#now I know how to make a worm and have the fabric so I HAVE to make a worm

[tj-crochets]

I have no answers, only worm :D

WORM

with Dr Pepper for scale

[roanniom]

First Date

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, heavy petting, groping, slight hand job, dry humping

You both try to go slow, it's your first date after all. But it’s not as easy as it sounds when his hands are wandering and your lips are on his neck. Eddie has the top of your dress pulled down (he’d groaned dramatically when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra) and his body leans over yours, your thighs on either side of his hips and your back on the couch.

You knew you weren’t going all the way, but you’d told him he could take his jeans off. It was a selfish ask. It made it so that you could feel him better when you rubbed against him.

You suck lightly on his earlobe and Eddie gasps.

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah?” you ask breathily, more tease than you would have guessed yourself capable of. He chuckles but it is half pant.

"Yeah."

You kiss his earlobe again, grazing your teeth lightly over the shell.

"I need to fuck you," he mutters, though he pulls back and away from your mouth. Eddie looks down at you with hazy. "But we're not fucking tonight, so I need a second to get my shit together."

While he takes a breath, he sits back on his heels, your legs still around his hips. He rests his hands heavy on your thighs and looks down at you in your amused, debauched state. It's absolutely not helping him calm down. Neither is the fact that he can't stop his hands from sliding up and squeezing over your exposed breasts.

"Fuck," Eddie mutters as he watches the supple flesh give and spill around his large fingers. His audible frustration makes you let out a giggle, and you notice that his cock twitches in his boxers at the sound. The sight has you ready to end this break, so you push him so that he's sitting against the back of the couch, clambering up to straddle him.

"You're hot," you mumble before kissing your way from his jaw to his lips. Your hand slides down his chest to rest on his abdomen. He cants his hips upward and the tip of his clothed cock taps your hand, obviously encouraging you to grasp it through the fabric. So of course you do.

"Shit, no you're hot."

You bite your lip to keep from arguing with him. He's calling you hot and if you're honest with yourself, you've never felt hotter than you do right now with his hands all over you, so you decide to go with it. Eddie hangs his head so he can watch you jerk him slowly through his boxers. It's hot and hard in your palm and you're sure to rub your thumb over the mushroom head, pleased to feel a little bit of sticky precum bleed through the cloth.

This is absolutely not what you'd assumed would happen when you agreed to spontaneously go on this first date earlier today. You'd guessed you would, at best, enjoy some good conversation and company. You hadn't anticipated agreeing to go back to his place after just a few drinks, but holy fuck are you glad that's the direction the night took.

It's not long before Eddie's hand drops over the back of yours, stopping your motion over his member.

"Baby...you're killing me. We might need to stop," he grunts. Contrary to his words, his hand continues to guide yours up and down his cock, making you laugh. Eddie's eyes flash up to yours in amusement.

"What's so funny?" he asks. You shake your head but keep laughing, so Eddie takes the opportunity to push you onto your back again. His hand cups between your legs, fingers pressing over where your clit should be. You lift your hips to seek out more friction, though you know it's a useless pursuit with how snug and thick your stockings are.

"Right there?" Eddie asks, pressing more pointedly. Your roll your hips, impatient.

"Yeah...under layers," you joke. His hand worms into the tight control panel waistband of your stockings so he can play with the top of your panties.

"You know," he says casually, as if his hand isn't between your legs making you melt. "I could go down on you."

You blink up at him.

"Huh?"

"I could go down on you," Eddie repeats, leaning down over you to kiss your neck. "If you want."

When you don't reply, Eddie pulls back to gauge your reaction. It spurs you to speak up.

"Nobody's ever done that before," you say quietly. Eddie continues to swirl his finger over the top of your panties, but the movement is gentle.

"Really?" he asks, voice colored with disbelief. You shrug and try not to show that you're embarrassed by the inexperience you're projecting. Eddie's having none of it. "I'd go down on you, baby."

You surge up then at his words and pull him into another deep kiss. It's all tongue and teeth with your hands in his hair, tugging hard. Eddie's hand pulls out of the waistband of your stockings so he can grip and grab at you wildly in response.

You do it so that it can distract him from the offer he was making. Because there's nothing you wanted more than to let him rip your stockings off your body and put that talented tongue to use at your apex. But you had promised yourself that - even if you were going to hook up pretty intensely - you weren't going to have sex on this first date.

Eddie finally pulls back to let you breathe, which you do with a gasp, and he rests his sweaty forehead to yours.

"Probably better not. If I go down on you...I'm pretty sure we'll end up fucking."

He says it with a smug grin on his face. Pure confidence that makes you laugh and want to contradict him, but you absolutely know the man is correct.

"Yeah, I guess that's right."

Eddie sits back up to give you room to do the same. You both sit facing the long dark television to catch your breath. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Eddie has his hand on his still hard dick, stroking softly. He catches you looking and shoots you a grin.

"Sorry, I'm so fucking tuned on." He's saying sorry but his thighs are manspread performatively and it's very clear he likes you watching him. Just as much as he likes watching your breasts bounce as you laugh and lean forward to kiss the tattoo on his pec. You rest your head against his shoulder so you can watch him touch himself for another few minutes before you sigh.

"I think I have to leave before I end up doing what I really want to do."

Eddie groans and stills his hand, moving it up instead to cradle your jaw, turning you towards him for one more lingering kiss.

"Let me call you a cab," he says against your lips and you nod.

While you run to the bathroom to adjust your dress and make sure it doesn't look like you'd just dry humped Eddie Munson for an hour, the man in question puts his jeans back on. You walk out to find him adjust his still hard cock in the confines of the garment, wincing.

"Alright there, champ?" you ask him with a grin. The cab honks its arrival out front.

"I will be jerking off the minute you leave, just know," he says matter-of-factly as he leads you out the door. "I don't know if girls need to do that, but I'm pretty much gonna die if I can't cum after all that."

He says it good-naturedly and for once in all of your dating life, you don't feel pressured or shamed. Just extremely flattered to have this kind of effect on him.

At the bottom of his front step you turn and place a hand on the side of his neck and pull him down closer to you.

"I don't need to make myself cum. But I'm definitely going to," you whisper into his ear before running off to the cab, sparing him one cheeky look over your shoulder so you can bask in his dumbfounded expression.

~*~

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Hope you enjoyed! Please let me know if you did!

[wzkfuu]

SAVE A HORSE (ride a cowboy)

cowboy!leon x fem!reader

summary: THIS IS FREAKY .. u guys are just hornballs

notes: reader wears a dress and thats all ok bye

Everything that needed to be done has been done. Pretty quickly, actually.

The stables were clean, the animals well-fed, and there was still the rest of the day ahead with more work to do. Probably need to hop on the tractor to take care of the cornfields later in the afternoon. Ah, and there’s that broken, rickety fence for the goats that needs fixing too. But for now, Leon could rest.

Oh yeah, a damn well-deserved rest after this busy morning.

Hat on his face and hands behind his head, Leon was slowly relaxing, his butt perfectly nestled on a heap of hay. He could hear the horses neighing and cows lowing from afar, and he didn't give a damn. Nothing could disturb his peace.

The sun rays hitting his legs warmed him up, and the pile of straw lightly scratching the bits of skin that showed wasn’t that bad either. It was rather comfy. Another thing that was comfy was his lap, apparently, given how often she climbed up.

And right now was no exception. It was like she knew exactly when Leon took a break! Mind-reading powers or something like that. Or maybe she just knew his schedule by heart now.

"Hey, don't you see I'm tryin' to let loose?" Oh, the laughter in his voice was so audible he couldn't hide it from her . She jumped in his lap just like he predicted, all giddy and happy to bother him. "Ah, God. Stop that!" His retort was playful as he tried to prevent those annoying hands from messing with his hair or playing with his hat. Ugh, his alone time was over.

She squirmed like a damn worm on his thighs, making Leon sink even more into the haystack. "I swear, if your parents see us like this, I'm gonna get kicked out." And he couldn't be more right. If her mom and dad saw their farmer boy with their sweet child like this... oh dear, he preferred not to imagine the rest. Yet despite the very tiny risk, Leon's hands stayed on her hips.

Hell yes. That damn ass is gonna get him fired one day. No doubt.

“They won’t silly!” She smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she reached out and gently took his hat from his head. With a playful flick of her wrist, she positioned it atop her own head, adjusting it so that it sat just right. The hat, slightly too large for her, slipped down over her eyes for a moment, creating a comical look that made her giggle.

"Oh, shut up!" Leon groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. Of course she would say that. She always did. Always so sure of herself, always thinking she knew everything. He bet she had a plan to get him fired.

His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, gripping tightly. "You think I don't know what you're up to? Huh? Trying to get me in trouble with your parents?" Leon's voice was low and gravelly, tinged with amusement.

He yanked her closer, her body flush against his. The heat of her skin seeped through the thin fabric of her dress, igniting a fire in Leon's veins. "Well, it's not gonna work, sweetheart. I'm not that easy."

Leon's free hand slid up her spine, fingers splaying across the smooth expanse of her back. He leaned in close, his breath ghosting over the shell of her ear. "But maybe... just maybe... if you play your cards right, I might just let you have your way with me."

“Well, you know what they say,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eye, leaning in close enough for him to catch a whiff of her perfume that smelled like a mix of wildflowers and mischief. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.” The words tumbled out of her mouth with a playful lilt, as if suggesting a rather dirty activity rather than just a simple saying.

Her tone was light and teasing , she flashed him a sly smile, her eyebrows waggling in a way that made it clear she was inviting him to join her in a little bit of fun. It was as if she was daring him, quietly challenging him to step outside the ordinary and embrace a bit of spontaneity.

Leon’s eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Where did she even learn such a thing? "Jesus, you've been holding out on me, haven't you?"

He couldn't help but chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. Her boldness never failed to catch him off guard. He loved it. Loved the way she challenged him, pushed his buttons.

"Well, if you're offering..." Leon drawled, his hands sliding down to grip her ass. He squeezed the supple flesh, kneading it roughly. "I might just take you up on that."

Leon's hips rolled up, grinding his growing boner against her core. "But I gotta warn you, baby. Once you start riding this cowboy, you ain't gonna wanna stop."

His lips crashed against hers in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue. Leon's hands roamed her body, mapping every dip and curve. He wanted to touch her everywhere, taste her, feel her come undone beneath him.

But he had to be careful. They were still on the farm, after all. One wrong move and they'd both be in deep shit.

Reluctantly, Leon broke the kiss, panting heavily. "Fuck, we can't do this here," he rasped, voice strained with desire. "Your parents could walk out here any minute."

"I don’t care” she declares playfully, her voice dripping with a mix of mischief and boldness. It’s as if a little devil has taken residence in her mind, whispering encouragement to embrace the thrill of the moment. The implication is clear: getting caught in the act doesn’t faze her in the slightest.

In fact, it seems to add a dash of excitement to her otherwise ordinary day. Her flirty demeanor suggests that maybe , the rush of doing something they absolutely shouldn’t do makes the whole escapade even more exhilarating.

"You don't care?" Leon echoed, his voice a mix of disbelief and arousal. Her brazen attitude was both infuriating and incredibly sexy. "Well, I do. I like my job, and I don't want to lose it because you can't keep your hands to yourself."

Despite his words, Leon's hands continued to roam her body, sliding under her dress to caress the smooth skin of her thighs. "But fuck, you make it so hard to resist."

Leon captured her lips in another searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to tangle with hers. He sucked on her lower lip, nipping at it with his teeth. "You're playing with fire, baby ," he murmured against her mouth. "And trust me, I know how to burn."

“Yeah? well gonna keep talking or let me ride you silly cowboy?” She winks teasingly wrapping her arms around his neck and grinding her wetness arousal against his straining cock.

Leon groaned, his resolve crumbling under her relentless teasing. "Fuck, you're a handful, you know that?" he growled, his hands gripping her hips tightly. "Alright, you win. Let's see what you've got."

He ground his hips against hers, letting her feel the full extent of his arousal. "You sure you can handle this, baby?" he taunted, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "I don't want to break you on our first ride."

Leon's hands slid under her dress, pushing it up to expose her lacy panties. He hooked his fingers in the delicate fabric, tugging it aside to reveal her glistening folds. "Look at you, already so wet for me," he purred, circling her sensitive clit with his thumb. "You want this cowboy's cock, don't you?"

Without waiting for an answer, Leon unbuckled his belt, freeing his throbbing erection from the confines of his jeans. He rubbed the head of his cock against her entrance, coating himself in her slick arousal. "Last chance to back out, sweetheart," he warned, his voice low and husky. "Because once I'm inside you, I'm not stopping until we both come so hard, we forget our own names."

GOTCHA sorry i got sleepy LMK IF YALL WANT A PART TWO 👅👅👅👅👅🙏🙏

[reidingandwriting]

Nice To Meet Ya! > w.w. & l.h.

Word Count: ~1,900

Pairings: Wade Wilson x Reader, Logan Howlett x Reader, it’s (the beginning of) a throuple over here

Warnings: Fem!reader (she pronouns used like. twice in the very end), to be expected amounts of cursing and vulgarity from Wade, lots of cursing in general tbh, maybe a little OOC Logan, still getting to learn how to write his character well (Deadpool and Wolverine gave me brain worms so I had to write this immediately after watching)

A/N: This may become a little bit of a series! I’m having so much fun writing them since I Finally watched Deadpool and Wolverine so there will be a lot of solo & duo content with these two. This part is a little Wade focused but the next part is more Logan focused 🫶🏻

Next Chapter

You never in a million years imagined this would be your life. You were raised by busy parents, and you quickly became self sufficient. Independent. When you hit your teenage years, your parents… god knows where they went, to be honest. All you knew is you had a house to yourself, you didn’t have friends anymore, and as lonely as it was, you found a bit of comfort in the solitude. You worked as a bartender at this bar not too far from your house, and you were a crowd favorite. You always brought in the biggest tips and many of the patrons were protective over you.

Your longest regular was the merc with a mouth- Deadpool. Wade, as he introduced himself once, a faint whisper. The fabric of his mask rubbing against your cheek as he whispered the name in your ear. Wade Wilson.

He was... Loud, to say the least. You didn’t think he had an off switch. He insisted he did- but you’d have to go under his suit to find it, he teased you. He never stopped talking and there was no such thing as small talk with him; if you were talking to him, he was downright vulgar, and the quite frankly gross sense of humor was entertaining. He also flirted like it was his job. Much like the rest of his vocabulary, his flirting was pure filth that would make even the most seasoned sailor blush. And god forbid any creep start talking to you.

“Hey, princess, sorry I’m late. Too busy blowing my load to the thought of you, then remembered, wait! I can come see your fine ass in person whenever I want. Wanna finish me off?” You could practically feel the smirk Wade was sending you. You gestured for him to lean in, waiting until he was leaned against the bar, chest hovering above the countertop as you leaned in.

“In your dreams, dick for brains.” Your lips brushed against where his were covered by his mask, and you smirked when you heard the sharp intake of breath. The gasp almost impossible to hear, but it made your heart flutter all the same.

“You, sweet thang? Always. Holy fucking shit, that was so hot.” You and Wade had quickly become friends, his personality meshing well with yours. After ‘baby knife’ had somehow found itself in the hand of some perv that had been borderline stalking you at work for weeks, you found a new part of his personality. His protectiveness. He was as chipper as ever, but with the manic energy of someone who could, and would, kill someone who mildly inconvenienced someone he cared for. Unhinged, barely holding onto his minimal self restraint to splatter the guy’s blood all over the wall. Wouldn’t want you to have a mess to clean up, he admitted once it was just the two of you.

He offered to walk you home once after he’d known you for a few weeks, and now it was habit. You loved the times you had with just him. He was the same old Wade, but more open about himself. More vulnerable. These walks were where you got to know Wade, and he got to know you. You had let him crash one night, not that long ago, when it was storming hard. He had already insisted on walking you home, storm be damned, and you repaid him with a home cooked meal, some trashy movie, and a night of conversation on your couch until you dozed off, your head lolling to the side and landing on his shoulder.

Hours later, you had woken up, now lying down and the comfortable weight of Wade’s hand in your hair from where your head rested on his thighs. By the time the sun rose, you were alone in your living room, the only trace Wade had been there being a sloppy drawing of the Deadpool mask and a heart he scribbled on the whiteboard of your fridge. You smiled at the doodle and left it up, it still being up there today.

You stood at your spot behind the bar a few weeks later when someone new walked into the building, and you tilted your head. Newcomers weren’t entirely unheard of, but they were pretty rare, especially on a weekday. You took in the man as he stood near the doorway; brown hair, and oh fuck, good beard. The leather jacket he wore did little to hide how muscular he was and you watched as he scanned the room. Body tense, as if looking for potential threats. Potential ways out if danger occurred. Not like anyone would mess with him, aura alone enough to scare off anyone within a ten foot radius, let alone the hard look in his eyes.

Still, he walked over to the bar and took a seat. You offered a gentle smile, watching for another second before speaking. “You seem like a whiskey fan.”

His hazel gaze shifted up to meet your eyes, and you felt as if he was staring right into your god damned soul. It was intimidating, it was hot, and you couldn’t decide whether you should look away or lean in and-

“Yeah. Whiskey’s nice.” He nodded his head towards a bottle behind you. You nodded and went to pour a glass as he spoke again. “You always try to guess orders?”

“Only the interesting ones. Or the pretty ones.” You winked before turning, smiling when you heard the slightest huff of amusement. “Haven’t seen you here before. New in town?”

“Somethin’ like that.” You turned back around, setting the glass in front of him, propping up on your elbows as he drank. “Thanks.” He looked familiar but god, you couldn’t place where you had seen him before. You made light conversation, most of the talking done by you, but you found that you didn’t mind. He listened, intently. Everything he did seemed to be intense, like it was his default. You were grateful for the slow night, getting to see a glimpse of the man behind the bulletproof walls he had clearly built around himself.

“You thirsty slut! Of course I’d find you here.” You heard Wade’s voice before you saw him, and an annoyed scowl took over the unknown man’s face.

“Thirsty slut? Thought that was your autobiography title,” you said and Wade gasped in mock offense.

“You know I don’t read! Mocking the illiterate, how dare you?” Wade hopped onto the counter, hip almost knocking the glass of whiskey over.

“I don’t get how you’re late to a place you wanted to go to.” The brunette man said, voice low and rough, and Wade waved a hand dismissively.

“So uptight, can you believe it? Need to pull the stick out of your ass, maybe put it in-“

“La la la la la, not listening,” you sang, covering your ears, and Wade turned to you.

“You traitor! I leave you alone for five minutes and Wolvie has his claws in you.” Wolvie… Holy fuck, you were trying to flirt with the Wolverine. “And, Peanut, you know I’d never be late on purpose. Except I really needed to piss, then I got distracted by this really cute dog outside and I ended up totally abandoning my favorite dog.” Wade reached out to pat him, and you watched as a sliver of claws extended from his hands. A warning that didn’t seem to deter Wade much, but he did put his hand down. “Well, might as well introduce you.” Wade told you his name was Logan, and Wade told Logan your name in return.

You and Wade continued to talk, Logan yet again preferring to listen rather than join the conversation. Wade told the story of how he met Logan, how together the two of them essentially saved the world, and how the two of them were now roommates. Begrudgingly, according to Logan, but Wade seemed thrilled about his ‘roomie’.

It was hours later when the three of you left the bar. Wade insisted on walking you home, taking your hand in his and skipping down the street with you. Logan was a few paces behind you, his presence a comforting sense behind you. Where Wade was loud, in your face, Logan seemed to be the quiet lurker type. He’d hide in the shadows, making himself known when he felt threatened. You walked up to your front door, unlocking the door and Wade helped himself inside. You rolled your eyes and turned to Logan, who lingered on your doorstep.

“If you want to come in, you’re more than welcome. At least one of you has manners,” you called towards where Wade stood in your kitchen and cackled. Logan nodded, muttering a ‘Thank you’ as he walked inside, his shoulder brushing against yours gently. You shut the door behind you and Wade opened your fridge.

“Aww, pookie, you kept my drawing!” There was a hint of an unfamiliar emotion in his voice… something, something new. You couldn’t place it, yet you smiled anyways.

“Of course I did, Wade.” Now that you were in the safety of your house, Wade’s mask had been discarded on your kitchen counter and you could see the smile on his face. “Get out of my fridge, you leech.“

“I’m starving,” Wade whined and you turned to look at Logan. He stood a little awkwardly, and you gestured to the couch, taking a seat and smiling when he followed suit. He sat on the cushion furthest from you, but you didn’t question it.

Logan couldn’t help but study you. There was an obvious familiarity between you and Wade, you matching his wit and comebacks, but you were different when you spoke to him. You were quieter, more reigned in. Strangely not out of fear, but as if you were trying to make him comfortable. You switched between Wade and Logan like it was second nature, and the more he talked to you and the more he watched you and Wade, he felt himself begin to relax just a little.

He didn’t realize how much time had passed until Wade, ever the charmer, let out a dramatic yawn, throwing his hands up in the air as he stretched. “Well, cupcake. I think it’s about time we head home. Old man is already up way past his bedtime.” Wade yelped as he jumped back, barely missing the claws that protruded from Logan’s hand, and he stuck his tongue out at him. “Grumpy grandpa.”

You stood and Logan followed suit. Wade kissed your cheek before saying goodbye and stepping outside, leaving you and Logan alone.

“I hope I’ll see you again, Logan.” Your voice was gentle, your smile even more so, and Logan nodded.

“I’ll be around. Don’t think I have much of a choice with that one.” There was a sliver of fondness mixed with the exasperation in his voice, and Logan started to walk outside. “Goodnight, bub.” Logan closed the door behind him, lingering until he heard your locks click shut. He caught up with Wade a moment later and Wade gave him the biggest shit eating grin ever.

“Is someone melting the big bad wolf’s heart?” The metallic clang followed by Wade’s pained grunt made Logan laugh, and Wade shoved his shoulder.

“Wait until she sees what an asshole you are. Then she’ll realize I’m the better half of this friendship.” The two men continued to bicker the entire way home, both of them thinking about when they’d get to see you next.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

mixed-matched socks | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

“look out! laundry downpour, ahhh!” you indoor screamed as you slowly dumped the freshly dried clothing over a lying annabeth. her high pitched screeching bursted your eardrums, but were quickly muffled by a shirt and jacket. her little fingers and toes wiggling like worms in her clothing dirt.

“how’s it feel?” spencer asked as he plucked her baby face free of cotton. her smile, that spencer insisted was yours, pushes her cheeks into her eyes causing them to disappear. “like a group cuddle,” she practically sighed in content.

grabbing a random top, one of annabeth’s cartoon kittens tees, you got to work separating the fabrics. “miss bethie, could you look for anyone of your clothes and place them here. this is your pile responsibility.”

“okie dokie,” and she crawled through spencer’s button ups and some of your summer dresses, holding each new piece of clothing in the air, declaring victory before dropping it to her pile. you and spencer worked through and over her to make your own piles, spencer would iron his clothes and you would steam yours.

“all…done!” she gave a bounce to the bed causing her to wobble and both of you quickly shooting your arms out to prevent any accidents. “careful baby,” spencer gently chided. “let’s cross cross apple sauce,” lightly tapping her calf. she plopped her little body down, her pile tipping to the side.

“let’s do some folding. do you know how we fold?” spencer asked annabeth while you started to work on steaming your clothes. “i only see, not do.” her palms patted her knees.

“that’s okay, its real easy.” spencer grabbed one of his sleep shirts for a demonstration. “just hold it up like this, then push the sides in like this then fold. all done.”

you looked over to see annabeth holding a pastel blue top up, her fingers pinching the shoulders as she stared it down. spencer’s larger hands atop hers to guide her through the simple formation, he helped with a few more then she did one all on her own.

“easy peasy, lemon squeezy.” she hummed to herself.

“wanna fold daddy’s socks? he likes when you mix-match them.” wanting her to do another task to keep her occupied and get the chores done quickly.

she looked to spencer, matching brown eyes gleaming into each other, “can i?” asking excitedly. spencer kissed the top of her head, “of course, sweetie. makes my work day brighter.”

annabeth is used to doing the socks, the action simple for her tiny chubby hands. it was her first task once she started to join both of you on this glorious adult chore, always a soft hum under her breath.

it made you look back from before she was around, you doing this alone in your family home with music blaring in headphones, to then sharing a space with spencer and being a bit cautious of crossing a certain line with your knowledge of his germophobia. then one day a shirt got mixed with his wash then a loose sock with yours, then you both were just sitting in the living room watching reruns of doctor who with spencer mindlessly spewed out facts. when you got pregnant spencer would do the lifting of the baskets and you would lay back in your bed going at a slow pace with spencer beside you as he took folded pieces and put them away so you didn’t have to get up a million times.

now it’s the three of you working together with a three month bump barely showing under your lifted tee. something so simple and mundane when you were a teenager that was a tiring chore now shifted into family bonding time, seeing your husband and daughter talk quietly as she held up a pair of dark blue and neon orange socks giggling as she balled them together.

laundry day has become one of your favorite chore days.

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a/n: inspired by @beansarecooler for an idea they left on a post.

[luvfy0dor]

“His Hands are in my Hair, His Clothes are in my Room ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol

Warnings; Nikolais and Chuuyas are hardly proofread, Nikolais was rushed, Nikolais nearly got scrapped, I don't like Nikolais, maybe a little ooc

Description; sharing clothing w the BSD boys

A/n; GUYS OH MY GOD I GOT A 5 ON MY FIRST AP EXAM IM SO PROUD OF MYSELF AHHHHHH IM GONNA CRY also I'm sorry posts are so few and far between. It's so hot and hard to function. I know I said the exact same thing to excuse minimal posts in winter but like. its literally hot as balls and all I got is a puny ass 8yro fan and the occasional sip of iced water.

Osamu Dazai ★

• Dazai likes to take your old T-shirts to sleep in when you lend them to him for the night. After a few nights of having Dazai at your house, you wonder why your sleep-shirt collection has nearly cut in half.

ೃ⁀➷

You unlocked the door of your apartment and pushed it open with your unoccupied hand. The other arm held a large brown paper bag filled with gas station food and snacks for you and your boyfriend, who followed you inside. Once you set the bag down on the coffee table, you retrieved your keys from the door and closed it. When you came back to the kitchen, Dazai had already dumped everything out and was sifting through all the options. "The walk back from the gas station was hardly five minutes and I've already forgotten everything we got." He says with a grin, opening a bag of chips and eating a couple. He offered you some, holding the bag out to you. "Want some?' He mumbled.

"Yeah, let me just change into pajamas first, I don't wanna do anything until I'm comfortable." You said, shrugging off your jacket and starting to undo your belt before you even make it back to your room. Dazai followed suit, bag of chips still in hand. "Can I borrow some?" You nodded before taking off your shirt and tossing it in the laundry hamper, going through your closet to find a shirt for your boyfriend and yourself. "Thank youuu~" He plops down onto your bed, keeping the chip bag upwards so he doesn't get any crumbs or dust on your nice blankets. He watches you pull one of your band shirts over your head, admiring your body from his position on your mattress. He's snapped out of his daze when black fabric comes flying at him, but he catches it before it can smack him in the face. "Thanks, babe, you're so kind."

He switches his work clothes for your old ones, the big shirt nearly swallowing his scrawny torso comfortably. "Alright, I want snacks, come on." You gesture for him to follow you back out to the kitchen where the array of snacks was waiting for the two of you on the counter. There were numerous kinds of chocolate, and Dazai had grabbed a couple bags of gummies for himself. There were a few more bags of chips for variety, and you scooped everything up in your arms to bring to the living room. You dropped them all on the coffee table and grabbed the remote. "Alright, what movie are we feeling?" You ask, turning to the brunette man. "Uhhhhh, how about an action movie. Somethin' that looks exciting." He says, slinging his arm over your shoulder while he munches on sour gummy worms. Eventually, the two of you decide on a Godzilla movie, slumped against the couch with chocolate residue on the tips of your fingers from your candies. Dazai let out a long sigh as the movie came to a close, leaning into you and resting his head on your shoulder.

You ran your fingers through Dazais messy and slightly greasy hair, scratching his scalp and listening to his pleased, quiet hum. "Are you falling asleep or are you up for another movie?" You ask him, watching the credits roll on the TV. "I'm up for another movie, I just think I might be having a sugar crash." He says, groaning as he sits back up. You nod and grab the remote again, browsing through all the film options. Every now and again, your eyes involuntarily flickered over to your boyfriend, and you couldnt help but smile. He looked really cute in your shirt, and it almost made you wanna treat the movie like chopped liver and cuddle up to him.

"You look really cute." You say, playing whatever movie you absent-mindedly started in your daze. "Oh, I know, right?" He grins running his hand over his body. "As a matter of fact, I've never felt sexier." He teases, moving his eyebrows up and down with a smirk. You can't help but laugh at him. "Let's get you on a playboy cover." Before you know it, he's standing up in front of the TV. "Scrap the movie, you have me for entertainment instead." He puts his hands on his hips and strikes a pose, making you laugh some more. "You want some attention? I mean, I guess since you asked so politely." You stand up with an eye roll and pull him in, kissing him and running a hand down his side. He keeps one hand on your chin, tilting your head to meet his lips, sighing quietly each time your lips part for a quick moment. Soon, you both need more air then small gasps and have to pull away. He smiles and messes with the fabric of your own shirt. "How about we ditch this mess for now and go to bed, yeah? We can continue comfortably there?" He offers, You glance back over at the piles of snacks, opened or not, scattered acrossed the floor. Normally you'd make him help you clean up before doing anything else, but tonight you really couldn't be bothered and just wanted to follow Dazai wherever he'd take you. "Alright, let's go."

Chuuya Nakahara ★

• Everyone knows that Chuuya adores his hat, but not everyone knows he's got a decently sized collection of fancy hats on top of his closet. One day while rummaging around and trying to find one of Chuuyas button downs for him, you notice them all on the top rack.

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"Chuuya, you didn't tell me you had so many hats!" You called out to him, standing back and staring at them all. Chuuya was currently in the bathroom, shaving his peach fuzz to keep his smooth face. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I've got a ton." He calls back, washing the shaving cream off of his skin. "They're pretty..can I try some of 'em on?" You ask, reaching to grab the one on the top of the stack. "Go ahead." He walks out of the bathroom with his towel around his waist, leaning against the doorframe to watch the little fashion show you were about to put on. The first one you grabbed was adorned with flowers of various colors. You placed it on your head and turned around, posing with your hands on your hips.

"What do you think? Vogue worthy?" You ask him. He smiles at you and nods, his arms crossed over his chest. "One hundred percent, that's peak fashion." He says genuinely, standing up straight and walking over to the closet. He reaches up and grabs another hat for you to try, switching it out for the flowers one. This one is a dark, reddish brown color. "This one's cute too." You giggle and head over to the bathroom to see for yourself. "Ooo, I'm not sure this kinda hat is necessarily for me." You giggle. "What do you mean? It looks great on you!" He says, following you in and hugging you from behind. "You only say that because they're your hats." You say, grinning.

"I mean, I guess not everyone is destined to look good in them like me." He says, squeezing your hip. "I gotta actually get ready for work now, I'm probably runnin' late." He says, turning around and dropping his towel. He tossed it into the hamper before getting dressed in his usual attire, spotting the button down that you had forgotten about in favor of his hat collection. "Okayyyy." You yawn, stretching your arms over your head and treading through the bedroom to start your own morning routine. You didn't have to leave for another hour, but Chuuya had to get to work within the next 30 minutes. After brushing your teeth, you notice Chuuya searching the bedroom for his usual hat.

"The nightstand." You point out to him. He sees it and lets out a sigh of relief, grabbing it and plopping it on his head. "Thanks, doll. I gotta get going' now, but I'll see ya tonight, okay?" He says, pulling you in by your waist for his daily goodbye kiss. "Yeah, got it." You smile before kissing him sweetly for a quick moment before he backs away. "Alright, I love you, see ya later." He playfully smacks your ass before letting go of you and heading out to the door. "Bye Chuuya, I love you, I'll see you later!" Once you heard him leave, you smiled to yourself and headed right back to the closet. You didn't necessarily have to get dressed just yet, so that gave you some time to try on a couple more hats on your own.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

• Fyodor doesn't mind letting you borrow his cape if you seem cold, or he'll simply wrap it around you and pull you into his side. He prefers the latter, considering it doesn't take much for him to get chilly.

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Fyodor held your gloved hand in his as you both walked down the snowy streets of Yokohama. It was the winter solstice and you both decided to take a walk down one of the most popular roads and do some window shopping. By the end of the evening, the hand that wasn't occupied with holding Fyodors held a warm cup of hot chocolate that you sipped on periodically. "Have you enjoyed yourself tonight, Myshka?" He asks you, adjusting his ushanka and gazing up at the sky, noticing some snow start to fall. "I did. Thanks for coming with me, I know you have a lot of stuff to do." You respond, bringing the cup to your lips for another sip. He waves his hand dismissively. "That doesn't mean I can't accompany you." His thumb rubs over your knuckles as snow starts landing on his hat and your head, the street lamps illuminating the darkness with a tangerine-colored glow. You nod at his words, leaning into his shoulder and shivering.

"It's so cold, Fedya." You say, your head on his shoulder and your hand squeezing his tightly. He lets go in order to put his arm around your waist, pulling his long cape over your shoulder. "I know, the walk home isn't much further, don't worry." You smile and hold onto the old, worn material to keep it in place. "You're right, thanks." You say, feeling butterflies in your stomach. It never mattered how long you and Fyodor had been together, every affectionate action made you feel like you had just got together. He held you close with his cape still shielding you from the cold and adding a layer of warmth to your jacket. He would peer over at you every now and again, laughing under his breath at all the snow that was getting into your hair. "What's so funny?" You ask him, a smile spread acrossed your face. "You've got a whole bunch of snow on your head." He tells you. "It looks like dandruff."

You roll your eyes and yank the ushanka off of his head, placing it on yours instead. "There, now you won't have to look at it." You hold the fluffy hat on top of your head and try to prevent him from taking it back when he tugs on it. "No, you can get your own, my ears are cold." He says with a smile, eventually pulling it back into his own possession and patting it off. "I will say though, you look better in my hat than Dazai did." You give a proud smirk and rest your head on his shoulder. "I'd hope you'd think so." Your street comes into view and you pull him along as you speed up, wanting to get into the warm, cozy house as soon as possible. "I know running isn't exactly your thing but pick up the pace a little, I wanna get under the covers and cuddle." You tell him, getting closer to home with each passing second.

He picks up speed for you and listens to the sound of your feet hitting the pavement. It's not long before you've pulled him all the way home and you're unlocking the door, nearly spilling inside to get into the warm living room. Fyodor follows suit, unlacing his shoes and hanging up his cape and ushanka. You wait for him in the open doorway that connects the living room and the hallway, ready to curl up in bed away from the harsh cold. "Alright, I'm coming." He says, treading through the hall with you and opening the bedroom door. His hand rested on your lower back as you both walked to the comfortable mattress, crawling under the covers and pulling each other close. "Your cape is really warm and comfortable. You should wrap me in it more often." You say, scooching closer to him and letting his arm drape over your waist.

"Hmm, I guess that wouldn't hurt. You really like it?" He peers down at you, his head propped up on his fist. "Yeah, I might have to steal it, actually." You say seriously, making him click his tongue. "You're welcome to steal it if I'm not wearing it." He says, chewing on the inside of his cheek habitually. "Then expect it to be off the hanger more often then not." He smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead, laying his head down on the pillow. "Okay, that's fine, but right now you have me and the blanket to keep you warm." He murmurs, closing his eyes. "Well you're not contributing to that as much as the blanket, but whatever you say." You kiss his cheek and brush his bangs out of his face. "G'night Fedya, I love you." You say, resting your head on his chest, ready for sleep. "I love you too, y/n, sleep well."

Nikolai Gogol ★

• You always loved Nikolais outfit and couldn't help but wanna put it in one day. You were sure he wouldn't mind, after all, sharing attire was nothing foreign to your relationship.

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It started with you trying on his blouse for fun, but then you decided the blouse wasn't complete without the vest, pants, gloves, collar, shoes, or hat. Everything fit you a little differently than it fit Nikolai, but it didn't matter, because when you walked over to the nearest reflective surface, you found yourself cute, and you almost couldn't wait for Nikolai to get out of the shower to show him. You just needed one more thing, his cape. You ran out to the coat rack by the door and swung it behind you and then over your shoulders excitedly, grabbing it by the edges and moving it around. You felt really fancy with his cape, swaying your body just to feel the fabric move with you. As a matter of fact, you were so caught up in how good the cape made you feel that you didn't even realize the bathroom door open.

"Oh, wow, dove! My outfit looks so good on you! I've never noticed how much the red gloves pop until now." You turned around so fast, as if you were sitting in silence and all of a sudden a full file cabinet tipped over and crashed onto a linoleum floor. "Wah-! When'd you get out? I mean, thank you, but you scared me!" You say with a nervous laugh. "I thought it looked cute." You murmur, starting to pull off the gloves, but he stops you. "Hey, wait, you should stay in it for a moment, I'm not done admiring you yet!" He tells you, walking over and grabbing your hands gently. He leans in to kiss you, his smile palpable on his lips. You hand falls on his shoulder, rubbing it up and down affectionately before pulling away. "You really like it that much, huh?"

He nods. "Ofcourse! Oh, I'd love to show everyone how wonderful you look. Would you let me?" He asks, squeezing your hands tightly. "Sure, Kolya, go ahead." He quickly skitters off to fetch his cellphone, returning with the camera app already open. "Pose." He says, watching you place your hands on your waist and cock your hip a little bit. "Ah, gorgeous." He says, spamming the capture button. "Okay, I think that's enough." He says, his cheeks a bit pinker than before. He tossed his phone onto one of the side tables and embraced you once again, resting his head on top of yours. "Come on, y/n, I'd like to see you in my whole wardrobe now!" He says excitedly, pulling you along back to the bedroom. You don't necessarily know what you ignited in him, but it was certainly something, and now you were preparing yourself for a god-knows-how-long fashion show for your boyfriend. Not that you really minded, ofcourse.

A/n; another post that was supposed to have sigma and then didn't have sigma because I wanted to watch Jersey shore instead of write. ALSO I WENT TO THE DENTIST YESTERDAY terrible experience I cried but don't tell anyone I said that

[lh44girl]

: A Winter Night with Lewis

The winter wrapped your little chalet in a blanket of snow, the soft glow of moonlight pouring through the curtains. You were snuggled into bed, wrapped in your favorite cozy flannel pajamas and clutching your plushy bunny like a child guarding their treasure. Beside you, Lewis sprawled under the thick duvet, as bare as the day he was born, grinning at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Y’know,” he began, his deep voice low and teasing, “sleeping in all that… stuff… isn’t exactly how people stayed warm back in the day.”

You rolled your eyes, burrowing deeper into the covers. “Back in the day, people didn’t have central heating or plushy bunnies. Your argument is invalid.”

He chuckled, scooting closer, the warmth of his body seeping into your layers of fabric. “I’m just saying, you’d be much warmer like me. No barriers between us and all that.” You always felt a little shy knowing well his naked under the covers playing footies with you.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you teased, hugging your bunny tighter. “But I’m fine, thanks. You do your thing; I’ll do mine.”He has a way of creeping into you tickling you.

But Lewis wasn’t one to give up. As the night wore on, you felt his fingers playfully tug at the hem of your pajama top. “Just this,” he whispered. “You don’t need it. I promise you’ll be warmer.”

You sighed, half-annoyed but mostly amused, and let him lift it off. Before long, the pants followed, his hands gentle yet determined. “See? Isn’t that better?” Your bare bodies stuck to each other soft and warming up. He was soft as velvet.

You couldn’t deny it. The press of his skin against yours, the way he wrapped his arms around you like a human furnace—it was better. But you weren’t about to admit defeat so easily.

“Fine,” you muttered, pretending to glare at him. “But Bunny stays.”

Lewis arched a brow, his fingers inching toward the plushy. “Do they, though?”

“Lewis Carl Davidson Hamilton, don’t you dare.”

He laughed, pulling you—and the bunny—closer. “Alright, alright. Bunny can stay. For now.”

And as he buried his face in your neck, you couldn’t help but smile, the cozy warmth of love and winter wrapping you both in its embrace.

Over time, the habit of sleeping in the nude became your special thing, but only with Lewis. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it alone, and certainly not when his family visited. But on those nights when it was just the two of you, his bare warmth against yours felt like home.

Lewis was cheekily thrilled with this arrangement. “See? Told you it’s better my way,” he’d whisper with a smirk, pulling you closer.

Sometimes, during the harsh winter night, even with the all this, Lewis suggests a different way to worm you up, he leveled up his game. “Lewis what are you doing?!!”you felt his hard cock near your soft pussy lips. He just grinned”trust me,you’ll warm up” he cocked warm you from the inside out, making moan and melt into him. These night, you both loved it the most,feeling as one& you slept the best sleep ever. A very therapeutic way to just distress and zone out of reality.

As the months passed, your beloved plushy bunny started making fewer appearances in bed,only present when both of you being tired & sleepy . It wasn’t intentional; it just naturally happened. Bunny was only left out of bed when things between you two were particularly lustrous euphoria & romantically playful & flirty . On those nights, you’d mischievously grab Bunny, cover its little eyes, and tuck it under the bed or a pillow as if shielding it from the scene about to unfold.

Lewis always found this utterly hilarious. “Babe, seriously? Poor Bunny. What’s he done to deserve exile?” he’d tease, chuckling as he leaned over to steal a kiss.

“It’s not exile,” you’d argue, feigning seriousness. “It’s protection. Bunny’s innocent.”

“Mm-hmm,” he’d murmur, pulling you against him. “I’m starting to think Bunny’s just jealous of me.”

You’d laugh, smacking his chest lightly. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself. Bunny and I go way back.”

“Well,” Lewis teased, grinning as his lips brushed your ear, “I think I’m doing a pretty good job replacing him.”

You couldn’t deny it. Bunny might always have a place in your heart, but in Lewis’s arms, you found a new kind of warmth, safety —one that was deeper, richer, and undeniably yours.

[biteyoubiteme]

a good seat

yeonjun x fem!reader

warnings: 🔞!!! thigh riding, brat!reader, eye contact lol, yeonjun calls reader a slut once prob forgot some sorry wc: 1k ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ an: this is for the light of my life @apeachty who wants to be mean a blessing and talk to me about yeonjuns thighs, you put this worm into my head and it wouldnt leave me alone so now here is the fruit of your labor, you didn't ask for it and it’s not the best but eh I hope you enjoy it lol also this is not proofread forgive me sweet angels

[m.list]

You never meant to be a brat, or at least not to the point that it had gotten to recently. And it was never what he did that made you behave in a different way, but always just when you fell into a mood without realizing it. Mostly after a night out with friends, where you sit on the edge of the bed watching him undress. He had taken your shoes off for you at the door, bending down on one knee, gently holding your calf, using any excuse he could to touch you. 

He had been so sweet all night, and now you set out to toy with him just because you could. “Aren't you going to get undressed? Get cozy," Yeonjun nodded, jutting his chin in your direction to let you know he could see you waiting for him.  

“No,” it had been so easy to say when he was half-hidden behind the doorway to the bathroom. Because one look from him and you would be putty, melting around his commands with only apologies and whimpers as a reply. And currently, you felt like playing no matter how both of you knew who always had the better hand. 

“No?” he stepped into view, jeans unbuttoned, unzipped, leaving his pants hanging loose on his hips. His tank top clinging to the panes of his stomach just right, all the exposed skin of his arms crumbling your brain into a cluster of half-formed sentences. The most you could get out was enough to repeat yourself, your “No,” sounding less confident looking him down now. 

It was all he needed you to say before he walked to his side of the bed, pushing down his jeans letting them pool right by the nightstand, the fabric of his underwear clinging to him just enough to leave nothing hidden. Yeonjun sat right on the edge, spreading his legs just enough to have you fit between them, exactly where he wanted you as he tapped his thigh as a call for you to come over. 

It's exactly what you wanted, attention, so it was easy to find yourself in front of him, arms crossed, eyes falling to his lap over and over, enough so that he had to tip your chin with his knuckle to get you to look at his face. “No, my eyes are here, this,” he taps his leg again, “is your seat,” 

It was all he said before he had you straddling his thigh, your hands digging into his shoulders, trying and failing to bite back your moans when he held your hips, dragging you back and forth. He didn't care how bratty you thought you were being, he knew exactly how to work you to the edge of an orgasm and exactly how to make you fall back in line. He didn't even have to do much convincing, just tug your panties down and say a few little words. 

But it wasn't like yeonjun wasn't affected, your knee pressed to the hardening bulge between his legs. The second he felt exactly how wet you were against him, he had moaned, deep in the back of his throat on instinct, never fully able to silence himself when it came to you. And your head had fallen forward, dipping down to hide the way you bit your lip, keeping any noise from slipping out. “No look at me, let me see my little slut begging me for more than just my thigh,” 

Yeonjun was playing with fire, your clit grinding down on his thigh like a match striking the box, igniting and catching, close enough to burn. He had asked for you to look at him but the second your eyes were on him he was ready to break, twist so that he could push right into you, keeping you pressed to the mattress until the sun came back around. But it wasn't until you started to beg, just like he asked, that he felt the struggle set in. “Please,” your nails dug into the fabric of his tank top, hips rocking and rocking as he flexed his thigh to aid the pressure you needed. 

This was only another form of you practicing being a brat, you knew how to rile him up, knew that if you leaned into his demands he'd snap and wouldn’t help himself from getting his fill. “Please jjunie, please,” you whined, his fingers digging into your hips, needing something to ground him as he clenched his jaw. He wouldn't give in, he told himself he wouldn't, and yet your sweet mewls only made him harder. “I’ll be good,” you promised, a gasp catching right in your throat when he helped you find the right rhythm, orgasm building in the pit of my stomach. Your need was palpable, your brows scrunching as you tried to keep your head up to look at him, show him just how needy you were, “please,” it was nearly a cry, your hands slipping down his chest, balling the fabric in your fists as you held him. Cunt so wet against his thigh that it was easy to keep you moving even when you started to tremble. 

“If you cum I'll give it to you,” but even if you couldn't finish he would flip the two of you over, he would be desperate enough to just drag you the few inches he needed so that he could sink into you sitting up just like this. “I want my pretty girl to get off right here against my thigh first,” 

“But-” You couldn't finish your thought, one hand falling to his clothed bulge, palming him over the fabric before you felt your orgasm crash into you. You were a shaking mess, whining so pretty for him that he wasted no time in dragging you closer to him, needing to be in you before your mind cleared. Needing to feel exactly how he made you feel with nothing but his thigh. 

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @no1likemybbgcharlie @chasingthatjjunie @taegyutomorrow @izzyy-stuff want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join!want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[runninriot]

Wiggly 🧠🪱 Wednesday

thank you @just-my-latest-hyperfixation for the tag! 🖤

today's brain worms are brought to you by one of the steddie smutty september prompts 😏

i'm thinking about Eddie who lost a bet to his boyfriend and is now getting ready to pay up. Or at least he's trying to. Because he's still not sure he can really pull it off.

He keeps turning from left to right, sceptically looking at his reflection in the mirror.

God, he looks ridiculous, doesn't he. This stuff isn't made for him. It's for people with less boney asses. People with more meat on them and with defined muscles they can show off. Pretty people, whose perfect bodies would shine covered in black lace.

Eddie just looks... wrong. Like he's trying to be something he's not.

The dainty floral pattern is a harsh contrast to the crooked lines adorning his skin - too soft, too delicate, enhancing all his little flaws and blemishes rather than fulfilling the purpose of making him feel good. That's why people usually choose to wear these things, right? To feel hot and pretty and confident.

Well. He definitely doesn't.

At least Steve will get a good laugh out if it. That's probably why he thought of the punishment in the first place. Not necessarily to make fun of Eddie, he's not that mean. But- whatever.

A bet is a bet, and he lost, so he'll suck it up and get it over with.

He's got a one-man-crowd waiting for him in the bedroom and the sooner he gets what he wants, the sooner Eddie can get out of this fucking lingerie.

Meanwhile, Steve's buzzing with anticipation. He's been sitting on the bed for what feels like hours, waiting for Eddie to finally come out of the bathroom.

He's been dreaming about this forever, literally. It's a secret fantasy he's had ever since Eddie and him started dating, since they started exploring each other's bodies in the most intimate ways.

To see Eddie's perfect body covered in lacy lingerie, to let his fingers dance over the soft fabric, gently caressing what's underneath, mouthing at his cock through his panties just to tease, just rile him up - God, what a vision. What a thought. And soon, so soon, it'll become reality.

Steve's hard just from imagining it. Can barely keep his hands to himself at the dirty thoughts looping in his mind.

He needs to see it. Needs Eddie to come out right now or he'll combust.

And then, finally, Eddie does. Slowly opens the bedroom door before he hesitantly steps in. And he's even more beautiful than Steve could ever have imagined.

Standing there, all shy and pretty, with his cheeks tinted pink and his arms crossed before his chest, looking so... so perfect.

   "Fuck," is all Steve can get out. Too stunned, too lost in the vision his boyfriend is.

    "It's okay, Steve. You can laugh. I know I look stupid."

Suddenly, Steve notices that what he thought was Eddie just being a bit shy is actually him being uncomfortable. That the way he tries to hide his body behind his own arms is not him acting coy, it's him being ashamed.

    Oh, hell no.

That just won't do. That's not at all what Steve had intended.

Luckily, he knows just how to turn this around.

(i'll stop right here before it gets even more out of hand 😅 to be continued)

no pressure, all love @novemberthorne @morningberriesao3 @pennyplainknits @steddieas-shegoes @matchingbatbites

@ataliagold @wynnyfryd @queenie-ofthe-void @stevesbipanic @steddiecameraroll

[kit-williams]

This is Mythical coming at you live from your ask box! You know the horny brain worms have been absolutely squirming so imma request some down bad Roboute Guilliman and his unexpected yet untamed need to breed!

I’m talking full on primal, face down ass up even prone boned breeding. I want the most unhinged breeding session where Guilliman’s beloved will feel it WEEKS afterwards. And of course you just know we gotta have the dirty talk, we need to know who well Guilliman gives it. It’s so good you can’t form even a thought afterwards. Hell he might not even let you get too far from him, he’s gonna stay right where he is and keeping you right where you need to be just to make sure it takes <3

(I’m sending this just so I don’t forget, I also apologize if the brain worms got too feral!)

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog @remembrancer-of-heresy @felinisnoctis @solspina

@the-californicationist

(Cali this is about one of the Primarchs aka the really big guys)

tw: SMUT; its ovulation time for the homies so its horny

edit: Thank you to @squishyowl for the divider

Uh uh uh is all that could leave your mouth at this point. Your knuckles white as you fisted the bedding tightly to keep you in place. Your face against the bedding as you still couldnt decide if the way your nipples were slightly rubbing against the sheets and other fabrics was enjoyable or not. You could feel his hand in your hair just pulling your head back slightly as you could think as he was now lazily sinking in and out of your cunt.

Guilliman doesn't know what happened... just he saw you with one of the other high ranking women of Ultramar and really there was nothing special about it... you simply were holding a baby. He was certain he was sterile, what use would breeding be for a tool, but then again why give them the parts? Why give them the inklings of desire? Perhaps at some point he would have asked the Emperor but now he doesn't care. But the thought of her holding that baby wouldn't leave his thoughts... it kept drifting in and out... in the background... just a background thought that he would associate akin to one thinking about what was for dinner that night.

But... he wanted her to be holding his baby on her hip. A bright eyed babe with curly hair... he wanted it to be their baby she was bouncing in her lap and cooing at. "You're so tight around me love." He says with a purr in his voice, "And to think you've just been screaming your head off with how I've been handing you." He thrusts in hard eliciting a whimper from you. Watching you arch your back more trying but with him holding your hair keeping you from hiding that blush on your face and breasts. Guilliman leans in whispering, "I am certain the entire Fortress knows I'm fucking you with how you've been screaming with pleasure."

His eyes follow the drool on your bottom lip and moving down your chin. As you just pant and he can't help but grin watching you react as his cock lazily throbs inside of you. Sex did not mean much to Guilliman as he was already fully grown by the time he was old enough to partake in it which scared off many who would try. But he looks at you trembling... swallowing down air... as he could see the way his cock stretched you to almost your limit and he knew how his cum would ooze out of you when he pulled out for the night.

Something about you ovulating made his brain ITCH in a good way. It made him want to be like this... buried to the hilt and fucking you till you were incoherent. If he was feeling selfish enough he would just like tonight. "I'm going to put a baby in you." He says watching you shudder with some form of pleasure. "I'm going to make you so fat with my babies. Oh yes I want to give you multiple." He says lazily lowering his voice to those octaves he knows you like... flexing his vocal cords and swelling his third lung to add that extra oomph and reverberations to his next words, "Watch your breasts leak with milk... watch you rub your swollen belly... truly make you a mother to my Ultramarines."

He listens to you gasp and feels you once more orgasm around the slowly moving cock inside of you. He lets your head drop back down to be face first on the bed. His hips move quickly as he pants himself, "Oh I'm going to make sure it takes! They already know what I do with you! So why not have something to show for all the effort we've put in? Wouldn't you agree my Lady?" All you can do in reply is incoherently moan pushing your hips back like a slut desperate for release. Maybe it was his aura... his presence... just the way he spoke to you... but by the THRONE you wanted this man... this demi god to put a baby in you right now!

You don't know how much longer you two fuck it could have been five more minutes or an hour just you lay there in the blissful afterglow feeling so sweaty, as per usual after having sex with him. You could hear the haptic feedback noise from his dataslate as he was always busy but at least you two had a concession with this... he could do unintrusive things and you got your cuddles and it felt so normal. You nuzzle into his pectoral and you feel his lips on the top of your head... but you could feel it... you didn't know how to explain it but you could just feel his desire still there as if it was a storm brewing in the distance and all it needed was a breeze to suddenly head your way.

[littlejuicebox]

The Little Things

Summary: Sometime in Act 1, Astarion is beginning to realize he may like you more than he thought.

Tags/Warnings: pure fluff, feelings realization, sexual innuendo, in game spoilers

*

Astarion’s nice, simple plan is falling apart at the seams. He isn’t quite sure when it began or how you slowly wormed your way into his heart like the parasite wormed its way into his brain.

He thinks it must have started shortly after the night you two spent together in the clearing. Perhaps the day you drew his scars for him in the dirt?

You notice the little things about him, and it flusters him entirely. No one else has ever bothered to pay attention long enough to catch all the subtleties you seem to see without missing a beat.

*

You notice he makes tea but never drinks it. It tastes like dirty water on his vampiric tongue, but he loves the smell and the warmth. One day you bring him a cup of tea and urge him to try it.

“This one will be different, I promise.” You say, and you smile at him so sweetly it’s impossible to refuse.

He quirks a brow but obliges. One small sip reveals that this tea is palatable… in fact, it’s actually enjoyable.

“What’s in this? Better not be a sore attempt at poisoning me.” He murmurs with a playful smirk before taking another long sip of the warm liquid.

You grin and show him your finger, where the smallest pinprick can be seen.

Blood. Of course.

His face feels hot, like patches of warmth are spreading across his cheeks. It must be the tea.

“Clever pup,” He chuckles, “I— thank you.”

*

One day you’re simply walking by him in camp, returning from a quick foraging trip in the woods. He’s perched upon a stool, reading a book, and drinking the remnants of his morning tea you’d brought to him just over an hour ago.

It’s a lovely little treat every morning. He’s secretly delighted every time you bring it by.

You pause and smile, “Enjoying your book?”

He hums a soft yes and dog ears the page before clasping it shut to acknowledge you.

“Quite, darling. And you? Enjoying your… digging in the mud?” He asks, cocking his head just slightly as he examines the small basket of potatoes you’d procured from the earth.

“It’s not so bad,” You laugh, and then your eyes flicker to his book, “Oh, I almost forgot.”

You rustle through your bag and withdraw a thin strip of burgundy fabric, offering it to him.

Astarion takes the gift. It’s a bookmark. There’s a delicate letter A stitched in gold thread at the top of the small trinket. He’d spent a few hours last week showing you how to sew and embroider little details.

“I noticed you always fold the corners of the pages, and Gale is always grumbling about it when you return his books, so…” You shrug and smile again, “Plus, it’s a small thank you. For the sewing lessons.”

His face feels hot again. It must be the tea. Again.

“Ah, yes. I shall be sure to use it now, then. Don’t want to risk angering the wizard and getting us all blown up!” He jokes as he places the bookmark atop his book, mostly as an excuse to break away from your gaze, which is causing him to feel flustered. He doesn’t know why.

You laugh softly and step closer to him, “It’s not as good as your work.”

You absentmindedly take his hand and turn it, revealing the inner sleeve of his shirt. Your fingers trace along the cuff, admiring a piece of his own embroidery he’d done a few days ago.

“I saw you stitched these little flowers on your shirt the other day. Can you show me how to do that?” You ask, bringing your eyes back up to meet his.

He swallows. Your hand is still resting upon his wrist.

“O-of course, darling. Anytime.” He responds, still thrown. How had you noticed that? His skin tingles from where your fingers had grazed against him.

But it isn’t a bad sensation. He quite liked it, actually.

You grin and then hoist your basket back up before bidding goodbye and walking over to show Gale your harvest. Astarion is left befuddled and simply staring as you walk away.

*

That same night you’re by the campfire, and Astarion is showing you how to stitch small flowers on a scrap of cloth. You’re leaning over his shoulder, watching his work intently. The proximity is making his fingers fumble more than they usually would, but you don’t seem to notice.

“You filed your nails today,” You remark, absently, as you watch his skilled fingers work their creative magic.

He blinks and pauses mid-stitch.

His nails? You noticed the length of his nails?

“I wasn’t aware they were so obscenely long that it would be so obvious.” He responds, his nose wrinkling just slightly. Perhaps his standards of cleanliness and appearance had fallen in the wilds.

“Oh, it’s not that,” You reply, your tone almost dreamy as you continue to observe the rogue, “I just look at your hands a lot.”

Astarion’s finger slips and he pierces himself with the needle. He winces slightly as he withdraws the sliver from his hand.

“I— what?” He asks, pausing his work to assess you with wide, blinking eyes.

You hadn’t meant to say that last part aloud. You’d been entranced and disarmed by the steady rhythm of his hands and the smell of Astarion’s freshly washed skin.

He’d started a new bar of soap today. You could tell because he smelled different when he returned from the river. You’d complimented the new fragrance and he’d stared at you for a moment too long, eyebrows furrowed. You worried you’d somehow offended him. And then he laughed and made some innuendo-filled joke about cleanliness being next to godliness.

He’s waiting for you to respond, the metal sliver of a needle held at rest between his thumb and forefinger.

“I…” You start, and you feel a blush creep across your face, “You have pretty hands.”

You finish the statement lamely and with a small shrug.

One, two, three beats of silence.

Astarion’s scarlet eyes are staring into your own; he’s thinking… deeply.

Before you process what’s happening, the rogue has already abandoned his project in the dirt and brought both his hands to cup your face, plunging forward to press a kiss against your lips. His tongue slides into your mouth, urgently dancing against your own.

You two hadn’t been physical since the night of the Tiefling party. He hadn’t propositioned you again, and you were far too nervous to attempt propositioning him. You are entirely caught off guard by his advances but eagerly receive his affections anyway.

When Astarion finally breaks away from you, his face is hot. He knows it isn’t the tea this time.

He wants to show you what else he can do with his pretty hands.

[mutualcombat]

oh my god why am i awake? why did i write this?

rating: explicit

pairing: astarion/afab!tav (adriannu :3 )

cw: 18+, parallel masturbation, astarion thinking hes being a dom but is mostly just being a creachurrr. worlds smallest reference to his trauma. also this is unedited if you see mistakes no you fuckin didnt (sorry) (set during act 2 btw)

preview:

The only thing he's laid on her tonight are his eyes, and still she yields. Obliges his whims like it's gospel.

What a wonder it is to desire again. Or to be desired.

"Will you, darling?" His ask his soft. Gentle. Demure. His voice melts into a whisper. Breathy. As if speaking the very words bring him overwhelming ecstasy. "Pleasure yourself for me?"

Even in the dark space of his tent, Astarion can see Adriannu's fingers move down her belly in a torturous crawl. He inhales sharply, and licks his lips as her hand sneaks through her pressed thighs. Splitting her fingers into a 'v', she draws them up her folds, then down and up again. Her little sigh of relief makes his ears fidget.

He can smell her arousal now. Taste it in the thick of the air. Hear it in the rushing of her blood. A cornucopia of sensual delight, spread out just for him and only on her offer.

"My, just look at you." Astarion leans back on his palms from where he sits at the edge of the leather trunk. He uncrosses his legs and unlaces his trousers to take his cock in hand, kneading the rosy, wet tip between his thumb and forefinger. He exhales; a reverent sigh. "Let me see what other talents those fingers have. "

Adriannu is panting. She's watching him in that strange, half lidded way, like he's an adversary she's sizing up for a fight.

Even so, she does as he instructs. Nude, on her back with her knees drawn up and pressing flush together -- Astarion nearly preens just watching her gingerly push a finger inside. She makes a strangled noise that sounds a lot like relief.

The only thing he's laid on her tonight are his eyes, and still she yields. Obliges his whims like it's gospel.

What a wonder it is to desire again. Or to be desired.

He couldn't stand the hands on him. The grabbing, the pushing. Fabric tearing. Skin bruising. Symptoms of twenty long decades of playing the object.

To actually want for someone that wants him in return... it excites him. Terrifies him. He's elated. Perplexed. Absolutely fucking clueless. He wants to pin Adriannu down and drag his cockhead over her clit until tears of raw pleasure bead at the corners of those strange, canid-like eyes.

The slick sounds of her cunt make his fingers flex, his cock twitch. His shallow breaths are a reflex, not a need. A habit from a time when he was just a man.

He bites the inside of his cheek as she pushes another finger in. Grinds her palm against clit while her fingers pump a slow, agonizing rhythm. Something delicious burns in his gut as he watches her drip over the linens of his bedroll. He knows he'll be burying his nose in it later, whimpering as he desperately knuckles the spot under his sack and rids himself of all the pent up release from this evening and the last.

"Just what are you thinking about over there?" It's Adriannu's amused voice that brings him to. Astarion blinks.

An intrusive, downright salacious thought worms it's way into his head -- tells him how good that smile of hers might look with a set of pristine fangs. A set to match his own.

His mouth goes dry. The hunger in him suddenly burns, and the fire threatens to smoke the beast in him right out into the open.

Across the tent, Adriannu's smile widens as she works herself. She's practically breathless. "I see that face--ah," something she does causes her hips to twitch. "Nasty, desperate creature you are..."

He's on her before she can react. Crawling up her body, cock in hand and practically dripping. His claws catch in the fibers of the bedding before he even realizes they're out.

Planting his knees on either side of her shoulders, Astarion straightens up and, tilting his head back, he gives his shaft a luxuriously slow pump from base to tip. "Maybe I'll show you just how nasty I can really be."

[moonselune]

Could I please request headcanons or a Drabble for postgame Tailor!Astarion x reader? The worms are eating my brain I can’t stop thinking about him pinning dresses on his s/o with a measuring tape round his neck

The brain worms entered my head as well upon reading this

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tailor!Astarion xf!reader | The Most Beautiful Mannequin

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion worked with a meticulous grace, his hands sure and steady as they roamed over your body, pinning fabric here and there. It was strange, to see him in this domestic light. Gone was the battle-hardened vampire spawn with his daggers and shortswords in hand, now replaced by a man who had found peace in the art of tailoring, his fingers just as deft with needle and thread as they’d been with blades.

The light of the afternoon sun spilled through the window of your shared home, bathing the room in a warm glow. You stood in front of the mirror, dressed in little more than the fabric he’d carefully draped over you, while Astarion worked around you like an artist with his masterpiece.

He was muttering something to himself, eyes narrowed in concentration as he adjusted the hem of the dress. A length of measuring tape hung around his neck, and a handful of pins were tucked between his lips, their metallic gleam catching the light. Every now and then, he’d pluck one from his mouth and secure a fold of fabric, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent a shiver up your spine.

“You know,” he said around the pins, his voice slightly muffled but still carrying that familiar, teasing lilt, “this would go much faster if you could stay still for even half a minute.”

“I’m trying,” you protested, though the soft laugh that followed betrayed your amusement. “It’s not easy when you keep poking me with pins.”

“Well, if you didn’t wriggle so much, my dear, I wouldn’t have to poke you,” he countered, raising an eyebrow as he removed the pins from his mouth and placed them on a nearby table. “Honestly, you’d think you’d never been fitted for a dress before.”

“Not by someone like you,” you murmured, letting your eyes linger on him for a moment. He wore a simple linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the pale, smooth skin of his forearms, and there was a casual elegance to him that made your heart skip a beat.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he replied with a smirk, though you could see the faint flush that crept up his neck. “Now, arms up. I need to see how this falls.”

You obliged, lifting your arms as he instructed, and he stepped closer, his body brushing against yours as he adjusted the fabric over your shoulders. You could feel the warmth radiating off him, the gentle press of his fingers as they smoothed out a crease. His touch was so light, so careful, as if he was afraid that one wrong move might tear the delicate material—or perhaps tear you.

He took a step back, scrutinizing his work with a critical eye, before making another adjustment, his fingers brushing against your waist.

“Much better,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “You know, I must say, you do make for quite the lovely mannequin.”

“Mannequin?” you repeated, giving him a mock glare. “I didn’t realize I’d been reduced to nothing more than a glorified coat hanger.”

“Well, if you could refrain from moving every other second, perhaps I could start seeing you as something more,” he teased, his lips quirking into that familiar, devilish grin. “But alas, you’re not making it easy, darling.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re adorable,” he shot back without missing a beat, stepping closer once more.

This time, his hands rested on your hips, his touch lingering, and you felt your heart skip a beat as he leaned in, his breath ghosting against your ear.

“Besides,” he murmured, “it’s not every day I get to play dress-up with the most beautiful person in all the realms.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his words, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling too widely.

“You’re incorrigible,” you muttered.

“And yet, you adore me,” he replied smugly, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck before he pulled away to continue his work.

For a while, you stood there in comfortable silence, letting him work his magic. Every so often, you’d catch him stealing glances at you in the mirror, a soft, almost tender expression crossing his face before he quickly masked it with that practiced smirk. It was those moments that made your heart ache with affection, that reminded you just how much he’d changed, how far you’d both come since the days of endless battles and bloodshed.

“There,” he said finally, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “What do you think?”

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, your breath catching in your throat. The dress was exquisite, the fabric hugging your body in all the right places, the cut and stitching flawless. It was a work of art, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly it suited you, as if it had been made for you—and in a way, it had.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, turning to face him, your eyes shining with gratitude. “You’re amazing, Astarion.”

He shrugged, though you could see the pride in his eyes, the way his chest puffed out just a little.

“Well, I do try,” he said, though his voice was softer now, more genuine. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” you corrected, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “And I love you.”

He blinked, his eyes widening slightly before he let out a soft laugh, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“Always so sentimental,” he teased, though there was no bite to his words, only warmth. “But for once, I suppose I’ll allow it.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

“Thank you,” you said, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “For everything.”

He hummed, a pleased sound rumbling in his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“Anything for you, darling,” he murmured against your lips, his eyes shining with a love that made your heart feel like it might burst. “Anything at all.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Oh I actually adore Tailor!Astarion so much, and I hope you guys adore him too! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Whispers of Love (Steve Harrington)

Summary: You've been having nightmares about the earthquakes and losing the people you love. You didn't know Steve could hear you crying in your sleep.

Warnings: angst, fluff

WC: 874

read on ao3!

--

It was a strange thing, waking up to the soft rustle of sheets beside you. The room was dim, the early morning light filtering through the blinds, casting a golden hue over everything. You felt the warmth of the bed, the comfort of being wrapped in the soft, familiar embrace of your sheets and blankets. But something felt off.

You sat up slowly, the air a bit too heavy, the silence a little too thick. The bed beside you, usually so full of warmth, felt oddly empty. Your eyes searched the room, landing on the figure by the window.

Steve Harrington, the man who had somehow wormed his way into your life, your heart, was standing by the window, gazing out at the quiet world beyond. The soft light framed his profile, making him look like something out of a dream.

But that dream was shrouded in a sense of unease.

"Steve?" Your voice was still heavy with sleep, but it carried a quiet question, a pull of curiosity.

He didn’t turn around right away, but you saw his shoulders tense. There was something different about him this morning, something you couldn’t quite place. His usual easy smile, the one that could light up any room, was nowhere to be found. Instead, he just stood there, silent.

"Steve?" you repeated, your voice now tinged with concern. You swung your legs over the side of the bed, standing up to walk toward him.

When he finally turned around, his eyes met yours—tired, worn, and filled with something you couldn’t quite interpret. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he hesitated.

“You were crying in your sleep last night.”

The words hit you like a cold wave. You froze mid-step, your breath catching in your throat. The silence between you both grew thick, your heart pounding as you tried to make sense of it.

You swallowed hard, feeling that familiar sting behind your eyes. You hadn’t realized—hadn’t noticed—that the tears had been falling in your sleep.

“I—I didn’t know,” you stammered, a mixture of embarrassment and shame curling in your stomach. You tried to pull yourself together, but the truth was, you had been drowning in nightmares for weeks, each one worse than the last. But you had never allowed yourself to admit it, never allowed yourself to lean on Steve for support.

It was just easier to hide it.

Steve’s gaze softened, and he took a few slow steps toward you. His hand reached out, hesitating for just a second before he gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice low and comforting. “It’s okay. You don’t have to hide it.”

But the shame still lingered. The idea of being weak, of letting someone else see how much you were hurting—it terrified you. It had always terrified you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice small. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Steve’s expression softened even more, and for a moment, you saw the care in his eyes—the same care that had drawn you to him in the first place. He gently pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in his warmth as though he could shield you from the world.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he murmured, his voice steady, the kind of voice you could lose yourself in. “You’re going through something, and that’s okay. I’m here for you. You don’t have to go through it alone.”

You clung to him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, as if by holding onto him, you could hold onto something steady, something real. “I don’t want to burden you,” you said, voice muffled against his chest.

“You’re not a burden, Y/N,” he replied softly, his fingers gently running through your hair. “You could never be a burden to me.”

You stayed there for a long moment, just breathing in the comfort of his presence, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear. You had been so afraid to let anyone in, afraid of being seen in your most vulnerable state. But with Steve, it was different.

With him, you felt safe.

Finally, you pulled away slightly, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, embarrassed by how much you had let yourself fall apart.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” you said, your voice thick.

Steve smiled softly, wiping away another stray tear with his thumb. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. I’m here, remember? And I’m not going anywhere.”

The sincerity in his voice—his words—made your heart ache in the best way possible. You had been afraid of burdening him, but now, you realized that what you were afraid of most wasn’t the tears, the vulnerability, or the nightmares. It was the fear that Steve would give up on you.

But as he pulled you back into his arms, you knew that wasn’t going to happen. Not with him.

You could lean on him. You could cry in his arms, and he would never look at you any differently.

Because Steve Harrington wasn’t going anywhere.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything might just be okay.

[thegnomelord]

Hello there! I'm a new anon, kinda scared to ask and spill all of my weird ass fantasies that I can come up with, but I somehow found the courage to do so.

After reading through the soft sex fic with Makarov (and omfg I am going CRAZY over it) I just randomly came up with an idea involving that.

So hear me out (aka let me just be delusional)...

You, a member of 141, currently stand in the interrogation room, your back facing the door as you stared down at the one and only Vladimir Makarov himself. It was honestly a miracle that you had been able to capture him, and you still had no idea how the hell the rest of your team had managed it.

You were currently their last hope at getting some sort of information out of him, and by now the others knew very well by now how talented you were at getting it out of prisoners (albeit they didn't quite know what your methods were), hence why you were here in this room.

At this point you might as well have tried everything, these including the good old torture methods (which you noticed he seemed to quote like for some reason, perhaps he was a masochist, you weren’t completely sure), intimidation, asking politely (which wouldn't you know, didn't work), and practically everything you could think of.

As you racked your brain for any sort of other ideas, you could hear some sort of taunt from the other, and that must have set you off or something along those lines as you found yourself suddenly pinning the bastard down on the desk (you must have unlocked his handcuffs at one point during it, or perhaps he had already managed to unlock them beforehand, you weren't paying attention).

You wanted to think that the other was surprised, even just a little bit, but he wasn't, having probably expected you to have a small outburst.

Maybe you would have to resort to that. That one method that none of the others had seen in action, but one that if they did, you'd definitely get in a lot of trouble from. At least it always seemed to work.

So that's how you found yourself slowly fucking the other, not at all causing any pain, and although you'd expect the cold metal table would still inflicted just a little, you had taken the precaution to place something soft under the other to ensure that he couldn't get what he wanted. This was torture, even if in the eyes of others (not that they'd ever get to see this sight) it'd be much better, but no, it wasn't. You were well aware that the other wished for it to be harsh, having picked up on it earlier (the sick bastard), so you did the complete opposite. You weren't exactly used to it, but it was a last ditch effort.

So yeah thanks for reading whatever the hell that was :)

Idk how to continue it.

- ⨂ (I swear if that symbol has already been taken)

No no dude this is so good! SOrry it took me a lil while to respond lol, but you got my brain worms going brrrrrr so I'm just continuing it :Dd.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, Vladimir Makarov x male reader, short ficlet

You are so getting discharged for this.

"Is this what you wanted?" You ask under your breath, voice husky and raw. You grip his hip gently, your other hand keeping his tied wrists pinned to the scratchy blanket covering the cold table. "All that snark, all those insults," You slowly grind your hips, cock lazily scrapping against his walls and making him groan. "Is this what you wanted?"

It's not like he can talk with his tie gagging him. It's the softest material you had on hand, and it works to ensure Makarov doesn't bite you or himself. You're smart, despite him thinking on the contrary, more than the gruff animals that had captured him. No, you're clever. Clever enough to realize bloodshed and pain are not the stones that pave Makarov's road to hell.

Makarov trembles beneath you, teeth clenching on the fabric, desperate to get his lip between his teeth so he could bite it raw. He can't. Hell he can barely stifle the groans and moans, chest heaving to swallow the sound before it can stumble past his open mouth when your head grinds down on his prostate. Drool runs down his chin, precum leaking on his belly where his cock is trapped between your belies.

He wants to curse you out, wants to get his hands around your throat and squeeze until you choke on your own blood. But he only manages a small grunt, tear blurred eyes glaring up at you. His legs tighten around your waist, heels digging into your back.

A lick of pain races up your spine, but you don't fall for it, languidly rolling your hips. You'd taken your time to stretch him out with what you had, prepping him thoroughly even when he'd trashed and tried to kick you. You're glad you did, now Makarov can't ignore the stretch of his hole, your massive cock moulding his insides to your shape. It's just raw unadulterated feeling, please assaulting his mind whenever you bottom out and your cock bulges his stomach without any pain; so sweet it's sickening to him.

He'd kick himself at how the disgustingly sweet pleasure has his cock twitching, body winding tight as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. But his mind is starting to go numb, the hate he feels shrouded by the nearing edge of bliss. He nearly seizes off the table when you wrap your calloused hand around the base of his cock, squeezing until he's just at the cusp of pain.

"Nu-uh." You growl and stop, cock twitching deep inside him. Leaning down to press gentle kisses across his throat that burn him like acid. "You're not getting off easy." You growl, kissing the corner of his lip. "Not until you give me what I need." You look at him expectantly.

He bares his teeth, swinging his head to try and headbutt you, but you pull your head just at the right time.

"Have it your way." Your grip relaxes, starting to jerk him off at the same pace of your languidly rolling hips. His head rolls back, his best attempt at a hateful sound escaping him when his head rests on the soft blanket. He hates it, tries to struggle as best he can but it's fruitless as you just hold him down, forcing him to just take it, to just suffer this gentle torture.

You may be discharged for this. But fuck, you'll make him suffer before you are.

[druidwolf21]

*slides some stuff that give me ideas*

Imagine being Konrad Cruze daughter and what lucidity he have to protect the only innocent thing he has to any of his brothers or a nice base humans he told his legion to leave his daughter in their care knowing well she'll live a good and safe life that isn't him

And lest say after the heresy Guilliman ( after awakening and all ) there is a large planet in uncharted of space that has been trying to make contact as the one in charge have something or someone

As it's the list daughter of the Night Haunter, and she been in a force endiceted coma as she is using her ability that she inherited from her father and bit more to protect the denizen of the planet for chaos long as she can

So how would Guilliman be when situation liked that be a reaction?

*enjoy my brain dumb, you can ignore this if you want*

Ok first of all

NOT BRAIN DUMB

Brain good!!

I love this so so much!!!

I really hope you like this! Thank you for letting me write it! I rewrote it so many times

Little bit of fluff, little bit of angst!

CW: violence, bad language

@kitty-chan33 @beckyninja @lemon-russ @moodymisty @thisuserislilsilly @jaghatai-khock @laura-naruto-fan1998 @echo-of-damnation @kit-williams @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond

Konrad Kurze was a wraith, his breaths staggered and eyes wild as he tore through abandoned streets and lonely alleys. One armoured hand clutched under his tattered clothes as he ran. Above him lay a sky choked with clouds of thick chemical refuse, industrial towers spewing a blanket of toxic haze across the world and smothering the dim light of the dying sun to a muted grey sheen. The city was a maze of blistered stone and rusted iron, and the people were just as rotten. Violence and corruption wormed it's way into the soul of every living thing in Nostramo, leaving nothing in its wake but despair and blood. This was no place for humanity.

No place for you.

He paused for a moment, black eyes scanning the collapsing architecture before a sound drew his attention and he turned, teeth bared in feral snarl as he spun to the source. A small woman stepped from the shadow, a cloak bundled around her frail form as she shuffled forward. A bag swung from her shoulder and a small dagger flashed as her cape swayed with her movement.

"My lord" she croaked, weathered hands raised defensively as she approached "my lord I am here, as you commanded" she was still young, but worn out, brown hair flecked with grey and crows feet wrinkled around dull green eyes. Her youth fallen to the same fate as everyone who found themselves in this desolate place. Kurze didn't care. He stalked over to the woman, sniffing and puffing at her before finally stepping back. "Good, I didn't take you for a coward, Tela, but one can only judge so far" he bent low, his fetid breath fluttering the woman's lank hair as she froze. "You understand the... Importance of this job? The consequences should you fail?" She nodded in response. A small but firm gesture under the black stare of the primarch. "I do, my lord" she strained her neck back, staring Kurze in the eye as she spoke. "I have not failed you yet, night haunter and I do not plan to start now" Konrad rose to his full height, nodding thoughtfully before slowly drawing his own ragged cloak aside.

Clutched in his taloned hand, pressed to his chest, he held a child.

A small girl, clinging to his beaten robes with pale hands, eyes bright and large as she glanced around.

Tela watched as the hardened cold face of the lord before her softened, his hands, normally so quick to gore and maim, moved carefully as he lifted the girl from his warmth and placed her on the floor. The monster who terrorized Nostramo now stood as just a man, wrapping the child in a bundle of fabric. "Regardless of what you think of me, she deserves more than this" he growled, his eyes not leaving the girl as she laughed, unaware of the world around her. "She will be the best of us. Of me"

"your daughter will be safe with me, lord Kurze"

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Tela sat in the cargo hold, her body aching and cold from the cramped corner she hid herself in. The young girl squirmed and whined in the confines as the engines of the vessel roared to life, struggling against rocking motion as the trader ship began to depart.

"dad?" She questioned, looking at the old lady with big watery eyes, her bottom lip quivering. "Dad?"

"no sweetie, just me and you"

The girl began sobbing in earnest, tears streaming down her round face and reddening cheeks as she cried. Tela watched her for a moment, fingers twitching towards the blade at her hip. A primarch's child was an unusual thing in itself, but kurze's welp? She'd come with every intention of putting the abomination out of its misery, but this...this was not what she had expected. There was no fanged beast, no raging animal hellbent in gutting her and although the girl was larger than she should be at that age, her eyes seeing a little too much with each blurred blink, she was still just a little girl, missing her dad.

With a resigned sigh she held out her arms. "Come here, little one, I'll look after you" she cradled the girl against her chest, running frail fingers through her hair as she held her. A wave of emotion washed over tela and she blinked back tears that did not belong to her. She glanced down at the bawling toddler. A psyker too?

"what have I gotten myself into"

The two of them sat as the hull groaned and creaked around them, the sound of sobbing faded to a whimper as tela soothed her with soft words.

Shhh shhh it's ok, everything be be ok

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"Aunt Tela, I'm back!"

The elderly woman smiled from her seat on the porch, shawl drawn close around her bent shoulders to stave off the cold evening air. She raised a frail hand to you as you climbed the hill, becoming you over. "Hello love, I was beginning to worry about you"

You smiled and waved her concern off, dropping to a knee to press a soft kiss against the old woman's head. "Really Aunt, you should know better by now, I outsize and outpace everything on this planet" you laughed and raised back to your towering full height, lean muscles popping as you stretched. Tela shook her head, tutting. "I've told you before, if you get cocky, you'll get into trouble, there are things much bigger and stronger than you out there and we don't need you drawing more attention than you already do"

You chuckled softly and lowered yourself to sit on the grass in front of her, an elbow propped across your bent knee as you sat in comfortable silence staring out across the sprawling view. Wooden cabins and small holding rested on the hillside and beyond them, The city of Trahull bustled like an anthill below you, grey walls climbing high to defend the branching streets and alleys. Even from up on the hill top you could hear the faint mumble of chatter as the denizens went about their day, bartering for goods and services in the street. In the center of the city, coiled and proud, stood a spire. A titanic structure dwarfing the buildings around it, its pale marble colour stood in stark contrast to the dark concrete around it. From atop the steeple a pulse was emitted, an obsidian wave generating a translucent shield around the metropolis.

"we've been here a long time, Aunt, If someone was coming, they would've been here by now"

The old woman sighed and ran her fingers gently along your head in thought. "60 years is long for me, love, but it's a drop in the bucket for you, I need to make sure you'll be safe when I'm gone." You hummed in response, unwilling to acknowledge the way the conversation was going, deciding to enjoy the simple touch along your scalp instead. "The imperium hasn't taken much interest yet, but if they knew you were here they would..."

You reach over and gently grasped her fingers, your hand dwarfing her own as you held her. "Tela, I know, I remember all the stories, the primarchs won't find me, I swear" you turned to look at her and smiled "I promise I won't go looking for trouble"

"well trouble has a way of finding you, unfortunately"

You shrugged off the well intended accusation, huffing slightly as she flicked your head with a laugh. She suddenly grew quiet, he hands stilling in your hair.

"are you still having that nightmare?"

You swallowed dryly and nodded. Images flashed through your mind, the city burning, corpses littering the street, blood flowing down the alleys as red eyes flashed in the darkness. "your father had them too, don't dwell on them, lest you bring them to pass"

You both sat and watched the sun slowly dip below the horizon, the orange and red hues thrown from the evening casting a warm light across the terrain like molten gold. You shrugged the cloak from off your shoulders and slung it around Tela, the weighty material dwarfing her as she snuggled into the layers. "It seems like it was just yesterday that you were the one buried in fleece to keep warm" she sighed wistfully, picking at a loose thread on the purple material. "Now you're out there, protecting the cities from orcs and eldar" she clutched the cape to her, arthritic hands shaking as she pulled it against her. "Such a loud child, always making trouble"

You cocked an eye brow at her as she spoke, letting her reminisce as she leant back in her seat. "I feared you'd turn out like your father, thought I'd made a mistake, but here you are"

"here I am" you agreed, watching her rock slightly in her chair.

"my sweet girl"

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"Tela, Tela wake up, we need to move. NOW"

Tela opened her eyes groggily, seeing your concerned face peering at her through the darkness. "What? What's going on?"

"no time to explain, were going to Trahull"

You bent and clutched her to your chest, lifting her with ease as you kicked the cabin door open and you felt her stiffen against you.

From atop the hills peak you could see it all, screams and howls carried in the wind filled your ears as gunfire and artillery filled the air, the sky was crowded with ships and choked by thick black smoke that coiled and curled, blotting out the stars.

Barreling down the hill towards the city, the cries grew louder and the smell of burt flesh and scorched brick was overwhelming. You kept your eyes fixed ahead as you drove downwards towards the gate, jumping over bodies and piles of ash as the walls loomed closer. As you moved through the debris, you dropped low, clutching Tela to your chest as you crept forward. Your ears pricked for any sound as the burned remains of cabins and homes groaned and heaved around you. Bile rose in your throat as you recognized the remains of neighbours. people who had helped you, laughed with you, now discarded into the trampled earth like broken toys.

A noise

You paused, eyes flicking through the smoke as a shape began to emerge from the haze. Your eyes widened in surprise before you twisted and ducked down behind a smoldering beam. Blood red armour, fringed with gold and platinum, an axe, bloody and rusted dragging across the floor. His pauldron displayed a round mouth lined with jagged teeth. You drummed your thoughts, digging through your memory to try and recognize the sigil but the smell of ichor and the taste of iron on your tongue overloaded your senses.

"what is a marine doing here?" You hissed, trying to ground yourself. Tela moved against your grip, pulling the hood off her face to glance around. Sadness and rage consumed her features as she spoke. "World eaters, Angron's dogs" she spat. You glanced round the corner, watching the mass of Ceremite and muscle skulk off into the ash. "Why are they here? You always said the astartes were only sent in to" The old woman cut you off "I know what I said, but something isn't right here, we shouldn't linger"

You nodded and turned back around the corner.

You reeled backwards as a metal boot swung towards your face, narrowly missing you as you jumped backwards. You scrambled to your feet and hissed through your teeth, raising to your full height and glaring down at the warrior. The helmet tilted as the cold steel stared back up at you, pausing for a moment before hefting the axe to its shoulder.

"Tela, go and hide, I'll find you in a minute" you growled, placing her gently behind you. She placed a soft hand on your arm, looking up at you with concern before scurrying off. You stared down at the marine, eyes narrowed and fists clenched. You were not prepared for this fight, you had no armour and no weapons, only the soft tunic, trousers and cloak you had gathered before escaping.

"what do you want?"

You didn't understand the garbled words that were returned to you, and you didn't have time to think before a heavy blade was swung towards your center. Instinct took over and your body moved on its own as you twisted away and swung your fist at the gleaming helmet, catching the ornate crest and tilting the marine into a cartwheel sideways as his axe flew from his grasp and his helmet flew from his head. A sickening crunch as his leg twisted in Ceremite. All thoughts in your mind were muffled as a primitive voice took command.

Kill him

Tear him

Break him

You lunged after the marine, collecting his discarded axe from the ground as you charged. The marine turned to face you as he clambered to his feet, his injured leg giving way beneath his weight. bare face revealing a scarred visage, riddled with cables and cord that plunged under his skin and His lips drew back in a snarl as he ripped a bolter from is holster on his hip and began firing, the rounds tearing through wood and metal as they pinged through the wreckage. A burn in your shoulder as one embedded your flesh, another hissing past your cheek as it burned a furrow under your eye.

You raised the axe above your head and swung it down with a scream, cleaving through sinew and bone. The world eater's hands shot to his chest gurgling and choking as he pawed at the blood oozing from between the plates of his armour as he fell forward with a last rattling breath.

Casting the axe to the floor, you sucked breath into your lungs through clenched teeth. Blood thrummed in your ears and adrenaline pulsed through your body as you glared down at the corpse, you bit back a manic grin, high in the victory as you spun round.

"Tela, it's ok, he's dead"

No response

"Tela?"

Through the soft popping of cindered wood and battle cries you heard her, a soft whimpering emanating from the wreckage. Sprinting over, you collapsed next to her, eyes already burning as you tried to staunch the wound in her stomach. You ripped at your tunic, plastering the already drenched fabric against her to halt the flow. A soft hand found your face and you blinked tears away as she smiled up at you.

"You need to go"

"I'm not leaving you behind"

"you don't have a choice"

Head bowed, you sobbed, openly weeping as you continued to paw at spreading crimson on her belly. "Head to the city, the tower, if you can get there, you can keep the shield up" she coughed, her light frame spasming in pain.

"I can't do it, please mother" you wept, shaking your head. A warm smile spread across her palming face as her thumb ran gentle circles across your cheek. "yes you can, my love"

Her hand fell from your face and she sighed.

"always such a loud child"

And she was gone.

You screamed your despair into her body, pressing your face into her hair as you swore, begged, threatened someone, anyone to help. But no help came.

And you were alone.

After a while, you dragged yourself to your feet, casting one last look at her, you slowly made your way towards the city.

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Guilliman rubbed his temples and groaned inwardly at the sharp rap at his door.

"what"

"I apologize for the interruption my lord, but the astropath picked up a message, they said it was urgent."

The primarch motioned the serf and they scuttled forward, reaching up and placing the large rolled parchment on his desk before bowing hastily and making their exit. Roboute sighed again and reached out to the letter, a scowl creasing his brow as he cracked the wax seal and began to read. Blue eyes flickered over the page in disbelief, rereading the message before he lurched from his chair. Slamming open his door, he stormed down the corridor to the shock of the Invictarus guardsman stationed outside his office.

"my lord? What is happening?"

" That's what I'm going to find out" guilliman thought, as he made his way to the helm.

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The planet was desolate, the soil was barren and lifeless, motes of dust flying into the air as the thunderhawk landed. A small retinue of men stood outside, clad in thick protective robes and face shields to protect them from the acrid swirls of sand that danced along the seals of their suits as they waited for the primarch to depart.

"my lord primarch, such an honour, we are grateful for your decisive response" the leader uttered, dipping into a low bow as guilliman stepped from the vessel. "As soon as we found it, we knew it should be investigated at once, a rather splendid archeological find, if I may say."

Roboute gestured for the men to lead them as his guard readied bolter and blade. Following the men at a leisurely pace, he cast an eye around his surroundings. Whilst the outside world had been laid to waste, the city sat resplendent behind high walls, a tall tower peaked over the great palisade , emitting a purple hued barrier that shielded the occupants from the wasteland. The archeologists stepped through the barrier with barely a glance, but roboute paused, examining the barrier closely but pressing a gauntleted hand flat against its surface.

The barrier convulsed under his touch, a blue ripple passing through its surface briefly before fading again. He rubbed his fingers together, feeling a familiar psyching energy emanating from the barrier, but a strangeness alongside it he couldn't place. He stopped through the wrought iron gates and pressed on, listening to the gentle sounds of the city. The imperium had hardly laid a claim here, with only a few militarum patrolling the alleys. The streets were crowded but happy, children ran in-between the feet of market owners peddling their wears from bright stalls.

A small child ran into the back of his legs, clustering against the armour. He looked down, towering over the small boy, who picked himself up off, dusted his britches and looked up at him with a toothy smile, gaps in his front teeth and a bruise forming already on his forehead. "Sorry sir!" He laughed before squealing and running after his friends.

Guilliman's gaze traced after the boy as he ran, an almost wistful look across his stoic face before returning his attention to the tower. Approaching the base, he was directed to a large door, carved so intricately into the marble it was easily missed. Pushing it open revealed a set of steps driving down into the dark bowels of the earth.

"wait here, I'll go alone"

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It was so cold

Or maybe it was warm

A touch, cold metal reverberating, echoing

An image, a man clad in blue and gold

Where am I?

Is this.

.

.

Home?

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Roboute paced the sphere cautiously, examining the cables and pipes feeding from it into the heights of the building. The sphere was glass, or something similar at least, a fluid bubbled softly inside, iridescent and ethereal.

Floating in the liquid, was a girl.

Curled in the fetal position, her eyelids flickered like she was dreaming, fingers twitching gently as if to reach out and grasp. Her face was soft, but the similarities were undeniable.

"Konrad, what did you do" Guilliman muttered, running a hand through his blonde crop. "And to hide her for this long" he felt his hearts pounding in his chest, his rage at his brother surfacing, along with the grief of everyone he had lost. Konrad had been a monster, fueled by rage and fear, but would she be the same? Why was she here, who was she?

Why did he hide you?

He continued to patrol the edge of the receptacle, tapping and touching every so often. Thousand of theoreticals pouring through his mind as he measured and counted. Finally he stopped, pulling his fist back and shattering the glass with a deft punch.

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Everything was too cold and too loud, but all at once too quiet and too hot, you felt yourself falling forwards and a strong pair of hands catching you as you gasped, breathing air for the first time in

How long had it been?

Memories came flooding back to you, the attack, the devastation. You had entered the spire to boost the shield, to save the city, to sleep and forget it all.

So where am I now?

Above you hovered a man you had never seen, but felt so familiar. You reached a hand to him, cupping his cheek with a soft touch as you lay in his arms.

"I.... Know... You?"

"no" he whispered, leaning in slightly to the touch "but I'm here to help"

You closed your eyes again and nodded slowly, pulling your hand back "everyone... The city... They're ok?"

The primarch gazed down at your face, so much like his brother, and yet so soft. "You're worried about the city?"

"yes"

"the city is fine"

"good, thats good"

The lord of ultrimar sat, holding you gently as you faded in and out of consciousness. His head was a mess, filled with confusion and hope as he listened to you mumble. Kurze might have been an abomination.

But you might be better.