#my little bird enthusiast

[asklynxnip]

you should talk about crows...or whatever

-@featherridge

”AHHHH, THANKS FEATHERRIDGE!! Did you know that —

It is a common bird found throughout much of North America. American crows are the New World counterpart to the carrion crow and the hooded crow of Eurasia; they all occupy the same ecological niche. Although the American crow and the hooded crow are very similar in size, structure and behavior, their calls and visual appearance are different.

From beak to tail, an American crow measures 40–50 cm (16–20 in), almost half of which is tail. Mass varies from about 300 to 600 g (11 to 21 oz), with males tending to be larger than females. Plumage is all black, with iridescent feathers. It looks much like other all-black corvids. They are very intelligent, and adaptable to human environments. The most usual call is CaaW!-CaaW!-CaaW!. They can be distinguished from the common raven (C. corax) because American crows are smaller and the beak is slightly less pronounced; from the fish crow (C. ossifragus) because American crows do not hunch and fluff their throat feathers—-“

(/american crow wiki page lmao)

[zenwinter]

Grian & Scar sketch dump 🌻💕

[waitineedaname]

i think my favorite thing about the boops is getting boops from people who do not follow me, but come across one of my posts. i really like seeing one of my posts get liked or reblogged and then immediately getting a boop from that person like "hey I liked your post an extra special amount, here's a smack on the head"

[seventh-district]

so uh. that 2.2 Special Program, huh

[bluemoonrabbit]

I went birding today, which I'd never done before, and it was delightful on so many levels. Everyone there was a big nerd who wanted to either share info or listen to info. Every single bird was exciting. I'd kind of assumed birding was about sighting rarer birds, and people did definitely get more excited when something less mundane popped up, but even sparrows got people stopping to fumble for their binoculars. I'd also thought it might involve some early morning trekking to get to where the good birds were, but instead it was an incredibly leisurely meander along a flat river path, at a very reasonable hour. And since it was PDX, half the (quite large!) group was queer.

[ratatatastic]

so you guys wanna explain whats going on here or is this just another we'll let this fade into obscurity with no explanation whatsover at all

[kashverse]

*inhales* PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GIVE US MORE TEACHER NANAMI AND TEACHER READER OLEASE I AM BEGGING ON MY KNEES I PROMISE TO GIVE YOU MY FIRST CHILD EVERYTHING YIU NEED PLEASE JUST GIVE US MORE TEACHER NANAMIII 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

everyone keep their children to themselves...!!!

the day nanami realized he was madly in love with you was not some dramatic, earth-shattering moment. no, it was when he walked into your classroom, expecting to borrow a simple whiteboard marker, and instead found you holding a live pigeon like some kind of disney princess. "why," he began slowly, blinking at the scene before him, "are you holding a pigeon?"

"oh, hey, nanami," you greeted him, as if nothing about this situation was abnormal. "meet genie."

"genie." he repeated, tone flat.

"yeah! the kids wanted to name him 'mr. pipi,' but, you know… obvious reasons."

nanami pinched the bridge of his nose. "right. obvious reasons."

the children were gathered around you, eyes wide with wonder, absolutely enchanted by the pigeon sitting comfortably in your hands. the bird, for whatever reason, looked completely at peace. in fact, it looked happy. "we were talking about birds today," you explained cheerfully. "and i thought, what better way to learn than with a real one?"

"and how did you acquire a real one?" nanami asked, already dreading the answer.

"i found him in the parking lot. he just let me pick him up."

"of course he did," nanami muttered, because if there was anyone who could just randomly befriend a pigeon, it was you. as you continued your enthusiastic (if wildly inaccurate) explanation of bird anatomy, nanami barely registered the nonsense leaving your mouth.

“this is his wing, and he uses it to flap around.”

("very informative," nanami murmured sarcastically.)

“this is his beak, it's like a built-in spoon!”

("i'm going to pretend i didn't hear that.")

“and his feathers help him fly, just like how airplanes have wings!”

("you are personally offending every biologist alive.")

but the kids were enamored. they nodded along, absolutely believing every word you said. meanwhile, nanami’s class—who had followed him like little ducklings—stood in the doorway crying about how they wanted a pigeon too.

"mr. nanami, it's not fair!"

"we wanna see genie too!"

"why does their class get a cool bird and we don’t?!"

nanami sighed. “we are not getting a pigeon.”

a week later, nanami's class had a hamster named pringles. “so,” you said, leaning against his desk as he watched pringles roll around in his little enclosure, “how does it feel, being out-parented?”

"we are not their parents," nanami deadpanned.

"aren't we?" you grinned. "i mean, we literally argued over pet custody. we had meetings to ensure genie and pringles had separate, safe spaces. you had a full-blown existential crisis when genie tried to eat pringles."

nanami massaged his temples. "genie should not have been near pringles in the first place."

"oh, so now you agree with me?" you teased. he sighed. "i always agreed with you. i just—" he cut himself off, lips pressing into a thin line. you tilted your head. "just what?"

he glanced at you, at the way you smiled at him so effortlessly, and he felt the realization hit him like a freight train. 

he was so incredibly, hopelessly in love with you.

"...nothing," he muttered. "i'm going to lunch."

"oh! combined lunch today?"

"no."

you laughed, and nanami hated how it made his heart race.

[malusokay]

5 Classics for girly girls 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Emily of New Moon

The bittersweet process of growing up and finding where you truly belong... The perfect read for the start of a new school year. After her father’s death, Emily Starr is sent to live with her snobbish relatives at New Moon farm. Thrust into an unfamiliar and often cold environment, Emily faces numerous challenges. However, as time passes, she begins to adapt and discovers the beauty in her surroundings. With the support of her new friends—Teddy, Perry, and Ilse—Emily not only finds solace but also discovers her own creative talents, helping her carve out a place for herself in this new chapter of her life.

“If it's IN you to climb you must -- there are those who MUST lift their eyes to the hills -- they can't breathe properly in the valleys.”

Jane Eyre

A true classic for all my fellow gothic-lit enthusiasts, Jane Eyre, reminds us that everyone deserves a love that consumes, challenges, and transforms the very core of your being, offering both profound joy and deep heartache (we love a good situationsship). Following Jane Eyre, an orphaned and mistreated girl who endures a harsh upbringing but grows into a strong, independent woman. As she takes a position as a governess at Thornfield Hall, she encounters the enigmatic Mr. Rochester, sparking a profound and tumultuous romance. Their intense connection is marred by secrets and personal demons, revealing the complexities of their relationship.

“Jane, be still; don't struggle so like a wild, frantic bird, that is rending its own plumage in its desperation." "I am no bird, and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being, with an independent will; which I now exert to leave you.”

The Secret Garden

Mary Lennox, a spoiled and neglected girl, is sent to live with her uncle after the death of her parents. Initially ill-tempered and withdrawn, Mary’s curiosity is sparked by rumours of a hidden, abandoned garden on the estate. As she explores and begins to restore this secret garden, she experiences a beautiful shift (glow-up era). The once gloomy and sickly Mary starts to bloom alongside the garden, rediscovering happiness, vibrancy, and a sense of belonging, making the story a heartwarming tale of growth and recovery.

“At first, people refuse to believe that a strange new thing can be done, then they begin to hope it can be done, then they see it can be done--then it is done, and all the world wonders why it was not done centuries ago.”

Pride and Prejudice

Truly a classic that has shaped my romantic expectations hahah... Elizabeth Bennet battles societal expectations and her own misjudgments in 19th-century England. When the aloof Mr Darcy (he'd totally be a ghoster in the 21st century just saying...) first crosses her path, their initial encounters are fraught with tension and misunderstanding. However, as Elizabeth delves deeper, she uncovers the complexities of Darcy’s character and her own heart.

“I could no longer help saying that I loved him. I loved him not only for his sake but for his own sake. I loved him because he was the only person who had ever really loved me for myself. I loved him because he had made me feel that I was worthy of being loved.”

The Little Prince

A young, otherworldly prince from a tiny planet travels across the universe, meeting various inhabitants and learning profound life lessons. His journey brings him to Earth, where he encounters a stranded pilot and shares his reflections on love, loss, and the essence of human connections. Through whimsical adventures and encounters, The Little Prince explores the importance of seeing with the heart rather than the eyes and reminds us of the value of friendship and innocence.

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched; they are felt with the heart.”

you guys asked for more academia/book stuff so I thought this might be a nice start, especially since I know that many of you are just getting into classics; these are all very much suitable for beginners!! <3

love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[roguishcat]

Fangs and Cheeks

Summary: Astarion is an ass man.

Excerpt:

“I don’t expect any physical intimacy. I love what we have. I love you,” you said truthfully. “But um… You being lost in the moment, being so feral about it… It felt nice.”

“My rutting against your ass like a hormonal hound would with a bitch in heat? I’m sure it was a magical moment,” he quipped sarcastically.

Word count: 4.3k

Rating: Exlicit (MNDI)

Tags: Dry humping, PinV sex, orgasm denial, somnophilia kink, Reader being a bit of a brat, brat taming (if you squint), Reader having a danger kink, Reader denying that she has a danger kink, oral (female receiving), soft dom Astarion, smut and fluff, Astarion is loved, smug Astarion

A/N: Please tell me if you notice typos and mistakes. ❤️ Constructive criticism is appreciated. Comments are always loved! ❤️

(dividers by @saradika)

Once you and Astarion were in what you would call a ‘proper relationship’, you quickly discovered that he was a very tactile person. Astarion hated being touched out of the blue, grimacing and stiffening if anyone got too near for his liking. Yet, he was rather partial to keeping his hands on you. He was especially fond of your derrière, making sure that it received plenty of attention from him.

In hindsight, it's been this way ever since you first slept together. An occasional brush here and there. His hand on the small of your back moving further south than was necessary. The little squeeze that could be nothing but your imagination. Just you being hopeful and wanting your feelings to be reciprocated. Because you were under no illusion that your romp was nothing but that.

Astarion was gorgeous, ethereal, and intoxicating. All sharp lines and velvety words. Words which time and time again affected you in a way that you'd not thought possible until you met him.

And you? As much as you wanted there to be more to your trysts, you were painfully aware of the fact that you were conveniently there at a time when he felt like blowing off some steam. 

Yet, as you fought your way through the Shadow-Cursed Lands, shared victories and supported each other through the horrors that awaited around every corner, you felt a change. Like something between you shifted just enough for Astarion to start looking at you in a way that had your heart fluttering like a caged bird.

His touches became softer. He lingered. Held you closer, spent more time with you than necessary. Instead of drinking from you when you were asleep, Astarion would find an excuse to be in your tent whilst you were still awake, as if wanting to hear you ask again and again if he was in the mood for a nibble.

Astarion started sharing more of himself with you, telling you of what he had been through over the past two centuries. And you realised that perhaps to Astarion you being there for him, standing up for him, seeing him as a person, was novel and very welcome.

When Astarion confessed, nervously telling you of his deception, his guilty conscience not allowing him to take advantage of your affection for him any longer, you assured him that being with him was enough.

More than enough.

With you agreeing to abstain until he felt ready to resume the sexual part of your relationship, Astarion seemed to come to enjoy just being with you, exploring intimacy that other forms of touch brought.

You felt giddy every time you asked for a kiss and Astarion agreed most enthusiastically. Kissing you deeply, both his hands squeezing your butt tightly, kneading the soft flesh in a way that had you both moaning into the kiss.

Lae’zel would roll her eyes and march past you with a huff, muttering something unsavoury under her breath about istiks and their peculiar mating rituals. Her words would go completely ignored.

Shadowheart would smirk and pretend to be annoyed, remarking that if they were to be subjected to seeing you be all over each other, at least some change in repertoire would be nice.

Gale would suggest that for the sake of the others he would be more than happy to teach you to cast Silence.

You were not really sure why everyone assumed that you and Astarion were doing more than share each other’s space. It never went past kissing. And perhaps a little under the shirt action. Just as you agreed, you gave Astarion space and time to figure out what he was comfortable with. The two of you would hold hands, cuddle up to each other, share heated looks and sweetest kisses that made your toes curl. And without fail Astarion’s hands would eventually be touching, patting, squeezing, playfully slapping, or pinching your ass.

So, it really was not that much of a surprise when you woke up one fine morning with Astarion rutting against your clothed backside. Now, whilst you had no issue with your vampire enjoying himself, having explicitly stated to him on several occasions that you were game for whatever he would come up with, you were not entirely sure what to do now.

Should you just stay still? Judging by how his pace was picking up and the way his gentle grunts were becoming more audible by the second, Astarion would be done soon. He was clearly so lost in the moment and eager to chase his release that he didn’t even pick up on the change in your heartbeat.

Most of the time you slept like a log. It would take wildebeest stampeding past your tent for you to stir. Which is probably why Astarion, having made plenty of quips and jokes about your almost impressive ability to fall asleep in any place as soon as your head touched the bedroll, was not being particularly careful about being quiet.

Yes, staying still was probably best. If you were entirely honest, Astarion wanting you so desperately was doing wonders for your confidence. And the moans and muffled grunts, his cool fingers on your hips, soft curls tickling the back of your neck, got you hot and bothered in seconds. You two weren’t intimate in... a while. And whilst this was not exactly how you thought you would next be intimate, you'd take it.

And then you felt your nose itch. What started as a just little itch that had you scrunching you nose in annoyance was becoming worse by the second. Oh, hells! You were going to sneeze!

You tried to turn your head ever so discreetly to the side and rub your nose against the bedroll. Surprisingly enough, even you moving got absolutely zero reaction from Astarion. And this would be the end of your predicament if you were anyone but the unluckiest woman in all the realms.

Your violent sneeze was like a clap of thunder on a still night.

As you blinked your watery, bleary eyes, you realised that Astarion stopped, the fingers gripping your hips no longer there. You gulped, not really sure what to do now that it was abundantly clear to the both of you that you were very awake and very aware of what was happening moments ago.

“Do you want to tal-”

“I’d rather not,” he interjected quickly, and you felt him moving away from you.

Panicking, you grabbed onto his sleeve, making him still.

“Are you really so adamant on prolonging this unbearable moment?” Astarion asked tersely, making you wince. Yet your fingers did not lose their vice-like grip on the fabric.

“Or do you want to tell me all about what you think of my disgusting, despicable behaviour?”

“I- I don’t think it was disgusting,” you cleared your throat, a blush blooming on your skin. “Not even a little.”

“I was kind of… into it,” you admitted with some reluctance. Because what kind of person did that make you? A very sexually frustrated one, that’s for sure and certain.

“Oh?” you heard the lilt in his voice as he lowered himself back onto the bedroll, settling beside you but not quite close enough for him to touch your back. Realising that you were still holding onto his sleeve, you let go, his arm moving out of your line of sight as soon as your fingers were no longer holding on.

“Why?”

The question caught you off-guard. You didn’t really want to tell him the truth. How embarrassing to admit that you would jump through hoops for his attention, even after him telling you explicitly that you were ‘well and truly taken’.

“Do I have to answer that?”

“No. But I would prefer it if you did, my sweet.”

The endearment made you relax a little. Picking up on it, Astarion drew your body closer, one hand settling back on your hip. You shivered as you felt that he was hard still.

Reigning in your raging libido, you reminded yourself that you were not to jump his bones and were to remain a perfectly well-functioning adult about this. You’d tell Astarion what you felt without giving yourself away so much that he’d feel pressured into anything.

“I don’t expect any physical intimacy. I love what we have. I love you,” you said truthfully. “But um… You being lost in the moment, being so feral about it… It felt nice.”

“My rutting against your ass like a hormonal hound would with a bitch in heat? I’m sure it was a magical moment,” he quipped sarcastically.

“Oh, you don’t have to make it sound that hot,” you laughed and put your hand on top of his cool fingers, running your fingers along his knuckles in soothing, comforting strokes.

“What I mean, it felt good to be desired, wanted by you.”

Your awkward confession and gentle touch got him to relax a little, you could feel it when he put his chin on your shoulder. You could also feel something else that you would very much wanted to press into. On top of. Around. You were not picky.

But you stayed very still. And that was pure, sweet torture.

“Make no mistake, I want you constantly.” Astarion’s cool breath tickled your skin and set it ablaze. “If it were up to me, there would be far less adventuring and helping out those pesky refugees, and far more time spent feverishly enjoying each other.”

He sighed and kissed your exposed shoulder. You grasped onto whatever restraint you had and pressed your lips together.

“But it seems that it is not up to me,” he went on. “So, when my trance was interrupted by you moaning my name in your sleep, I felt a stir. And I just- just went for it. I don’t know what I was thinking. I doubt that I was thinking at all. Not with you making those delicious sounds and you being so close. I apologise.”

“Astarion. I love you. And I did tell you on more than one occasion that I’d be happy to try anything. Consider this as us trying something new.”

“What happens now?” Astarion murmured.

“What do you want to happen?”

You didn’t get a reply. Licking your lips, you decided that perhaps a gentle suggestion would not hurt. Astarion knew that he could say no. That you would never hold it against him.

“If you like, we can pick up where you left off.”

“Meaning?”

Well, it definitely wasn’t a ‘no’. There was a distinct huskiness to his voice that made you feel that perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing to tell him exactly what you thought.

“I think that you should finish what you started.”

“Tsk, naughty. Who knew that you would be into something like that?”

“Who knew that you were so into my ass?”

He snorted and muttered something that sounded like ‘not yet’.

“Dearest, have you seen how leather lovingly cradles it? Nothing is left to the imagination. I can scarcely tear my eyes away long enough to fight whatever horror is sent after us!”

He was moving again and you bit your lip to stifle your moan, wondering if you could angle your body to get friction where you most needed it.

Astarion noticed. Of course he did.

With a breathy chuckle, you felt his fingers move fabric aside, sliding into your underwear.

“Allow me,” he grunted into your ear.

“Such a gentleman,” you sighed, spreading yourself a little wider to give him more to work with.

“Of course! How callous would it be to leave a lady… wanting,” he punctuated the last word with a thrust of his hips. “Although, one cannot help but wonder, what were you dreaming about that had you moaning my name, hm?”

“What was I doing to you, dearest?” Astarion asked and moved his clothed erection against the swell of your ass, his fingers circling your clit with light, unhurried movements. You bit your lip harder, not wanting to alert the whole camp to what was going on. Astarion adored the blush that overwhelmed your skin.

“Oh? Don't feel like talking right now? How about I guess. Let me see… was I gentle? Did I whisper sweet nothings into your ear as I took you slowly?” Astarion teased, lifting himself a little off the bedroll so he could see your face better.

Hm. No change in your heartbeat, no spike in arousal. Clearly, that wasn’t it.

“No,” you confirmed his suspicions, “you were not.”

“Naughty,” he clicked his tongue and gave a pleased chuckle. "How absolutely delightful.”

Astarion’s thrusts took on a different rhythm to match the increasing speed of his fingers working you.

“So, I was rough, wasn’t I?” He pressed a fang against the hot skin of your neck, biting down on sensitive flesh without breaking skin.

“Yes,” you squirmed and pushed back, making his eyes slam shut. You shivered as a strained groan tore itself from his lips.

"Fuck," he hissed, releasing your neck to put his lips on a pulse point.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Must have slipped," you said grinding yourself against the bulge beneath the leather. Because you were past the point of reasoning and definitely way past having any restraint. Astarion spoke of not wanting to be treated like he was made of porcelain. Perhaps pushing back just a little would be exactly the right way to show that you weren’t walking on eggshells around him.

Astarion’s ruby eyes narrowed dangerously, yet a smile curled his lips.

"Do you really think you can play me so easily?"

"Oh, no. I would never!" Your gasp was so theatrical it made him bark a delighted laugh.

"Ha! Trying to outplay me, dearest? Well, it is not going to be that simple.” Astarion purred and tilted your head, so you'd look him in the eyes. The expression on his face was as arrogant as it was tantalisingly attractive.  “I am always the one in charge when it comes to playtime, you'd do well to remember that, my sweet."

He nipped your shoulder blade, humming in satisfaction at the shiver this elicited.

"If I recall correctly, you were in the middle of telling me your dream."

Ah, yes. You did remember that he wanted you to talk. Talk whilst he was overwhelming you with sensations, his nearness, his scent, just his everything. Sure. You could probably manage to string some words together.

“You were rough.”

“We’ve already established that.”

 And perhaps to another, more merciful being, that would be enough to let you off the hook. Astarion was hardly known for being merciful.

His fingers slowed down, making you thrust your hips forward. Astarion clicked his tongue and nipped the exposed skin of your shoulder, “Go on, dearest.” 

“It was after a battle, you were still in your armour.”

“I’m glad that I am such a consummate lover I needn’t even strip.”

“Sex dreams don’t have to make sense, alright?”

“No, dear,” he chuckled. “I’m so very sorry, do continue.”

“There isn’t that much more to it. I woke up before we actually… well. But um-”

Oh, you might just as well go for it. Astarion knew full well that he was intoxicatingly handsome. What he didn’t know was when exactly you found him most attractive.

"I- I enjoy seeing you fight."

“Would that be a danger kink, per chance? Do you want me to take you in the middle of a battlefield? Or should I feel worried over your throwing looks at others, hm?”

"No, it’s you. Every move so precise and purposeful. Your muscles straining, metal singing against metal. You are beautiful, and sensual, and confident, and powerful."

“Go on,” he whispered with a quietness that was at odds with the possessive way he griped you. You felt Astarion grind against you. Slowly, indulgently. The hand not working you moving from your hip to your ass to give it a tight squeeze that would definitely leave a mark.

"I see you and I marvel at your tenacity, the stubborn set of your jaw as you refuse to give in. Your curls tainted red, your eyes set on your target as you strike with cruel precision."

“My, my, who knew you were harbouring such fantasies. Such deviousness under that sweet façade. Only you could care for such a monstrosity.”

“No,” you cut him off sharply. “You are not a monster.”

You licked your lips as you thought of how to make him understand.

“You are many things. My friend, my confidant, my lover, my protector. I’ve never had that before you. I trust you. And that-,” you whimpered, eyelashes fluttering, a tear rolling down a heated cheek.

“Yes?”

“And that makes me want you even more,” you admitted as you saw stars, Astarion’s fingers not breaking their rhythm, sending a wave after wave of pleasure rippling though your body. Finally, his hand stilled.

You panted, turning your head enough to the side to rest your cheek against his cool one. Closing your eyes, you let your body sag against his.

“I take it you enjoy dangerous things, darling?” Astarion whispered into your hair.

“Most pretty things are,” you forced out between breaths. “And you are the prettiest, handsomest rogue I’ve ever seen.”

"Love?" Astarion shifted and moved, and you felt his fangs graze the sensitive flesh of your neck.

"Yes."

Please.

He bit down to take long, greedy gulps, both his hands clutching you to his chest. Having been told that he could taste how you felt made you wonder, what secrets was your blood revealing? What sensations he drew into his own body from yours with every gulp?

"Clothes off. Now.” Astarion ripped himself away from you, not wanting to overindulge and leave you weak.

"But why? I thought you wanted-"

"Love, I don't always know what I want. But this is one of those times when I do."

Suddenly, Astarion was gone, making you whine in protest.

“Underwear off,” he commanded whilst fumbling with his clothes, his voice raspy because of the emotions he was struggling to contain.

You were more than ready for this. But you were feeling cheeky. So, with a smirk, you lifted yourself off the bedroll until your lips were an inch from his, your warm breath on his cool skin.

"A lady likes to be asked."

He gritted his teeth but relented. "Please, love."

"Tsk, don't pout, Star. Was it really so hard?"

"No. But this is,” he snatched your hand and put it on his length, giving himself a few strokes with his fingers clenched tightly around yours. “So be good and do as I say. Off."

You felt a shiver dance down your spine as he called you a good girl. He was playing dirty, and he knew it. This time you obeyed almost instantly, fingers shaking as you took off your smallclothes.

As soon as you discarded them, Astarion was behind you again, naked from the waist down. You turned your head to look over your shoulder, taking in his face.

Desire, need, lust.

He stared at you like he was desperate to have you. Perhaps in a way he was. You gulped, feeling giddy and excited, and also very pleased with yourself for choosing to wear a cotton slip to bed.

Angling your arm a little awkwardly, you reached for Astarion and your thumb flicked over the sensitive tip, making you gasp when his hips surged forward.

“Touch me again,” he ordered when your hand began to leave him.

“But I-I want to feel you inside.”

“Soon. Good girls who wait get fucked best, didn’t anyone tell you that?” Astarion taunted, though he knew that he was the one suffering.

His mind was clear, he was present, his eyes on the face of the one who loved him so tenderly and fiercely. He wanted to fuck you into the bedroll right there and then more than anything in his life. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to have a little fun with your first.

“Touch me, I know you want to.”

Perhaps you did, but that was beside the point.

“I need you, Astarion. Please.”

“Soon. Get to it, love.”

No matter how much he willed himself to stay still, Astarion’s hips jumped as your hand went up and down his length, moving to cup his balls and caress them with gentleness that had Astarion cursing himself for not just giving in.

“Astarion,” you whined, not quite recognising your own voice.

“Fine.” One arm wrapped around your waist, he pushed you back down against the bedroll. “Since you ask so nicely, I will indulge you.”

You were going to snap at him, but then whatever what you were going to say turned into whimper when you felt the tip of his dick rub against your entrance. You were still sensitive, and a shiver ran through your body at the slightest contact.

He gave a few shallow fucks before finally, finally giving you what you wanted.

Astarion dropped his head onto your shoulder as his hips began to grind and roll. His cock slid deeper, flexed against inner walls. He pulled out, slamming back into you and enjoying every soft hitch in your breath.

“You’re so tight. Fuck,” Astarion groaned out, nestling into your neck as he picked up pace.  “I won’t stop anymore, love. I can’t stop,” he admitted huskily. He no longer had the strength to control himself.

Astarion parted your legs to give himself better access and tore at the cloth still covering your body, the fabric tearing under his rough treatment to expose one of your breasts.

“Astarion!” Your protest turned into a whine.

“I’ll buy you a new one. I will buy ten,” he chuckled darkly and kissed your back.

“I’ll make sure to remind you,” you hissed and moaned, feeling a hand cup your breast and move to roll a nipple between long, dexterous fingers.

You were so, so close. It was maddening how well this man knew exactly where to touch you.

And then his hand was gone and you felt Astarion withdraw abruptly, leaving you concerned and panicking.

Was this too much? Was he- Oh! Oh.

Whatever thought you were about to have next died a swift death as Astarion’s tongue flicked between your folds, your throaty, desperate moan encouraging him to continue.

His tongue thrust forward, and then again, and again and-

“Astarion,” you half-sobbed, face falling forward. You held the pillow against your mouth to try to silence whatever obscene sounds you were about to make.

Legs shaking, fingers gripping the pillow so hard that your knuckles turned white, your second orgasm hit you hard, Astarion not stopping until he saw that you were finished.

Rising a little on shaking hands, you took a few steadying breaths.

“What happened to ‘I can’t stop’,” you managed.

“I slipped.”

You gave an inelegant snort and turned weakly to face him, legs and arms trembling. Astarion grinned at you cheekily, finding that he rather enjoyed how much of a mess you were. Hair mussed, clothes torn beyond repair, the red imprint from where you pressed the pillow into your skin, and the way you could barely hold yourself up.

He did all that. And he was not even done with you.

Astarion lay down onto the bedroll, pulling you down beside him, hands snaking round your middle and holding you close.

"I want that, you know," you felt him exhale. "I want to be the man you see," Astarion whispered, face hidden in your hair, as he entered you with utmost gentleness. Pausing briefly he just lay next to you and enjoyed the sound of your still ragged breath, the rapid heartbeat, the warmth of your skin. You felt on hand trace patterns on your waist as it moved down, settling on the swell of your hip.

And then Astarion was moving again. Slow, so toe-curlingly slow at first. Then a touch faster, settling into a rhythm.

"You already are. You are strong.”

“Yes.”

He was speeding up, this time ready for his own release.

“You are free."

He moaned and whimpered, hips stuttering, thrust turning desperate.

"I love the man that you are."

He bit down on your shoulder and you winced as fangs peirced skin, rivulets of blood staining what was left of the cloth that barely covered you.

"I love you, Astarion."

He thrust once, twice and then again and- oh. Astarion fucked you through his orgasm and then more still, until he felt himself grow soft, his spend trickling down between your bodies.

He drew in a breath he didn’t need and shuddered as the last wave of pleasure coursed through his body.

"That was amazing," you lifted his hand to your lips to kiss his knuckles.

“Well you have to say that now, after you had your way with me so thoroughly,” he said with an air of a virgin defiled by a rake.

“Are you saying that it was me that seduced you?” You turned your head to see him grin.

The nerve of that man!

“As if you didn’t know what you were doing to me when you wore that,” he pointed a finger what used to be your sleepwear, “to bed.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you huffed.

“Perhaps then I should give you-”

“Will you two fuckers stop fucking already, it’s too early for all this!” Karlach bellowed from her tent.

“Gale?” Shadowheart groaned in dismay, probably wishing she put her tent up further away from Astarion's.

“On it.”

“Did he just cast Silence on us?” Astarion heard your voice in his mind.

“I believe we were a little too loud.” The elf wiggled his eyebrows at you as you felt him make use of the tadpole.

“This is mortifying,” you groaned and tried to hide your face behind your hands.

“Well, if they needed their beauty sleep, should have told the wizard to cast the spell earlier,” Astarion shrugged, looking completely unapologetic, and slapped your ass, delighting in your surprised squeak. “Besides, we can be as loud as we want now.”

“You are kidding, right?”

“I do not kid.”

“Astarion! No!”

“Yes.”

He rolled you onto your back and started kissing from your collarbones down to your breasts.

“No,” your voice had a little less conviction, weak hands pushing back silvery curls and tracing the tips of his ears .

“Yes.” Astarion lifted his head for a moment, ruby eyes filled with adoration, only to continue his descent.

“Oh, fine,” you gave a happy sigh, feeling him hum against your skin in approval.

You knew that you should probably feel chastened now that you knew you cost your companions precious hours of sleep, but you felt floaty and content, and far too well-fucked to feel too guilty. You would deal with the inevitable looks and comments later.  And then Astarion did that thing you liked with his tongue and you did not give anyone another thought for quite a while.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

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@nyx-knox, @vividiana, @khywren,

@maeryls-journal

[foldingfittedsheets]

Back in the dawn of days I worked at Red Robin. It was my first real job after a brief stint at a dog kennel. Many people don’t know this but there’s a costume. A Red Robin mascot costume. I’d never seen it before I worked there.

He’s a violently red bird with empty eyes, a vacant grin, the most atrocious yellow leggings you’ve ever seen, and feet to make any Kingdom heart character swoon. His name was Red.

I was a host, and we were the only ones called upon to wear the costume. We’d don the bright yellow tights and corporate fursuit with someone leading us by the hand so we didn’t crash into everything.

The mesh screen in Red’s gaping mouth was supposed to let the wearer look out. Visibility was a joke. The restaurant was a dark gray haze of bustle from inside Red’s head. So every Tuesday and Thursday there’d be a two hour shift of a designated Bird Buddy leading the visually impaired sacrifice around.

After being forced to wear it during a heat wave and vomiting from the overwhelming temperature, I had vowed to never wear it again. But every new host always had a tiny secret longing to wear it when they first started. This desire never survived the full two hour shift.

So I was working a day shift with a newer host, Lauren, who had been openly enthusiastic to wear it. The manager hustled up to tell us that a little kid was here for his birthday and desperately wanted to see Red. We weren’t scheduled but impromptu requests could be accommodated when the restaurant was slow.

I said, “Great, Lauren can do it and I can be her buddy.”

I grabbed the hapless Lauren and dragged her to the dry goods storage where the suit was stored and where we changed. I closed the door and dragged the suit down. It had a particular greasy ground in smell to it.

Frying food, hot oil, and body odor had all permeated the faux fur with a unique reek. The management mouthed empty nothings that the suit was sent for monthly cleanings. It was common knowledge they were lying through their teeth. The smell of Red was eternal and unchanging.

“Okay, so take off your pants, put on the tights, then step into the body and I’ll zip you up. Then you get a vest and the head goes on last, got it?”

Lauren stared at me. I stared back. She made no move to change.

“Okay…” I repeated, “So you take off your pants and put on the tights?”

Lauren shifted nervously, silent. Not changing.

“Do you need me to turn around…?” It hadn’t occurred to me that she might be shy based on her personality, all the hosts were fairly blasé about changing in front of each other.

“I didn’t….” Her voice dwindled to a decimal only perceivable by bats.

“What’s that?”

Blushing vibrantly she raised her voice to the level of a tiny mouse to squeak, “I’m not wearing underwear….”

I stared at her harder. Our uniform pants were dark denim jeans. The thought of rubbing my bare pussy into denim for a whole shift was on par with dry humping a sheet of sandpaper. “You’re… you’re not wearing… anything?”

She shook her head miserably.

We both regarded the yellow tights worn by most of the host staff. We contemplated a lack of underwear being pressed into those communal tights, adding to the miasma of Red’s smells.

But I was sure as fuck not getting in that costume.

“Make sure to take the tights home and wash them.”

Her eyebrows went up. She met the bitter steel in my eyes and crumpled. I turned my back and she did what she had to, slipping naked as a babe into the neon spandex of Red’s tights. Lauren trustingly kept a grip on my hand as I navigated her through trays and tables to terrify the tiny birthday boy.

To the best of my knowledge, she never did wash the tights.

[specshroom]

Ok so what do you think would make a monster INSTANTLY attracted to someone. And then how do you think they would vocalize/show it?With said monsters being orcs, merfolk, centaurs, driders, werewolves, and vampires

Okokok so these are all obviously just my opinion :) but here we go:

🧌 I think in orc culture the women initiate romantically and sexually just as much as the men, as opposed to human culture where the men generally are expected to initiate more. So I think any orc would find it hot if you were the one to flirt and initiate contact first.

- They like humans who know what they want and go for it.

- They like humans who can hold their liquor. They just think it's hot.

- They like humans who are a little vulgar. Who swear and shout and are a little rowdy maybe?

- So if you want to attract an orc your best bet would be to just go up to one and flirt heavily with them. If they like you they'll think it's hot that you show your attraction so boldly and they'll flirt back just as hard.

🧜Merfolk generally keep to themselves and their underwater cities. For a merfolk to be swimming in shallow waters means they're probably curious about the surface already.

- These merfolk will be instantly intrigued by a human who is as interested in them as the merfolk is with the surface. They just really like humans who try and talk to them, frantically ask them questions about their species and just seem enamored with their existence.

- A merfolk will fall for a human who brings them cool human stuff they've never seen before and enthusiastically tells them stories about the surface world.

- They'd appreciate humans who aren't scared to swim with them. They know the water is not a humans natural place and that it takes a lot of trust for them to be so vulnerable. They'd straight up take that as a confession of love from the human.

🐎 In my head centaurs are often depicted as strong stern types. Like noble warriors and such so I think they'd admire humans who are resourceful and independent.

- They won't like any human who disrespects nature. Killing unnecessarily or destroying/ littering wildlife is an absolute no go.

- They like outdoorsy humans who like nature walks or mountain climbing, that kind of shit. Anything from fishing to bird watching really.

- They find archery very attractive for some reason.

- Centaurs are known for being steely and almost cold so if one likes you they probably won't show it immediately but slowly over time by engaging in your shared interests.

🕷️ I think driders are often starved for affection. In my headcanon, driders don't get much affection from their parents because they're very independent and able from a young age so they're never really coddled as children.

- So I think driders would like a human who treats them very gently and sweetly despite not needing too at all because they're fierce hunters.

- They're not the most approachable monsters with their eight beady eyes and venom filled chelicerae. They don't initiate with humans much because they know they can be frightening. It can be isolating for them so they'd love if a human showed no fear towards them and instead treated them as if they were cute rather than scary.

- They'd be absolutely smitten if a human coddled and babied them, calling them grossly sweet petnames like "cutey", "darling" or "baby" while caressing their face gently. Just treating them with such care even though they could kill the human very easily. They might even cry from the affection.

🦇 I think vampires appreciate humans who aren't childish but still have a love for life. People who are lively and curious about the world but still mature and driven.

- I think humans who are exciting and have a thirst for life is what attracts vampires cus it helps them reignite their own love for life which may have dwindled after so many years of being immortal.

- Humans who are reckless with their own lives are a turn off. Vampires already have to experience losing many close ones due to immortality so I don't think they'd appreciate someone who disregards their life or the lives of others carelessly.

- Vampires are harder to categorise because they all come from different backgrounds and stuff but I think if a vampire liked a human most of them would have to know one for a while before bringing up anything serious. They understand the stakes (hah) of falling in love with humans and act accordingly.

🐺 Dog people. Werewolves like dog people. Sorry I know it's basic but I think werewolves are often simple creatures so what attracts them is relatively simple. Nothing wrong with that.

- They see a human walking their dog and they just go "I have a chance!!"

- They like humans who smell like their dog or have dog fur on their clothes, they think it's cute.

- They think it's so cute when humans baby talk dogs while giving them pets. It makes their own tails wag sometimes.

- Now that doesn't mean they like being treated like dogs cus they don't. They just think a dog person is a huge green flag in humans.

- Don't worry, this doesn't mean they hate cat people but they are more likely to flirt and initiate conversation with someone who has a dog or who smells like they own a dog.

[desperate-gay]

jealous alex morgan? im obsessed with how you write her

Childish Jealousy

Alex Morgan x fem!reader

minor SMUT 18+ in the beginning

summary: your wife’s jealousy comes in the most unexpected ways

a/n: first universe incoming with @occasionallyaurora !

“Fuck, Alex.” You breathe, hips instinctively lifting to chase the warmth of your fiancée’s sweet tongue. Her hands tighten around your hips, pinning you down, her nails pressing half-moon marks into your skin.

The slick sounds of her mouth lapping you over fill the air, mingling with the soft chirping of early morning birds outside the window. A bead of sweat rolls down Alex’s forehead, the heat from the blankets making the space between you sweltering.

“Please don’t stop, baby, just like that. I’m so close.” You writhe, fingers tangled in the sheets as your teeth sink into your lower lip to muffle the moans threatening to spill out.

Right as you’re about to teeter over the edge, your bedroom door bursts open with a little girl barreling straight for you two. You sit up as quickly as possible, fixing your hair to look like you weren’t just getting eaten out.

“Mommy!” Charlie cheers, waddling to your side of the bed, reaching out for your hands.

“Hi, honey! Good morning.” You muster up a smile, grasping the girl’s tiny hands.

Alex huffs under the blankets and thumps her head on the inside of your thigh, realizing that she was just proven wrong.

“What’s mama doing?” Charlie asks, tilting her head curiously to the side, staring at the big lump under the blankets.

Your heart stutters and eyes slightly widen. You lightly smack the back of your fiancée, signaling for her to get up and for the love of god wipe her face.

“Mama is just being silly. Why don’t you go downstairs and put on some cartoons while mama and I get ready to make breakfast, yeah?” The little girl enthusiastically nods and tramples off, allowing you to let out a sigh of relief.

Alex peeks out from under the blanket with a sheepish smile, chin resting on your stomach. Her brown hair sticks to her forehead, blue eyes still blown with lust, lips glistening with evidence of what should have been your perfect morning.

You however are not so amused.

Your core aches, the pleasure that had been coiling so tightly now completely dissipated. And to top it all off, you have a three-year-old to entertain.

“Good morning my beautiful fiancée.” Alex says with a charming smile but is quickly shut down by one look from you.

Huffing, you shove her aside and yank your underwear and pajama shorts back into place. Alex watches as you toss the comforter off and storm into the bathroom, punctuating your exit with a sharp slam of the door.

The brunette stays seated in bed, staring blankly at the wall with a deep sigh. She runs her fingers through her bed head, combing through it to untangle the minor knots.

Minutes later, you reappear from the bathroom, shoulders slumping as you sink into the end of the mattress.

“I told you so.” You say, voice low and pointed.

Alex barely lifts her head from her phone, though her gaze flickers with guilt.

“I told you we didn’t have enough time, but you insisted—”

“And I am so, so sorry, my love.” Alex scoots up behind you, slipping her arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.

“Mmm, I know you are, and that’s why you will be going downstairs and making our daughter breakfast while I go take a much-needed shower.” You place a chaste kiss on the girl’s cheek before getting up to gather your clothes for after the shower.

—

“That was a long shower.” Alex teases as you step into the kitchen, freshly dressed and looking far more put together than earlier.

“Well I had to give myself my own o-r-g-a-s-m which was remarkable by the way.” You taunt, spelling out the word because your daughter sits at the kitchen table, waiting for the pancakes your fiancée is currently flipping.

The striker freezes, expression dropping at your admission.

You smirk as you pluck a piece of fruit from the counter behind her, pop it into your mouth, and stroll over to Charlie.

“Shit.” Alex curses under her breath when she realizes the pancake had been left on one side for too long.

“Hey, honey. How’d you sleep last night?” You ask the young girl beside you who is currently scribbling away in her coloring book.

“I slept good. I dreamed about my stuffed animals talking to me and we had to save you and mama from the king of the wolves!” Charlie rambles enthusiastically while you smile and nod your head with a huff of laughter.

“Did you save us?”

“I don’t know! I woke up before the end.”

“Oh no.” You dramatically gasp with a hand on your chest.

You and Charlie both talk and giggle with one another as you help color a butterfly in on her page. Alex watches from afar with a soft smile on her face, never getting tired of seeing you two together.

“Did someone call for pancakes?” Your fiancée walks over with a plate full of the fluffy food, some vegan for herself and the rest regular for you and Charlie.

“Thank you, my love.” You smile, looking up at Alex who begins to lean down for a kiss before a tiny hand blocks her way.

“Wha—”

“My mommy.”

You giggle behind your hand at the little standoff happening in front of you. Alex pouts, glaring playfully while Charlie scowls right back.

This behavior has been highly usual with Charlie for the past couple of weeks. She is constantly attached to your hip whether it’s movie night, taking a walk, or even sitting at the dinner table.

Alex thought it was just a phase, but now she’s starting to wonder if her kid is stealing her fiancée out of spite. She’s not sure what Charlie could possibly be spiteful about, but that’s the only explanation she can come up with.

“Alright you two. Let’s sit down and have some wonderful pancakes mama made for us, yeah?” Charlie’s glare is soon wiped off her face, cheering when she notices your smile.

“Here you go, pumpkin.” Alex reaches over to help cut the food up for Charlie when the young girl smacks her hand away. Your fiancée recoils with a small noise and a shocked look.

“I want mommy to do it.” Your daughter huffs, switching her look to you with puppy dog eyes.

“She wants mommy to do it.” Alex mutters under her breath, mimicking the toddler’s tone as she hands you the fork and knife.

You smile sympathetically at the striker, rubbing your free hand up and down her back in reassurance.

After breakfast, Alex heads to the living room with Charlie after you insisted on doing the dishes since she cooked. Alex doesn’t argue. You’re always on about balance in a relationship which started because she insists on pampering you 24/7, and you wanted her to have a break too.

Alex plops down in the middle of the couch. Charlie, however, sits as close to the edge as she possibly can, still holding a grudge over mama stealing you earlier.

A few minutes later, you walk out with a relieved sigh and slump onto the other side of Alex. Your fiancée lifts her arm to wrap around your shoulders with a warm smile only for Charlie to immediately hop between you two, shoving her little body in the middle.

“You do know she’s my fiancée, missy.” Alex says, quirking an eyebrow when Charlie grasps onto you like a koala to a tree.

“But she’s my mommy.”

“So I’ve heard.” Your fiancée mutters, rolling her eyes.

With a dramatic sigh, she starts to scoot down the couch, but before she can, you reach out.

“You know, there’s plenty of room for all of us on the couch.” You extend your hand out for the striker, Charlie intertwines her hand with yours first.

“No! Only room for me and mommy.”

You bite your lip to contain your smile when you see Alex’s nose flare and eye twitch at the little girl’s statement. Your fiancée swiftly gets up and slowly walks behind the couch, dragging her index finger along the backside of it.

“Well,” she murmurs, circling like a predator, “how would you feel if I got a kiss from Mommy?”

She gently tilts your chin, about to steal a kiss when Charlie’s little hands grab onto both of your cheeks and yanks your attention back to her.

“Mommy, look at me!”

You chuckle, placing a quick kiss on Charlie’s forehead. Alex, however, glares at her tiny nemesis.

The tall brunette eventually gives up and stomps upstairs with a loud groan.

“Where are you going?” You call after her.

“Somewhere where I’m actually wanted. Our bed!”

—

“Someone’s grumpy today.” Jaedyn mutters to a nodding Naomi, both watching Alex angrily kick a ball across the field.

“She’s been like this all week! Someone’s gotta do something.” Naomi sighs, shaking her head as Alex stomps off to get some water.

As practice continues, your fiancée’s frustration only seems to escalate. The rest of the team bears the brunt of her aggression: forceful passes, irritated groans, and an overall short fuse.

“What’s going on with that limp, Girma?” Casey asks, having noticed the discomfort of the defender the past few minutes.

“Just some tightness and cramping.” Naomi waves her hand in dismissal, but Casey quickly shakes her head and points to the tunnel.

“Go visit, Y/n, and get that kink sorted out. Can’t have my best player hurting.” The coach winks with a smile.

You're sorting through paperwork when a familiar figure appears at your door. You look up with a smile, tucking away some files before walking over to the exam chair where the girl is sat.

“Hey, Nay! What’s going on? Someone told me you were coming due to calf issues?” You ask, slipping on some rubber gloves for precaution.

“Umm, actually I’m feeling just fine. I came here to talk to you…about Alex.”

Your hands freeze mid-motion before you pull the gloves off, brows furrowing slightly.

“Oh.”

Naomi watches you with her lip tucked in between her teeth, wondering if she has intruded on something she shouldn’t have.

“Well what’s going on with Alex?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows

“I don’t mean to intrude, so if I am, please tell me. But she’s been grumpy all week, and today it’s even worse. I’m not sure if anything happened between you two or what’s going on because you both drive here together and look just fine.”

Inhaling, your eyes wander across the room wondering what could make your fiancée happy at home but grumpy here. Now that you think about it, your fiancée has been acting a little off at home, and maybe she’s concealing it more there because of Charlie.

“Nothing happened at home that I know of. Did she say anything or did someone say something before she got in this mood?” You question, attempting to get any information to help with this new found mystery.

“Huh, I never thought about that. Oh! Emily brought up Alex needing to get laid as a joke a few days ago.” Naomi rolls her eyes repeating the statement, realizing how blunt it sounds out loud.

And suddenly it clicks. Alex hasn’t been grumpy at home, she’s been clingy and pouty. You realize this Charlie clingy situation has been affecting her more than you thought, having barely any time for each other.

Naomi watches your mouth open and head tilt with a nod, signaling you may have figured out what’s wrong.

“I think I know exactly what’s going on.”

—

“Mommy, I don’t wanna go!” Charlie cries out, clinging onto your leg while Servando watches with an amused grin.

“Don’t you wanna spend time with daddy? He even said you can have ice cream before dinner!”

“I did?” He raises an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yes you did. Remember?” You smile with gritted teeth, nodding your head down at the little girl who is clinging so tight to your leg you feel like you’re losing circulation.

“Right! I remember now. Don’t you want ice cream with daddy, and maybe some Disney movies?” Servando extends his hand, watching Charlie peek her head out from your leg.

“I guess, but you promise you will miss me?” You almost melt at the question.

“I’ll miss you so, so much, my Charlie-girl. But you’re going to have so much fun, you might even forget about me for a little while!”

She gasps dramatically at the thought, eyes wide as if the idea is absurd. But after a moment of contemplation, she finally nods, letting Servando scoop her up. You send him a grateful smile, throwing in one more thank you before they head out.

Alex, however, has no idea about this little change of plans. Normally, Charlie would be home tonight, but realizing how little time you and your fiancée have had alone, you decided to surprise her.

And now, with the house empty and a rare moment to yourselves, you set the perfect mood.

Around an hour later, keys can be heard jingling at the door before Alex appears in the doorway. She hesitates, eyes narrowing as she notices the lack of light and sound in the house. It’s unusual. Normally, she’d be greeted by giggles, the hum of cartoons, or at the very least, your voice.

Her steps are slow and cautious as she makes her way through the house, not wanting to wake up what she figured was a two person nap. Once she finally makes her way up the stairs, her eyebrows raise at the dim light spilling through the crack of your bedroom door.

Pushing it open, she stops dead in her tracks.

“What’s going on here?” The striker asks, scanning the scene before her.

Candles flicker across the room, casting soft golden light. A trail of rose petals winds from the doorway to the perfectly made bed, the air thick with the scent of vanilla and jasmine.

Then her eyes land on you.

“Welcome home, baby.”

You step out from the shadows of the bathroom, wrapped in navy blue lace, the color that makes her weak. Two flutes of champagne rest in your hands as you slowly make your way to her, the sway of your hips hypnotizing.

Alex watches you with barely concealed hunger, placing her phone on the bedside table before sinking onto the edge of the mattress. You approach her with a sly grin and carefully straddle her lap, careful not to spill the liquid in the two glasses.

Flipping your hair to the side, you hand her one of the glasses. Alex takes it, fingers brushing over yours as her gaze lingers over your body.

“What’s this all for?” She asks, voice thick with curiosity.

“We haven’t had enough time to ourselves, so I figured I’d surprise you.” You hum, roaming your finger along her jawline.

“And Charlie?”

“With Servando.”

Alex exhales slowly, a smirk tugging at her lips as she sets both glasses aside. Her hands find your hips, fingers tracing the delicate lace, exploring every curve as she takes you in like a masterpiece.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Alex whispers with dreamy eyes.

“Maybe wished upon a star.” You tease with a smile, tilting your head.

She chuckles, but the sound is quickly swallowed when you lean in, capturing her lips in a kiss that turns desperate in seconds—needy, just like the two of you have been.

Alex’s grip tightens, her hands roaming with growing urgency. Whatever patience she had is long gone.

“Maybe I can make up for that morning that was interrupted a few days ago?” Your fiancée mumbles against your lips, voice dripping with lust.

“Just fuck me, Alex.”

[konigsfavgirl]

꒰ Adorable König Habits & Routines Outside the Military — as promised my pookies :3 ꒱

Early Bird Energy: König wakes up ridiculously early, even on days off. He tries to stay quiet, but he still ends up making tea, pacing the apartment, or doing light stretches—his huge frame moving around while you’re still dead asleep.

Overgrown Houseplant Dad: He has a weirdly soft spot for houseplants. He waters them with too much care, occasionally talks to them “You’re growing well, ja? Keep it up.” and panics if a leaf turns yellow.

Notebook Hoarder: He owns way too many notebooks, some filled with tactical notes, some with random doodles, and some… just empty because he likes having them. Don't let me mention the silly patterns for notebooks he owns.

Clumsy Giant Moments: For someone so skilled in the field, König is shockingly clumsy at home. He constantly bumps into doorframes, accidentally knocks things over with his elbows, and hits his head on hanging lights. Later he tries to explain why your favorite decoration is fixed with glue magically.

Candle Enthusiast: He secretly loves scented candles. If you ever mention liking a particular scent, you will find a new candle of that scent appearing in the apartment. He would insist lighting one if you two are having a movie night — it spikes up the atmosphere

Protective Blanket Tucking: If you fall asleep on the couch, König has to tuck you in properly. He carefully drapes a blanket over you, making sure you're warm. If you shift even slightly, he freezes, afraid he woke you.

Big Spoon 90% of the Time: Even if you start off cuddling face-to-face, König will unconsciously pull you against his chest in his sleep, wrapping himself around you like a human weighted blanket. Gentle

Alarm Clock (For You, Not Him): Since you’re not a morning person, he wakes you up in the softest ways possible — rubbing your back, whispering to you, or placing little kisses on your forehead until you stir.

Absolutely Awkward with PDA: König wants to be affectionate in public, but he’s so tall and intimidating that he overthinks it. He’ll lightly brush his fingers against yours instead of holding your hand—unless you grab his first. Then he melts.

Buys You Snacks Without Asking: If he notices you like a certain snack, you’ll always find it in the kitchen. He never asks, he just stocks up on it like some silent provider instinct kicks in.

Waits for You to Get Home Like a Loyal Dog: If you come home late, König is either waiting by the door or lying on the couch, pretending he wasn’t waiting for you. Expect the long cuddling session if you were away for too long.

Secretly Loves When You Play With His Hair: If you ever tug on his hood and ruffle his hair, he groans dramatically, but he never stops you. If you start braiding it? He’s suffering but lets you do it anyway.

Terrible at Saying No to You: You want to steal his hoodie? Done. You want him to cook something random at midnight? Fine. If you give him the right look, he just sighs and does whatever you ask.

[saltymarshmall0w]

Dp x DC blerb

Danny jumped, seeing Dick outside his window. He was perched on the ledge almost comfortably and waving enthusiastically. 

Danny ran over the past ten seconds in his head, trying to remember if he used any ghost powers, as he hurried to open the second-story window.

“Why did you resort to climbing my walls?" Danny asked incredulously, watching Dick tuck and roll into his bedroom like a freaking acrobat. "I would have been down in two seconds!"

“Dicky-bird here was raised in the circus. He’s just like that.” A man, probably between Danny and Dick’s age, but giving off a much gruffer vibe, also climbed in through the window, landing with a heavy thud of his boots. 

He stood up to his full height, revealing himself to be built to approximately the size of a brick house. Even though Danny just saw it, he had no idea how the man fit through his window.

“Uhuh,” Danny answered, so focused on wearily watching who must have been one of Dick's mentioned "baby brothers", he missed the little kid that simply materialized by Danny’s elbow. He glared up at Danny like a particularly judgmental cat.

[thatonefishfriend]

hello my dear king enthusiast

share some king hcs? or just any hcs in general

Okay I have a few, though I'm probably gonna make that a separate post! But here's one hc that I like the most:

So King is awkward at first when he gets roped into getting along with Purple's friends. (Because Purple wanted him to and who could say no to that face.)

But, once King gets more comfortable hanging around the CG, He starts calling each and every one of them their own unique nicknames. And it's one of those Dad nicks where he calls you "Squirt" or "Pipsqueak".

Purple - "Purple Nurple", "Hummingbird", "Purple Plum", "Small fry", "Little Bird", "Stinker", Etc.

TSC - "Hoop", "Donut Kid", "Picasso"

Red - "Furball", "Tiger", "Fists", "Karate-Kid"

Yellow - "Glasses", "Sparks", "Sherlock"

Blue - "Smurf", "Blue's Clues", "Treehugger"

Green - "Hotshot", "Fisher", "Grasshopper"

The Group as a whole: "Skittle Squad", "Power rangers", "Highschool Boy Band"

Everytime this happens and he calls for one of them, it's like a guessing game every time a new nickname is introduced.

And then they make fun of whoever got it.

His list is ever growing.

[yzzart]

"𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞."

pairing: peacekeeper!Coriolanus x reader.

word count: 2.411!

summary: you would never think you would be brought to a filthy place by Coriolanus.

warnings: +18!, p in v, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, biting, mention of blood, possessiveness, pet names, dirty talk, explicit words, explicit content.

Lucy Gray's enthusiastic voice, used to captivating and enchanting the attention of anyone in the surroundings, was completely muffled and a little inaudible, but impossible to be silenced; the lyrics, which told stories she lived and told, remained understandable. — They were always understandable and manifested.

So, like the citizens, workers and survivors of District 12 who were present in the environment and sang, danced and got in sync with the girl. — Some were drinking, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere, without worrying about their lives and listening to singing.

Perhaps, you would be included at some table, drinking, or not, trying to put something reasonable in your unbearable mind or letting your pride, your envy for, respectively, the winner of district 12 and sing along with her. — And then forget what happened the next day.

Well, that is if Coriolanus hadn't dragged your hand and taken you to an empty, dirty and, terribly, poorly lit corridor with such an inappropriate and filthy intention. — Dirtier than that environment.

"Look at you." — His voice mixed in the song and against its pure poison, the one you were used to delighting in, and a false softness; pretending to care about your sly whining. — "Such a dirty girl, huh?" — A question you wouldn't dare answer, you wouldn't give him that taste.

You knew, he knew, that he was right. — Coriolanus was never wrong; not even when he wanted to be. — The delightful situation you allowed yourself to commit to was indecent, unworthy; risking all the good and distinguished manners he learned at home in the Capital. — And something that, clearly, your parents would be disappointed in their naive daughter.

Coriolanus held and pressed your delicate, vulnerable body on his lap, pinning your back to the old-fashioned, rusty, unfamiliar wall and imposing your legs around his waist. — With the peculiar fact that his cock is buried and so concentrated in your pussy; warming and enveloping him insanely. — The feeling of his clothing fabric caused distress and burned your skin a little, it didn't bother you at all. — His hands grabbed your thighs with determination, forcing, in the future, marks from his fingers in the region.

The young and current peacekeeper was marking every part of your body; even those spots that were not visible and so hidden with clothes.

But who are you kidding when it's a guy you sacrificed your exquisite life for? Even with him severely violating the rules imposed in the game and knowing the risks involved, what would he, in fact, lose in his life. — A proof of love like this was not seen or witnessed in times like these. — And you did it for Coriolanus.

Your conscience was against the fallacies uttered from the melancholic and questioning lips of your parents, who did not assimilate the reason for your decision and request to be transported to where Coriolanus was destined. — They denied it, at first, but they agreed in distress and begged for you to be okay; and even bribing some captain to pay attention and protection to you. — Honestly, you didn't need a miserable captain because you knew who you could count on and who could protect you.

These were the words of Coriolanus, upon learning the story, your first report and confession upon meeting him. — God, you remember every word.

"Did a bird bite your tongue out, my dear?" — He gasped against your sweaty and nibbled neck, and that, for sure, in the next few hours marks would appear on your sensitive area and you didn't know how you were going to hide them. — "Tell me, hm?" — Coriolanus, not satisfied with the previous and present marks, left a long and intense suck and lick on the marked spot.

"Coryo…" — You moaned in a drawn out, almost silent way, running one of your hands through his rough, cut hair; you missed your beautiful and soft curls, that change was terrible and so painful for your eyes. — "Can anyone…" — Taking a deep breath, you tried to find words. — "…appear here."

And you were right, at least there was a reasonable streak of awareness in your mind. — Coriolanus didn't matter, he didn't care, and he wouldn't listen to his words; This was, incredibly, unbearable.

It was a corridor that led to some rooms and, probably, small and mediocre rooms that held drinks and small, ordinary portions of food; therefore, someone could pass by there. — A drunk, a person looking for a calmer environment, a peacemaker or even sweet Lucy Gray looking for you. — Anyone could conceptualize that moment.

"Oh, but it would be quite a spectacle, wouldn't it?" — Coriolanus deepened, even more, his body against your; causing a more sudden and surprising contact of his cock against your pussy. — You two moaned together. — "And deep down in that silly little head of yours, you'd love it." — He took a deep breath, licking the bite he left on his neck. — "I know that, my dear."

Coriolanus deeply hated the attempt to be deceived; the dishonest and undignified way people believe they could lie to him or at least hide what is truly going on in their skin. — He committed such an act, it became too ironic for his tongue. — Snow felt disgusted.

However, he found your attempt to pretend to believe in a certain concern funny; he was delightful, exciting.

Coriolanus's reddened lips, mixed with the taste of your sweat, distributed wet and quick kisses to your lips, which were nibbled and had some rather discreet marks of blood; if he weren't so busy, your lover would scold you for hurting your bold and beautiful mouth. — Before deepening a contact between your lips, Coriolanus curved a sharp smile, as evil as his true thoughts, and releasing a brief laugh that vibrated his chest.

Coriolanus had you in the palm of his hand.

Wasting no time, Coriolanus joined your lips against his, crushing and sucking them; forming such an obscene and inappropriate kiss accompanied by wet noises and whimpers. — Coriolanus's poisonous tongue moved, abruptly and rudely, through your mouth, as if he didn't know it, and fought for space, a domination that had no conditions to exist. — There were quick and anxious contacts between teeth, but nothing that could interrupt you.

Your hand remained in his coarse hair, while the other rested on his clothed shoulder. — You wanted, more than anything, to mark that arrogant man; and you wanted until the end to be able to leave at least a simple scratch.

When disconnecting his lips from yours, Coriolanus runs his teeth across your lower lip, biting and pulling, not exaggeratedly, at it. — Your mouth is shining, his too, from the mixing and distribution of saliva. — And the deep, vigorous, petulant blue eyes of Coriolanus looked at them with insatiable desire; as if he truly wanted to devour them. — As if a serpent saw its fragile and naive prey.

That man, for whom you would destroy your life for, was the very plumbing and aspect of one of the worst things that world could fear and observe. — And Coriolanus will do everything to ensure that your exquisite presence is at his side.

"When i'm done…" — Coriolanus cursed, shaking his head, moving his hips and returning to continuing the slow, silent thrusts. — "…when i'm fucking done with all this shit." — He tried to form a concrete sentence, finding words, but not using them in an appropriate and understandable way. — "I will make you the first lady of Panem."

Coriolanus groaned, so loud and noisy, and without any kind of shame; feeling your greedy and delicious pussy squeeze his cock with pleasure, even in a somewhat compromising position. — His voice sounded so vulnerable, a little miserable, and feeling corrupted by the spasms you attributed to him. — For the satisfaction you gave with this, in the future, title.

A title so promising, prestigious and respectable that it would quickly become his alone; fitting your name, as if it were created just for you. — Perfect.

"My first lady." — Another thrust, this time, deep and sudden; you felt, insanely, the veins and pulsations of Coriolanus's cock, you felt him completely. — "Just mine." — Your lover's possessiveness exclaimed in your ears, releasing whimpers and moans so needy and tremulous from your lips.

The noise of clothes clashing with little noise between the movements of Coriolanus's hips against your didn't bother either of your, just a mediocre desire to feel your flesh struggle against each other, freely. — Oh, but this wish can still be fulfilled during the late night or early morning. — Your body was so pressed, dominated by the young peacekeeper; your needy little hole was crushing against his dick.

You were accepting of him so well, you always did. — Coriolanus did not hold back or hide his groans and grunts, and your name was hummed from his lips like a snowflake at his introduction; even he couldn't contain himself and it was, ridiculously, contradictory. — He felt sensitive, completely, enchanted by you, even though he didn't believe in such beliefs.

"Coryo…" — Your lips were half-open, so red and irresistible, it seemed like they had the intention and objective of driving that young man crazy, calling out his name. — "My love…" — Your head was dizzy, a pure mess.

Normally, Snow felt a deep, burning and bitter disgust at hearing those last words coming from other people's lips; hard to disbelieve that it was worth listening to or being called that way. — So much affection, passion and destruction at the same time. — But, hearing and witnessing your genuine and admirable voice calling him that? In such an erotic, promiscuous and libertine tone. — Coriolanus mentally desired more; like always.

A trembling sensation, almost a contraction in your stomach accompanied by a somewhat bearable and pleasurable tingling began to form; and your lungs found it difficult to breathe, turning you into a panting mess. — And your eyes, completely, heavy and almost closing.

Coriolanus recognized this. — First than you.

"Coryo, i…" — You paused, trying to breathe. — "…i'm so close." — It was stupid to warn him, or guide him, about this because that damned young man knew it; and he knew your body better than you did.

Coriolanus didn't utter a word, and preferred to remain still trapped and focused on you, feeling you. — The blue eyes contemplated your image, which remained majestic even in such an impure situation; wanting to engrave it in his mind forever. — Soon, he sank your lips in a wet and captivating kiss against his, swallowing your loud moans; this time, Coriolanus kissed gently, a little gentle with a touch of fervor.

The peacekeeper pressed your body even more against the wall, squeezing your thighs tighter, as if he was looking for firmer support; Coriolanus was also close to cumming. — The thrusts became more sloppy and dedicated to releasing your orgasm and you moaned uncontrollably against the man's lips. — No one cared anymore about the fact that someone appeared in the region. — Your body burned, and it wasn't just from the unmistakable and unbearable heat.

Your walls spasmed through your body and pulsed against Coriolanus' cock, and the feeling of relief formed in your stomach; the feeling of liberation. — Your eyes closed, tightly and forcefully, along with a small crushed scream that was released through your lips; you reached your peak, cumming on Coriolanus's cock. — Giving yourself completely to him; reveling in your pleasure and passion for Snow.

You would be the death of him, and at risk, Coriolanus would never admit it out loud, never could confess; but, he was sure that you were the point of his weakness, of his instability. — Coriolanus would risk arresting, preserving you so that nothing wrong could happen to you and, above all, to him. — And when he admires your pleasure dripping down his mediocre pants, that the only thing that came out of your mouth was his name, Coriolanus feels his blood heat, somewhat ironically.

He feels like he's in a place he's never been, never had the opportunity to be; if it was paradise, then you were his. — The only one that mattered. — Coriolanus' mind begins to weaken and weigh down, feeling increasingly tired; wanting to bury himself deeper into your pussy.

Feeling your fingers on the back of his neck, you lightly run your nails over the area covered in sweat and hot, bringing a shiver to the young man's body. — Your still dazed and confused eyes watched Coriolanus swallow hard, so tense and almost collapsing. — Soon, falling apart inside you.

Your walls were filled with Coriolanus' warm seeds, such a pleasant sensation, feeling so full and yet so safe in his arms. — Making you actually forget where you were. — And you choke when you feel another movement of Coriolanus's hips, he was pushing his cum into you even more.

The young peacekeeper still felt tense, basking in you, and not wanting to leave the position he was in; still, completely, grabbed and pressed against your body. — Feeling the spasms of your body that gave him.

"Your first lady?" — You whispered, a little breathless but regaining normality in your breathing, still so tired as you ran a hand over Coriolanus's red and bright face. — He grunted, sucking his teeth and swallowing once again.

"My first lady." — He confirmed, determined, with his deep and still rough voice, trying to compose himself and pretend a completely non-existent naturalness and that at some point, during dawn, he will have to return to his filthy and reckless work.

The music continued, but the voice was unfamiliar and a little out of tune and the instrumentals were much noisier and out of control. — Lucy Gray ended her performance, it seemed, and gave entrance to another voice; perhaps, it was someone from the Covey singing in her place for a short period of time. — Sometimes they did that. — It wasn't strange, however, the house was full and so welcoming and she was a special attraction; the only.

Something wasn't right, or it was just an intrusive thought wanting to run through your heavy head. — Where had that girl gone, then?

Until, at a certain and coincidental moment, footsteps were made and echoed through the corridor, causing an unconditional and alarming noise from the shoes; which, in fact, were heels, probably worn out and so well used. — Everything indicated that the person had left, leaving the place but with witnesses of her shoes. — And this caused an acceleration in your heartbeat.

Perhaps, that would have answered your question.