#this was a new brush set test! big fan

[retquits]

hayden 🌾

[withlove-xixi]

— SWEET TOOTH: portgas d. ace x reader

KINKTOBER DAY SEVEN: FACESITTING ᥫ cw: nsfw, facesitting, oral sex ᥫ wc: 1129 ★ erm . this prompt was meant for kiryu but i couldnt figure out how to do it, so we are getting ace instead yipee cross posted on ao3 — MINORS DNI! —

— ACE LIKED ALL SORTS OF FOOD.

[♡]: he wasn’t quite a picky eater at all and he was always willing to try new things. the things he wouldn’t eat were a small dwindle of a handful of things, but even then he’d eat the if they were prepared right. ace didn’t have preferences, well, that is except his sweet tooth for you.

WHEN ACE FIRST ASKED YOU TO SIT ON HIS FACE, he knew you were hesitant. For starters, you had never done this before. Though it was far from the first time Ace would eat you out, you couldn’t help but be nervous. Sure, you’ve heard couples doing these things but you never thought to actually try it. You weren’t quite sure how it went and all the more you were unsure how it would go. Despite being more or less willing to try all of Ace’s requests when it came to your sex life, every time he suggested something you couldn’t help but be just a bit nervous about it. It was natural to be wary of new things after all. But you trusted Ace, and really, sitting on his face seemed harmless enough.

“S’okay, baby, I can take it. Don’t gotta worry ‘bout me,” he had said reassuringly with a cheeky grin. “‘Sides, I know you wouldn’t hurt me, yeah? I’ll tell ya if it’s too much.”

Still there was some hesitation on your part, but you agree regardless, admittedly a bit curious on how things would go. So there you were, Ace’s face lay directly beneath you while you sat on your knees above him. Looking down, you can see the way he eyes you hungrily, tracing over the space between your thighs with such intense want it makes you shiver and clench instinctively. He licks his lips in anticipation, big hands resting on either of your thighs, rubbing circles on your skin to calm you down.

Your lip quivers at the sight of him, the way his lips are slightly parted, the way the edge of his hot breath fans against your skin, the way his eyes aren’t even looking back at yours, just tunnel visioning on your sex, eager to taste it. You swallow nervously, waiting for Ace to move, to say something. But instead he stays still, he stays quiet. The only noise from him is his deep breathing, it sounds like he’s panting. And the only movement from him is the twitch of his fingers, the steady drum of them against your skin.

It takes a bit for it to click that he was waiting for you. The realization only set you a bit more on edge because you had been waiting for him. And really you thought that this proximity was enough, that Ace would meet you halfway. But you supposed you weren’t really sitting so much as you were somewhat awkwardly hovering over him. With mustered scraps of courage, your hands find support in the headboard of the bed as you shakily lower yourself, just slightly to test the waters and see how low you can actually get.

Ace’s breath hitches when you move, and you hear the soft sound of him squirming around beneath you. It’s enough to encourage you to go a bit lower, lower and lower until you feel his nose brush against you. You jolt at the sudden touch, a shiver running up your spine at the realization he was way nearer than you anticipated. You feel his fingers dig into your skin, his grip on you tightening in an almost desperate way.

“Baby…” Ace pleas, breathily, dreamily. His hands travel from the sides of your thighs to your hips.

Then suddenly, you’re pulled downward, strong hands pressing you flush against his face. He straight up moans at the contact, not wasting a second to start licking and sucking away at your warmth. It takes you a second to recover from your initial shock, the sudden electric shock that tingles all over your body when his tongue laps over your hole with gusto. You grip the headboard tighter, your body lurches forward that your head’s now against it too. Moans and whines leave your lips like prayer as Ace eats his heart out, making sure every inch of your sex is given the same attention from his tongue and his lips.

He eats you out messier than normal. There’s a slick, almost sticky feeling that runs against your thighs and his cheeks; you’re almost certain it was his spit. You moan as your thighs clench, trapping his head between them. Ace groans in response and his mouth moves faster, hungrier, like you had added more fuel to the fire. His hand stay on your hips, holding onto the for dear life. You whimper when you feel him nuzzle his face against you, his nose brushing against your skin.

“H-hah— Ace… W-wait, you— Need to b-breathe—” You rasp between pants and whines, finally finding the courage to look at his face.

He feels your thighs clench when his eyes meet your pretty, pleasured expression. You must’ve been taken aback from the sudden eye contact. Ace chuckles at the thought, you were such a cutie.

What he doesn’t realize is his chuckles, muffled by your weight, vibrate so nicely against you. You sit up-right at the feeling, unknowingly grinding your hips against him, chasing your own high. If you had the mind to conjure coherent thoughts, you might’ve noticed Ace’s lips briefly curl upwards into a sly smile before going back to eating you out. His hands begin to help guide your hips, rocking you steadily to the pace you set. God, that bastard.

“Clo-close—! Ace—” You moan in strangled cries as your cum, thighs pressing against each other, locking his head in place, body freezing up as waves of pleasure wash over you, eyes shut tightly in blissful release.

All the while, Ace laps up your release, his tongue working against the crevices of your entrance as his hands continue to slowly rock your hips against his face, letting your ride out your high. You whimper quietly as your body slowly relaxes, your hands finally letting go of the headboard. You tilt your head back to stare blankly at the ceiling, catching your breath and letting the final fleeting waves of pleasure wash away. 

There’s a short moment of almost complete silence before Ace hurriedly pats at your thigh. Dazily, you look down to meet his eyes, only to see his brows are furrowed and there’s this almost panicked look in his eyes. Only then do you realize Ace very much needed to breathe.

Quickly you hop off him and he instantly gasps for air. You lean over him, worried. You scan his face for any sign of discomfort, but you’re met with the aftermath of your orgasm, the entire bottom half of his face covered in his saliva and remnants of whatever cum he wasn’t able to swallow. Shyly, you lick your lips, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Ace, who bears a lopsided grin despite his heavy panting.

“Wasn’t so bad now was it, sugar?”

[whoopsyeahokay]

Alphabet Soup

summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.

(AN: this'll be a multiple-oneshots deal—out of order—with regular additions until it's complete.)

🛎️prompt - Wally Clark NSFW alphabet.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. grey!Wally Clark. cheating. egregious use of the word 'baby'.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🧿

Alphabet Soup - C

C is for Wally's competency and control on and off the field. That single-minded focus that he puts toward the task at hand. He's not a show-off, doesn't flaunt his skills unless the showmanship is called for—"And that's another touchdown assisted by 57!"—you know, those times when the crowd is chanting his name and Coach is punching the air.

It may be hard to believe, but Wally dedicates a lot of time to learning about what interests him. Does the research, collects the tools, and works himself hard until he has it mastered before he shares what he's capable of with others.

This dedication earned him employee of the month at Reggie's Auto Repair several months in a row; big hands making quick, greasy work of mistreated car parts. It's how he helped his grandfather remodel his mama's kitchen; expertly cutting pieces of wood for new cabinets; drilling in the finished product; smearing mud on the wall to set the new backsplash his mother swooned over at Home Depot.

Point is, Wally's gets really fucking good at whatever he puts his mind to. And, these days his mind is almost exclusively occupied by you. A cyclical kaleidoscope of things he's learned about you on auto-play from the moment he wakes up to the moment he passes out.

He wants to learn more—everything—about you. Your favorite food, color, season, show; your stupid star sign, fuck, e v e r y t h i n g. And he will. Because that's what Wally does. He absorbs facts like a sponge and sticks them in his arsenal to use when he needs to.

Wally wields his knowledge like a weapon in the bedroom, noting every sound you make as he tests the waters. He's draped over you, propped up on an elbow, watching your face for clues as his hand tracks down down down your side to your hip to your thigh. Squeezes hard enough to leave prints and lifts your leg to hook is around his waist.

"You want me, baby?" He asks, grinding against you, your skin and his wet with too much black cherry lube. His breathing is ragged, voice strained, hips a maddeningly slow back-and-forth as he teases those sounds out of you. "Want me inside you?"

He dips in, brushes his lips over yours once, tickle-soft, before truly pressing in with teeth and tongue. The kiss is dirty, hard, deep, but the roll of his hips remains at that too-slow pace.

"Want me to make you feel good, baby?" He pinches your nipple between thumb and index. He smirks, proud and so fucking turned on, when you grab him by his necklace and drag him into another kiss.

It's all he needs to convince him to stop teasing, line himself up, and rock into you with one hard thrust. Your mouth falls open, eyes squeezed shut, expression open and pink and so fucking beautiful it takes everything in Wally not to bust a nut right then and there. You've done quickies in the locker room, fast ones in the car, and as hot as all that is, Wally wants to see what you look like when he fucks you slow.

He can last for a while. Has made a fucking point to learn how to prolong his own pleasure so he can give you yours and he isn't going to consider coming until you're a mess beneath him. Sobbing and begging and needy for him to fill you up. And you will be. Because he's learned, hasn't he?

Reaching under the pillow beside you, he pulls out something he's been aching to play with. He shifts, up and back, sitting on his haunches as he turns you onto your side. You make such a pretty picture, hair fanned out, eyes glazed, lips bitten pink and pouty.

"Gonna be a good girl for me?" Wally presses the button. The wand starts to vibrate, low at first and then harder as he adjusts it. "Gonna let me play with you?"

Before you can respond, Wally places the head of the toy against your clit at the same time he rams into you. A choked-off moan, head thrown back, fingers clawing Wally's chest, arms, hips.

"That's it baby," He coos, rolling his hips, in and out, cock grazing every nerve-ending inside you, fat tip hitting your g-spot on every upstroke. "That's it, fuck, you're so hot, baby," Wally groans and he can't look away, has to watch you tremble apart over and over as you convulse around him.

Minutes later, "You're gonna make me come," he warns, listening to your mewls and moans and pleas for mercy, too much, please, Wally, I can't please please please, I can't.

And it's blinding; a long, flushed, thunderous feeling when Wally comes inside you, grinning like an idiot because he's learned more about your threshold for pleasure-pain and plans to use that knowledge over and over again, until you can't think of anything else but how good Wally makes you feel.

🧿___________________________

also available on AO3!

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

[spicywomenyouwant]

It was only your second day as a casting director at Swallow Talent Agency when Hallie Greene, an up-and-coming movie star, walked through your door. You had just been given the job to cast for a big new Hollywood blockbuster, and word spreads quick in acting circles apparently.

You greeted the 21-year-old actress and invited her to your office. She was obviously enthusiastic to take on the lead role; one big break like this, and her career would be set. Hallie had spent three years in the supporting cast, steadily gaining an impressive resume of roles, but she had never been given the lead. Nonetheless, the pretty girl’s petite figure, winning smile and one famously shocking nude scene where her character was fucked by a German Shepard dog built a cult-following of horny male fans who would flock to watch anything she appeared in.

Smiling at the erotic memory of watching that scene for the first time, you gave Hallie an excerpt from the script to prepare for a screen test, and left the office to let her rehearse. When you returned, the best surprise you had had for a while was waiting for you. There, sitting on your desk, was one of the most desirable and sexy starlets in Hollywood, naked from the waist up. Her nipples were pierced and hard in the chilly air, her tits perky and cute.

“I want the lead role,” Hallie said, “I really want it.” She pushed out her chest a little more. “I know what it takes to succeed in this industry as a woman, and I’m willing to do whatever you want…”

Little did you know, she was completely serious. Hallie got her start acting in commercials at age 12, and more than once she watched her mother suck a producer’s cock to get her daughter a shot at the big time. When she turned 16, she took mommy’s place on her knees and swallowed her first semen, and she never looked back. Since then, she had sucked and fucked her way into every role she could. She spent hours pleasuring fat, sweaty executives with her mouth and hands, and went on secret weekend getaways (otherwise known as fuckfests, no holes barred) with certain directors to secure her place in their films.

On one such getaway at 19 years old, she was even forced to recreate her infamous German Shepard scene for real with a particularly sadistic casting director, getting dominated by the rutting animal whilst he took humiliating photos for his own personal use.

“What do I have to do for the role?” She asked with a smile. This girl was a good actor. “I can wank you off or suck you here and now, or I could come over to your house tonight so you can help me… rehearse my lines,” she said with a smirking wink, lightly brushing your arm.

“If you want to do anal stuff or cum inside me without protection I want a bonus on top of the role’s salary, but other than that I’m easy.” And with that, she sank to her knees, smiling sweetly. Her mouth was enticing, begging to be filled with your cock, her nipples were pink and her breasts firm. Without a doubt, her pussy would be sweet, tight and satisfyingly wet.

What would you do? Would you take Hallie up on her offer, and if so how? Would you fuck get mouth and make her gag on your cock in the office, shooting a load down her throat? Or would you take her home with you and exploit your position to molest her A-lister pussy for free?

Once you’ve fucked her, would you give her the role? Or would you break your deal and wait for the next desperate, horny young actresses to stroll through your door and repeat the process?

[thebadguys2news]

🟢Interview: Director Pierre Perifel talks The Bad Guys 2

"The Bad Guys 2 is James Bond meets Mission Impossible animated action" -director Pierre Perifel & producer Damon Ross

About the opportunity the first movie left: “We leave the bad guys as they’re trying to be good. They’ve paid their debt to society, and they’re about to be released from prison, and there’s a whole arc after that where they’re ready to be accepted by society.” -Pierre Perifel

About pushing things further:"This new one is really all about opening the universe of ‘The Bad Guys,’ – both story-wise, where we’re going to just explore the new set pieces and characters, just leave the centralized cities, and explore different locations – and more cinematic sets, which is super exciting. We’re pushing the visual style. We reshaped our characters a little bit. We are going to add special effects that feel a bit more like hand-drawn. There’s definitely more line work in the texturing and brush strokes. We’re pushing a bit more stylized. We’re not going too crazy. It’s still going to feel like ‘The Bad Guys” with that very painterly, illustrative look.” -Pierre Perifel

About the Sequel: “They’re struggling a little bit, going from job interviews to try and pay bills that they can’t afford, until they get captured by this trio of super villains, and forced to do one last job. The movie is about testing Wolf’s determination to be a good guy. Did he make the right choice? That really is the big philosophical argument for him.” -Pierre Perifel

"It’s one thing to go good, it’s quite another to stay good” - Damon Ross

About Kitty Kat: "She's Wolf 2.0. She’s super smart, super strong, cooler and younger than Mr. Wolf. Her second-in-command is a Boar. She’s the opposite of Kitty, this bigger-than-life character with a soft heart, but has childish energy. “ He continues, “The last character is a raven. She’s super dry and sarcastic, and her humor is on point.” -Pierre Perifel

About what they're excited fans to see: "What I love about Marvel movies is the opening of this universe where you start with one superhero and just slowly build up a world around it. For us, it was really important to open the world and give the audience something that you can see could have more movies behind that one. For me, it really is a fun ride, but on a much bigger scale and higher octane than the first film. And I think that’s what I’m excited to see how audience react to this.” -Pierre Perifel

"We established our characters in the first movie. Now we get a chance to expand and deepen those characters, the hard work (done) of just introducing them, as in the past. Now we can add the different dimensions and layers and get to know them even better" -Damon Ross

"The books genre hop and he [Australian author Aaron Blabey] spends a little time in one genre. Jumps to another. played in the ‘Ocean’s Eleven’ space. Now we get to ratchet things up; action wise, stake wise and set piece wise, and lean into ‘Mission: Impossible. Even when we were starting the first movie, we thought, if we had a chance to make a second, a third, more movies, we would love to do the same, not just do heist movies in different locations. Nobody does set pieces better than the ‘Mission: Impossible’ franchise. We have a pretty, not-so-subtle nod to that.” -Damon Ross

Interview from Variety & The Warp. Based on the books by Aaron Blabey.

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

So... I don't have a very specific request, I'm just a huge fan of your writing and particularly the smuts you've written with Leon lol, so I wanted to ask for something really naughty like AS PORNOGRAPHIC AS POSSIBLE and maybe related to degradation kink lol please I'M BEGGING YOU NOT TO JUDGE ME, I know this isn't much like canonical leon so feel free to use other characters you like, really just wanted to use the chance of asking you something before you close the requests <33 thanks!!

Okay... Your wish is my command! I hope you don't mind it that since you gave me freedom to pick a character, I actually chose to write Wesker porn. If it's not of your taste you can totally send me another request and istg I'll do it with any character you want lol now, I love Wesker, and I like to keep as close as I can to the cannonical personality, so I should warn this gives a hella toxic and abusive relationship hints! I hope you enjoy it, anon, as well as y'all &lt;;3

Bunny | 3.2k

ao3 | masterlist ✦ Pairing: Albert Wesker x f! reader ✦ Summary: You wake up in Wesker's mansion after accomplishing a difficult mission and he gives you a new drug he's been testing. The effects are quite... dear to you. ✦ TW:  HIGHLY NSFW MINORS DNI, explicit, very explicit, smut, very pornographic, f!reader, little to none f! physical appearence descriptions, very much porn, p in v, degradation kink, unprotected, he cums inside, dirty talk, petcalling, he humiliates you a bit, he's rather toxic as Wesker would be, uses you, no fluff (very slightly in his own wicked way) I inspired this in this song, since I'm dumb and don't know how to embed spotify songs in here, click here if you'd like to hear it &lt;3

You open your eyes to a big, vast dining room in front of you. The walls are adorned with exquisite wallpaper and ornate trimwork. The ceiling is high and vaulted, with beautiful light fixtures hanging from what seems to be golden chains. The room is lavishly furnished with a massive mahogany dining table, with beautiful wine-red chairs that seem to belong to a very expensive collection. Crystal chandeliers cast a dim, flickering light over the table, and paintings in ornate frames hang on the walls, with their eccentric content - suits the owner quite well. 

Doesn’t take you much to realize you’re in Albert’s mansion. You’ve never been here before, only perhaps by the gates, delivering something off to the doorman and that was far from enough to even wonder what secrets lived vivid inside of those walls.

“You’re finally awake… Good.” You hear his voice coming from behind you, and then his hands calmly taking over both your shoulders, his fingers brushing against the thin material of your shirt. As you look down at yourself, you realize you’re wearing completely new clothes, different from the used, semi-destroyed ones you were before on mission. You’re clean, you can feel the delicious smell of your own perfume sprayed along your hair and neck. “You've caused quite a stir among my colleagues, my dear…” He continues, with a faint smirk playing on his lips; you shiver.

“Is that so… May I ask why, Doctor?” You ask, your face lifting just enough over your shoulder so you can look up at him. 

Wesker chuckles softly, his pale blue eyes burning into yours over the rim of his glass. He takes a leisurely sip of wine before setting it down on the table, along with another glass - one he offers to you, in a hand gesture. You accept, sipping a bit from it.

“Do you underestimate yourself? Your talent? Your own dedication to me and my projects, you see - it is enviable for many, bunny.” His predatory grin widens in pointy canines. “And you succeeded again. I trust you encountered no complications in your way? Despite the clear miscommunication at the end, of course, dear I should’ve let you know about my little creation there…”

You feel a mixture of unease and a strange sense of satisfaction at his words. Deep down, you know that you want it - his twisted form of affection, his praising whenever you succeed at something he longs for. You can’t hold back a sly grin from forming on your lips as a response.

“I dealt with it.” You summed. “No witnesses, and your little creation almost killed me, Albert.” You sigh, and Wesker lets out a wicked soft laugh to your commentary. 

“Nonsense… I’d never let you go to waste like that. Do you really have so little faith in me?” One of his hands slides up from your shoulder, trailing a feather-light touch along your neck; fast enough, a motion of his wraps it up around your neck almost entirely. You feel shivers down your spine and straighten up your posture to the sudden bit of force he applies. 

“No, of course not… All I meant is, it was a complication. I don’t think I’d make it if it wasn’t for you.” You admit, your eyes gleaming through the dim light of the chandelier and gazing through his icy crimson eyes. Wesker’s free hand reaches out for your face, grabbing your cheeks between his fingers in a calm yet firm motion; it lifts your face and now you have no other option but to stare deep into his soul-eating eyes.

“Of course you wouldn’t. But then again, that’s what I was there for, hm?” He moves that bit of your hair from your face, wanting to see some more of you. The obscure gleam his eyes get anytime he lays them onto you is a terrifying feeling; not every man you met had enough power to unsettle you. In fact, none, till Albert. Till much before the weird chemistry and the hidden undertones to every aspect of communication between the two of you became unbearable, and you started falling for his disgraceful tongue, the desirable words he’d use against you. You started delivering yourself even further. If someone asked you when did it come down to becoming his personal object of pleasure - his slut, as he’d say himself, you wouldn’t know how to answer. The truth is, this has been happening for too much time now.

You get apprehensive, yet excited - he’s right. He wouldn’t leave you behind, he’d be right there when you needed him. You’re not that foolish - you know his goals are the highest peak of his life, but you definitely made your way to the top tier of his prized possessions, and you know that because it is for you he looks when he’s in need; it is for you he calls. Is that a good thing?

“Hm… you were keeping track of me all of the time? It didn’t look much like.” You ask, your eyes never really leaving his as they burn you in the gratitude facade he keeps whenever talking to you. You look suspicious for a moment, almost like you don’t believe him, like you accuse him of putting you through this risk. This man is a monster; you fell for those pretty lies he tells you; he plays you like a game, and you for one is having too much fun to let go.

“Oh, but I always am.” His thumb brushes your plump lips lightly, you feel fire spreading up across your thighs, a fluttering feeling brushing the walls inside you; your heartbeat speeds up ever so slightly, fact that doesn’t come unnoticed by his superhuman senses, almost like he can hear it - ba-dum, ba-dum. He smiles, a wicked grin, his laugh came out as a little nasal sigh. “Is this defiance I’m sensing right now? Are you mad at me?”

His demeanor is calm, calculated as it usually is; it doesn’t make you any less apprehensive now. Your heart beats faster. You regret doubting him.

“I’d never. You know so.” You refute, as quickly as you can. Your hand calmly reaches for his wrist, trying to ease the pressure he’s applying onto your cheeks right now; he doesn’t.  

"Then give me a kiss." he purrs, his voice filled with an unsettling cruel sense of amusement from the fear he can sense from you; not too much, not enough to make you run away from him, just enough to remind you of your place here. 

Your body leans towards his tall figure, you're devoid of self-preservation when it comes to him; your hand on his wrist seems to anticipate what comes next, when before you can even reach for his lips, his grip around your neck worsens and the air starts to feel thin around you; he doesn’t choke you enough to make you faint, he likes seeing you struggle, and there you are: this pathetic little thing struggling to find some air through his big slender hand, when he didn’t even bother taking off his gloves to touch you skin to skin.

“Where is my kiss, bunny?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing in a psychopathic face of false pity. You struggle to talk, why do you like this? You feel adrenaline rushing through your veins, the need of winning or at least passing through this game of power he forces you through. “You can’t speak? Pathetic little whore, let me give you some help then.” 

In a sudden and calculated motion, he roughly picks you up by your neck and slams your body against the big dinner table. A cracking sound echoes through the room as his wine glass shatters on the ground, and the chairs move around by his motion. You gag as you desperately look for some air till relief washes over you when he finally loosen up enough so you can pull oxygen in again. You don’t allow a single tear to form in your eyes, no, not yet.

“Now now, I don’t like it when you defy me like this, bunny, just when I complimented your complacency?” He speaks out again while you still try to recompose, slight red handprints appearing across your neck; his red eyes wander over it with a sense of pride, his smile fades like it never existed. He’s sternly piercing at you now, an expression that makes it very clear he pities your struggle.

“It wasn’t my intention, Wesker-” You cough, your gaze following his; your eyes seem to be looking for his although he avoids them for your own torture. Wesker lays his forehead against your shoulder, his free hand lifts the hem of your shirt only enough so he can brush the bare skin of your waist. You thrill, intensely. A weird feeling starts taking over your stomach. “I really thought I’d die in that place.” You admit in a whisper, your voice comes out as a breath that hits hot against his neck skin. As your cheek brushes through his sharp jaw extension, his smell invades your nostrils - male cologne, expensive. 

“You’re suggesting then it was too much for you to handle?” He asks in a whisper against your ear, and you almost let out a warm, low groan in a response.

“No. I can handle it, I can take everything. That’s not- I guess I just-” You interrupt

yourself; his body is way too close to yours, he towers over you, you’re sitting over the edge of that table now with your legs around his waist - you feel something sparkling inside of your belly once again; your core throbs to the simple thought of his proximity to you, his cocks proximity to you. It’s so close, barely there, only a piece of fabric. Your entire body starts feeling weirdly hot, warm, burning desire consuming you as his hand starts pulling you closer, getting rid of any space between the two of you. You can barely breathe right now, What’s with me now? What the fuck…

“You just what, bunny, babbles, rubbish, foolish things, shut up. Talk straight to me.” He orders, and you can sense from his voice tone that he has a devious smile on his face now. Wesker squeezes your waist tight against him, his fingers now digging onto your skin, his lips brushing against your collarbone and you can’t hold the air in your lungs becoming tight in your throat; you let out a needy sigh, a whimper; please undress me. Please, undress me, fuck me, I’m burning up, I can’t take this, please. 

It was at the moment your mind cracked you finally perceived that although you’d tremble just at the thought of Wesker’s cock pushing hard onto your tight walls, that was not a normal reaction of your body. Not by far.

“What did you do to me- ahn.” You ask, your face flushing red, your entire body seems to be out of your control, you’re sweating and catching your breath. He laughs at your weakness. 

His hands start rubbing up your legs, your exposed thighs, grabs tight onto them - his fingers digging like he feels like hurting you today. You moan, incapable of holding your own reactions out; he smirks, raising up your skirt to your waist in a slow, precise motion. Haven’t come to your realization so far, that  you’re not wearing panties.

You can’t be angry at him. You can’t possibly concentrate on anything else but the wave of pleasure you feel at any slight move of his. Wesker pulls his hands back.

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Brushing this needy little cunt of yours against me, you’re wetting my pants, slut.” He reprehends you, standing straight, not moving a muscle now. You look up at him, your eyes shining with need and your mouth watering in, your pussy aching for the touch he denies when he takes his hands off of you.

“Please.” You beg, realizing your hips are pushing against the hardened shape in the bulge of his social pants, staining it with your slick; he barely moves against you, his eyes locked onto your exposed throbbing cunt. 

“You don’t deserve it.” He growls, before his hand palms your navel and starts brushing up your skin to your stomach. Wesker raises the hem of your shirt up enough so he exposes your breasts now and takes a handful of one; without a warning, his grip tightens and you feel your drugged sensitive body squirm in pain, projecting upwards, and your cunt throbs once again as you babble incoherently. “Is my little bunny in heat now?” He whispers against your ear as he bends down to you. 

Thinking you can’t endure another second of this torture, your own hand trails down a path down your belly, and your fingers spread your folds - your middle finger parting them, rubbing at your own knob trying to give yourself some sort of release. He notices what you’re doing by the mewl you let out.

“Disgusting shameless slut…”

His hand grabs yours, stopping you from that momentary relieving pleasure. You whine once again, the heat you feel almost making you come to that very slight touch of his hand against your clit when he holds you. 

“I’m begging.” You pathetically whimper with teary eyes, aching for some more of his touch and as you do, you feel through his pants a throbbing spasm of his stiff cock. His hips push against you willingly this time in a lustful motion and he grunts, expliciting his arousal for seeing you cry. Psychopathic monster. You love that about him. “Wesker, please fuck me. i don’t need anything else just, I- oh-” 

“Shh.” He whispers, and his hand reaches up covering your mouth by grabbing on your cheeks, sushing you, and pushing you sitting up once again. As he does pull back from you, he sits back at the chair you were sitting before, and manspreads; the abrupt motion makes you fall on your knees in between his legs, and he leaves your face. “Earn it.”

You didn’t need a second to start desperately unbuckling his belt, unzipping his pants and setting free his long, throbbing length; it swings up and slaps against his navel, craving for you as you take it all in your small hands and start pumping it. 

Wesker’s obscure crimson eyes watch over you as you struggle to fit his shaft in your mouth, a sloppy mess of saliva decorating the corners of your lips - soon enough, you find your way through. You moan against his skin with your mouth full, in slow, delicious movements like you’re having dinner.

He drops his head back, low and deep pleasure moans coming out of his mouth in a hum, almost like he refuses to give you intense reactions; he slaps you in the face, one, two, three times till you’re a mess with strands of your hair glued to your face.

“Oh- that’s right… Swallow me, fuck- stop, hmm- stop.” He groans, before grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you back with contained brutality. “Open up.” He orders, and you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out to him; he gathers some saliva in his mouth and spits it against your tongue, to which you willingly swallow. “Whose slut are you?”

“Yours.” You answer quickly enough, and he smirks, straightening up and tapping his lap. 

“Show me then.” He commands, and you finally and desperately hop on his lap, both thighs around him, your hands looking for support around his shoulders which he quickly refuses by grabbing them both together by the wrists on your back. 

With a move of your own hips and without any kind of tactile support, you guide your entrance onto his cock, your head flying back as you feel the warmth of his tip brushing against your dripping wet folds now; you rub yourself against him a couple times and your legs tremble to the shock of pleasure that quickly ran through your lower belly. Without any patience or restraint left in yourself now, you slide down his hard shaft deep inside your walls until your back meets his thighs. 

Your hips start rolling forward against him, his cock stretching your tight walls, a sound echoing through the dining room each time your skin meets his; he pants, squeezing his jaw and tightening his grasp on your wrists.

“Good fucking bitch- ah- so tight-” He groans, one of his hands grabbing painfully onto your waist and guiding you harder each second, his mouth quickly taking over one of your breasts that swing freely in front of him. 

You swear you’re losing your own conscience when your movements are hard enough for you to feel his tip hitting hard against your womb, a painful but pleasure soft spot for you; he thrusts against you again, again, and again, your mind goes blank and you let out a painful lustful moan as you bury his cock deep within yourself once more - hitting your edge, that point where you start feeling your insides twitching and your clit quivering in your deep orgasm.

“God- fuck!” You feel your legs weaken from both the pleasure and your effort, and Wesker uses his hips to lift you up only enough so he can pump his cock inside you a few more times, his face flushed red in effort, the veins in his temples showing up as he twitches his stomach muscles and feel his body contracting once he finally and deliciously releases his hot cum inside you, in spaced spurts of his cock.

He lets go of your hands as you collapse over him with your body exhausted and a bit dizzy, possibly by a residual effect of the drug he gave to you. You close your eyes for a moment, nearly fainting against his chest; 

Wesker holds you firmly, and slowly pulls out from you, fixing you over his lap trying to keep you steady and you give a little mumble in return, your forehead still a bit sweaty from all the effort and the drug withdrawing from your body, slowly,

“You need to rest, don’t you, bunny?” He asks, standing up and fixing his pants in place as he carries you like a bride around his mansion hallways, his hand slowly rubbing your shoulder in hopes you’ll relax and not experience terrible collateral effects now that the drug one is going away for good. “Let’s see how your body reacts… We need to get you prepared for the experimentation, don’t we?” He asks with a clever smile on his lips.

You can’t catch up with his talking, nor hear what he still has to say to you lastly for your body’s too weak and you’re almost fainting. 

He carefully lays you on his own bed and covers your body, fixing the pillow cozily under your head. He observes you for a couple moments, proudly; 

“You’ll be my best creation…” He mutters, caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers. “Rest well, bunny.”

[seriowan]

beach bum love (tech x surfer gn!reader)

summary: the one where tech won't stop worrying about his cyare while they're out on the water

pairing: tech x gn!reader (no mention of pronouns)

warnings: spoilers for tbb s2ep13; a few steamy kisses and a suggestive comment but nothing too crazy in this one; tech is just a big ol' worry-wart and reader is a surfer (surfing is also called waveboarding in this because it felt more fitting for the whole space-vibe)

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this is my contribution to those who were impacted by episode 13 for reasons. ♡ while i do love phee, i also love tech and in my mind, he'll always be tech fans' nerdy lil' boyfriend 🤍 i'm also checking out for the night — it's three in the morning and i have to be up in four hours 😙🫶🏼 enjoy!

♡ masterlist ♡

Every morning was the same. The same steps; same routine; same everything.

   Wake. Get ready. Eat fruit. Drink caf. Grab your board. Head to the shore. 

   Even after Lower Pabu had been wiped out by the tsunami, you found it best to slip away before the sun could rise over the horizon. With reconstruction taking place during the day and tired folks sleeping away at night, it was a sad but relieving experience to be able to stand on a bare beach, illuminated by nothing but the moon and the stars. 

   It was particularly quiet on this specific morning. The birds had yet to sing their tune within the trees and the moon-yos weren’t awake yet to watch you from the shore. The murmur of city chatter was virtually silent as Pabu’s residents slept in their beds. All that was left was you and the crash of waves. Crickets chirped from the jungle brush and way off in the distance was the faint impression of boats as fishermen left their ports to begin their day of gathering. 

   Taking advantage of the silence, you set your board down and took a seat beside it. You shut your eyes and exhaled through your nose, connecting with the silence… the ocean… the distant seagull that cried above your head. Every breeze was cold, teasing the freezing waters that you were about to dive into. In your moment of solitude, you accepted the start of a new day; a fresh breath taken as you thanked the universe for another chance to feel sand between your toes and the moon’s light on your face. 

   When the time came to swim, you stripped out of your clothes and remained in your swimwear, shivering at the cold winds. You tied the leg rope around your ankle and stood, hauling your board underneath your arm. 

   You stepped into the ocean little by little. First, a testing touch with the tips of your toes, just to feel the temperature. As expected, the waters had yet to become warmed by the sun so they were cold; cold enough for you to withdraw your leg with a sharp breath. 

   “Kriff,” you muttered to yourself, scratching your head in uncertainty. “Sure is colder than usual right now.”

   After giving yourself a moment, you inhaled deeply and forced yourself to step in a bit deeper than before, the water rising all the way up to your mid-shin. It was cold and it was not fun, but it was something that you knew you needed to overcome if you wanted to catch the best waves. 

   So, with another deep breath, you muttered a little curse under your breath and began striding deeper into the ocean. It inched up your body, igniting your skin with goosebumps as ice-cold waves crashed against your skin. You felt the sand shift between your toes, shells poking your heels every so often. It wasn’t until you were waist-deep that the water felt slightly more bearable than before, but you still had more to go before it could become unnoticeable. It pulled you to and fro with its strong tugs, sparking an eagerness in you when you noticed how perfect the waves were.

    You positioned your board so that the nose was pointed towards the waves and with your hands on the rails of the board, you pushed yourself up, swinging your legs over it until you were lying flat on your stomach. The temperature of the water hit you harder than ever, causing you to grind your teeth. With a sharp exhale, you started paddling, your arms cutting through the water smoothly as you made your way out to open waters.

   As you paddled out, you scanned the horizon, searching for any sign of incoming waves. You could feel the salty water splashing against your face, the moon illuminating the little droplets until they glistened like crystals in the air. Finally, you reached the perfect spot where you could wait for the right wave, attentive eyes watching the horizon as they came.

   In your moment of waiting, you turned to look at the island. Lower Pabu’s ruins had skeletons of reconstructive frameworks all over the area, turning the once-busy part of town into a desolate wasteland. It would have been eerie had you not grown up on those streets, making it rather sad than frightening. Part of the reason that you shied away to surf in the morning was due to the fact that you were rebuilding your own ruined home with the thanks of your boyfriend and his brothers. 

   A gentle rock caused you to turn, eyes darting out towards the horizon. Excitement bubbled inside you as you anticipated catching your first wave of the day.

   It didn’t take long before a set of waves appeared in the distance. You paddled hard, positioning yourself perfectly to catch the second wave in the set. You felt the wave lift you up and push you forward. With a quick push upwards, muscles burning from the effort, you stood up atop the board and rode the wave with ease, feeling the wind in your hair and the spray of the water on your face.

   It was a short ride but that was to be expected. You were simply testing out the waves - easing your limbs as they adjusted to the water and the waves. 

   Paddling back out into the depths, you took a moment to just lay on the board, chin against your forearms as you swayed forward and back with each gentle wave. The sky began to go from a dark navy to a baby blue, orange lining the horizon as the sun rose bit by bit. The winds grew warmer while you watched the clouds take shape, stars slowly fading until they were hardly visible. The birds began to sing from the island and the moon-yos hoots were loud enough to hear from your spot in the ocean, causing you to smile the moment you saw a flash of green sitting on the sand. 

   And it seemed that the island wasn’t the only thing to wake at the first sign of light. 

   His figure was a blur but visible nonetheless. Tech sat on the shore in his casual attire — the only difference seemed to be the towel resting on his shoulders and the spare bag now sitting by his foot. He sat on a small blanket, lifting his hand above his head in greeting. You greeted him back just before the sound of roaring waters caused you to turn, eyes widening at the massive wave that was barrelling your way. 

   Again, as the wave rolled against you, you pushed yourself up to your feet and focused hard, maintaining your balance as the wave swept you up and quickly sent you rushing towards the shore. Its giant arch rose over your head, creating a tube that you flawlessly traversed through. You crouched down to gain better stability, fingertips skimming through the water as you continued your path through the beautiful turquoise barrel. With the ease of a professional, you exited the tube at the right moment, allowing the wave to crash and join the ocean while you approached the shore. 

   You jumped off before you could hit the sand, diving under the water only to resurface soon after. Cold droplets dripped from your lashes, streaming down your face from your hair as you hauled your board under your arm and stepped out onto the sand. Muscles burning from the effort, you wobbled gracelessly atop the sand, grinning at your goggle-eyed boyfriend as he peered up at you with the smallest smile on his lips. 

   “Good morning, love,” you cheesed, dropping your board beside him before bending down to give him a kiss. He obliged, only to scrunch his nose at the cold water that dripped on his face. He pulled away quickly, backtracking so that he wouldn’t get wet. 

   “You’re drenched,” he noted, frowning, “And freezing. Need I remind you that you can catch hypothermia if you are not- 

   “-careful of how long I spend in the water,” you finished, flopping down on the blanket beside him. He grimaced at the water that splashed against his bare arms. “I know. I’m careful, see?” You gestured toward the ocean. “I didn’t even go on the big waves just for you.” 

   “I appreciate that you are taking care of yourself for my sake,” he murmured, tugging the towel off of his shoulder to throw around your own. You smiled and leaned against his side, chuckling when he grunted at the water that dripped from your soaking skin. “However, I am not quite fond of you coming out here by yourself. I would feel much more at ease if I knew that you had someone here to watch you.” 

   “For?” 

   Tech pushed up his goggles, pulling out his datapad to quickly type on it. “Drowning accounts for sixty percent of waveboarding deaths, and it can result from a head injury or a malfunction with your leg rope-” 

   “Tech,” you said softly, causing him to look at you with the subtlest trace of worry in his eyes. With a gentle hand, you cupped the side of his face, cracking a smile when he tensed at your cold fingers. “I love that you care and I love that you worry, but I’ve been doing this since I was a little kid. It’s fine — I know what I’m doing.” 

   His brows furrowed just slightly but, after a moment of hesitation, he nodded and looked down at his datapad as if the thing was useless. When he put it down at his side, you noticed the off-put movement of his body language. It was almost as if he was dismayed by the fact that you didn’t want anyone to watch you waveboard. 

   Then, as if a lightbulb clicked, it all suddenly made sense. 

   Brushing a droplet of water off of his face, you leaned over and kissed his cheek, smiling when he glanced at you in surprise. 

   “However,” you sang, climbing over his legs to sit on his lap. “I wouldn’t be opposed to having you join me. Just so that I’m not out here alone. Having to get down here at night is actually kind of unsafe now that I think about it and if you want you can-” 

   “Yes,” Tech agreed with a firm nod, setting his hands on your hips. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that you were drenched anymore. His heavy brown eyes held onto yours with enough adoration to make you melt against his touch, your hands sliding up his chest and over his shoulders. “I would like to join you. Perhaps I can keep track of your personal records and best performances. A-And possibly take a few pictures and videos of you while you are on the water.” 

   “For archival purposes, right?” You teased, leaning forward to steal a kiss. “Definitely not for your own personal enjoyment.”

   “Of course,” he muttered as he kissed your chin, neck, and continued farther down your wet chest. “Archival purposes only.” 

   “Mhm,” you hummed, eyes shutting at the feeling of his heated lips against your sternum. “Why does it sound like you have a secret motive?” 

   “Because I do,” he shamelessly murmured against your skin, lifting his head to kiss your chin once more. “I just wish to have a digital memory of you in the instance that I must leave the island. Then I can have a piece of you wherever I may go in this galaxy.” 

   “Oh, Tech,” you muttered softly, cupping the sides of his face. He shut his eyes when you skimmed your fingers through his hair, nails raking across his scalp in a soothing gesture. You kissed his forehead, the bridge of his nose, and then settled on his lips, moving them in a slow tempo before you muttered against his mouth, “What will I ever do with you?” 

   “I have a few recommendations,” he said in a low, suggestive tone, causing you to rock your head back in a laugh. 

   “Wow. Way to dial it up, you romantic.” 

   “I was simply following your cues-” 

   Again, you laughed and smashed your lips against his, grinning into the kiss. His hands slid to your back, pressing you against his chest as your lips danced, the faintest moan slipping from him when you scraped your nails down his back. 

   “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of that brain of yours,” you teased when you pulled away, leaning back to playfully bite and tug on his bottom lip. 

   The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile as he shrugged. “I assume that is a good thing.” 

   “Oh, it’s a very good thing,” you assured as you rolled off of his lap. Standing up, you brushed your hand over your head, tossing a few droplets of water on Tech. He narrowed his eyes at your antics, causing you to giggle and lean down, kissing him before he could complain. “Means my love for you will never run out.” 

   “I suppose that is a good thing,” he mumbled, causing you to stamp a few quick pecks against his lips.

After a series of quick kisses and his playful nudge against your thigh, you picked your board back up and started walking towards the water. With a turn, you waved your hand above your head and shouted, “You said you wanted some pictures, right? Well get that datapad of yours out, baby, ‘cause I’m gonna give you a show!” 

   “Be careful!” He called after you, his expression twisted in both amusement and worry. “Be mindful of the temperature — and if the wave is too severe then please do not attempt to ride it! You do remember the last incident-” 

   You stopped before you could enter the water, swiveling around with a hand on your hip and a frown on your face. “Hey! You promised you wouldn’t bring that up!” 

   “You almost drowned!” 

   “But I didn’t! I’m still here aren’t I?” Tech’s unamused expression was enough to make you sigh, rolling your eyes. “Alright, alright. You worry too much.” 

  “I worry enough.” 

   “You’re worse than my mother-” 

   “At least your mother and I share the same concern for your well-being-” 

   You walked backward in the water as you called out, “Alright! Just tell me you love me already!” 

   “Just- agh, fine!” He shook his head before cupping his mouth. “I adore you! Stay safe!”  

   “And I adore you! Get ready for pictures - and make sure you get my good angles!” 

   Tech just shook his head, a small smile hiding behind his datapad as he snapped picture after picture of you riding wave after wave. While you grinned and cheered, doing moves that made his blood pressure soar, Tech was just pleased that he could now start his day with his beloved. In his mind, there was nothing more enjoyable than beginning a new day with your smile and energy, even if it had a tendency to make him worry. 

   In the end, your habit to seek adrenaline and his tendency to be by your side and care for you was something he quite enjoyed; something that he wouldn’t change for the world. 

   “Tech! Watch this!” 

   “Cyare, you're going to hurt yourself-!”

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[cowboyfromh3ll]

Hi there! I’m a big fan. I saw your request for something besides Arthur. Not sure if this qualifies, but it’s an idea I had.

What if reader is fairly new to the gang, or new barmaid in town, and both Charles and Arthur are interested in them. They both have this ongoing competition to try to win reader’s affections. Reader, of course, is oblivious. Up to you who wins.

This is an idea I had noodling around, but not sure if/when I’d write it. I’m curious to see your spin. If you’re not feeling it, that’s ok, I totally understand

Genius Of Love

(Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader x Charles Smith)

I had fun writing reader as a contemptuous woman. She’s so silly. Also I made it so there’s no winner, you can decide that for yourself based on what they say. Ambiguity is fun. 

Warnings: uhh mentions of stabbings, drinking ig

You began your first day as a barmaid in anticipatory apprehensiveness. Your anxiety-laden first day, following your release from jail, provided you with a small sense of stability and normalcy. You were given minimal training, the job feeling more like a test of logic and wit to gauge your competence. While sitting in your holding cell, you’d imagine the first thing you would do once you got out was to have some sort of nasty fun, but your more adult-like sense insisted you try and start your life again. So instead of walking into the saloon with intentions of a weekend long bender, you found yourself acquiring a job instead of a hangover. 

Within the first hour of your job, a man had gotten blackout drunk and put his hand on your ass shortly before vomiting next to his stool. You found the thud of his body crashing into the mud outside the saloon steps to be satisfactory, having to heave his unconscious body outside was not very fun on the other hand. Many of the men made a show of watching your ass as you walked past, leaning back on their seats for far too long before they came crashing down as well. The entire day was made up of small tests for your patience, seeing just how rehabilitory jail had been for you after you stabbed a man superficially for brushing up against you lasciviously.  You knew you were on thin ice after the incident, so so much as slapping a man could probably land you back in the slammer. Though, after remerging yourself into this god-awfully virile town, part of you wished the wound had been fatal. 

You found it to sometimes be a relief to act outwardly vicious, to confirm that you were deeply flawed and not at all lady like so many others expected you to be. People were often startled by the contentious inflection in your voice; because you’re pretty they assume you’ll be docile and submissive. It was odd to men that it appeared as though you were one of them, just as it would’ve startled them to find out you fight like one of them too. Occasionally in your teen years, some boys from the road you lived on would pick on you and subsequently get pulverized by you, their sense of consternation leaving you deeply gratified. With their staggering stature over you and their forming muscles and wide set shoulders it was easy to imagine them overpowering you in a fight, but you had a face that denied violence. 

With the passing hours of the day, the faces of various men seemed to blur into one blob of amalgamation. They were nearly indistinguishable, all possessing the same incipient beards and tired, wrinkled faces. Looking down at your glasses and pouring drinks helped you temporarily evade the vulgar angles at which their stubbled jaws would protrude as they dished out their best attempts at flirting with you, the moist smacks of tongue as they masticated whatever food you served up to them. You shuddered whenever you watched another carbon copy of your previous patron walk into the saloon, adopting the same flirtatious saunter and libidinous attitude. Though the only things you could focus on as they spoke was the thought of their tongues leaving a bitter film of saliva upon your skin that made you want to gag. 

You soon found yourself serving a pair of men who were passing through the bar for a quick drink. It was a pleasant surprise to not see a men in there who didn’t look like decrepit souls who just crawled out of a mine. You thought to yourself how they would perhaps be the most entertaining thing about your day, brandishing a satisfied smirk as you greeted them. 

“How may I help you today, boys.” You placed your palms on the counter and leaned slightly, studying their features. They certainly didn’t possess the same wide, flapping jaws of the men who yammered away about how much they could pleasure you. They had a modest, humble air to them that you liked. Not to mention their faces were absolute eye candy, their voices as smooth as the whisky you had poured so many times that way. 

“We’ll have some of your best whisky.” One said, stroking his stubble as he looked at you. The other one said nothing but nodded. 

“Right away, men.” You turned your back, letting loose a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Unbeknownst to you, the two men behind you were looking at each other as if they were sizing one another up. There was a playfulness to the way they glared at each other, as if they were challenging each other to some sort of competition. 

You turned back to face them, serving them their shots. 

“Anything else?” You half hoped one of them would say “yes, you” but it was wishful thinking. You nearly snorted to yourself. 

“Yes actually, another shot.” The other man said. His blue eyed companion looked at him speculatively while you poured. You were about to slide it to him until he raised his hand up, shaking his head. You offered a confused and slightly irritated look. 

“For you, I insist.” 

In unison, you and his companion laughed; his partner in disbelief and you from shock, contented that something interesting was happening. 

“Ohhh I don’t know. I’m not really allowed to drink on the job…” you laughed ineptly; though in reality you had contemplated downing the entire bottle before smashing it over someone’s head the entire day. You looked around at the room of inebriated men, a feeling of pegunance overcoming you like a cresting wave. 

“Oh, who the hell cares.” You concluded before throwing the shot back, hissing at the sting. The two of you laughed together, and you briefly thanked him for the shot. His friend looked on in contempt as he threw his own shot back, narrowing his eyes once again. 

“I’m Charles by the way,” He began, before looking slyly to his right. “And that’s Arthur.”

As if on cue, Arthur slammed a couple of bills on the table while glaring at Charles, turning to face you with a gracious smile. 

“A cognac for the lady.” He said smoothly. You smiled, turning around once again to retrieve the bottle of brandy. You certainly took no issue with men when they bought you drinks, especially when they were easy to abandon afterwards. But something about these two made you hope they’d stick around a little longer.

You poured yourself a generous cup of cognac as the man watched, downing the drink like your life depended on it. 

“You sure can handle your liquor.” Arthur commented, impressed by your ability. You giggled once again, nodding in agreement. 

“Certainly can. It’s a virtue if I’m gonna be working in a place like this.” You joked, cleaning the empty glasses up. The two of them were amused by your candor, exchanging competitive looks once again. 

“So what are you two doing in a town like this?” You asked, wiping a glass down. “Certainly don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“We’re just passing through. We could ask you the same thing. What’s a pretty young thing like you doing working here?” Charles asked, making you wave your hand at him and giggle. 

“I just got out of jail yesterday.” The true test would see how they reacted to the revelation; whether they were scared off or drawn in, you’d be relieved either way. But contrary to what you thought they’d believe, they looked curious. 

“What for?” Arthur asked. 

“Stabbed a man for trying to touch me. Real shallow but enough to inflict some good damage.” You spoke of the instance casually, glancing at them to see their reactions. They appeared faintly impressed, perhaps one could say they were even more intrigued by you at this point. 

“Some men can be complete idiots when handling themselves around a fine young woman.” Arthur commented, to which you narrowed your eyes at him playfully. 

“Mhmmm, I’m certainly not opposed to the act even after jail though.” Your catty remark had just enough bite that it made Arthur want more. And it unknowingly drew Charles in even more as well. 

“Well I certainly don’t hope I end up like that fool, I know a thing or two about handling myself around such a fine woman as yourself.” You audibly groaned at Arthur’s insertion of his foretold skills with the ladies, but you weren’t opposed to finding out just how skilled he was.

“So what are you doing after work?” Charles asked suddenly, surprising you. Even you didn’t know the answer. 

“Oh uhm, I’m not sure yet…” You trailed off, becoming a bit nervous. Not out of fear, but by the possibility that one of these two men could accompany you somewhere. 

“Hopefully somewhere that isn’t a bar, I’m sure you’re already tired of these. I know some spots.” Charles' face blossomed into a smirk as he sipped the drink you had poured for him, catching you off guard once again and causing you to blush lightly. 

“I actually know a few places where you can watch a show. In Saint Denis of course.” Arthur butted in. Your face lit up at the mention of the city. 

“Oh goodness Saint Denis?! I’ve wanted to go there for so long!” You gasped, feeling genuine excitement at the possibility of going. 

The two men continued back and forth, attempting to one up each other by using various different tactics. You were so good at being alone and feeling a deep seated antipathy for men, until you remembered how much fun it was to get attention from them, finding their desperate attempts to be flattering. And then you discovered a new found ache.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Genius Of Love - Talking Heads/Tom Tom Club

[witchofthescions]

The Midnight Man: The muse performs a ritual and now something is in their house. Avoid it at all costs. Ritual ends after six days.

Something I've Had Burning a Hole in My Pocket for a While

Ernastral was a big fan of reading. Growing up, once she'd unlocked the secrets of the written word, she'd read anything and everything she could get her hands on. Labels, letters, signs, actual books, it didn't matter. If it had words on it, she'd read them.

So it should come as no surprise that she was quite fond of perusing the Thaumaturges' Guild library. There was so much to read about! She could pull a random tome off the shelf and discover something new about Ul'dah's history, or about the Twelve Gods of Eorzea, or even something about ancient farming techniques in Thanalan.

Today, she was reading a book on various types of so-called "summoning rituals." She didn't expect any of them to actually work, of course, but some of them sounded like they'd look really cool. And if it turned out the one she was planning on messing with actually did work, she'd invited her fellow Warriors of Light over to supervise.

Cress and Gohnoh'a sat on her bed, the latter's tail softly thumping against it in boredom. Cress looked amused as he watched Erna draw the chalk circle on her floor. Lenar sat in the chair at her desk, half reading a book printed in Ishgardian braille. He was, naturally, a bit concerned about this whole affair.

"Are you really sure it's a good idea to test out a summoning ritual of all things?" he asked for the millionth time this afternoon.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine!" she replied, waving a hand dismissively. "Listen, it's not like any of the summoning rituals we've ever seen, and if I'm right, there's like a million different things wrong with it anyway. So there's no way it'll actually do anything even if I channel something through it."

She paused, sitting back to observe the ritual circle. She glanced between the diagram in the book and the sigils on the floor, pursed her lips, and decided to tweak one slightly. Yeah, that looks much better.

"But there's always a chance that it will," Gohnoh'a observed. "Also, why did you change that sigil?"

Erna glanced up and shrugged. "I thought it'd look nicer. It still ain't gonna do nothin', though."

Gohnoh'a raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Well, far be it from me to question the master mage."

Erna sat back and placed her hands on her hips with a huff. "Listen, you think I didn't cross reference alla these spells with actual known summoning rituals? 'Cause that's the first thing I did!"

"Did it take you the whole day?"

She paused. She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "...Maybe."

Gohnoh'a rolled his eyes. "Well at least you're thorough."

"It'll be fine, trust me!" And she went back to her ritual circle, finishing it off with a couple more sigils.

"What's the next step?" Cress asked, glancing towards the open book.

Erna leaned over to double check. "It says... set up candles at each of the designated spots. Can you hand 'em over?"

Cress nodded and leaned across the bed towards the bookshelf, conveniently causing him to come into contact with Gohnoh'a. Who, naturally, turned bright red and pretended to be extremely put out by this flagrant violation of his personal space. By refusing to move at all.

Erna raised an eyebrow at Cress's antics, giving him an amused look as he handed her the candles. Cress just gave her an innocent grin back. She stifled a laugh and shook her head before turning back to her ritual circle and setting up the candles. Cress sat back on the bed, brushing up against Gohnoh'a again. To his surprise, Gohnoh'a responded by draping his tail around his waist. He glanced at the miqo'te and gave him a smug little grin that he steadfastly ignored.

Meanwhile, Erna finished the circle and flipped through the book to the next phase of the ritual. "Alright, looks like there's some chantin' involved."

"Oh this should be good," Lenar remarked.

Erna cleared her throat and started up the chant in an appropriately spooky voice. It was a fairly standard rhyming spell, easy enough to remember even if you're not reading it straight from the tome.

What she expected to happen was a whole lot of nothing. And for a moment, that's exactly what she got. And then she felt a prickling at the back of her mind, a feeling she didn't recognize at first.

When she felt the tug of her magic, however, it hit her all at once what was going on.

It was like she'd opened a portal straight into the Void. Like a tear in reality, the "voidgate" spat out what looked like something straight out of that dimension of darkness. Patches of black scales covered parts of the being's limbs, its body swathed in what looked for all the world like a tattered black cloak. A large, scaly black tail swished through the air, nearly slapping Cress and Gohnoh'a as they scrambled further onto the bed. Something that looked like red crystal poked out of the figure's exposed shoulder, the arm a mix of black scales and reddened skin, ending in a black clawed hand. A pair of horns poked out from under the hood, jutting forward and bending downwards (not unlike some Au Ra Erna had seen, come to think of it). Red glowing eyes darted around the room, taking everything in with a measure of... confusion?

Erna reflexively let out a scream, stumbling back. Lenar leapt from his seat, Sapphire orienting towards the intruder. With lightning-quick reflexes, he took up the book he'd been reading from and threw it at the stranger's head. It connected and, with a grunt, they slumped to the floor. And whatever enchantment had been on the figure disappeared, leaving a rather normal looking, if momentarily stunned, Au Ra man lying on the floor.

Oops, Myste whispered at the back of Erna's mind. Cress held up a hand and caught the thrown book as it made its way back down.

Erna got to her feet and leaned over the stunned man to check on him. "Crap... are you alright?"

He blinked up at the ceiling a few times, reaching up a hand and rubbing where the tome connected with his skull. "Anyone get the driver of the chocobo carriage that ran me over?"

Erna and Cress both burst out laughing while Lenar's face turned red in embarrassment. Erna helped the hapless Au Ra to his feet.

"I am so sorry," Lenar apologized. "I mistook you for a voidsent and reacted without thinking. Do you require healing?"

Gohnoh’a stifled a laugh, shooting the newcomer a very pointedly knowing look. The man either didn’t notice or deliberately ignored him. He gave Lenar a sheepish grin, tail twitching nervously.

"I am alright, thank you. My name is Muunokhoi, by the by."

"Ah, and I am Lenar. A thousand apologies for the rather... rough introduction."

"'Tis alright, this is not the first time someone's hurled a book at my face."

Lenar's eyebrows shot up. "Pardon?"

"Let us just say things became a little hectic at the Great Gubal Library..."

"Ah," Lenar said as Erna broke into wheezy laughter.

"You know, considering how many books were already flying," Cress said, hopping to his feet and slipping around the two tall people to get to Lenar, "it's a wonder you didn't end up beaning anyone the last time we were there."

"Well, to be fair, I wasn't in the habit of throwing books at the time."

"Aside from all the times you did." Cress handed over the tome, which Lenar tucked under his arm for safekeeping.

"Only when it was the only way to get your attention."

"Name's Ernastral, by the way," Erna introduced herself to Muun. "Erna for short. That over there's Cress," she jabbed a thumb towards the viera, who nodded, "and the sullen Miqo'te over there is Gohnoh'a."

"Charmed," Gohnoh'a said, watching these proceedings with his chin in his hands.

"It is nice to meet you all," Muun said, offering them all a friendly smile in return. "Now, ah, this might be a strange question, but... where exactly am I?"

[ifideliadaworld-blog]

Dragon Hunters: GLACIER OF MADNESS

(PART 1)

Main characters & setting by: © Arthur Qwak, Valérie Hadida, Guillaume Ivernel © Futurikon Screenplay and artwork: Fideliada

Part1--Part2--Part3--Part4--Part5--Part6--Part7--Part8--Part9(end)

(The sound of a raging night rainstorm)

(The creak of an art brush, barely audible over the rustle of water in the leaves.)

(Gwizdo) I've got the whole house on fire… Does anyone care about my immunity here?! By the way, no one has yet concocted a cold vaccine!

(Gwizdo) I wish my book lessons would be useful to her: for sure, she should read it from the bridge!

(Pitiful creaking of the front door, which has somehow obeyed)

(Lian-Chu) Zoria was in such a hurry that she didn't even take her favorite scarf… (Gwizdo's voice from the doorway) That's it, I've finished the sign that says "Young and beautiful unmarried dragon hunters are strictly required to enter"... the paint is moisture-resistant! I hope you'll let me sleep now?!

(Gwizdo's soft footsteps go up the stairs, barefooted.)

(Jeanneline) This is terrible! What kept her from sitting with us a little longer? (Gwizdo's voice from the second floor) Your fantasies about your step-grandkids: you know, a dragon-slaying young lady who isn't vaccinated against cholera can easily go crazy, even in a loving family. (Jeanneline) Even though my little Zoe is adopted, you can't fool a mother's heart, we won't be waiting for her like this!

(Muddy puddles squelch underfoot)

(Lian-Chu) Jeanneline is right: we can't go with the flow, we have to act!

(The grumble of a morning thunderstorm)

(Hector overcomes drowsiness and disgust) Urrr! SQUELCH! SNORT! (The plaintive wheeze of Gwizdo) SERIOUSLY?! Buddy, you expect to find her on foot in such darkness and all alone?! Brrr, you'll get wet again!

(The sound of rain and the roar of plasma clots among the clouds)

(Lian-Chu) Do you remember any hints about where Zoria wanted to go? Did she say anything to you in your literacy class while she was quarantined? We can't let her repeat the fate of her real parents...

(Sounds of a heavy rainstorm and Hector's half-asleep efforts)

(Gwizdo) What makes you think she likes to share secrets with me? Well, yes, in the heat, she complained that she was tired of fan letters and wanted to see the polar lands. But we're done with Neglur in the North...

(Thunderclaps)

(Gwizdo) Boy, oh boy! THE SOUTH POLE! IT'S HALF A WEEK AWAY!

(It's been a little less than the promised half of the week - the one who doesn't fuss has more time!)

(Gwizdo) The stop didn't disappoint. Now we know: the junk dealer in the repair booth complains that a girl in a coat had ruined him for canvas, bath cloths and some kind of rusty pedal-operated screw. We've just flew thousands of miles from women's tears, but we already foresee new ones…

(Finally, everyone allowed the big hostess to cry her big heart out)

(Jeanneline) My brave and silly babygirl, it's ALL MY FAULT! How could I forget that your heart still hasn't healed after the pirate ship?! And now the boys have disappeared after you!

(Gwizdo) Hmm, I was lucky to have saved up something by delivering Jeanneline's concoction to the palaces. At least Noble Kayo's cholera vaccine wasn't sold out because of our hunger strike.

(Lian-Chu) The crowns are green: it looks like that valley is warming up from inside of the mount! Shall we go down?"

(Gwizdo) It's useless. I see that the warm parts of the pole don't attract our "princess Solarhead".

(Gwizdo) You know, I'd like to change the archipelago. These mountains stress me out!

(Dense multi-year snow crunches pleasantly at every step)

(Lian-Chu) Pleasant frosty air. Zoria didn't like to sunbathe, so I chose a cool time every morning when I taught her to float. Hey, judging by the paintings from that tavern at the South Pole, there are auroras, such a dancing light in the night sky... I'd like to see it!

(Gwizdo) Well, well! It's in our best interests to not test the immune system! Let this impudent girl continue to wander, warming herself and eating in her own way, until we provide her with an anti-cholera vaccine and wrap her in a carpet to deliver her back to her mom for drinking borback goulash! I won't let my plans plans to open a private school to be ruined because of someone's stupidity!

(Snowdrifts wheezing under Lian-Chu's nimble feet)

(Lian-Chu's excited cry) Great idea, Gwizdo!

(Lian-Chu) We can't stay here for long, so put your telescope away AND RUN FOR COVER!!!

(Gwizdo) Stop breaking your voice, Lian-Chu, this is an uninhabited flying iceberg! 

(Gwizdo, instantly falling into a stupor from what he saw) Well then, what is... THIS?

(Gwizdo) Trepangs in rice breading! Lactating lizards! We just should...

(Artificial blizzard rings)

(Lian-Chu) Follow me! (Gwizdo) RUN FOR YOUR LIIIIIVES!!! (Hector) Achacha-Chu!!!

(Gwizdo wheezing through the blizzard) Kha-kha!.. We need to sit down lower, otherwise we'll freeze up!.. (Lian-Chu, weakly shouting over the blizzard) I'll try it now!

(Screams of terror and the sound of bodies hitting — well, trained ones! — on the rocks of the long ice tunnel...)

(Gwizdo) WHY DIDN'T YOU TAKE THE ROPE?!!

(Three splashes on the entire cavity of the stone-ice cliff as a result of a rapid one-and-a-half-minute ride down the stone-ice hill)

(Gwizdo didn't finish speaking at the time of the dive) OH DEALLL!..

(Hysterical clapping of hands on water)

(Gwizdo, who didn't have time to spit) Chu, save me, there's warm water everywhere!!!

TO BE CONTINUED...

Part1--Part2--Part3--Part4--Part5--Part6--Part7--Part8--Part9(end)

[jcmarchi]

Check Out Final Fantasy 14: Dawntrail’s New Job, Race, And Full-Length Cinematic Trailer

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/check-out-final-fantasy-14-dawntrails-new-job-race-and-full-length-cinematic-trailer/

Check Out Final Fantasy 14: Dawntrail’s New Job, Race, And Full-Length Cinematic Trailer

Over the weekend, Square Enix revealed new information about Dawntrail, Final Fantasy XIV’s upcoming fifth expansion, during a fan event for the popular MMO. In addition to unveiling a lengthy cinematic trailer, fans got a look at one of the game’s two new jobs and its new playable race.

Meet the Pictomancer, a new class described as a “magical ranged DPS job that works in the medium of mixed aether, wielding a specialized brush to render their imaginings reality.” Basically, the Pictomancer is a painter wielding a giant magical brush that conjures spells using paint. Check it out in action in the trailer below:

[embedded content]

A new cat-like race called the Hrothgar was also revealed in the form of a female variant. The trailer below provides a glimpse of the race out in the wild.

[embedded content]

Lastly, the big video is a 5+ minute cinematic trailer showing off Dawntrail’s vibrant tropical setting, tone, and plenty of beautifully rendered action. 

[embedded content]

Last year, Square Enix announced that Final Fantasy XIV is finally coming to Xbox Series X/S this spring. During the event, the studio revealed that an open beta test of the Xbox version begins sometime in February, giving players their first taste of the game before its arrival.

Final Fantasy XIV: Dawntrail is slated to launch later this summer. For more info, check out this primer breaking down everything you need to know about the expansion.

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Hello! I'm in love with the way you write c! Ranboo like hsgsj- amazing! So I would like a request Yandare c! Ranboo and tubbo with a soft reader that is oblivious on how they act twords them but loves them unconditionaly (just fluff please maybe maybe put a Micheal seen in there as well because Micheal is the best character 😌)

I think this is the best compliment I have ever received... Thank you so much🤍🖤

I didn't know whether or not to do headcanons or a full-length fic, so I went with a shorter story if that's alright. ^^ if it's not feel free to send another request!

FYI THIS CAN BE SEEN AS PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!C!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo

It was very common for you to see something out of the corner of your eye, but when you looked, you only saw a bunch of purple particles drifting slowly towards the earth due to gravity. You just assumed there were quite a few endermen still hanging around Snowchester, or some of the goats had come down from the mountains when you saw small little horns peeking out from behind bushes.

There were a couple times a day where you accidentally and very conveniently bumped into Ranboo out in the crater of L'Manberg or Tubbo when walking around Snowchester. It honestly was funny to you that you always seemed to bump into them when you were feeling sad or lonely. Plus, after talking to them and spending time with them, your problems almost magically seemed to disappear!

Such as, there was one time when you were helping clean up the red vines around buildings and Fundy was nagging at you for being so slow or bad at doing everything. After storming away and ranting to Ranboo about it on the verge of tears, Fundy practically scrambled up to you the next day shaking and almost crying, apologizing for every single thing he's ever said or done.

Huh... Maybe he felt that bad about it to the point where he was crying?

Although Fundy never said anything mean to you again, he also stopped hanging around you completely.

When you mentioned this to Tubbo, he explained that Fundy must not have been a real friend and that he and Ranboo would always be there for you before anyone else.

Once the mansion was built, the two platonic husbands eagerly invited you to stay with them, even saying they had Foolish make a room specifically for you! At first, you quite enjoyed your home around L'manberg, but then one day you returned home to a wall of your home completely destroyed by vines, deeming it unlivable. Although a tad convenient..

Tubbo and Ranboo had heard about it through your sobs when you called them, saying you had no clue what to do anymore. They had arrived at your side in almost minutes and quickly helped you pack and move everything to the mansion.

"I thought Snowchester was like... Half a day's walk away from here..." You sniffed, rubbing your red and puffy eyes. The two men of greatly varying heights tensed up momentarily.

"We were in the area." They both blurted out at the same time before glancing at each other.

Tubbo cleared his throat first, "I was in the nether, but luckily for you, I was close to the old L'manberg portal!" He smiled softly at you as you three walked away from your old home.

"M-Me too!" Ranboo coughed awkwardly, causing Tubbo to shoot him an odd look that you decided to brush off, "Now, uh, come on! Michael needs to meet his new mother!"

You blinked in surprise at the new title but didn't question it much, assuming it was simply just a title. Unbeknownst to you, your two best friends already thought you were part of their platonic relationship, despite you never agreeing nor denying, or them even asking.

It took a few days, but the zombie piglin warmed up to you and practically saw you as another one of his parents, which made Ranboo and Tubbo extremely happy. Instead of placing you into one of the regular rooms, they had Foolish turn the basement into two heavily secured rooms a few days before your house had been destroyed, strangely enough, and even designed one perfectly to your liking!

After washing the fruits you had, you walked towards the bookshelf and pulled on the fake book that caused the shelf to swing open. You walked down the quartz stairs after shutting the hidden door, then made your way up to one of the two doors with a pink sign with 'Michael' written in yellow cursive paint. Punching in the code, the iron door slid open and you stepped in before closing it behind you.

A loud cooing grunt was heard and the sound of quiet tapping echoed through the room before a pair of arms wrapped around your leg. "Hello, Michael." You giggled softly as Michael made grabbing hands up towards the bowl of fruit. Placing it down on the table, the child eagerly ran over and began munching on the food as you brushed over the books on the shelves to find one you haven't read to Michael before. "What about... The story of Persephone?"

A disappointed grunt was your only response.

"Guess I did read that one... Hm... Oh! What about the story of Icarus?" This time his response was a happy squeak and tippy taps of his hooves against the warm quartz floors. You sat down in the rocking chair and waited until the child scrambled over and jumped into your lap.

You opened the book and began reading to him for an hour until your eyes slowly slid shut to the quiet snores of the child of your two best friends, who at this point was beginning to see you as a mother.

Quiet 'meh' sounds and 'vrrr'ing noises and a dim flash woke you up from your spot in the rocking chair. Cracking open your eyes, your arms shifted around the nether hybrid as you saw Tubbo holding a camera making happy bleating noises, while Ranboo, who was the source of the buzzing noises, took the book you had been reading from your limp hand to put it back on the shelf.

"What time is it?" You murmured softly to keep the child asleep as you rubbed the back of your stiff and sore neck.

"It's about 5:30pm. Still rather early. Tubbo walked over and gave you a gentle yet affectionate headbutt while he scooped Michael up from your lap to bring him to bed. This caused an odd whining noise to come from the enderman hybrid before he quickly walked over and rested his forehead against yours, resting it there for a few moments before pulling back, his cheeks flushed the same colours as his eyes.

You giggled softly and gave him a gentle pat on the head as he helped you up. He held onto one of your hands as Tubbo eagerly went for the other, jokingly sticking his tongue out at Ranboo who gave a noise of mock offense, causing you three to giggle softly as you left Michael's room and went upstairs.

Tubbo and Ranboo weren't big fans of you leaving the basement on your own, and you were rarely allowed to leave the mansion even with the two boys at your sides. The former president told you it was because he heard rumours of Technoblade searching around for all the members of his cabinet back when he was in charge of L'Manberg, and he just wanted to protect you.

You saw no problems with his story as it was extremely believable. Your history with Technoblade hadn't been the cleanest and he would've definitely taken one of your canon lives back during the attack on L'Manberg, had a stray black and white firework not saved you that day. It had fired off and must've swerved a way that wasn't predicted, because it hit Technoblade hard enough in the chest to knock him away from you.

You don't remember much of that day, except for Ranboo immediately running over to you and dragging you away from the destruction and chaos. Thanks to him, you were almost completely scar free and standing proudly at three canons lives.

A gentle hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality and you saw two sets of eyes staring at you with concern. "Hey... Are you feeling okay?" Ranboo asked softly, tilting your head up to place his free hand against your forehead, "See. I told you she should be getting more sunlight, Tubbo!"

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" You laughed softly at their worry, rubbing your thumbs along the back of their hands, "Just... Remembering the war with Dream and Techno..."

"What about it?" Tubbo asked, bringing you into the living room to sit down with your friends on either side of you.

You pursed your lips together for a moment as you looked at the ground, "Just how... Scary Techno is. And how he was about to kill me without a care about who or what I was."

Angered growling and seething noises came from Ranboo and Tubbo as you felt their grasps tighten around your hands, almost to a painful degree. You looked up and saw their expressions stone-cold and steely although vastly different from each other.

Ranboo's green eye was purple, and the black tone of his skin was beginning to seep into the side with the lack of colour. The corners of his mouth were slowly splitting open wider and wider as his lips parted, allowing you to see the glowing purple colour inside his mouth.

Tubbo's was less obvious. His eyes were blank but also had a bright fire, one burning for revenge, reflected in them. His ears weren't flicking and neither was his tail, his entire body stiff except for a faint sound giving away the fact that his teeth were grinding together.

As much as you tried to endure it, the grip became too harsh and you couldn't help but give a small pained gasp. This caused all physical contact with you to suddenly vanish as the two boys immediately flung themselves away from you, horror and fear in their eyes.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"

"Are you okay?! Do you need an ice pack?!"

"Or a bandage from my claws?!"

They were both kneeling on the ground in front of you with both of your hands in their grasps again. They repeatedly turned your hands in their own, testing the joints and checking for marks or bruising. "Boys, boys!" You laughed softly, placing your hands on their heads to ruffle their hair gently. You pulled your left hand adorned with two beautiful rings and held it up for them to see, flexing it and moving it around, "See? Perfectly fine. No pain whatsoever!"

While they seemed to have calmed down a lot, they still seemed to be extremely upset and guilty. "I'm still going to get an ice pack... We don't want our wife to be injured..." Tubbo murmured as he quickly got up and walked towards the kitchen.

"I will get started on dinner. And as an apology, I'm making your favourite. (F/f)." Ranboo tried to be a little more upbeat than Tubbo, but you could still see the small amounts of guilt as he turned and followed after the goat hybrid.

Sighing softly at their overreactions, you leaned back against the couch...

Before doing a double-take.

Adorned with rings?!

You quickly flung yourself forward again and looked at your left hand. On your ring finger were two diamond rings, one gold with a green gemstone, and the other silver with a black gemstone, both glistening a faint purple from enchantments...

...

When did these get put on you- wait... Did Tubbo say... wife?

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙎𝙐𝘾𝙆 & 𝘽𝙇𝙊𝙒 ☆ 𝙨𝙖𝙥𝙣𝙖𝙥 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

∘ request: 

goddamn your writing is so good 🥵 any chance you’d be able to write something with sapnap where you’re both at a party and know each other through friends but not well and you’re both a bit tipsy and he just can’t control himself and drags you into a bathroom? kinda fluffy where there’s lots of kissing but also desperate and accidentally rough (because the idea of someone wanting me so much that they lose control is a major thing of mine)

∘ pairing: sapnap x fm!reader

∘ warnings: nsfw (18+),  party scene, drinking, crude language

∘ links: ao3

∘ word count: ~2000

a/n: Thank you so much for the request! I literally have the exact same thing so i think we’re soulmates or something. I hope you enjoy!

For the duration of the day, you’d been waiting for this moment. Your hair tangling amongst itself as you danced to the music with a group of your friends was almost a baptism for you. No longer were you restricted into your business casual attire and socially acceptable behavior. Now you were free to forget your name and responsibilities as mashups of different genres of heavily bass boosted music pulsed in your ears.

The large house was swelling with people, melding together as if their lives depended on the superficial human connection the beat could bring them. Many of them you recognized from some of your lectures; it had been a day where your classmates had planned a party for someone’s birthday. You hated to admit it, but you didn’t know or care whose party it was, you were just happy to have an excuse not to study.

You’d already lost one of your rings and your clothes were sticking to your body from the layer of sweat glistening against your skin, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. As cliché as it sounded, going to random college parties had equated to your own kind of religion. These senseless addresses were homes to a different kind of worship, but one you had quickly become devoted to. The smell of another girl’s perfume rubbing off on you and the nameless identity of the boy that offered you hard liquor were your new sacraments.

As the song died out, beginning a new string of beats to thunder around the room, you found yourself out of breath. You gestured to your friends that you were refilling your drink, but really you were in search of air that was a bit fresher. You wove through the heavy crowd, ending up in the kitchen and beelining for the fridge. There was a small group of boys standing around the keg, one of them filling his cup as they discussed something a few of them were getting heated about.

You tucked a cold water bottle against your side and grabbed a clean solo cup. As you got closer, you would hear what they were talking about. “I don’t know how you don’t remember that. It was like a big thing a few years ago?” One of them grumbled as his eyes narrowed at the liquid streaming into his cup.

“Sorry, Nick. I forgot they were selling kids on eBay. I honestly don’t see-” They continued on into overlapping ramblings that you couldn’t help but laugh at. One of them, that had been referred to as Nick, looked almost too familiar to you. Yet as you stood there, you couldn’t remember even if your life depended on it.

Nick’s eyes drifted to you as if just realizing you were standing there. “Sorry, do you refill?” He asked, mustering a somewhat shy smile. You snapped out of your train of thought, handing your cup to him.

“I didn’t mean to seem like a creepy, sorry,” you stated, sending him an awkward laugh. His lips parted in a smile. His dark hair was slightly ruffled, probably just from the weather earlier in the day. You weren’t sure if it was your slight buzz or the close proximity, but God, he looked good to you.

“No, I was hogging. It was my bad,” he answered. You brushed your hair off of your warm forehead and he looked up at you from what he was doing, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “I think I know you from somewhere,” he mumbled before something clicked behind his eyes as he handed you your cup back. “Oh, you’re Clay’s friend, right? I’m his roommate, Nick.” At his words, your brain clouded with embarrassment as memories of him finally fled your brain.

You smirked slightly. “Oh! Yeah, sorry I didn’t recognize you. You look…” You paused for a second. Where were you going with this statement? Hotter? “Grown-up,” you wheezed, making him chuckle again. “- I mean, since freshman year English, I guess.”

He chewed the inside of his cheek, attempting not to grin wider. “Yeah, you look… grown-up too,” he offered, sending you a slight smirk. “It’s weird how close you and Dream are and I never see you around anymore,” he continued.

You chuckled a bit, wetting your lips. “Yeah, I told Clay I had a crush on you and he kicked me out,” you joshed, making him laugh. For as quiet as you remembered him being, you were shocked he was engaging with you in the way he was. Maybe it was just the atmosphere and the alcohol that had him loosened up. Whatever it was, you found yourself partnering with him in beer pong and spending most of the night at each other's side.

You sat closely to him on a couch in one of the several living rooms, your heads set close together as you listened to what he was saying over the music. “Hey, you too found each other,” a deep voice bounded, making you jump slightly, almost spilling your drink on Nick. Clay plopped down on the other side of you, wrapping his arm around the back of your section of couch to tug on Nick’s ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me Nick was a stud now?” you joked, slightly cringing about how bold you sounded. Nick chuckled at your words, swatting Clay’s hand away from him and taking another sip from his cup.

Clay setted further into the spot beside you. “You guys wanna play ‘suck and blow’?” He stated, more to the group of people around you guys. You furrowed your brows at him, almost wanting to roll your eyes at Clay’s blatant mission to set you and Nick up together. But who were you to avoid his attempts.

The card was passed successfully around the group, until it got to Clay, whose breath you could practically feel on the other side of the thick paper. You turned to give it to Nick but dropped it at the last second, making his lips press against yours. It was almost like he was expecting it because he was utterly calm at your action, nearing leaning in on his own accord. There were cat-calling noises made from the group as the kiss ended briefly. “Ope, looks like you guys are gonna have to leave the circle,” Clay stated with an almost sing-song tone in his voice. You were thankful that you had turned towards Clay enough that Nick couldn’t see your jokingly scornful look.

“Well, that’s just too bad. We were so good at this,” Nick chided as the two of you stood to leave. You ruffled Clay’s hair as the two of you left, following Nick into another room. “Would you want to… go somewhere quiet?” Nick asked, his eyes flashing to yours. Your eyebrow perked in his direction before you wordlessly slipped your hand into his.

You found yourself in the bathroom, Nick's hands settling on your hips as he pressed his lips against yours. You let out a sharp moan as he ground his hips against yours, yearning for more friction. Your fingers dug into his hair as his tongue slipped into your mouth, hungry for your taste. His breath was like a drug for you as he groaned into your mouth, moving against you.

His lips left your mouth but only to caress your jaw before settling against your neck, sucking on the skin with a slight sting. You tilted your head back, giving him more access to you before wrapping a leg around him, begging him to go further with you. He chuckled at your neediness, his warm breath fanning over your neck. He tugged the strap of your dress down your arm, pressing his lips against the newly exposed skin, grinding against you. The taste of cheap beer passed between the two of you.

One of his hands slipped beneath your dress to squeeze your ass, pulling you tighter against his jeans, encouraging you to ride his thigh. "I want you," he moaned unevenly in your ear, sending heat straight to your core. You wanted him to completely ruin you, to show you what was hiding beneath the surface of his reserved nice guy barrier.

You answered his words by attending to his zipper, slipping your hands into his jeans and stroking him against his boxers. A moan broke through his teeth, his lips crashing against yours as you egged him on. His erection grew stronger with each of your movements. You could tell he was becoming desperate to ravage you with each of his restrained breaths.

Your teeth dug into his bottom lip, your fingers pushing his pants to the ground as he pressed himself against you. He pushed your underwear aside, answering your silent pleas. Pressing his lips against your neck again, he drove himself into you, earning a blissed out moan from you. A breath of pleasure and relief escaped his chest at the feeling of you instantly tightening around him.

He thrusted into you, as if testing the waters as you moaned his name against his skin. One of your arms tightened around his shoulder as he held you in place, setting his pace. The mix of alcohol and pleasure you were feeling with each snap of his hips was sending your head reeling. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, fingers digging into your skin. You moaned against his lips, sending him to speed up his movements. A sense of roughness came out in him as he pounded into you harder, and you were eating it up. You fingers dug into his hair, pulling tightly to earn a groan from him.

Your hands slipped beneath his shirt, raking against his back, urging him to use you like a flashlight. "Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, voice husky with some type of forced restraint as if he wouldn't let it come out evenly. You tightened around him, moving in what little space he'd given you to grind against him.

With that, he began to thrust into you harder, as if he was finally giving into whatever he was attempting to hold back. His teeth dug into your shoulder with each pulsing movement, driving himself deeper into you. Ungodly moans left your lips, only confirming his actions as he hungrily chased his high, dragging you with him.

His paces became less rhythmic and more sloppy as he gripped onto you, your fingers digging into his skin as you felt your orgasm was just within reach. You tightened your leg around him, your head swimming as he began to hit your sweet spot repeatedly. With a nearly choked out moan of his name, your body flushed with relief, your climax ripping through you. Nick succumbed to his own as if he'd been waiting for you, the two of you leaning against each other for support as you rode out your highs.

After you caught your breath, you reapplied a layer of lipstick, eyeing Nick through the reflection of the mirror as he stood behind you, straightened his clothes. "Let's not tell Clay about this, purely because he'll make it weird," you stated, turning and evening out his hoodie strings.

He chuckled slightly. "Oh, I agree completely. Don't tell Clay." His sly smirk nearly drew you in as you pressed your lips against his again, a promise that you'd definitely be seeing each other again.

[hermannsthumb]

I have a fun prompt I've been thinking about I hope you have time for one day! When Newt and Hermann meet actually things go really really well and they even get together. It's just they bicker so much and have huge science-based arguments that everyone assumed they must have hated each other on sight.

sure thing! i had fun with this one

----

"So," Newt says. "I was talking to Tendo today."

Across the mess table, Hermann hums in feigned interest. Newt knows it's feigned 'cause Hermann doesn't stop either thing he's doing: using his left hand to wind noodles around a fork, and using his right hand to scribble away a series of lengthy equations on the back of a paper napkin. His full attention has been hopping between both for about ten minutes now—no room for Newt to slip in there. He's testing his limits enough as it. Half of the last equation ended up scratched into the tabletop, and the last time he lifted his fork to his mouth, it was empty. And then he swallowed anyway. Newt kinda loves the guy.

"Yeah," Newt says, deciding to continue like Hermann responded the way he was actually supposed to respond, which would've been something along the lines of what an utterly fascinating story, Newton, do tell me more. I love hearing you talk, Newton. How marvelously smart you are, Newton, and how melodic and breathtaking your voice is. Now watch me bite down on an empty fork again. "Kinda funny. He was asking how we met."

Hermann finally looks up at Newt suspiciously over the rims of his glasses, which are slipping slowly down his nose. He stills them with the tip of his index finger before they land in his dinner. "Why?"

"I don't know, man," Newt says. "He just was. It was like, small talk, you wouldn't get it. He dropped by the lab when you were out this morning to let me know that there was extra space if we wanted it. Like, lab space." Hermann resumes scratching an equation into the table absently. Newt rolls his eyes. "As in, we could have separate labs if we wanted now."

Hermann knits his eyebrows together. "Separate laboratories?"

When Newt and Hermann first started at the Hong Kong Shatterdome, the k-scientist team was pre-existing and significantly bigger, and anyone who joined on later—like, you know, them—basically got shoved in wherever they fit. For Newt and Hermann, that happened to be Laboratory Space D, Basement Level 1 (the only basement level), along with a former marine biologist who was killed on a research excursion a month later when a kaiju made unexpected landfall, like, right on top of their chosen shelter. Bad luck. Anyway, Newt's known about the existence of other Hong Kong Shatterdome lab spaces in the vague and absent sort of way that you would an urban legend, but (similarly so) he never thought he and Hermann would actually ever lay eyes on one. And then Tendo stopped by to dangle it in front of Newt on a stick.

"The other labs were being used as storage for ages after everyone else—" Newt searches for a word tasteful enough to encapsulate got stomped by a kaiju and wised up and decided to live out what are probably our last few days before the world ends with their families instead of alone in a military bunker. "—left. Anyway, Tendo told me they've been going through shit like crazy this month, I think to see if they can salvage any old tech, and that the other labs are basically totally emptied out now. We just have to ask and they're ours."

Hermann sets down both his pen and fork, twisting his mouth contemplatively. He finally loses the battle against gravity with his glasses, and they miss his plate by an inch, swinging back on their chain and bouncing harmlessly against his chest instead. Newt briefly wonders if getting a chain for his own glasses would save them from their frequent fatal falls into kaiju organ cavities and buckets of non-neutralized kaiju blood, but decides not even the money he'd save on replacement pairs would make a fashion faux pas like that worth it. "You know I don't much fancy the basement," Hermann says.

"Your joints," Newt agrees. The damp of the basement sets Hermann's joint pain off frequently, something Hermann talks about just as frequently. Newt's not really a fan of the basement either, though for different reasons—he would kill to get some windows and natural, non-fluorescent light in there. Sun lamps can only do so much. He's pretty sure he'd fucking glow if he stepped outside right now. Also, it's cold down here.

"And it might be nice to be closer to LOCCENT, in case of an emergency," Hermann continues. "And closer to—oh, hang on. What has this got to do with us?"

"Huh?"

"How we met," Hermann says. "You said, that Tendo asked—"

"Oh," Newt says. It's his turn to play coy. He stirs his chopsticks through his own dinner, accidentally flicking a piece of tofu to the table. It lands on top of Hermann's etched equations. Hermann scowls, because that's how their routine goes: Newt gets Hermann's stuff dirty, and Hermann gets mad. "Well. It was just that Tendo was like you can finally be out of each other's hair, how the hell did you guys get stuck together anyway when you obviously can't stand each other, that kind of stuff."

"Ah," Hermann says.

"And I said that it was because we knew each other before," Newt says, "and that we transferred here together. And that's when he asked."

"And what did you say?" Hermann says.

"That we used to correspond professionally," Newt says, "and met at a conference way back in 2017." He adds, with a grin, "Also professionally."

This was technically true. Newt and Hermann did write to each other, professionally, and they did meet at a conference, professionally, but what went down after a long and public shouting match in the events hall of a very nice hotel—in Hermann's room, five floors up in that very nice hotel—was not very professional. The events of the week that followed—spent, intermittently, between Hermann's hotel room, several coffee shops, a bench under a tree in Newt's favorite park, a rotation sushi restaurant, brushing knees shyly on the tram, and, finally, clasping hands on the staircase of Newt's apartment and gazing deeply into each other's eyes—weren't very professional, either, but Newt likes to think that they were very romantic. Rom-com level shit. Newt revealed none of this to Tendo, who referred to the 2017 conference as that Infamous Day for the rest of their conversation. "Well, it was professional," Hermann sniffs.

But he reaches across the table, and, very timidly, crosses his pinkie over top of Newt's. It's the most blatant form of PDA Hermann ever willingly engages Newt in. Newt thinks if he ever tried to touch two fingers at once in anywhere but the lab, or God forbid, hold his whole hand, Hermann's ears might start emitting steam like something out of a cartoon. "It might be nice," he says again.

Laboratory Space D, Basement Level 1, is unique—Newt knows—in that Newt and Hermann's quarters are connected to it directly. None of the other labs have that luxury (and Newt has a feeling it's because Lab Space D wasn't actually intended as a lab space). He remembers being told that when they were shoved into it. Yeah, you have the darkest and tiniest lab space on base, but your rooms are right there! When Newt wants to go to Hermann's room, or if he's in Hermann's room and needs a sweatshirt or something from his own, he just has to step the three feet between their two doors. Moving labs could throw a wrench in that—they might be asked to move quarters, too, and might be shuttled to opposite sides of the Shatterdome, and though they could just bite the bullet and request couple's quarters already, it's nice to have their own spaces when they need it. That would never work. And, well, besides—the lab, their lab, feels like home to them at this point. Newt shrugs.

"On the other hand," Hermann says, and he taps Newt's pinkie lightly, "I quite like how things are. I can live with the damp, really."

"We can get a dehumidifier," Newt offers.

Hermann nods, and he gives Newt the barest hint of a smile.

Their monthly delivery of lab supplies—whatever they can afford with their shoestring budget, which, these days, mostly means chalk, rubber gloves, and nice instant ramen—comes three weeks later. Newt wouldn't exactly call the Shatterdome delivery guy a friend, seeing as he has yet to divulge his name to Newt (and also Newt's pretty sure he has a thing for Hermann, since he always seems to wait until Hermann is in the lab to stroll by with his package trolley and always calls him Dr. Gottlieb with big stupid heart eyes, oh, Dr. Gottlieb, that new sweater looks soooo nice on you!, so anyway, that makes him Newt's rival by default), but he, at least, recognizes and acknowledges Newt at this point. That's more than Newt can say for most people on the base. After his usual greeting to the two of them (hey, Newt, oh, hellllooo, Dr. Gottlieb, did you do something new with your hair?), he starts to unload their packages, also like usual.

"I was surprised to see that you guys are still down here," he tells Newt, not like usual. "Tendo mentioned something about you getting your own labs."

"He did?" Newt says, meaning to frown, but grinning instead. It's kind of fun to be the subject of gossip. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them in the trash to help with their supplies—the dehumidifier he requested should be in there, and it's fancy and definitely on the bigger side.

"Yeah," their delivery guy continues. He hands Newt a fuckin' massive brick of a package. Hermann's stupid chalk. The amount that Hermann tears through in a month really is astounding: Newt has a private theory that Hermann is an undercover space alien from a planet where chalk constitutes all of the primary food groups, and he secretly sneaks out here and eats it in the dead of night when Newt is asleep. "Anyway, sorry I'm late," the delivery guy says, as Newt imagines Hermann crunching on a piece of chalk like a carrot stick, "I went to all the other labs first."

"No worries, dude," Newt says. "Sorry for the confusion."

He lugs the package over to Hermann's desk, and drops it down on the only spot not over-cluttered with papers and books. Hermann complains about Newt's messiness a lot for a guy who is just as bad, if not worse. "Need any now?" Newt asks Hermann.

Hermann, scribbling away at his chalkboard, grunts. Newt decides that's a no.

"Hard at work, Dr. Gottlieb?" the delivery guy says, practically fluttering his eyelashes.

Another grunt. Newt snorts.

"I thought you guys would've moved right away," the delivery guy (obviously disappointed at Hermann's lack of attention) tells Newt. "Tendo mentioned you've been stuck together for a while, ever since some sort of dramatic confrontation at a conference ten years ago." he adds eagerly, "Did you really get thrown out? I don't know how you haven't killed each other yet."

"It's taken a lot of hard work," Newt says. Yeah, the whole being-ejected-from-the-conference-and-barred-from-all-future-ones-forever thing is technically true too, but everyone there was too stuffy and serious for Newt's fun vibes anyway, so he thinks it's their loss. The most important part of the scientific breakthrough process, Newt frequently thinks, was having someone there to challenge you and push back at you. Sometimes loudly. And in public. In the conference hall of a very expensive hotel, in front of all of your scientific peers, some hotel security guards, and a poor graduate student who made the mistake of asking you and your penpal-colleague for your joint opinion on something and got caught in the crosshairs. Besides—out of everyone at that stupid conference, Newt and Hermann were the only ones snapped up by the PPDC, so it's doubly their loss. "And, yeah, we got thrown out. Me and Hermann fight a lot, but we always make up eventually. It's no big deal. It's, like, our thing."

"Make up?"

Newt waggles his eyebrows and doesn't elaborate. The making up part is the best part of arguing with Hermann, honestly, but he's not about to go giving private details about stuff like that to his rival.

By the time Hermann finally descends his ladder, three hours have passed, and Newt is frowning over an email he's just gotten from Shatterdome HR. Hermann will probably see it in a second when he checks his own email—it was sent to both of them, after all—but Newt waves him over to his desk anyway. "Look," he says.

He draws out the spare chair he keeps by his desk (for Hermann), and Hermann drops into it gratefully, propping his cane up against the arm. Then Hermann pushes his glasses up onto his nose and scans the email with a frown of his own. Newt reads it aloud for him anyway. "'Subject: Quarters Reassignment,'" he says. "Dear Drs. Geiszler and Gottlieb: It has recently come to our attention that you will be transferring to Laboratories A&B. Should you wish to transfer quarters as well, you will find the necessary paperwork..."

"By Jove," Hermann groans, and pulls his glasses off again, smudging a bit of chalk on his cheek, "can't they just leave us alone?"

Newt laughs. "I'll tell them we're not interested. Wait, listen to this bit at the end: Congratulations—this must be a relief! Guess they were getting your complaint forms after all, Hermann." Both Newt and Hermann had long-since assumed that any and all official complaint forms stamped with a k-sci lab return address are filed right into the garbage. It's never deterred Hermann from sending them in, though.

"Hmph," Hermann says.

Newt carefully rolls his shirtcuff back down to his wrist and uses it to rub off Hermann's chalk smudge. When it's gone, or at least, mostly gone, he brushes his fingers back through Hermann's short hair. Hermann's eyelids flutter shut, and as he leans into Newt's touch, his creased forehead smooths just a little. "Mm. You're lovely," he murmurs. "We really ought to tell them we're married. It's gone on long enough."

"I guess," Newt says. "But it's kind of funny, isn't it?"

[afeb]

Chris Evans - Could

Having only met Chris a few hours ago, we oddly hit it off. We realised we had the same interests and opinions, ideas and jokes. We spent most of the day talking mindlessly in the garden as everyone mulled around us, a mix of his friends and family.

Now we were in the kitchen as he grabbed another beer and I hopped onto the counter. “Kids?”

I shook my head. “You?”

“No,” he popped the cap. “Want them though.”

“Me too.” I sighed dreamily.

“How many?”

“As many as I can get.” I chuckled, however Chris didn’t.

His eyes seemed to dance with a look I hadn’t seen yet. “Who would you have them with?”

I shrugged and fiddled with the hem of my dress. “I’m not fussy, I just want children.”

“You’re young, you’ve got plenty of time.” He reassured as he stepped a little closer. “Me? My clock is ticking - fast.”

“You’re thirty-nine, hardly dead.” I scoffed.

He shrugged and stepped closer still, abdomen brushing against my bare knees. “Still though, I need kids asap.”

“Who would you have them with?” I asked.

“A nice girl.” He hummed. “Smart, funny, pretty, articulate.”

“Big boots to fill.” I noted.

“You fill them.”

Silence flowed between us as I furrowed my brows, looking into his eyes. He didn’t say another word, simply tilted his head back and took a long sip of his beer.

“Me?” He nodded. “You’d have kids...with me?”

“Would you not have them with me?” I thought over his question for a moment.

“We met four hours ago.” I stated.

“And?”

“I could be a psycho-murderer who collects cocks I’ve cut off.” He choked a little on his beer. “I don’t, but you wouldn’t know.”

I jumped a little as he parted my thighs, cool beer brushing against my skin as he stepped between them. “We’ve talked for the past four hours with no breaks, no silences, just easy conversation. We’ve told each other about family, ex’s, dreams. I may not know every inch of you, but fuck I want to.”

“How would it even work, having children together?” I warily asked as his hands splayed over my knees.

He placed the bottle down. “Well, we would...you know...”

“Obviously.”

“Then I’d take you out whenever you wanted, go wherever you wanted to,” his hands inched up my thighs. “Touch wherever you asked. Then, you’d move in, or we’d find a new place, we’d decorate and prepare for the baby. We’d fall in love.”

My breath hitched as his palms eased under the skirt of my dress, my hands softly coming to run over his biceps. “How could you be so sure we’d fall in love?”

“Because I think I’ve already started.” My eyes widened. “Not yet, but I feel it blossoming.”

“Chris...” his head moved closer to mine, breath fanning over my lips.

“Everyone’s staying tonight,” he whispered. “You stay too.”

“Is that a question or a demand?” I asked.

“Whatever you want.” He chuckled. “Stay up until everyone is in bed.”

I nodded. “Are you sure?” I couldn’t believe what I was getting myself into.

His lips pressed to mine for a matter of seconds before pulling away. “Absolutely.”

The rest of the day we danced around each other, looking at each other from across the room and softly smiling. Chris’ eyes were transfixed on my stomach sometimes and I was positive he was invisioning me swollen with his baby. I caught my brain day dreaming too, imagining a baby in his arms as he softly cooed the little one to sleep.

One by one, everyone either left or went to their designated rooms. The group around the sofa thinned until it was Chris, me and his brother, Scott.

“I’m gonna hit the hay.” Scott sighed as he stood.

“We won’t be long after.” Chris lied from the sofa, peering at me as I sat on an armchair across from him.

“Night guys.”

“Night.” Chris and I said in unison before we were left alone. We both waited for the click of Scott’s door before Chris spoke.

“Alone at last.” He hummed, shuffling a little on the sofa and spreading his thighs. “Come here, baby.”

I stood with shaky legs and nervously folded my hands, standing in front of him. I squeaked as Chris gripped the backs of my knees and tugged me into his lap, my dress rising up exposing my thighs.

My hands rested on his chest. “Are you sure?”

“Are you?” He cocked a brow.

“Yes.” I whispered, leaning down a little. “Is this mad?”

“Completely.” Chris sighed, hands rounding to pinch my behind. “But fuck, I’ve never wanted someone more.”

His lips trailed over my cheek and jaw, sucking softly on the spot below my ear as I rocked my hips against his. “Maybe we should get to know each other better,” I gasped. “Things we haven’t said.”

“What’s your favourite book?” He asked as he harshly fisted the flesh on my behind, aiding my rocking.

“Little Women,” I gasped. “What’s your favourite song?”

“Every Breath You Take,” his voice was muffled in my neck. “Favourite piece of jewellery?”

“A ring my Mum got me when I was eighteen.” I whined as he nibbled in the skin of my neck. “Favourite position?”

“Any.” He pulled back and pressed his lips to mine, quickly tracing my lips with his tongue before pushing in to meet mine.

I moaned and threaded my fingers into his hair, softly pulling. Chris groaned deeply before pushing me onto the sofa and climbing on top of me.

“Please.” I whimpered.

“Fuck,” his eyes rolled to the back of his head. “I’m gonna fuck a baby into you.”

His hands hasilty went up my skirt and looped around the band of my underwear and tugged them down. He peered at the plain white knickers.

“I didn’t think I’d be doing this.” I bashfully said.

“Anything on you drives me wild.” He threw haphazardly across the room and focussed back on me. “Gonna be quick baby, okay? I’ll show you what I can do another time.”

I pawed at his chest and peered wide-eyed up at him. “Please.”

He easily pulled himself out and stroked a few times. His tip ran up and down me a few teasing times, testing to see if I’d stop him or recoil. When I simply peered up at him and softly pouted my lips, he eased into me slowly.

His head dropped to rest on mine, eyes boring into mine as he bottomed out. A steady breath ran past his lips and washed over my face.

“Okay?” He asked.

“Yes.” I breathed.

He quickly set to work. His pace was bruising, a man on a mission as he rutted his hips into mine. His hands firstly rested either side of my head as he peered down to where we were connected before he dropped onto his forearms and enclosed around me. His hands stroked over my hair as he closely watched me.

I muled and whined at him, hands skimming over his shoulders, his hair, his cheeks and his lips. His mouth parted as my thumb slipped in. Chris softly sucked the digit as he closed his eyes momentarily and moaned. His teeth skimmed over the skin before I retracted my finger and instead tugged the hair on his head.

His hips easily glided in and out, my legs wrapped around his waist aiding his movements and his thrusts grew more and more sloppy.

“Gonna put a baby in you,” he promised. “Fuck, all day I’ve been thinking of you swollen off my cum.”

“Please, I want your baby.” I whined back.

“Take it,” his groaned as his hips stilled and he emptied into me. “Fucking take it.”

My back arched in pleasure as I screwed my eyes shut and took what he gave me. Chris collapsed on top of me, weight resting on my chest as I looped my arms around his broad shoulders and hugged him right.

“Do you think we made something?” I whispered after a moments silence.

“I hope.” He sighed back, pressing a kiss to my lips. “I think I could love you.”

I smiled. “I think I could love you too.”

[icarushasfallenfromthestars]

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!Tubbo

Hello! I'm in love with the way you write c! Ranboo like hsgsj- amazing! So I would like a request Yandare c! Ranboo and tubbo with a soft reader that is oblivious on how they act twords them but loves them unconditionaly (just fluff please maybe maybe put a Micheal seen in there as well because Micheal is the best character 😌)

I think this is the best compliment I have ever received... Thank you so much🤍🖤

I didn't know whether or not to do headcanons or a full-length fic, so I went with a shorter story if that's alright. ^^ if it's not feel free to send another request!

FYI THIS CAN BE SEEN AS PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC

-

It was very common for you to see something out of the corner of your eye, but when you looked, you only saw a bunch of purple particles drifting slowly towards the earth due to gravity. You just assumed there were quite a few endermen still hanging around Snowchester, or some of the goats had come down from the mountains when you saw small little horns peeking out from behind bushes.

There were a couple times a day where you accidentally and very conveniently bumped into Ranboo out in the crater of L'Manberg or Tubbo when walking around Snowchester. It honestly was funny to you that you always seemed to bump into them when you were feeling sad or lonely. Plus, after talking to them and spending time with them, your problems almost magically seemed to disappear!

Such as, there was one time when you were helping clean up the red vines around buildings and Fundy was nagging at you for being so slow or bad at doing everything. After storming away and ranting to Ranboo about it on the verge of tears, Fundy practically scrambled up to you the next day shaking and almost crying, apologizing for every single thing he's ever said or done.

Huh... Maybe he felt that bad about it to the point where he was crying?

Although Fundy never said anything mean to you again, he also stopped hanging around you completely.

When you mentioned this to Tubbo, he explained that Fundy must not have been a real friend and that he and Ranboo would always be there for you before anyone else.

Once the mansion was built, the two platonic husbands eagerly invited you to stay with them, even saying they had Foolish make a room specifically for you! At first, you quite enjoyed your home around L'Manberg, but then one day you returned home to a wall of your home completely destroyed by vines, deeming it unlivable. Although a tad convenient..

Tubbo and Ranboo had heard about it through your sobs when you called them, saying you had no clue what to do anymore. They had arrived at your side in almost minutes and quickly helped you pack and move everything to the mansion.

"I thought Snowchester was like... Half a day's walk away from here..." You sniffed, rubbing your red and puffy eyes. The two men of greatly varying heights tensed up momentarily.

"We were in the area." They both blurted out at the same time before glancing at each other.

Tubbo cleared his throat first, "I was in the nether, but luckily for you, I was close to the old L'Manberg portal!" He smiled softly at you as you three walked away from your old home.

"M-Me too!" Ranboo coughed awkwardly, causing Tubbo to shoot him an odd look that you decided to brush off, "Now, uh, come on! Michael needs to meet his new mother!"

You blinked in surprise at the new title but didn't question it much, assuming it was simply just a title. Unbeknownst to you, your two best friends already thought you were part of their platonic relationship, despite you never agreeing nor denying, or them even asking.

It took a few days, but the zombie piglin warmed up to you and practically saw you as another one of his parents, which made Ranboo and Tubbo extremely happy. Instead of placing you into one of the regular rooms, they had Foolish turn the basement into two heavily secured rooms a few days before your house had been destroyed, strangely enough, and even designed one perfectly to your liking!

After washing the fruits you had, you walked towards the bookshelf and pulled on the fake book that caused the shelf to swing open. You walked down the quartz stairs after shutting the hidden door, then made your way up to one of the two doors with a pink sign with 'Michael' written in yellow cursive paint. Punching in the code, the iron door slid open and you stepped in before closing it behind you.

A loud cooing grunt was heard and the sound of quiet tapping echoed through the room before a pair of arms wrapped around your leg. "Hello, Michael." You giggled softly as Michael made grabbing hands up towards the bowl of fruit. Placing it down on the table, the child eagerly ran over and began munching on the food as you brushed over the books on the shelves to find one you haven't read to Michael before. "What about... The story of Persephone?"

A disappointed grunt was your only response.

"Guess I did read that one... Hm... Oh! What about the story of Icarus?" This time his response was a happy squeak and tippy taps of his hooves against the warm quartz floors. You sat down in the rocking chair and waited until the child scrambled over and jumped into your lap.

You opened the book and began reading to him for an hour until your eyes slowly slid shut to the quiet snores of the child of your two best friends, who at this point was beginning to see you as a mother.

Quiet 'meh' sounds and 'vrrr'ing noises and a dim flash woke you up from your spot in the rocking chair. Cracking open your eyes, your arms shifted around the nether hybrid as you saw Tubbo holding a camera making happy bleating noises, while Ranboo, who was the source of the buzzing noises, took the book you had been reading from your limp hand to put it back on the shelf.

"What time is it?" You murmured softly to keep the child asleep as you rubbed the back of your stiff and sore neck.

"It's about 5:30pm. Still rather early. Tubbo walked over and gave you a gentle yet affectionate headbutt while he scooped Michael up from your lap to bring him to bed. This caused an odd whining noise to come from the enderman hybrid before he quickly walked over and rested his forehead against yours, resting it there for a few moments before pulling back, his cheeks flushed the same colours as his eyes.

You giggled softly and gave him a gentle pat on the head as he helped you up. He held onto one of your hands as Tubbo eagerly went for the other, jokingly sticking his tongue out at Ranboo who gave a noise of mock offence, causing you three to giggle softly as you left Michael's room and went upstairs.

Tubbo and Ranboo weren't big fans of you leaving the basement on your own, and you were rarely allowed to leave the mansion even with the two boys at your sides. The former president told you it was because he heard rumours of Technoblade searching around for all the members of his cabinet back when he was in charge of L'Manberg, and he just wanted to protect you.

You saw no problems with his story as it was extremely believable. Your history with Technoblade hadn't been the cleanest and he would've definitely taken one of your canon lives back during the attack on L'Manberg, had a stray black and white firework not saved you that day. It had fired off and must've swerved a way that wasn't predicted, because it hit Technoblade hard enough in the chest to knock him away from you.

You don't remember much of that day, except for Ranboo immediately running over to you and dragging you away from the destruction and chaos. Thanks to him, you were almost completely scar-free and standing proudly at three canons lives.

A gentle hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality and you saw two sets of eyes staring at you with concern. "Hey... Are you feeling okay?" Ranboo asked softly, tilting your head up to place his free hand against your forehead, "See. I told you she should be getting more sunlight, Tubbo!"

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" You laughed softly at their worry, rubbing your thumbs along the back of their hands, "Just... Remembering the war with Dream and Techno..."

"What about it?" Tubbo asked, bringing you into the living room to sit down with your friends on either side of you.

You pursed your lips together for a moment as you looked at the ground, "Just how... Scary Techno is. And how he was about to kill me without a care about who or what I was."

Angered growling and seething noises came from Ranboo and Tubbo as you felt their grasps tighten around your hands, almost to a painful degree. You looked up and saw their expressions stone-cold and steely although vastly different from each other.

Ranboo's green eye was purple, and the black tone of his skin was beginning to seep into the side with the lack of colour. The corners of his mouth were slowly splitting open wider and wider as his lips parted, allowing you to see the glowing purple colour inside his mouth.

Tubbo's was less obvious. His eyes were blank but also had a bright fire, one burning for revenge, reflected in them. His ears weren't flicking and neither was his tail, his entire body stiff except for a faint sound giving away the fact that his teeth were grinding together.

As much as you tried to endure it, the grip became too harsh and you couldn't help but give a small pained gasp. This caused all physical contact with you to suddenly vanish as the two boys immediately flung themselves away from you, horror and fear in their eyes.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"

"Are you okay?! Do you need an ice pack?!"

"Or a bandage from my claws?!"

They were both kneeling on the ground in front of you with both of your hands in their grasps again. They repeatedly turned your hands in their own, testing the joints and checking for marks or bruising. "Boys, boys!" You laughed softly, placing your hands on their heads to ruffle their hair gently. You pulled your left hand adorned with two beautiful rings and held it up for them to see, flexing it and moving it around, "See? Perfectly fine. No pain whatsoever!"

While they seemed to have calmed down a lot, they still seemed to be extremely upset and guilty. "I'm still going to get an ice pack... We don't want our wife to be injured..." Tubbo murmured as he quickly got up and walked towards the kitchen.

"I will get started on dinner. And as an apology, I'm making your favourite. (F/f)." Ranboo tried to be a little more upbeat than Tubbo, but you could still see the small amounts of guilt as he turned and followed after the goat hybrid.

Sighing softly at their over reactions, you leaned back against the couch...

Before doing a double-take.

Adorned with rings?!

You quickly flung yourself forward again and looked at your left hand. On your ring finger were two diamond rings, one gold with a green gemstone, and the other silver with a black gemstone, both glistening a faint purple from enchantments...

...

When did these get put on you- wait... Did Tubbo say... wife?