the way his voice shakes as he lines his cock up, the heat and slickness of your cunt a teasing caress against his sensitive head. he drops his forehead against your shoulder, breathing heavily even before he's inside you because something about this makes him so incredibly nervous. a single desperate whine and the soft squeeze of your fingers into his biceps and he's stilling—breath catching, heart pounding.
for a moment, he doesn't even feel like himself. he's not anything, no one.
and then he slides in and kaeya knows that there will never be anything better—another experience that would feel this right in his life.
he pulls out a little, gaze lingering at the sweat beading at your forehead, and something in his chest stutters. "okay?" he traces your face for any hint of hesitation—of the nervousness that he feels in his gut, but all he finds is a stormy mix of desire and devotion.
"uh huh," reassurance, stability—everything he isn't. his brows pinch, eyes shutting because he doesn't want you to know.
he's pulled out of the whirlwind that is his thoughts when he feels your fingers on his cheek, brushing over his skin gently. his eyes snap open, and even through the haze he can feel himself relaxing under your touch, because the way you're looking at him is so undeniably loving and it makes his stomach flip.
"you okay?" you whisper, looking up at him carefully, and kaeya feels as though you've put him between the halves of a microscope slide to analyze him.
"i'm fine," he breathes out, not a lie but not the whole truth either. "don't worry."
his words do little to quell you, but one roll of his hips has your eyes fluttering, a choked moan escaping your throat, and the sound makes his pride sing.
there's an image then—hazy and yet so obvious as his brain registers it. the implications behind it makes his stomach churn.
quiet smiles, hazy kisses, soft goodbyes—and then the inevitable distance as he crosses over the border separating your world from his. a lone figure standing in the streets of mondstadt, always waiting for him to come back. always disappointed.
you buck your hips upward, blissfully unaware of the torrent of conflicting emotions in his head. kaeya's brain short-circuits, and then he's pushing back, a steady rhythm against your gummy walls that takes the breath out of your lungs. you savor every thrust, punctuated by the sharp grunts he lets out against your throat.
your fingers rake over his back, desperate and needy and focused on one thing only—kaeya, kaeya, kaeya.
"that's it sweetheart," he doesn't have any more control—not on his mind, his body, his mouth. they've all escaped his grasp, too spurred on by you and everything you're willing to offer him.
"'s okay…ah fuck…it's okay," kaeya groans into the column of your throat, not sure whether he's telling you or himself. the clench of your walls sends him spiraling, hips picking up the pace as he pistons his cock in and out—trying to find out just how far he can go.
then he hits one spot, and his vigilant gaze catches the way your jaw slackens, eyes glazing over even as they roll back and a shaky moan escapes your throat—surprised, unexpecting. his ego jumps.
an experimental roll of his hips against the same spot and you make a sound so unhinged that he finds himself already addicted to it. and to tease is in his nature.
"yeah? right there?" he drawls, masking his anxiousness with his bravado once again.
"right there," you whimper, nodding meekly as you grip his shoulders. he huffs out a soft laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your eyelids like he's trying to kiss away the tears that have gathered there. you preen under his ministrations—it feels a little too domestic.
he understands. it scares him, but he understands. he wonders what the point of worrying is—wonders why he's letting his paranoid brain taint this moment that he'd been waiting for. the only solution left is to ignore it. because you're here, writhing underneath him in the throes of pleasure, vulnerable and trusting and just for him. he should give you what you deserve after all.
so kaeya pushes every other thought out of his head, only focused on you and making you feel good because that's what someone like you deserves—everything you desire laid at your feet.
he presses a chaste kiss to your mouth, paired with a languid roll of his hips as he quietly groans. "okay…." his voice comes out an octave lower, pushed down by the barely concealed need for you. "okay sweet girl. i've got you."
another searing kiss as he breathes through his nose, picking up the pace again as he slams his cock into the spot that makes you see stars. your moans get louder even as they remain muffled against his lips, and kaeya can't help but dig his fingers into the meat of your thigh, leaving behind finger shaped dents in the plushy skin.
a claim—possessive, desperate, selfish.
your kisses become sloppier as kaeya leads you closer to the edge, walls clenching around the length of him, tighter with every thrust he delivers. the chants of his name have become almost reverent, and kaeya thinks his name couldn't possibly sound more beautiful than in that moment. he wonders if he could be blessed to hear it for the remainder of his life, and the thought sends pure unadulterated need through him.
his hips stutter, red hot fire coursing through his chilled veins—building, climbing, overwhelming as every sense goes fuzzy with heat. his grunts become more irregular, in time with the reckless thrusts of his cock as your cunt tightens around him greedily.
his cock twitches as you suck him in eagerly, feeling every ridge and vein as he grunts and groans and tightens his hold on you—unyielding, unrelenting, selfish.
your eyes stay locked on his even as your orgasm rips through you, and kaeya sees celestia in them—brighter than ever before. your muscles spasm, clenching almost painfully as you tremble and writhe underneath him, and he follows you to the doorstep of nirvana with a throaty groan. his hips stutter, twitching and throbbing as he pants out a broken chorus of your name and every praise that doesn't do you justice.
then he drops his forehead against yours, watching your eyelids flutter—celestial stars dim. a soft brush of your lips against his.
your muscles go lax, every guard dropped just for him—trust he realizes, trust he doesn't deserve. he doesn't know how to tell you that.
because even after everything—when you're curled up against his chest, skin warm and dewy against his own, he does not think about how he adores the feeling of your hair brushing against his arm, nor does he focus on the soft tickle of your breathing washing over him. instead he thinks about how he's ruined it all, how he's dragged you into him, and how he needs to let you go before he destroys you completely.
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at the end of the summer, kaeya tells you he can’t.
“what are you talking about?” you ask him, a light chuckle escaping your lips as you barely focus on his words. your nose is buried in some medical text, and kaeya thinks that the universe is punishing him now by making him repeat himself.
“us. we shouldn’t have…” he sighs, shoulders dropping. “i mean, we should stop…seeing each other.”
he can practically feel the way his words pull your attention and when he looks up he sees the way your grip on the book has slackened. there’s panic settling in your eyes, mixed with a bit of confusion. a conflicted emotion runs across your face and kaeya’s fingers itch to touch you. “w-why?”
it’s a simple question and he should have no problem answering it, but he struggles to get the words out, his throat constricting uncomfortably. “it was fine in the summer, when i was back here with the troops. but now i’ll have to leave and-“
“so what?” you question, turning in your seat to face him completely. his eyes drop to the shirt you’re wearing, his shirt, and he feels his heart squeezing.
“so-“ he gulps, head spinning as he tries to explain himself. he doesn’t even have a proper answer—he just knows that this is his only option. because there’s no way in hell he deserves this kind of comfort, this kind of happiness. “so i cant-“
“can’t what, kaeya?” you stress, voice going slightly higher and he only then sees the real fear in your expression.
he pauses, mulling over his words and the bitter taste they’re leaving in his mouth. he can feel the sting of your pleading stare, and he swallows hard. “can’t stay,” he finally answers, and he’s shocked at how miserable he sounds.
you look at him like he’s insane, and honestly he feels like he might be. you’re confused and rightfully so, because there are so many remnants of him left in your space, so clearly evident the impact he’s left on you.
“can’t or won’t?”
kaeya’s eyes snap up to yours, because the tremor in your voice sends a jolt of fear down to his stomach, churning and roiling until it makes him sick.
he regrets looking, because he can feel himself breaking then and there.
you’re looking at him with these shining eyes and he swears that he’s glimpses them again—the brightest stars he’s ever had the privilege of seeing. for a second he thinks the light of those stars might disappear because that’s what always happens. but they remain, glowing against the backdrop of your irises and he’s captivated all over again.
his plans to leave you in tears fly out the window then and there.
he’s reaching for your cheeks in less than a second, holding them delicately as he lets his thumbs brush over your teary lashes. there’s a reasonable bit of confusion in your face at his sudden change, but when he leans down to kiss you, you don’t protest, melting into him even though he’s so undeniably cold. kaeya doesn’t even realize he’s saying he loves you, choosing to murmur it against your lips because it’s not meant for anyone else to hear—just the two of you.
he remains there, in the quiet darkness of your room for the rest of the night, because he doesn’t want to leave your side even after he told himself he would.
and yes, he dreads tomorrow. he dreads tomorrow because he knows that he will have to choose between the comfortable home he’s found in you or the dark abyss that has swallowed his past.
he’s scared that the more he allows himself to fall into you, and the more he finds that your eyes are the ones that hold the stars of celestia, then the easier his choice will become.
he’s been chasing the stars for so long after all. now that he finally has them, why in teyvat would he let them go?
#[𐐪— rheya’s writings. 𐑂]#kaeya x reader#genshin x reader#kaeya alberich#kaeya alberich x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#kaeya smut#genshin smut#kaeya fluff#kaeya x you#kaeya x y/n#genshin impact x you#genshin x you#genshin fluff#genshin impact smut#genshin impact imagines#genshin angst#kaeya angst#kaeya x fem!reader#genshin fanfic#genshin imagines#[𐐪— mdni. 𐑂]
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game highlights/thoughts from my own eyes:
-i was standing down at the front row and azzi looked up while in the huddle, made eye contact with me, looked at my jersey, and smiled. then looked back down. this should literally be the whole list idc. imagine if i had my sign yall
-when i was walking in everybody complimented my sign and wanted pictures of it
-HUGEEE UCONN TURNOUT i was so proud of my husky nation. we were loud asf too you would've thought it was a neutral arena
-made friends with this tennessee unc behind me and another unc beside me. they were glazing azzi and paige SOOOO BAD. the guy behind me literally didnt know paige's name and would only call her buckets. and every time she had the ball he would say stay on buckets stay on buckets please don't let her shoot it. goat did 🤞. he also was watching azzi warm up and said how crazy she was and how she didn't miss. goat did again. gfs did! unc beside me looked me in my eye and said we were gonna win and how much of a star p is. we just decided not to prove him right goddamnit.
-the crowd was incredible! extremely nice people! i may have been a little too friendly at times cause my dad was telling me not to talk to people 😭 but tennessee had great people! they were mad about fouls but whatevs. also unc behind me said i was so hype and he loved it. and he came to watch paige.
-paige made eye contact with me multiple times during warm ups. she smiled when she saw i was all excited talking to my dad yelling her name. i guess pazzi were having a rizz off or sum shit. also they legit smile and act the same. in person they have the same mannerisms and have so much personality.
-p is LOUD ASF. like i could hear her from a few rows up. she leads the count and i swear my pants unbuttoned on their own.
-azzi is gorg. she's so buff in real life i feel like she'd completely swallow me in a hug. so is paige. and everybody on the team really. it's literally just face cards on the team.
-aubrey was in great spirits! she was laughing and smiling at the fans and was super happy during warmups. it made me so happy. also she's literally beautiful i'm sorry like she's so striking. she's really happy to be back playing ball i could tell on the court and off
-as soon as i walked close to p it's like the air gets sucked out of you. she literally has so much aura i've said it before. i legit dissociated for a second looking at her. and it didn't sink in that she was in front of me until like halfway through the 3rd quarter. also i don't know if this was the smell of the arena or what but somebody smelled really good and it suspiciously was when the team came closer to us.
-also whoever i met down near the court you're literally such a sweetheart!!! i hope you're on here she came from georgia and was so sweet!!
-p might be fighting the 5'11 allegations because she's SOOOO TALL AND LANKY. like literally all legs. my dad legit asked if she was 6'2. yeah right okay. but she's so long and everything on her is literally just long and muscly. had me HEATEDDDDDD in my britches.
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On Wednesdays We Murder! ⛽️ 🔥
Thanks @alectoperdita for listening to the Cry Baby playlist! It got me hype on these weirdos again. Also please go read Alecto's Lure for more mean sexy problematic vibes. It's the longest work in the ship by my estimation and so deliciously worth it!
Cry Baby is the next long project after my current WIP. Here's a sexy murder boyfriend excerpt. (PS Mokuba is not murdered Imao)
(Also I was too shy for the group intro but in case folks don't know l am @moonogre and chat fandom stuff there mostly!)
😢
"Don't play your fucking mind games with me-"
Seto's face crumbled into a rare expression of confusion.
"Mind games?" Katsuya was caught in Seto's eyes, molten gold. Something about this bewilderment looked positively melancholic on Seto, and when he spoke next, Katsuya understood why. "Katsuya, you're the one with whom I speak plainly. What do you want to know? Just ask. I'll tell you anything."
For all intents and purposes, Seto looked to be telling the truth. His face was earnest, lips parted slightly.
He was splayed beneath him, hair the colour of sea foam spilling around his head. His hands bound, Katsuya's grip on the rope. Eyes like the Midas touch: in its line of sight, Katsuya was touched, too, and all his senses gilded...
"What do you fucking want from me?" Katsuya hissed.
Seto smiled, and he would appear an angel to anyone else, but Katsuya wasn't fooled. They had just murdered the only surviving members of Seto's family in cold fucking blood.
Kaiba Seto was the fucking devil.
"I want to be yours, Katsuya," his voice had sunk into its desperate, dark promise. "And I want you to be mine. I want to watch you take everything you've ever wanted. Even if it's me." His gaze glinted, pupils blown. "Especially if it's me.”
Seto writhed a bit below Katsuya and pressed his shin between his legs, smiling at what his friction found. Katsuya’s blood thrummed in his ears, thick and loud. Seto bound in his shaking grip, chest lightly heaving, hawk-eyes gleamed in rapture. Jounouchi had fallen prey to his arousal long ago, baring down on Seto’s mouth finally. The boy barely waited for their lips wet, desperate contact to open as though he would gorge Katsuya’s soul, right from his open mouth. Katsua smoothed his tongue into Seto’s mouth and the boy moaned with a whore’s abandon that wound every sinew in Katsuya lust-tight. Katsuya clung to the coarse rope encircling Seto’s wrist and imagined how raw the bounds would rub the boy’s pale skin, vice-tight in his grip once he started his merciless rutting into him, over and over.
"I want you," Seto breathed in his ear. This close, Katsuya could smell the gasoline, and how lifeless Seto looked in the eyes as he doused his aunt's townhome in petrol, its pungent benzene wafting between them, even now. She'd wailed with her crammed hands tied through the banister, pleading for her life. The tinder had crackled when the flames twined themselves in the walls, the rugs, the rafting, raining slow burning ember. Katsuya and Seto had fled through the smoke before it could choke them.
And yet, still, they heard the begging, heard the screams. Near the foyer door, a galley wall of family portraits. Katsuya had spied one: Seto’s mother and the same screaming aunt just feet away, swaddling an infant with a shock of teal hair.
it was Seto's turn to beg now: with his body, legs fastened to Katsuya's wait, rocking smooth into him, whimpering into his mouth. Katsuya took his hand that didn't clench the rope tie and fisted it through Seto's hair. His gold eyes guileless eyes peered up at him, mouth puffy from kissing and glossy with spit. A single thread of saliva joined them and Katsuya felt like he was going crazy with how hard he was panting.
"I know you want me too," Seto said. He was soft-everything about him was, even the scent of gasoline had treacled saccharine, and Katsuya pressed himself into Seto again as if he could be pillowed into this strange softness, to suffocate perhaps, to never appear again. Seto boy laughed into his neck— the sound one made from a harmless jest, a laugh from a bad pun, a trite knock knock joke, not the laugh from a person who listened to their mother's sister beg please please Seto why why are you doing this—
"My hands are tied, Katsuya. If you are going to take me as you wish, you'll have to strip me yourself." And there it was, that smile: "Personally, I don't care if you rip these clothes right off my body.
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i have been thirsting, extremely dehydrated beyond repair for the past three days now bc of Chad Meeks Martin. i beg of you, i need more content, he’s just.. so pretty.
hi hi so if it’s not too much to ask, perhaps could i request a fic where the reader is more so friends with Tara and Mindy since she’s a bit more shy and they invite reader over for the movie night and that’s when she meets Chad?? and he’s being his usual beautiful and charming self and she’s just overwhelmed and flustered
xtra brownie points if they give off bratz doll gf x himbo jock bf pls 🥺🫶🏽💞 i love your fics, your writing is inspiring tbh ahsjwjd
Girl's Night Interruptions~
Chad Meeks Martin x fem!reader
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Request: ahhhhh you’re a GENIUS bunny!! I love this idea!! also i’m so happy to hear that my writing inspires you! ngl that almost made me cry- anyway I hope you love it gorg <333
Synopsis: At first you were reluctant, but when your two closest (and only) friends Tara and Mindy convince you to come to a movie night, you realize sometimes meeting new people is a good thing…
Warnings: none really since this is basically just fluff, use of profanity, Chad being an absolute himbo, reader being a flustered mess!
Series: Pt.1 , Pt.2
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You weren't really sure why you agreed to this. You had told Mindy and Tara time and time again that you didn't really like the idea of parties, or gatherings, or anything of the such. It's not that you were super anti-social, you just- had problems starting conversation is all. Which is why the only friends you had made all of freshman year were Mindy and Tara, who were really good at easing you out of your tiny little comfort zone. Today that came in the form of convincing you to join them for a movie night. They promised it would be super chill and fun, the perfect girl's night to end the year off! So of course, you accepted.
You were now all about halfway through the first movie on the list, Legally Blonde, which was one of your favorites. All three of you quickly ran out of popcorn to share, prompting Mindy to get up to refill the bowl. "I'll be right back guys, pause it please!" Mindy had called out on her way to the kitchen. You were now left with just Tara, who quickly filled the silence by asking you questions. "Soooo how's your college love life been going so far? Had any steamy hookups?" She asked with a laugh as she nudged your arm. You felt your face get warm quick. "Cmon Tara, you know I don't like talking about that stuff." You said casually, not really mad at her for asking. "I know, I know, I was just curious." Just as Tara said that you heard Mindy walking back into the living room, and it sounded like she was talking to someone. "NO Chad, I already told you it's a girl's night. That means you can't join." Mindy had now taken her place sitting next to Tara again, leaving who you assumed was Chad standing in front of the couch.
Did Mindy have a brother? You didn't remember her ever mentioning him. "Cmon please, you know I'm not gonna bother y'all I just wanna watch the movie!" He was looking directly at Mindy as he gestured to the still paused TV, his request being promptly ignored. "You want to watch Legally Blonde? Really Chad?" Tara was questioning him, not fully believing his motive for joining the three of you. "Yes okay? It's one of my favorites I have like half of it memorized." Mindy scoffed at that, but from the look on her and Chad's faces you could tell it was probably true. "It's still a no Chad." He didn't seem to like that answer, continuing to practically plead Mindy to join in. "Ya know what fuck this, I'm watching it." And just like that he plopped down on the couch, right next to you. It was a fairly small couch and even just the three of you had barely any wiggle room, but with the addition of Chad you were definitely squeezed together. Chad didn't seem to mind though, quickly settling in and draping his arm over the back of the couch. Mindy, feeling defeated, grabbed the remote with a sigh as she accepted the crashing of girl's night.
"Fine, I guess you're staying..." She rolled her eyes at him, and he only grinned back. "Thanks, sis!" It was only now that he realized he was sitting next to a completely random girl as he raised his eyebrows at you. "OH I'm sorry, have we met before?" He asked, hoping the answer was no so he didn't have to be embarrassed. "Oh right, no you haven't. Chad this is our friend Y/N; Y/N, this is my idiot brother Chad!" Mindy quickly answered Chad's question, being sure to emphasize the word idiot. "Well thank you Mindy for that, charming- introduction, but I was asking Y/N, not you." He gestured to you as he said your name, now making direct eye contact with you. He was probably waiting for you to say something, considering you had been silent thus far. "O-oh yea I'm Y/N and uh Mindy never mentioned she had a brother." You stuttered out, hoping you didn't offend him in the process.
"Oh she didn't huh? Well now you know!" He said as he shot Mindy a glare and then you a grin. "Anyway it's lovely to meet you, and don't listen to Mindy about me being dumb okay? What I lack in brains, I make up for with Hobbs and Shaw here." Chad flexed each of his arms as he said that, and you now realized how attractive he was. Your felt your face get warm again, now hyper aware of how close the two of you were sitting. "Ah yes classic Chad, flex your muscles within the first five minutes of meeting a girl." Tara had said snarkily, perhaps hoping to annoy him into leaving the three of you be. "Hey they're my greatest accomplishment okay! Plus I'm sure she doesn't mind, do you?" Oh you definitely didn't mind. "N-No it's fine I don't mind." You were sure your voice sounded shaky as hell as you spoke. The longer this gorgeous man was next to you, the more flustered you got. So much for a peaceful girl's night...
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Some time had passed as the four of you watched the movie in what was mostly silence, besides the occasional comment Chad had made on Elle Woods being a "girlboss" and Mindy having something snide to say in return. Their dynamic made you glad you were an only child. You had now reached the scene where Elle Woods figured out that it was actually the daughter who had killed her dad. You loved this scene, and you had the monologue memorized since you were a little girl. You quickly went to match Elle word for word. You didn't even notice that Chad had gotten excited about the scene too. "...at the risk of deactivating the amonium thyglocilate!" You had both said, or rather yelled it, at the TV in perfect unison. You saw Mindy and Tara's heads snap to the both of you in shock. "I guess he really does like the movie..." Tara said as she grabbed another handful of popcorn. "I told you it's one of my favorites!" Chad said before turning his eyes back to the screen. The shared moment between you two made you feel more at ease, so you went to agree with him.
"Yea it's mine too." You were still pretty soft spoken, but at least you had found some more confidence. You had also found hunger. "Hey Tara, can you pass me the popcorn." She swiftly handed it to you and you set in your lap, going to grab a handful. Just as your hand reached the inside of the bowl, you felt Chad's hand bump against yours as he also went to grab popcorn. It was brief, but his hands were so pretty and soft that you felt like you would remember those two seconds for the rest of your life. You were basically gawking down at the popcorn bowl now, hand still in it. "Oh, sorry." Chad said, muffled through his mouthful of popcorn. God he was so cute."Oh it's fine, don't worry about it." You said as quickly as possible, avoiding looking directly at him. He only shrugged as his attention went back to the movie. It was only silent for maybe ten minutes before Chad spoke again.
"Okay it is literally so hot in here. Is the AC broken or something?" Chad asked as he looked towards Mindy. "Yea it stopped working like two days ago, I have to call and have it fixed." Mindy replied, still not taking her eyes off of the movie. "Well it's like unbearable, I don't know how y'all are wearing jeans." He gestured towards you and Tara as he said that. You didn't realize it was hot, you probably thought it was just him. But to be fair you were wearing your favorite bell bottoms and your thin pink tank-top with a black star in the middle. So it wasn't a very warm outfit to begin with. While you were busy reflecting on your clothing choices Chad had found time to stand up in front of the couch. And now he was taking his shirt off...
You thought you were going to pass out. "Cmon seriously Chad! Do you have to find every excuse to take your shirt off?" Mindy yelled out at him. "What I'm hot okay! Leave me be." He sure was hot. Way too hot... You almost wished it was just you and him so- "Hey! You okay there? You were kinda staring off." Chad said as he waved his hands in front of your face. Oh shit. You were staring, and everyone had definitely noticed now... "Oh my god Y/N! Were you staring at Chad's abs?" Tara asked in an almost squeely voice. You wanted the ground to swallow you, mainly because she was right. "What no! I was staring at the movie!"
You rushed to defend yourself, hoping it was believable enough of an excuse. Chad wasn't buying it though. "It's okay if you were I totally get it, I would stare at me too." You were definitely blushing now. Mindy once again rolled her eyes at Chad's comment, causing them to exchange another death glare, which gave you time to change the topic. "Anyway, we should probably keep watching the movie." Chad jumped a little as you said that, realizing he was missing it and going to sit back down next to you. You now realized what Chad meant by it being hot. You only hoped you weren't sweating from the intense shared proximity.
The rest of the movie went well, although there was one moment where Chad went to adjust next to you, spreading his legs open just a little wider so that he was touching yours. You swore you almost passed out. Finally the credits rolled and Chad stood up to start clapping, it was kinda cute. "Wooooo great movie! Gets better every time!" Chad yelled as he turned to face the three of you. "Yea whatever Chad, you done bothering us now?" Mindy asked as she also stood up with now once again empty popcorn bowl in hand. "Yes in fact I am, I will leave you ladies to the rest of your girl's night." Chad said as he grabbed his shirt off of the coffee table. He went to walk back to his room before stopping to lock eyes with you. "And hopefully I'll see you again later Y/N." He said with a wink that hopefully Mindy and Tara didn't catch.
Oh yeah. You would definitely be seeing him again.
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A/N: ahhhhhhh I love this one so much! i hope i did the prompt justice even though i struggled with the Bratz vibes thing. also i feel like i could totally turn this into a series if y'all wanted, just say the word! Happy reading my gorgeous babes!
-With love, Miss Grace<33
#~grace writes!#writing#chad meeks x reader#chad meeks martin#chad meeks martin x reader#scream#scream 6#chad meeks#chad meeks fluff
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A Night for Us by Roaming Tigress Hosea and Dutch break into New York's Luna Park one Christmas day in the 1920s -- and revisit memories of Christmas pasts.
A Night for Us by Roaming Tigress
Luna Park.
A vibrant slice of electric heaven in Brooklyn's Coney Island; a picture of modernity, adventure and wonder awaits you on every corner of its expanse.
Such a place isn't where most would expect to find a pair of old men seeking (mis)adventure in the Roaring Twenties, but, here we are.
"Dutch, I don't think you're quite as nimble these days."
My idiot husband listens as well as he always has—barely at all.
"Just one more rung, Old Girl!"
He's climbing up a damn iron gate. It's part of a grand entrance with splendid art deco styling, its electric lighting visible for miles at night on Surfside Avenue. One slip could result in an embarrassing end to his storied life.
Now, I'm sure you're telling yourself: has Dutch truly lost it?
Well, possible. But I think to have "lost it", you'd have to have it in the first place.
But, let me tell you one little detail.
It's Christmas, and the park is closed on Christmas.
Did you think it would stop us?
No.
To my relief, Dutch came down from the gate on the opposite side without breaking his neck. That stupid, handsome grin of his could light up the whole park -- and the rest of Brooklyn.
"That was easy enough 'sea!"
I scoff. It wasn't easy for me to watch.
I love that fool.
Now it was my turn to come down the gate; after all, someone had to keep an eye on Dutch. It would be irresponsible for me to let him run rampant in such a place -- heaven knows what he'd do. There may be no park left to reopen in the new year!
And besides, why should he have all the fun?
I was a touch more cautious, mind; he was hovering right underneath me with his arms out as if he wanted me to let go and catch me. But as to not give him the satisfaction of wanting to play big brave rescuer, as if waiting to catch some fair maiden escaping a witch's castle, I managed to climb down the gate without as much as a scuffed nail.
"Not bad."
Now Dutch scoffed, giving me a poke to the ribs as I have done to him many times to keep him in line.
"You were worried."
I give Dutch a jab back; he lets out a most manly squeak; still ticklish!. "Funeral costs have gone up these days."
Dutch rolled with the punch. We hadn't lost a step in that area; in fact, we've gotten sharper, seemingly knowing what the other one would react, and would say next.
"Save yourself a little money and take me to the taxidermist instead!"
I threw my next punch. "As if I'd want to see your ugly old mug over the mantle!"
He dodged.
"Who said it had to be the mantle? I think I could look rather dashing over my spot on the bed!"
I sass back. Dutch is really pushing to get coal for Christmas.
"I don't think I want nightmares!"
Then I get it. I really get it.
Dutch tossed a snowball at me. I didn't even see him make it. I expertly dodge.
"Almost!" I brag, tossing one right back, getting him square in that wonderful big forehead of his and acting completely oblivious to it.
And then he hands me the old man's memories card as he whirls me under his arm, with much the same elegance and grace he had done when he was younger. "You used to say, 'almost' isn't good enough."
I was referring to aiming his gun; he wasn't terrible at shooting, but let's just say, I polished up his skills. And here he is, haunting me with those words some thirty-odd years later -- in the context of snowball fights.
He laughs that hearty laugh as he spins me around again, out into the grand entrance of Luna Park's electric circus.
Only the 'circus' has packed up the tent for the remainder of the week.
Gone are the bustling crowds that would pour through this spot where Dutch twirled me. Many would be rushing towards ticket booths for their rides -- perhaps the Parachute Jump, the Dragon Gorge -- while others visiting the concession kiosks to fuel up for the day; popcorn, peanuts, cotton candy. Those families who took in the stunning marvel that is the Electric Tower watched trained leopards perform and rode the latest state-of-the-art rides have settled in their homes for the holidays, maybe listening to holiday tunes on the radio.
There's still a faint smell of buttered popcorn in the air from yesterday's Christmas Eve, the last day the park was open for the year. And indeed, some was left behind in a popcorn cart. It was parked by a souvenir shop which sold pennants featuring the trademark grinning 'Tilly' face stamped on with 'Luna Park.'
I see a sparkle in Dutch's eye; I know what he's thinking. First popcorn, then a pennant.
I quirk an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm sure that popcorn's stale now -- "
Dutch flashed me a cheeky grin, acting as if I hadn’t seen him snatch a pennant and shove it into some hidden pocket of his coat, which I’m convinced leads to an endless void. It's probably where he stashes all those plans.
"It'll only get more stale without someone eatin' it."
Before I could retort, he whipped out his trusted lock pick from an inside pocket of his black bear fur coat and flashed it to me with a grin. He knew damn well he could have got through the gates with it, but where was the fun in that?
"We could get popcorn theft to our list of crimes, 'sea!" He made a showing of picking the lock of the popcorn cart.
Yes, I'm excited about the prospect of that report getting around; Hosea Matthews and Dutch van der Linde are now wanted for the theft of stale popcorn and a Tilly pennant on Coney Island's Luna Park on Christmas. Rival gangs near and far would flee in terror.
Still, I take my bag from him -- costing me a nickel -- and let him lead the way.
I snort, leaning in as I munch on a few pieces, taking in the eclectic settings. I've secretly made a mental note to come back in season, a surprise for our wedding anniversary.
"I think the Pinkertons would be stretched to their resources with that one."
Dutch chuckles; more easily amused these days, even by his own little comments and jokes, and I cherish it.
"What would you say if I took you on a ride?" Dutch asks smoothly, pulling me close in his arm, making it impossible to resist. I could have retorted with a quip about him already taking me for a ride, but I chose to let him run the show. He's a little frailer these days on account of the rigours of old age, but, he still holds me close and his hold is snug, almost shoving me into his coat. I feel so warm, almost not needing my own.
An inner voice said no, this was luna-cy; what would he know about operating one of these things? He decided that if nobody was around to operate, he'd play the part himself.
Foolish, very foolish.
But I said, yes.
I've said 'yes' to a lot of risky things in my life; starting a gang, willingly getting myself into all sorts of schemes, situations and scenarios to varying degrees of success -- a few that resulted in me getting caught and put behind bars -- but getting married to Dutch van der Linde was the biggest risk I have ever taken. In our stories, I may come upon as being completely exasperated, and while there may be some truth behind that, I do not regret saying 'yes' to that man.
Damn it, I love Dutch.
A reminder of how much I love him was when he offered me some of his popcorn in his fingers. I have plenty of my own, but . . . I softly nibble it out of his fingers, gently brushing them with a kiss. The wondrous surroundings we're in almost seem to have melted away.
"You remember our first Christmas when I did that . . . ?" Dutch asked in a tone softer than his usual.
I smile, leaning my head against his shoulder as he leads me down past a kiosk that hawks linen textured coloured postcards during the park's opening hour, just behind the gates. He swiped one behind the desk and into his coat it went. Another crime on the Pinkerton watch.
"I do . . . " I smile; that was nearly forty years ago. We had scammed a gentleman into taking a horse with hung papers (falsified pedigree) and well, he wasn't too pleased about it. We chose to lay low versus taking on the gang he ran with, a rough bunch that once dominated Grizzlies East.
"I remember it being incredibly windy and cold and watching the snow blow around as we popped the popcorn over the fire. Nice little homestead out by Window Rock. You were still a little bit shy, but so charming. You heard my stomach rumbling and thought I needed a snack break. So you took some popcorn out of the bowl and offered it to me by hand."
Dutch gently twirled me again, past a ticket booth, and another kiosk that sold cotton candy. The sweet smell still lingered there, though not a trace was left, to our disappointment.
"You ended up having most of the bowl. I settled for dried venison and cranberries."
Mercifully he got a turkey later on in the day when the snow cleared.
I shake my head, letting out a feigned dramatic sigh. "Are we going to bring that up again?"
"Either that or the ugly gloves I made you." The crinkles around his eyes are more evident now as he smiles, particularly when he feels cheeky, and I love them all the more.
"Don't remind me!" I tease.
Oh, they were ugly gloves, made of cowhide poached from Emerald Ranch, but oh, they were loved. And despite the crudeness of their design, they lasted damn near nine years.
"Were they really that much uglier than that satchel you made me?" He laughed, leading me past a series of shuttered kiosks; they held little interest to him as there was nothing visible for him to grab.
"You told me it was from bobcat, but I ain't never seen a bobcat grey with black stripes!"
It was one of my earlier attempts to con Dutch. No need to judge; I learned from that experience.
He led me down further into the park, past more shuttered vendors and snow-dusted children's rides, before we came up to an elegant carousel, the Ocean Wave. It was a beauty brought in for the 1907 season and was due for replacement. The horses were still elegant in design but paint was well worn on their saddles and the horse hair tails were sparser now, evidenced by much use. But like us, there was still some life left in the old gal.
"I think a carousel would be more of your style?" Dutch suggested, gently easing me in front of him for me to take a better look. I caught him earlier eyeballing the tall wooden structures of roller coasters further into the park. I tugged at his sleeve in a polite 'no.' He had pretended to not have noticed, in his eagerness to take me on a tour of the grounds.
My eyes bright up even more than they already were. Yes, I love carousels; I always have, ever since I was a boy (and I was one at one point). This man knows me a bit!
"Might as well take a spin on her before she goes for firewood," I muse with a twinge of sadness, taking in the intricate craftwork, and step back as he hits the switch of the power. My adoration of them was infectious; it was yet another opportunity for Dutch to get sappy with me.
"I suppose I could trust you with a carousel." I chuckle, choosing a grey horse that looks much like my dear old Silver Dollar, and Dutch hops on, right behind me, a bit of a surprise given I thought he was going to choose the white horse in front.
But I can't complain.
Dutch secured me with a gentle embrace as the horse, in a frozen mid-gallop, moved up and down in a gentle rhythm with the music. The natural light was dimming now, and a big "pop" of the light would surely draw attention from any security guard if there were any in the area. Admittedly, it added a little excitement.
"Just in case you fall off," Dutch teased, leaning that wonderful cleft chin on my shoulder. "Saving you the embarrassment of going out on a stolen away ride on a carousel."
I scoff. "Getting me back from earlier?"
"Maybe." I didn't even need to turn around to see that he had that grin on his face again.
I had to grin as he kissed me on the cheek. Now I know the real reason for him joining me on the ride; just to nuzzle as many kisses on me as he could until the end of the ride. He was being terribly distracting, but I couldn't get mad; he was being awfully sweet.
"You really haven't forgotten much, have you?" I asked in a gentle tone, reaching a hand around to touch his; he had been forgetting the odd thing, such as locking the doors, and then worrying if he hadn't locked them, sometimes waking up from a deep sleep to do so, but he's held onto nostalgia like a steel trap.
Dutch answered me with a distinct hint of vulnerability, that had been absent since his arrival in the park. "You don't let me forget."
I unexpectedly feel a catch to my throat as he leans in to give another soft kiss on the cheek.
"You're right, I don't."
I give that hand, slightly more bonier than it once was, a gentle squeeze.
"Do you remember that state fair we went to?" I could hear the smile in his voice. "Went on the night it officially started. I wanted to kiss you on the carousel."
Dutch's nostalgia pool is still deep.
And that was what brought us to New York; Dutch had wanted to keep those memories alive by reliving them again. While the gang remained outside the city limits, he stole me away for Christmas, not giving me a hint as to where we were going.
I carefully turn around in his arms, careful not to slip and give a reason for Dutch to play hero by readying to catch me again, and slowly, tenderly, we kiss. This time, I'm holding him, as if subtly telling him to not worry about his memories; I'll always have a hold onto them for him.
At that moment, the rest of the world seemed to melt away, and it was only us. In our minds, the infirmities of old age had melted away and were replaced with our youth again; only I pictured Dutch wearing his mustache. Now your preference may differ (facial hair is a subjective matter) but when I look back, I think he looked a bit silly without it.
Our kiss broke when the music slowed to a stop. We hadn't even noticed the sky had faded from its pinkish-blueish hue of a winter's sky to near black. We were lost within each other, something that has been happening with comforting frequency as of late.
"Even better than that time, 'sea."
I've always loved how he had shortened my name, short already. It's endearing.
"I think we could check out the Electric Tower and . . . " His eyes light up, and his features are handsomely reflected by the carousel lights that had yet to shut off.
"I think I have a surprise."
He had been studying some sort of map for weeks leading up to the move to New York; now I know what he was planning.
Off we went again, but not before Dutch hit the switch on a pole for electric power, and it was then that the park truly became electrifying; one by one, brilliant displays of lights switched on, and some rides even came to life.
One of those rides was the famed Dragon Gorge.
Against my better judgement, I decide to let Dutch drag me along onto it. To those not familiar, think of an ornately decorated indoor rollercoaster, featuring mock scenes of varying dioramic scenes of our nation, from the Arctic and Rocky Mountains to historical events, such as the Battle of Port Arthur, the explosion of the U S.S Maine which got us into the Spanish-American War. Guarding us on our journey were a set of magnificent 45-foot-tall plaster dragons poised outside, with a fantastical wing span. Like the horses we rose on, they were intricately designed, with green, glowing eyes.
The ride -- an idea borne out of sheer spontaneity out of Dutch -- was more fun than I had anticipated it to be, and when it came to its stop, off we went to that majestic Electric Tower.
This was a structure made for the 1901 Pan-American Exposition, and a sign boasts of having no less than 44, 000 lightbulbs, eight watts apparently. This amazing display of modern design was featured in Dutch's stolen postcard. And speaking of the devil, Dutch had wanted to climb up it for a better view -- and drag me along. For amazing as it must be, I stood my ground firm; we had enough climbing for one day, let's not further risk the wrath of the trespassing gods, I didn't think I could catch Dutch if he lost his footing and fell.
And so off to the next destination, our surprise destination; something, to my delight, as something I was a bit of an old master in.
Ice skating.
The venue is converted for swimming in the summer, but for now, it was a skating rink for two.
A few stolen pairs of rental skates later, and we were out on the ice. My beloved husband, bless him, has long lacked coordination in this department. For several years I have patiently tried to help him skate somewhat more gracefully than a skittish moose on a frozen lake. After six years, we finally concluded that we can't all be good at everything, even Dutch.
But oh, how delighted he was to find out there was a skating rink in the park, for me!
"That's it, Dutch, I think . . .I think we're finally getting it!" I spoke proudly when his long legs had at once stopped acting like they were made of rubber; he was slightly cheating, as he carefully held onto me, but he was trying, for me.
"It only took eight years," Dutch scoffed.
I gently corrected. "Fifteen."
Another snort from my husband. Stubborn as always!
"Nonsense."
I stood my ground.
Again.
"Fifteen years."
As Dutch crossed his arms like a petulant child, he realized he wasn't holding onto me. Slowly but surely, he came to the realization that, by George, he's finally got it.
I gently took the lead when I felt we were steady and ready, and slowly, we kissed, under this night for us.
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