Tumgik
#you can do whatever you want to your body. people split their tongues in half. people get gauges and piercings and tattoos and what have u
frankotalk · 6 months
Text
you have to admit its pretty funny that transphobes will go red in the face screaming and foaming at the mouth because their basic understanding of gender is being challenged while somewhere in the world some trans person is chilling in a hammock drinking from a coconut with a bendy straw and a little umbrella
#i mean the vitriol is scary more than anything but its also funny considering that trans ppl r just like. chilling#its just really simple. and at least for me my goal is not to be a 'biological male'...#like yes i get dysphoria and shit but where i am atm im actually fairly comfortable with my body. not super interested in phallo#cuz thats always the main thing transphobes say like 'YOULL NEVER BE A BIOLOGICAL MALE!!' which like ok 1. what is a biological male#2. I DONT GIVE A SHIT !!!!!!#bc taking hormones means i develop male characteristics. or like yknow. characteristics that allign more with my internal image of myself#and honestly starting hormones has been so epic. not seeing a major voice drop yet but well... there are changes#and my moustache is honest to god coming along . ive had shitty lip hair for the past couple yrs but like ... i stg... the potential is here#anyway. this is all to say that i think its very easy to come to terms with the fact that like. we have autonomy#you can do whatever you want to your body. people split their tongues in half. people get gauges and piercings and tattoos and what have u#you should be able to experiment with your body and bring yourself closer to inhabiting a body that makes you comfortable#the goal at least for me is not to become biologically male. i want to be comfortable in my body#and i want to be percieved as male#bc another thing that pisses transphobes off is im not particularly masculine (or rlly feminine for that matter)#but they dont know the joys of being a fairy beloved by mothers around the globe. okay.#anyway its almost 1am can you tell i cant sleep lately and also dont want to do a thing that is due on friday. xo
0 notes
oscarpiasstri81 · 10 months
Text
i wanna ruin our friendship - Oscar Piastri
Tumblr media
part one / part two
summary ~ oscar and reader telling the grid about their newfound relationship… but they already know.
pairing ~ {oscar piastri × childhoodbsf!reader}
content warnings ~ language, mentions of sex, mostly fluff, carlos sainz being a menace
a/n ~ i did NOT think so many people would read, let alone actually like my first ever ff. thank you guys so much!!! Los amo mucho a todos, gracias. <3
word count ~ again, idk. like 1k or something ?
Tumblr media
You woke up to the feeling of the warm sun resting over your face. Shifting a little in your still half asleep state, you felt a slight weight over your waist. Confused for a split second, you look down to figure out what it is. Seeing a strong, tanned arm, you’re reminded of last nights events.
Oscar had been awake for a few minutes before you, staying completely still in order to not wake you. Once he noticed you were awake, he spoke to you with his rough, sleep coated voice.
“Morning, pretty girl. How did you sleep?”
Hearing his voice made you flip your body around to face him, a smile already plastered on your face. You gave him a quick peck on the lips before replying.
“I slept pretty good, especially since I was next toyou.” Your words left a faint blush over Oscars face, completed with the prettiest of smiles.
He returned your previous gesture with another, much longer, kiss. As you felt him tongue running across the bottom of your lips, you let the kiss go on for only a moment longer before pulling away.
“As much as I would like to lay here all day, Charles has probably got breakfast going downstairs. You know how impatient he gets.”
Oscar responded to your statement with an annoyed groan. Rolling his eyes before pulling you into a short, but just as sweet, kiss. He quickly got out of bed, getting dressed as you began to do the same. Once you were both done getting ready, Oscar headed to the door. You quickly stopped him.
“Wait, Oscar.” He stopped and turned to look at you confused.
“Yeah? Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just… are we going to say anything? To anyone? You know, about us?” You asked as nicely as possible, not wanting to come off as if you were ashamed. He seemed to understand what you were implying.
“We can if you want to, pretty. I have no problems in telling the whole world that you are my beautiful, lovely girlfriend.” He said with a soft smile.
“Good, good. I don’t want to keep anything a secret, especially from our friends.”
Glad to hear your words of affirmation, you both had agreed to tell each of your friends together, over whatever horrible breakfast Charles was cooking downstairs. As excited as you were to tell everyone about your relationship, you were not excited about Charles cooking skills, you could smell the smoke from upstairs.
The both of you headed downstairs together. As you walked into the room, you noticed all heads turn towards you and Oscar.
There were only about 12 people who had stayed over for the night, all of them being either from the grid, or one of the WAGs, as the internet had dubbed them.
Although you were confused as to why everyone had so suddenly looked, and then just as quickly averted their gaze, you headed to sit at the large table. Charles cooking hadn’t been so miserable today, only about half of it being slightly charred. Oscar took his seat next to you, laying his hand onyour thigh. You turned to look at him, and gave him a silent nod as the go ahead to tell the group about your news.
Just as Oscar was about to speak, a sharp voice suddenly interrupted him. Carlos.
“So, you two got up to some fun last night, sí?” He said with a smirk, he was a very forward and teasing person.
The blush that covered both you and Oscars faces confirmed whatever Carlos was insinuating, and that only made the groups laugh even harder. You turned to Oscar with an embarrassed look. It was obvious how oblivious the both of you were to how loud you had been last night. It now made sense how Lando, who you considered to be a brother, couldn’t meet your eyes earlier when you offered him a ‘good morning’.
It was clear that Oscar was equally as embarrassed as you, although the slight smirk on his face said otherwise. The usually quiet and introverted man was sort of proud that everyone heard how good he could make you feel. He broke everyone’s laughter as he spoke.
“Well, at least now we don’t have to tell you guys. But, we’re together, for clarification.”
Everyone offered their congratulations, still quietly laughing about the whole situation. Lando, on the other hand, was not finding this as amusing.
“I am happy for you guys, just… don’t be so loud next time. I don’t need to hear any of that. Y/n is like a sister to me!”
This sent everyone into a fit again, laughing at not only you and Oscars expense, but Lando’s as well.
“Yeah,” Carlos speaks up, “You didn’t need to tell us anything, we all heard.”
Tumblr media
a/n ~ again, thank you guys so much for the support on part one!!! i really appreciate it. let me know if you have any requests for writes, i’ll do pretty much anyone. hasta la vista, bebé
Tumblr media
107 notes · View notes
dominque-writes · 10 months
Note
hi! idk if u take requests or not, but i love ur writing and was wondering if you'd do a set of prompts for a superhero duo? like begrudging partners
thank youuu 💖
1) Hero / Anti-Hero - Meeting Times
"You're late."
"Nuh-uh. I'm not late, you're early."
The Hero grits their teeth. "We said 9PM."
"You said 9PM. I actually have a life, so you're lucky I showed at all." Mask peeled up to their nose, lower half of their face exposed, the Anti-Hero had a colourful bendy straw dangling from their lips as they slurp up the contents of a milkshake.
"This," bites out the Hero, "was your idea."
The Anti-Hero gives a particularly obnoxious yawn, paired with a matching wide-armed stretch. "So? I don't recall appointing you as my mother. Hop off my dick."
Biting their tongue, the Hero has to fight to keep themself from dignifying the Anti-Hero with a response.
"I'm gonna take your silence as a hearty sign that we agree. I'm right on time." The Anti-Hero holds out their milkshake. "Want a sip?"
If looks could kill, the Hero would've broken their moral code five times over by now.
2) Hero / Anti-Hero - Kill Rule
Shit hit the fan the exact second the Anti-Hero showed up. The Hero had things under control, to whatever extent they could with their no-kill rule, but the Anti-Hero had no such dilemma.
Goon bodies dropped, both dead and for cover, as the Anti-Hero sprayed the contents of two handguns across the room. Blood, chaos, and screaming clouds the space, painting death every where the Hero looks.
"No killing!"
"No what?!" the Anti-Hero shouted over their shoulder. "I can't hear you over all this killing!"
Familiar frustration rose in the Hero's chest as the Hero yelled back over the gunfire. "I said, no killing!"
"What?! Oh!" The gunfire on the Anti-Hero's end peters to a stop. Just the metallic ricochet of bullet shells rolling on cold concrete floors. Unfortunately, one bloodied, beaten goon made the mistake of trying to push to his feet.
The Anti-Hero pops a bullet in his skull without so much as a glance over their shoulder.
"What the hell was that?!" Hero snaps, feeling damn close to stamping their foot like a child out of pure frustration. This alliance was already controversy, considering their oppositional stances on the value of human life, and now it was killing people.
"Chill out, dude, I thought you said no quilting."
Quiltingareyoufuckingserious- "That is nothing like what I just said!"
"Obviously I couldn't hear you, man, don't bite my head off."
"Just- just-" The Hero splutters, overwhelmed with the life already lost, cleaning up this particular portion of the criminal underbelly, and - apparently - babysitting the Anti=Hero on top of it all. "No more killing, alright?!"
Despite this, the Anti-Hero does empty a new handgun magazine into one last goon's head before this night's collaboration ended.
3) Hero / Anti-Heroine - Jewel Heist
"Oh, I'm so taking this."
The Hero whips around, sensing in his gut that his on-off crime-fighting partner was about to swap sides, just in time to see the Anti-Heroine dip her hand into the shattered glass case of the jewel display.
He's at her side in a split-second, catching her wrist before she can get ahold of the precious jewels they'd just prevented from getting stolen. "Cut it out, would you?"
"What? I did, like, really well today. Saved lives and whatnot, all entirely without benefit to myself. It's my reward."
"No."
"But it's so tiny, they won't even notice it's gone." Again, she reaches for a sapphire jewel that the Hero would never, ever refer to as tiny.
"It is its own exhibit, Anti-Heroine," hisses the Hero, "so I think they will know somebody took it."
"They wouldn't know it was me. Bet they'd write it off as collateral damage."
"I promise they would know it was you. Okay, just- Look, the work itself is the reward."
The Anti-Heroine tilts her head, questioning.
"Uh, you know. Gratitude of the people? Knowing you did the right thing? Pretty... rewarding, emotionally."
"Right..." The Anti-Heroines rolls her eyes, shaking her head as if the Hero was the one not understanding here. "Well, I can't buy new shoes with gratitude and high fives. C'mon, what about just the red one?"
"I said no."
"Fine, I'll settle with the incy-wincy emerald. Matches my eyes, don't you think?"
"Anti-Heroine, I swear to all that's holy-"
She scoffs, but withdraws her hand in favour of crossing her arms over her chest. "You're no fun."
4) Hero Sidekick / Villain Minion- Rescuing Mentors
"-Or, hear me out, we do my plan and it might actually be good."
"My plan is good," the Sidekick bites out. "It minimises civilian casualties and property damage, whilst ensuring we can get to our mentors in the shortest preferable time."
"Your plan is lame. Nothing even blows up. What I am supposed to do with all these bombs I brought?"
The Sidekick eyes the dufflebag trapped snugly under the Minion's foot. "You didn't, right?"
"Like I'd tell you, nerd," says the Minion snarkily. "Your goody-two-shoes ass would confiscate my shit so fast."
"God, you're immature."
"Immature?" The Minion gives a ridiculing laugh, clearly enjoying the act of winding the Sidekick up. "I'm immature? Didn't you literally just graduate from high school?"
The Sidekick splutters, taken aback. "I've been in college for like, two years!"
"Huh. My bad, I didn't know you were just short. Maybe stick to the high school thing. Or invest in heels." Kicking back in their chair, the Minion kicks their feet up, boots now irritatingly close to the Sidekick's face. "Anywho, your plan is all well and good if we have to be totally boring. But how, oh smartypants supreme, do you suggest we get past their primary and secondary reinforced drop-doors without brute force?"
"... I hadn't thought about that."
"So you were wrong." They give a theatric yawn before nocking a forefinger back at their now blank expression. "This is me shocked, stunned, and flabbergasted."
"I'll kill you."
"Ooh, Moral-lad McBuzzkill wants to murder me, I'm sooo threatened." The Minion presses their hands to their face, a picture of mock, exaggerated fear pulling onto their facial expression. "I'm just quivering in my floral Chanel combat boots."
The Sidekick's hands ball into fist, holding their rising anger and frustration back by a weakening threat. Maybe they can list supernatural patience to their resume as a new superpower.
5) Hero / Antihero - Stakeout
"Can you get off the phone?"
The Hero glowers, pulls their phone from their ear and ghosts their hand over the mouthpiece, and hisses, "I'm on the phone."
"Yes, I have eyes."
"So. Shut up."
The Anti-Hero forces out a heavy, exaggerated sigh. They lean back against the parapet wall of the rooftop the pair were stationed on, chin balanced on the palm of their hand as they stare intently at the Hero. Fully intending to disrupt them without saying a word, throw them off their precious conversation.
It takes less than a minute for the Hero glare and stop talking to hold the phone away again. "Do you need something?"
"Oh, only if you can slot it into your super busy schedule, Mister Important," says the Anti-Hero, tone slick with mock sincerity.
"What is it."
"Okay, so do you remember that high security vault we were supposed to be watching?" The Anti-Hero says, taking their sweet time to get to the point out of petty vengeance. "Y'know, the one containing that death weapon some major-league baddies wanna steal?"
The Hero rolls their eyes. "Ugh, yes?"
"It's totally getting robbed right now."
"Oh, shit."
22 notes · View notes
Text
The Heat Made Me Do It
LOL It's platonic light hearted Tarvez smut. 2,488 words Ao3
“Hey, eyes up top.”
“Shit. Sorry, Tar-” His head snaps, embarrassed at being caught, but when he looks up, gaze rushing from where it’s been stuck drifting slowly up long, smooth, toned thighs- to face, what he finds isn’t the anticipated disgust or discomfort he expects, it’s a teasing smile and her middle finger.
Tara leans in, purring next to his face, “Enjoy the view?”
He presses a half hearted laugh and rolls his eyes shaking his head, tongue stuck in a point to the roof of his mouth. Of course this is how she’d respond. Shame him. Drag out his embarrassment, but with a joke. He deserved it. He was ogling his friend like some slack-jawed teenager seeing boobs for the first time.
Or legs, as it happened to be.
He licked his lips and put up his hands in surrender, “Go on, give it to me, Lewis,” he offered.
They each may have been half dressed, he in some basketball shorts and she in bikini underwear and a tee, but he had more respect for people than that. Knew better. Was brought up better. Nothing about them hanging out, sharing a few beers and watching tv in the sweltering summer heat, invited that kind of attention…Hell she was wearing more than what most people wore to a pool…and yet, defenses down…heat hazed brain…he might have gotten a little sidetracked.
He watches as her eyes narrow and her lips twist into a smirk, “Funny…I was just about to say the same thing.”
“Give it to me, Lewis?” Luke playfully questions, eyebrow raising.
“Well, ‘give it to me, Alvez’ is what I said to your daddy last n-”
And then he’s laughing, the sound cutting her off. She’s such a jerk. Dad jokes, even now. Especially now.
“You know what-” he starts, eyes not daring to leave hers, not trusting not to stray. There are a million things he wants to say, a hundred he’d never utter, and the things he wants to do… aren’t friendly.
He glares, but there’s no heat. No animosity.
But there’s something else.
The hair on his neck stands and he backs away, rising slowly, putting distance between them. He tucks the bottle necks of empty beers between his knuckles, stating, “I need some water. You want some?”
Tara regards him for a minute, and maybe it’s his mind trying to assuage a guilty conscious, but it looks like there’s something she wants to say, something more, something… disappointed? But she only purses her lips and gives a nod.
There were words trapped on the edge of her lips, impulse denied. Would it be different if she’d admitted the only reason she’d tracked his line of sight…was because it crossed with her own?
She pauses whatever it is they’re watching…she hasn’t been watching. There’s the clang of recycling, the sound of a cabinet opening and closing, and the suction of his fridge. She hears him humming and the pitcher glugging. It’s a split second decision, but as she sees him make his way back, the impulse is back and she decides to go for it.
Luke scoffs, but can’t keep the grin from his face, “Tara, come on, enough. I have learned my lesson, it will never happen again.” Despite himself, despite his words, he can feel his body reacting, and, eyes to the ceiling, immediately tries to stop it.
Think unhappy thoughts. Think unhappy thoughts. But every thought he’s capable of takes the shape of Tara’s bare tits.
Tara tilts her head, frowning, then grabs him by the jaw and pulls, forcing him to look her in the eyes. She was going through with it.
“Alvez, I’m only going to say this once: I want you to fuck me. If that’s crossing a line for you, say it now and I’ll put my shirt back on. We’ll never talk about it again, bu-“
But she doesn’t finish because suddenly he’s diving forward, his lips are on hers and his fingers are tearing through her hair and an arm is at her lower back pinning her stomach to his. She isn’t sure where the water went or just how he moved so quickly, but it’s really the last thing on her mind anyway.
It’s a split second decision, one he hopes he wont regret. One he knows he fully wants. And he isn’t about to insult Tara Lewis.
“Oh, fucking thank god.” she mumbles on his lips, hands now splaying across jaw to hold him to her. Luke’s kisses become more insistent, rougher, and though the height difference is nonexistent, the arm around her back is pulling her closer, forcing her on her tip toes, Luke’s thigh pushing through her legs and she’s kissing him and kissing him and kissing him, hands combing through thick hair, mouths never parting, a moan as she jerks, sliding too fast against the slippery fabric on his quad, but god it feels good.
She can feel him hard, full, erect, pressing into her hip, she grins deviously against his lips rolling on him, eliciting a low sound from deep in his throat, a reaction accompanied by his own retaliation as the hand in her hair suddenly squeezes between them feeling her out, feeling her up. Fingers parting slick lips, arm ensuring she couldn’t back off, rough thumb roughly stroking, digits probing, entering, two thick fingers pushing into her-
and curling back out, Tara stutters a gasping breath, head and chest the only parts of her able to pull away.
She plants her hands on his shoulders arcing back, gasping deep breaths, and Luke takes advantage of her chest now on display, ducking his head and wrapping wet hot mouth and hot slick tongue around one nipple and then another, sucking and kneading with the full musculature of his lips, fingers never ceasing their movements below. He’s found this one spot deep inside her and just. Keeps. Stroking it. Over and over and over. Finger pads curling over and over. She tries to buck, to move, but it’s near impossible. Her hands fly to his head as she mewls and gasps above him, palms weakly shoving, legs clenching, “Al- Lu- nnn-“ and then his thumb presses hard and his fingers curl harder and she’s bucking and coming on him, making the most un-Tara-like sounds he’s ever heard and he doesn’t stop, hand pumping and thumb working and mouth moving to her throat as she cries out again.
Her whole body tenses seizing with the last of her manually drawn-out orgasm, Luke slowing his movements, both breathing hard. Tara leans on him for stability, not quite trusting her own wobbly legs just yet, glad for the arm now slung a bit looser, but still fastened around her. His forehead’s on her shoulder and it almost feels like he’s drooping, but that can’t be right, she can still feel him throbbing between their bodies.
“Is that all you got, Alvez?”
She brings her mouth slowly to his neck, right below his ear, and positions her tongue like a pad between her parted lips, licking and sucking at the taught skin, soft and firm. Her hand coasting down his chest, down his side, over his ribs, and across his abs into his waistband,
“Is it my turn?” quietly curls, her nose trailing as she sucks down his lobe, teeth gently scraping. Long fingers twist to wrap, squeezing lightly, pulling up and down his shaft.
Luke’s hips stutter thrusts into her grip, groaning, fingers digging into her flesh, “Tar- before- I think we should-“ Getting her off was one thing, going further, doing more…he couldn’t quiet the voice inside him needing to know, needing clarification.
“Alvez, shut up,” her breath is hot and damp fanning across his neck, alighting goosebumps from the heat in the air, the heat on his skin, in its wake. “Neither of us had that much to drink, this isn’t love, it’s not that deep. It’s just two fit, attractive people enjoying the other’s company.”
That…was the answer he was hoping for.
Luke breaks into a cheeky grin pulling back from her, and knits his brows in a faux show of confusion, “Aw, you think I’m pretty Lewis?”
Tara laughs in his face, letting go to push at him, “Fuck you, if the Rangers were into posters, your face would be on every one.”
“Mmm, they did teach me some pretty useful things,” and with that Tara’s view turns upside down, Luke swiftly grabbing a leg and flipping her over his shoulder.
A yelp of surprise breaks through the apartment, and a loud smack follows close on its heels, Tara delivering a walloping slap to a firm ass cheek. Luke, entirely unfazed, continues his course, carrying her off like some caveman’s prize.
She lands with a bounce, elbows tucked as she’s tossed onto his bed, and then he’s over her, fingers slipping up her spread thighs, ducking under the thin elastic bands of her underwear, hooking, and pulling down, all the while kissing and nipping bee-like trails over her collar, up and down her throat, tongue laving wet, lips sucking, and her hands are once again resting on soft curls, prepared to guide if needed. She lifts one leg and then the other, quickly helping to discard the garment, helping him to shimmy out of his own.
Just as soon, his hands are back between her legs, delicious tongue swirling, whipping up nipples into fresh peaks, the feeling pulling from chest-to navel-to nether. She feels the zing of his calloused fingers gently coasting down her smooth belly, over hip, and across a muscular, long thigh. He scoops it up and wraps it around himself.
From this position he’s closer, spreading Tara wider, he can feel the heat from her, feel how wet he’s made her. He removes his hand, cradling a shoulder blade and lifts her to him, kissing her with soft force, hips rushing up through her damp lips, ridged, thick, heavy cock urging as it parts her, gliding over her aching clit.
She feels the rattling moan dredged from her chest, gravel and air.
Luke pulls back, flicking a cocky brow, “Ready to see how deep it can be?”
He’s bigger than she expects, though she didn’t really get a good look, bigger than he felt. Her bottom lip sucks in from the feeling, the pressure of being so full.
“Damn, Lewis, you really do keep it tight everywhere.” Luke teases, taking a moment to settle, to adjust. She’s so fucking wet juice is dripping down his balls, but so fucking snug and he wants to make sure this is actually enjoyable for both of them. They haven’t talked about…anything, but he doesn’t want to just go plowing into her.
“Go fuck yourself, Alvez,” A hand that had been resting high on his chest shoves at him.
“I’d rather fuck you.” He smirks down at her after he says it, and she hates how she’ll probably think about right now- hot bothered, turned on, Alvez hard between her legs- every time she sees that smirk in the future.
“Then do it” Tara half commands, half whines, fingers digging bluntly into the meat of his ass and bucking up, gasping as she forces him deeper within.
Luke huffs a laugh, angling his hips back, pulling out, then rocks, slow and measured back into her, out, in, out….in….out… with every tortuous grind his weight pushes in time on her clit, and she squirms under him. The ridged thickness, the pulsing swell, his measured intentional movements, the brush of his fingertips down her arms, and his full lips at her jugular intensify when she closes her eyes. She feels him all over, feels him deep inside, feels herself as more and more lubrication is coaxed out of her and Luke must feel it too, feel her stretching and relaxing and her hips coming up to meet his because he’s shifted his stance, arms bracing around hers now, and his pace is quickening, thrusts coming faster and faster. Thrust after thrust he hits deeper and deeper and she feels herself drawing up, deep inside drawing up, belly drawing up, chest drawing up, and her breath shortening, her legs wrapping and tightening, and she’s almost there and then his large hands are bracing and wrapping like her legs but around her back and he’s lifting her and rolling and then she’s looking down at him and he’s looking up at her and he’s telling her not to stop, keep going, come on Tara, hands coasting down her back, and spreading across her stomach and she’s riding him, grinding down and back, and down, and back, watching his shaft come out and slip away, burying it deep inside as she thrusts hard onto him. She cries out at the sharp pinch she feels fucking him harder and harder, hands braced on his chest, head tossed back, impaling herself on him, faster and faster and faster and fuck.
One of Luke’s large hands is cupping her breasts, rolling and massaging nipples and tit, the other squeezing her ass, spreading her, holding her closer, moving to her hip in a haphazard attempt to help guide, forward, up, back, down, forward, up, back, down, the sight of her- she’s losing her breath, panting and keening and he feels her as she quickens tightening, fluttering, the airy sounds above him getting higher doing so much to carry him along. Feeling it, knowing it, Tara groans out his name, bucking and bucking and pulling and flexing around his cock with her walls, bringing him with her, trying to tell him, trying to get him to that point. His breath is heavy under her, a mix of Tara, and Fuck, and yes, and come on, and then both strong hands are clutched around her hips sliding her with more force and and he’s thrusting up into her, and she collapses on top of him, hooking her arms around his shoulders as she continues to fuck down on to him as he continues to fuck up into her and his fingers wiggle between their slick bodies to find that erotic button to end it all, send them both careening over, three rough fingers cupping and dragging and stroking and they meet with slamming force and she clenches and he tenses and she shrieks and he comes and then he’s pumping and pumping and pumping and rubbing and rubbing and rubbing and she’s coming throaty and hard and flexing and gasping through the end until they’re both done and she’s breathing hard and rolling to her back next to him and she’s laughing euphoric, arm across her face.
He’s laughing too, head turned watching her, hand resting on his stomach, "Fuck, that was amazing."
Tara peeks at him, grinning, "Yeah," she agrees, "almost as good as your dad-"
8 notes · View notes
travelingasafamily · 1 year
Text
“acknowledgments” by Danez Smith
Tumblr media
you save me half a bag of skins, the hard parts, my fav, dusted orange with hot • you say we can’t go to the bar cause you’re taking your braids out i come over, we watch madea while we pull you from you • you make us tacos with the shells i like & you don’t • i get too drunk at the party, you scoop my pizza from the sink with a solo cup, all that red • you, in the morning, bong water grin, wet chin • you, in the lawless dark, laughing like a room of women laugh at a man who thinks his knowledge is knowledge • i text you & you say, i was bout to text you, bitch • you cook pork chops same way i do, our families in another city go to the same church • you, rolling a blunt, holding your son, is a mecca • you invite me out for drag queens on the nights i think of finally [ ] • you pull over in Mississippi so i can walk a road my grandfather bled on • you gave me a stone turtle, it held your palm’s scent for a week • i call your mama mama • you request like a demand, make me some of that mango cornbread i cut the fruit, measure the honey • you & you & you & you go in on a dildo for my birthday you name it drake, you know me • a year with you in that dirty house with that cracked-out cat was a good year • at the function, i feel myself splitting into too many rooms of static you touch my hand & there i am • do you want to be best friends? a box for yes, a box for no • did our grandmothers flee the fields of embers so we could find each other here? friend, you are the war’s gentle consequence • i am the prison that turns to rain in your hands • you, at my door the night my father leapt beyond what we know you, dirt where i plant my light • the branches of silence are heavy with your sweet seed • you smell like the milk of whatever beast i am • your poop is news, your fart is news, your gross body my favorite song • you, drunk as an uncle, making all kinds of nonsense sense i listen for the language between your words • & when we fight, not a ring, but a room with no exit we spill the blood & bandage the wound, clean burns with our tongues • if luck calls your name, we split the pot & if you wither, surely i rot • we hate the same people, we say nigga please with the same mouth • & before we were messy flesh, i’m sure we were the same dust • everywhere you are is a church, & i am the pastor, the deacons, the mothers fainting at the altar • as long as i am a fact to you, death can do with me what she wants • my body, water, your body, a trail of hands carrying the river to the sea • i ink your name into my arm to fasten what is already there • i would love you even if you killed god • you made coming out feel like coming in from the storm • you are the country i bloody the hills for • you love me despite the history of my hands, their mangled confession • at the end of the world, let there be you, my world • god bless you who screens all my nudes, drafts my break-up text • you are the drug that knocks the birds from my heart • ain’t no mountain, no valley, no river i wouldn’t give the hands for comin’ to you sideways • o the horrid friends who were just ships harboring me to you • & how many times have you loved me without my asking? how often have i loved a thing because you loved it? including me • & i always knew • with yo ugly ass
Art: Dindga McCannon b. 1947 2 African Sisters 1972 block print with hand decoration12 x 11-1/2 inches
Poem: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/148357/acknowledgments
3 notes · View notes
thewritinglemons · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
New apartments meant new neighbors...sometimes a good thing and sometimes a bad thing. You wanted to remain optimistic about your new place. It lasted a solid week before the exhaustion was setting in. The man who lived right next to you apparently enjoyed staying up all night doing who knows what. He was loud though, and you hated it.
So in a small fit, you marched your way to his front door and knocked several times. You heard a yelp from inside then...slithering? The door creaked open just barely so the resident inside could see you. Your arms were crossed as you tapped your foot. He finally opened the door a bit more and you were greeted with the sight of a rather pretty looking Naga.
His large hoodie covered his entire torso, but you could see his long blue tail behind him, coiled up protectively in the large apartment. A black stripe ran down the center of the back, and the belly of his tail was a creamy white. His blue hair was messy and only half tied up. His bright yellow eyes looked at you nervously an he bit bit bottom lip with one of his long fangs.
"D-Did you uh...need something?" Oh no...even his voice was pretty.
Tumblr media
Hydrin is a shy and reclusive Naga who spends a majority of his time streaming video games for a living. His torso is about 5ft, while his tail adds an additional 10ft to his body, making him 15ft in total. His skin is an almost sickly pale since he never goes outside, and he has a few freckles dotting his face and chest. He has long, sky blue hair that's often tied halfway up in a bun with clips in the front to keep his bangs out of his face. His eyes are bright yellow with slitted pupils that he swear scares people off. He doesn't have any piercings, but his tongue is split like a snakes.
His tail is a deep blue tone with a long black stripe going down the middle. The belly of it is a creamy white, and the end of his tail is very tapered off. Despite being a recluse, he has naturally toned muscles due to his snake like genetics. He has sharp claws and fangs that are often gnawing on his bottom lip when he's worried.
Hydrin isn't good with interacting with other people and will do whatever he can to prevent it. If someone still wishes to get close to him they'll soon find out his love and passion for video game designing, and will get to spend hours listening to him talk about his favorite aspects of all his games.
Tumblr media
Two Joy-Cons | Story
DLC | Drabble
Licking the Mic | Drabble
Private Tournaments | Story
Low Battery | Drabble
Instructional Manual | Drabble
Hard Mode | Story
Unlocking Content | Drabble
Discord Kitten | Drabble
Snack Break | Story
Sticky Joystick | Drabble
Underleveled | Drabble
Next Level | Story
Right and Left Sticks | Drabble
Thanks for the Subs | Drabble
Level Grinding | Story
Lagging | Drabble
Easter Eggs | Drabble
Achievement Unlocked | Story
Alt Accounts | Drabble
Finish Him | Drabble
Eroge | Story
Cutscenes | Drabble
Exclusive Content | Drabble
Virtual Reality | Drabble
Combo Moves | Drabble
Starting A New Game | Story
2 notes · View notes
yikimiki · 3 years
Note
Please more Reiner and size kinkkkkkkk
SAY NO MORE!!! I actually got really carried away with this one because Reiner with a size kink just makes me go insane
jock!reiner x fem!reader | warnings: smut, size kink, dirty talk, rough sex, semi-public, unprotected sex, college au, praise kink, creampie, breeding kink
♡ ♡ ♡
In his defense, Reiner warned you. You just decided not to take him seriously.
Could you blame yourself? Not really, not when a lot of guys like to play up their sizes to get people interested. In your blissful innocence, you thought that Reiner, local dumbass and above average quarterback, was doing the same when he told you like three times that he might have to prepare you a little longer. In your lustful and incredulous haze, you only rolled your eyes, pulling him closer and moaning once your mouths collided back into a heated kiss.
Party hook-ups were never your go-to, but these are different times. Tonight, after a huge back and forth between the two of you, the bubble of sexual tension finally exploded when you straddled his meaty tights, making out with him on the sofa. It wasn’t long before Reiner was panting and groaning, the imprint of his hard cock poking your inner tight, and even less time until he was practically begging to take you somewhere private.
Which leads you here: with your legs spread open, panties hanging on one ankle and skirt pulled up to reveal your soaked pussy. Your ass is pressed against the cold marble of the bathroom sink and your eager eyes are watching as Reiner finally pulls his pants down, dragging his underwear down with it.
Oh. That’s gonna be an issue.
“Oh my god,” you breathe out, feeling both aroused and terrified at once. Reiner takes one hand to pump his cock, which his for sure the biggest you’ve ever seen. He’s thick and long, with a bright red tip and thick veins standing out. His balls are equally huge, heavy and loaded as he takes a step towards you. “Reiner, you’re so big.”
He scoffs, thumb circling his tip, where a fat bead of precum started to drip. “Sure you don’t want more prep?” He asks and, in a suicidal decision, you shake your head no. You’re being stupid for the second time tonight, but, now, it’s on purpose. As much as you think there’s no way in hell you’ll be able to take him inside, you want to feel the stretch of every single inch Reiner has to give you. He raises one eyebrow. “Sure about that?”
Tentatively, you curl one hand around his member, gasping once you notice you can’t even hold him all the way around. Reiner sees it too, hissing at the image. “I’m sure,” you say. “I wanna try.”
He takes another step towards you, large hands separating your thighs before he yanks you closer by the waist. You yelp at the movement, growing even wetter at his strength. “You sure you can take my cock, baby?” The pet name makes your toes curl, the vibrato of his voice now so much closer to you. Now that Reiner is standing tall before you, you come to terms with the fact that he’s huge all around — strong, defined muscles, tall, broad shoulders. He could break you in half if he wanted to. “Pussy looks so fucking tiny. I doubt I’ll fit.”
You gasp when two of his fingers spread your pussy lips apart. You hold his cock tighter, earning a groan from him. “Please, make it fit,” you almost sob. You never needed something so much in your life. “I can take whatever you give me, please.”
That seems to be enough for Reiner. He takes your hand away from his cock and lines his tip with your soaked entrance, rubbing himself up and down to catch more of your arousal. You are moaning at that feeling alone, entire body expecting for the moment that he finally enters you.
“Ready?” He asks. You nod, placing your hands on his shoulders. “Gonna go slow. But I can’t promise I’ll hold back later.”
“Okay,” you say.
The tip of his cock presses tightly against your entrance, intruding past the ring of muscle. Reiner growls against your ear at the feeling of your tiny pussy clenching around him, almost pushing him out. “You have to relax for me, baby,” he asks.
“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccup. “It’s just— you’re so big, so big.”
“Shhh, I know, baby, I know.” Reiner kisses your temple, then presses forward once again. You cry out his name as his huge length splits you open, feeling like you’re about to cum from his size alone. By the time that he bottoms out — how, you have no idea — you’re crying out in pain and pleasure, nails digging into his large biceps as he waits for you to get used to it. “Fuck, baby,” Reiner moans. “You’re way too fucking tight. Pussy’s just sucking me in.”
“M-move, please,” you beg. “Please, Reiner.”
You don’t have to ask twice. Reiner is slamming his hips against yours in no time, pace getting faster and faster until you’re practically bouncing on the bathroom sink, tits moving up and down with the force of his thrusts. You just feel so small caged by his strong arms; the animalistic glint in his eyes making you feel like he’s about to eat you whole. Still, you can’t think much further than that, not with his huge cock fucking you dumb, brushing against every single sweet spot you have.
“G-God, you’re such a good girl,” Reiner hisses, one arm circling your waist so he can change the angle of his thrusts. “You’re taking my fat cock so fucking well, this tight little pussy is not even letting me slip out.” His cock throbs inside you as he says that, and some part of your fucked-out brain realizes that he must like the size difference just as much as you. “Tell me you like it, baby, tell me.”
“I love it,” you moan, throwing your head back. Reiner is attacking your neck in no time, deep voice vibrating against your jugular as your walls start to clamp around him. Your next words are a complete disconnected mess because of your orgasm, but every single one is like music to his ears. “R-Reiner, your cock’s s-so huge, so big, can’t take it— too much, it’s too much, I can’t...”
“Cum for me. You’re gonna be a good girl and gonna take every fucking inch of this cock,” he orders. You do both — walls spasming around his girth as your high washes over you, calling out his name again and again as if there aren’t hundreds of people just outside the bathroom door. But you don’t care, not when Reiner keeps using your pussy as his favorite toy, moaning and cursing as his own high approaches. “Tell me I can cum inside you,” he practically begs. “Tell me I can breed this pussy.”
You nod, still drunk off the pleasure. “Yes, please, fill me up, Reiner, please.”
His hand is on the back of your neck before you can think, pulling you into a kiss that is all teeth and tongue. “Gonna give you every drop of my cum, baby,” Reiner promises. “Gonna fill you up until your pussy is dripping.”
This time, you’re smart enough to believe his warnings. Reiner cums soon after — and he cums a lot. Wave after wave of white shoots out of his cock, his hands holding onto your hips so tightly you just know it’ll be sore in the morning. You’re stuttering out his name as another small orgasm rushes through your body, enough to push out his cum before he’s even done with it, dripping down the sides of his cock and onto the floor. With his size and his release, you feel as full as you can get, bliss overtaking your body as he finally pulls away.
“What a mess,” you giggle, looking down between your legs.
Reiner agrees with a chuckle, leaning in to place a soft kiss against your lips. “You did so well,” he praises and you feel yourself melt. “Mind if I call you one of these days?”
3K notes · View notes
diamond-coral · 3 years
Text
A Game
Summary: Tony suggests a game that you, the unfortunate intern, get dragged right into the center of: who can make a woman cum the fastest?
Pairings: all dark!: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader, Thor x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader, Tony x Reader, implied natasha x reader
Warnings: DUB-CON/NON-CON (oral: f-receiving, fingering, tiny smidge of analplay) VOYEURISM/EXHIBITIONISM, BLACKMAILING, OVERSTIMULATION. The characters in this story are NOT good people. After reading the warnings, your media consumption is your own responsibility!
Tumblr media
As Stark’s party mellowed down and all the guests left, you, the unfortunate intern, were called over to the small group of five Avengers seated in a section of couches.
“Y/n, come!” Thor’s voice boomed.
“Y/n, come!” Sam mimicked, deepening his voice to make fun of Thor’s.
You approached them as the men snickered at Sam’s joke. 
“What can I do for you?” you ask, a fake smile plastered on your face.
Stark cleared his throat and raised a brow at you; a silent command. 
“What can I do for you, sir?” 
“A round of drinks please, and add this to Sir Barnes, Sir Rogers, and I’s drinks.” Thor handed you the flask of his Asgardian liquor and you accepted it, hiding the slight nervous tremble of your hands.
“Of course, sir.”
“Someone’s been learning their manners,” Steve taunted, and it took all your restraint to not snarl at him.
“Easy there, Rogers,” Stark interjected, noticing how your fingers clenched Thor’s flask tighter. “Pretty sure Barnes fucked the brat outta her couple days ago when he came back from that shitshow of mission in Bosnia. Got a lot of pent up rage there, Buck?”
“Mission just put me in a bad mood,” Bucky shrugged. “Either way, I don’t think I fucked all the brat outta her. Got anything left for me, doll?”
“I have nothing for you, you self-righteous, ignorant prick,” you spat venomously.
“There she is. I always love a challenge.” Bucky smirked at how your knuckles were turning white around the flask. “Now didn’t Thor ask you to go fetch us some drinks?”
You huffed, opting to bite your tongue rather than lashing out, and spun on your heel toward the minibar.
Three-months ago, you would never have imagined your internship interview at S.H.I.E.L.D to bring you here. Your interview had been conducted by Captain America himself, and just as things began to look promising, it was interrupted by a sharp knock from Tony Stark. Tony had brought Steve into the hall, leaving the door to the conference room open, and you could only sneak glances through the window of the room, hearing Steve whisper about how it was “a question of morality” while they both kept looking back at you.
You got the position, and the next day, Tony sat you down and gave you an offer.
The Avengers needed to be ‘taken care of’, as he put it, and you being a ‘stress-reliever’ would boost morale around the team. Most of the them never had time for the outside world (apparently saving the world was a big commitment?) and were rarely ever able to make lasting relationships. You could accept the position, be compensated monthy, and get to live in the compound, or you could decline, and walk away with your mouth sealed by the confidentiality contract you signed before the interview.  Something about S.H.I.E.L.D. work being linked to a lot of top secret information, meaning you weren’t allowed to speak any details of the job to outside parties unless you wanted to get sued for every penny you were worth.
You had been on the cusp of taking the second option before Tony mentioned your sister’s job as S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent. She was half the reason you’d interviewed for an internship. A couple words from Tony about her possibly falling into a fatal accident on a mission, and you took the position offer in a heartbeat.
You almost overfilled the glass while getting lost in your train of thought. Setting down the bottle of expensive whiskey, you placed the last glass next to the others on the silver tray, and picked it up, gracefully yet begrudgingly making your way back to the small gathering.
“Y/n, finally. We were just talking about who here can make a woman cum the fastest.”
The complete utter bluntness of Tony’s words caught you entirely off guard, and you tripped over your own feet, stumbling in your high heels to keep the tray of drinks from falling before Sam reached an arm out to catch the tray and another arm to hold your hip and steady you.
You ripped yourself from Sam’s touch without acknowledging or thanking him, to disturbed by Tony’s previous words to do so. You began passing out the glasses of dark liquid. “And you’re telling me this why?” Your voice was flat in hopes of showing Tony you were completely disinterested in any plans he might have.
“Why, we need your aid, Lady Y/n,” Thor answered a little too cheerfully for your taste.
“I won’t be partaking in your little immature competition of toxic masculinity.” You crossed your arms and continued. “It makes it seem that women are nothing but prizes. Games to be played by boys as they fight over the highscore. Toys.”
“Aren’t they?” Steve cocked his head, eyes glimmering with amusement while a smirk painted his face. The rest of the men chuckled at his reply.
“I think HR would be shocked to hear that Captain America is being a sexist dick to a woman in the workplace,” you bit back, but your threat was weak and they all knew it.
“I think HR would be to busy writing a condolence letter to your sisters family if, let’s say, on her mission with Sam tomorrow in Russia, a stray bullet hit her,” Steve replied. A quick reminder at the stakes. 
Sam clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock sympathy. “Those darn Russians and their careless aim.”  
He abruptly pushed himself off the couch and clapped his hands together. “I wanna go first,” he declared.
“Just remember, you can’t use your dick,” Tony added. “Some of us don’t have super soldier serum enhanced fuckwands.”
“Please never, ever say fuckwand again,” Bucky said, scrunching up his nose. “Besides, the hydra serum didn’t do anything down there.” He waggled his eyebrows while elbowing his enhanced counterpart. “Don’t think I could say the same for this punk here though.”
Steve muttered a ‘shut up’ while the group snickered.
All while they compared sizes like a bunch of teenagers, Sam manhandled you onto the coffee table in the center of the couches. You let out a grunt as you were shoved onto your front, stomach pressed into the tabletop while your pelvis was slammed into the edge.
Sam kneeled behind you and brought up two fingers to your mouth.
“Get ‘em nice and wet for me, baby.”
The men around you went quiet, entranced as you reluctantly took Sam’s fingers into your mouth, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them.
When Sam finally pulled them out, he looked back at Tony.
“You ready?” Sam asked.
Sam hiked the flowy skirt of your dress up your legs causing you to squirm and pathetically thrash; a desperate attempt at putting an abrupt stop to this stupid game.
“You’re on the clock.”
At Tony’s words, Sam immediately stopped your desperate attempt at worming away from him by catching you by the back of your neck and slamming you back down hard on the coffee table. Much to your disdain, the rough treatment made you wet, and that was the last thing you wanted them to see.
But when Sam pulled your lacy panties down, you could tell it was the first thing he noticed.
“Fuck babygirl, I didn’t need you lubing up my fingers, you’re already drenched,” he noted.
You let out a soft moan as Sam worked two calloused fingers into your pussy. Although they’re thick and long, they were nowhere near the size of his dick and you silently thanked whatever was out there that he wasn’t splitting you in half with it at the moment. Sam released the grip on your neck, moving to settle the hand on your ass before giving it a light squeeze and a slap that elicited another moan from you. While Sam slowly began moving his fingers- twisting, curling, and pumping them- he leaned over you, caging your body under his broad chest, to speak dirty words into your ear.
“Baby, you’re so wet right now, I think you like having them watch you.” Your cheeks burned in shame while he picked up the pace. “You want them to see how well-behaved you are for me? Want them to see how you come on my hand like a good little slut?” he cooed.
Slow pumps now turned to quick thrusts from his skilled fingers and Sam groaned as you fluttered around him.
“That’s it. You’re taking me perfectly.”
Twisting his wrist so his thumb could also strum your clit, Sam was moving so fast you’d easily mistake him for a superhuman.
“Yes, Sam, please,” you cried out, eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“Uh-uh, babygirl. Wrong word,” he scolded, although his pace never slowed as his fingers brutally fucked into you.
“Daddy!” you screamed. “I’m cumming!”
You chanted those words, cunt clamping down on his merciless fingers. He gave you no reprieve, mercilessly thrusting into you, until you squirted, your release coating his hand and dripping down his forearm. Only when you were almost crying, did he finally remove his hand from your abused cunt.
“Now that-,” Sam stated, grinning while he stood. “-is how you make a girl come.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever Birdbrain.” You don’t have any strength to look at Tony as he speaks. “Give her a couple minutes before whoever’s next.”
Whatever the conversation was between them (you couldn’t hear it over the buzzing in your brain), it was much too short to your liking. The few minutes Tony gave you only felt like a few seconds before Bucky was getting up.
“Guess I’ll take a crack at it,” he announced, rolling his head from side to side.
“No one says “take a crack at it” anymore, old man.”
“Keep talking when your in last place, Sam,” Bucky quipped, however, his tone was still light.
You felt a metal hand on your hip before you were rolled over onto your back, now facing Bucky while your eyes pleaded with him.
“Please dont,” you croaked.
Bucky just scoffed, kneeling down between your legs and wrapping both arms around your thighs as he pulled you closer.
“Tony?” His hot breath fanned your pussy as he spoke and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Stark said.
Bucky wasted no time the moment the words left Tony’s mouth. He started by licking up from your hole to clit over and over, the lazy stripes already driving you wild. Letting go of one of your thighs to bring his flesh hand to your pussy, he pulled the hood of your clit back, pausing his licking to blow on your engorged bud.
“Such a pretty pussy, doll,” he murmured before turning his head around and speaking louder. “You guys seeing this?” 
He moved his head out of the way to showcase your glistening folds. A couple groans from the men on the couches had you trying to close your legs, but Bucky’s grip was like steel (especially considering his hand was metal).
“Wasting time Buck,” Steve commented and Bucky just rolled his eyes.
“I’m pretty sure I can still beat Sam and have time left over,” he scoffed.
Bucky directed his attention back to your folds, this time, diving in right away. He still had the hood of your clit pulled back as he encased the bud with his lips causing you to writhe at the intense sensation. And yet, you were held down with practically no effort as he methodically played with you. Each time he groaned against you, you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, and by the time he started sucking on your clit, you were wrecked. Your hand found home in his brown locks of hair while he quickly moved his tongue back and forward on your sensitive nub that was trapped in the vacuum of his mouth. The coil inside you wound tighter and tighter, and suddenly, while Bucky began shaking his head from side to side, it snapped. Your clit pulsed rapidly while encased in his hot mouth, and you screamed, legs locking around his head while your hand held his head in place. He worked you while you rode out your orgasm on his face until you could barely move.
Bucky got up from his knees, grinning down at you, so weak, you couldn’t muster it in you to glare back.
“Now I think I really fucked the brat out of you,” he said. “What was that?” He cupped his ear. “Did I hear a thank you sir?”
“Thank you, sir,” you whimpered weakly.
You were so fucked out, all the next events were but a blur.
Thor had feasted between your thighs the same as Bucky but was more sloppy, although, your body seemed to love ‘sloppy’. His tongue was constantly lashing and worming around your clit, the wet muscle accompanied by lewd slurping sounds, and in record time, Thor’s suckling and licking had you tensing and building up so much that your orgasm felt like a waterfall crashing over your body.
Steve was just as methodical and precise as Bucky, also pumping his fingers slowly in and out of your pussy. He was sweetly slow, dragging out your pleasure to the point where you were begging him to come. His warm tongue dragged across your sensitive cunt, while another hand reached up to grab a breast and pinch a nipple. You felt like your body was on fire. It wasn’t until Steve had inserted a thumb into your ass that he finally allowed your body sweet sweet release.
Your head span as finally collapsing on Tony’s floor, listening to the muffled voices above you.
You didn’t even register Stark’s words as he announced Thor had won and Steve had come in last. You barely even heard Steve’s defense that he was just enjoying himself too much in the moment.
Although ten-minutes later you had a somewhat sense of clarity, after hearing their conversation, you wished you were just unconscious. Even better, dead.
“I’m tellin’ you man, I made her squirt. She definitely came the hardest with me.” Sam’s voice rang.
“Dude- she was literally grinding against my face and holding me in a headlock with her legs,” Bucky argued.
“I literally made the brat beg to cum,” Steve inserted.
“I’d say that by bringing her to release the fastest, it was most intense with me,” Thor declared, victoriously.
You were on the brink of tears as they talked about you. Until another voice cut into the room. A female voice.
“What do you boys think you’re doing?”
It was Natasha. Your head jolted up as you felt a glimmer of hope surge through you.
That glimmer of hope was quickly extinguished at her next words.
“Not inviting me to the boy’s party?” she scolded. “You think a girl might beat you by a landslide?”
Nat squatted down next to you, running a soft hand on your cheek.
“Well you’re right. I’ll beat Thor’s record and cut it in half.”
She began unbuttoning her pants.
“And I’ll do it while riding her face.”
2K notes · View notes
yourfatherlucifer · 2 years
Text
Afterlife | Wesker x F!Reader Ch.1
Tumblr media
Y/N groaned with a scratch of her head, "Chris, I'm tired, let's please rest. Claire, you agree with me, right?" She pleadfully looked at the female Redfield.
Claire shook her head, "I thought you had tons of energy two minutes ago."
Chris chuckled at his sisters remark. Y/N glared at Chris, slapping the back of his neck.
"OW?! What the hell was that for???" Chris glared back.
"Don't worry about it, Mr Redfield." She clicked her tongue.
Claire was getting annoyed, "Oh my god, why won't you to just have babies already, you both fight like a married couple."
Y/N and Chris looked at Claire, "That's disgusting!" They said in sync with another, before looking at each other in disgust.
Claire rolled her eyes and walked ahead.
"I just want to get out this damn forest already," the tired girl said.
-
The three partners stepped with caution, their guns aimed to the ground, prepared to fire. They were told this building was secretly holding experiments for Umbrella, testing on humans, to further create the zombie virus. To strengthen Ouroboros. One of the people in charge? Albert Wesker. Born in 1960. He's immortal, hasn't aged since, still remains youthful. Difficult to kill, didn't die when fired with rpgs, nor when in lava. Survived everything.
Ouroboros is protecting him, and since his run in with Tyrant, many years ago. Chris Redfield has always fought with Albert Wesker since he can remember.
Y/N and Chris had liked each other in the beginning when they first met, but they bicker too often so they agreed it would never work. Though, they still have hook ups every now and then, its been a few months since the last one. With the virus increasing, they sorta lost interest in it. Plus, they found Claire, so it was hard for them to have alone time.
Claire figured out about their hookups immediately when she reunited with Chris, and met Y/N.
Y/N found out about Claire two years ago, Chris decided to make the hook ups be less frequent, even if they need to relieve themselves. Strictly business now, plus y'know, zombies and all. And the mission to destroy Umbrella Corporation. Sheva had left a long time ago, she was still in Africa, fighting the virus, but decided to split up and stay there while Chris returned to America to find his sister. He ran into Y/N along the way.
The sudden drop of a can startled the three expectant partners. Chris looked at his sister, then Y/N. They nodded to each other, Chris went in first. he raised his gun up in alarm and scanned the area quickly. Claire followed behind, Y/N, shortly after. With this mission at hand, they became stealthy immediately.
They knew that if they split up at this moment, something would probably go wrong, so they stayed together. They formed a half diamond, Chris in front, Claire on the left of Chris, behind him, and Y/N on the right, behind him.
However, they missed one step, they had to have their elbows touching. In order to know your partners are still by you, alive and well. Everyone has to have their elbows touching in the diamond formation.
They had no idea Y/N had stopped, staring in the dark vast in front of her. A pair of red eyes stared at her. The height of the unknown subject must have been at least around 6'1.
She stood in fear, not knowing what to do, she froze up. Chris and Claire continued on, still not realizing they lost their partner.
The figure started to slowly approach her, she was able to move, but only a few steps back. Her eyes widened and her face locked up as she clenched her jaw in fear, she's never been this afraid. In fact, she's never been afraid. Whatever aura this thing was setting off, it scared her to death. The red reflective eyes still remained on her form, but had stopped approaching her. When she fell to the ground on her butt, she began to have an anxiety attack.
Her heart raced desperately as she mentally called for help. She clutched her chest and shut her eyes tightly. Tears began streaming down her face. Her body began to shake violently. All the sudden, she could hear the familiar footsteps of her partners.
"Y/N?!" Chris called out.
Y/N opened her eyes and the figure was gone but her attack still continued.
"C..Chris??!" She managed to choke out.
When he saw her his heart sunk, "Oh, Y/N." He knelt beside her and pulled her to his chest, "What happened?"
She kept staring forward, "Red. Eyes. Big." Y/N breathed out.
She then said something she didn't even think of, "You can't kill it. Never."
Y/N looked at Chris with fear, "You can't kill it." She repeated.
"Kill what? Kill what, Y/N?" Chris asked.
Y/N choked out, "The king who will kill us all."
Chris looked at her dumbfounded, "Come on, we need to go."
Claire helped Y/N stand up, “Time to go.”
-
Alright that’s it for this chapter, let me know what you guys think!
143 notes · View notes
steelycunt · 2 years
Note
Number 3 for the mini fic if you’re interested!
hi! sooo sorry anon i fucking SUCK but i am finishing these now!! and to make up for it this accidentally became over 1k long, so!! here u are im sorry im sorry <3
3. things you said too quietly
“Right!” Marlene calls. Her sing-song voice tumbles in from the living room, splitting through a shimmering haze of cigarette smoke and sweet, liquor-soaked breath: “Not long now, everyone!”
A swell of glittering, slurred cheers rear up to meet her, previously scattered conversations mingling into one, toothy roar of noise. “NINETEEN SEVENTY-FUCKIN’-NINE!” somebody else shrieks back. Everybody sounds strangled, strangely desperate; you’d think the world was ending at midnight, fireworks biting at the sky like asteroids.
Bottles of spirits clutter the kitchen countertops, half-full and garishly colourful. They remind Sirius of a menagerie of exotic birds, though that might just be because he’s vaguely drunk, himself. Either way, he grins, nudges his elbow into Remus’ side. Bony, scrawny thing he is.
“Hear that, Moons?” he drawls. “Nineteen seventy-fuckin’-nine.”
Remus smiles, lopsided. A scabbed-over scar on his cheek is warped by the pit of his dimple. “Mm, quite. I’m impressed that anyone’s still sober enough to keep track.”
Elsewhere, as though in rebuttal, Gudbuy T’Jane is cranked up to ever more obnoxious levels. Remus’ lovely, large nose screws up a little, and—maybe Sirius is more than vaguely drunk, actually, considering the sharp, crackling lurch in his stomach. He wets his lips. I say, Slade yell hoarsely, you’re so young! You’re so young!
Sirius flicks his hair back. When he tips his head back down, the kitchen appears slightly skewed. His mouth feels tacky, gritty with sugar. He asks Remus, “any predictions for the year, then?”
A girl wearing green platform heels stumbles into the kitchen. She snatches up a tall bottle of vivid blue something-or-other, her iridescent nail polish flashing, and then marches back into the sweaty buzz of Marlene and Dorcas’ living room with all the determination of a soldier returning to battle.
They both watch her leave, and then Remus looks back at him, considering his earlier question. “Well. Judging from the strikes,” he says, “I predict that the muggles might get rid of Callaghan, actually.”
“Ah, right.” Sirius nods. “Yeah, that was my fault, I should’ve clarified—I meant, you know, do you have any predictions about things that are interesting, Moons?”
Remus rolls his eyes: “not all of us only read newspapers for the crossword, Padfoot. Did you know? There’s this whole section, see—after the nice shapes and colours—where people write all about the current goings-on—the news, if you will—”
“Oh, fuck, alright. Alright, you prick.” Sirius shakes his head, feigning exasperation. “How about—I predict that you’ll still be an intolerable git in seventy-nine, hm?”
Remus shrugs, folds his arms over his dubiously orange jumper (tonight, he’s paired it with faded stone-grey corduroys; is there any chance at all, Moons, Sirius had teased, that your new year’s resolution is to burn the contents of your wardrobe?). “The odds do look good,” he admits.
They both snicker quietly at that, arms pressed against each other as they stand side by side. Sirius flicks his tongue over his lip ring. There’s a smear of glitter beneath Remus’ ear, left over from hugging Lily at the start of the night. It looks entirely absurd, there, against his freckles and his wool and his dusty brown curls.
If the world really were ending, Sirius thinks, he’d probably still want to be here, right now, in the kitchen.
Wordlessly, Remus bumps his hand against Sirius’, fingers fumbling clumsily over his palm. In seventh year, Sirius’ Muggle Studies professor explained what a good conductor of electricity the human body is—something to do with water content, or whatever it was. Point is, in this moment, Sirius is quite sure he believes it, is quite sure he can feel the current climbing frantically up the length of his arm.
Remus shifts so that they’re facing each other, though his eyes stay fixed somewhere around Sirius’ bare collarbone, blinking quickly. Sirius frowns, catches himself, which is strange, since he hadn’t tripped in the first place. In the living room, the party shouts, “five!”
“Listen, Sirius, I need to—” Remus’ voice is very close. He swallows, and his throat jerks. The sterile, glaring kitchen lights make him look delicate, and jittery; they press bleach-white fingers into the sides of Sirius’ skull, prodding around for the start of a headache. “Four!”
The sight of Remus like this, so obviously, inexplicably nervous, is probably the only thing in the world that’d give Sirius the confidence to take his hand properly, squeeze it. “You alright, Remus?”
“Three!”
And Remus mumbles, “yeah,”, but he’s tapping his thumb erratically against the jutting bone of Sirius’ wrist, “yeah, I just—shit—don’t know why I thought this was—”
“Two!”
“—A good idea, but I s’pose I’m saying it now, so—”
“One!”
“—Sirius, I think I’m in lo—”
“HAPPY NEW YEAR, YOU TOSSERS!”
Just like that: the rest of Remus’ confession—whatever it is, whatever Sirius is desperate to believe it was going to be—is trampled by James’ shout; he barrels into Sirius, brakes cut, elbow sending a bottle of Advocaat hurtling towards the linoleum. Remus jumps backwards to avoid the wreckage—either the yellow puddle of glass shards and liqueur, or the tangled, eight-limbed, six-eyed Potter-Black monster—and has to wrench his hand from Sirius’ grasp in the process.
“Happy New Year!” James cries again, just to drive the message home. His eyes are bright and wide beneath his smudged lenses, gleefully oblivious to the Advocaat spattered thickly up the kitchen cabinets. He jostles Sirius, arm hurled around his shoulders. “Seven—seventy-nine, boys! Right fuckin’ on, hey! Hey!”
“Steady on, Prongs, you pillock.” Sirius steers James away, propping him up against the fridge as he hums a loud, loose rendition of Auld Lang Syne to himself. “Oh, thank fuck Evans’ is the one who’s got to sort you out now…”
“I ought to go and find her,” Remus agrees. In the chaos of James’ entrance, Sirius had forgotten what he’d interrupted, until now. He spins wildly as Remus weaves his way towards the doorway, slouching. His head is lowered.
Abandoning James, Sirius starts after him: “Moons, no, wait! Hang on, you didn’t—” he snags the sleeve of Remus’ jumper, tugs. Remus’ cheeks are pink, though he’s barely had anything to drink at all.
“Hang on, you didn’t, uh…I didn’t hear that last part. I didn’t—what were you about to say, before?”
“Huh?” Remus rubs a hand over the back of his neck, his gaze still evasive. “Oh—you didn’t…you didn’t hear,” he repeats, quiet, seemingly more to himself. His face relaxes. “You didn’t hear. Er, it was—nothing.”
Behind them, James stops humming in order to make a wet retching sound. Sirius does not dare turn around to look. Remus smiles: it’s weak, and there’s no dimple this time.
“It was just—Happy New Year, Sirius,” he says softly. “That’s…that’s all I wanted to say.”
65 notes · View notes
ptergwen · 3 years
Note
I think your requests are open (I didn’t see anything that said otherwise but I suck at this app lol) but I was wondering if you could write a peter x reader (likely college-age) where they have an academic rivalry and just tease each other a lot and lots of fluff and shit? It can be an established relationship or like a friends/rivals to lovers or really whatever you want. Sorry if this is super specific! Anyways, I love your writing, it always cheers me up :)
friends close, enemies closer
Tumblr media
ik this is cherry BUT i had to
w/c: 1.6k
warnings: swearing and hints of suggestiveness
a/n: thank you my love ! i’m actually obsessed with this concept so i’m super super happy with how it came out n i hope you are too :,)
-
you wipe sweat from your upper lip, peeking at peter’s laptop screen. he’s more than halfway through the paper your english professor tasked your class to write. he looks to have not a worry in the world as he continues to type away. growling at this, you dive right back into work.
you’ve been at each other’s throats since the beginning of classes when you both wanted the same spot. first row, middle seat. peter had officially claimed it in the end. you’d flopped down next to him and his irritating smirk.
the dude is smart, you’ll give him that. his knowledge of literature is almost as impressive as yours. almost. he raises his hand any chance he gets, effectively stealing your thunder if you dare to participate.
peter is also a bit of a people pleaser. he’ll chat up your professor at office hours, fascinate her with his hot takes on things or stupid anecdotes. you often get so annoyed that you bail before you even attempt to woo her yourself. the sight of you storming off is something peter thoroughly enjoys.
bottom line is, golden boy peter parker never loses. underneath the sweet, innocent persona he hides behind is a ruthless fighter. you’re determined to end his winning streak, thus sparking your ongoing competition to be better than the other in every way possible.
this time, your goal is to meet your ten page paper requirements the fastest. they aren’t due for weeks, but you and peter are banging them out in one sitting.
you’re hauled up in the campus library, sat side by side despite your wishes for peter to get his own table. he’d insisted on sharing with you. why, you haven’t a clue. you can’t stand him, and he isn’t the fondest of you either.
that’s what you tell yourselves, at least.
“progress report?” peter requests from you. “page three. you?” you grunt back. he props his feet up on the table, arms flexed behind his head. “finishing up page seven. you already knew that, though... creeper.”
god, you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.
you glance over at peter, doing your best to ignore how his biceps bulge under his hoodie. nerdy little parker is ripped.
“worry about yours, i’ll worry about mine. thanks.” you reread the sentence you wrote prior to peter’s chiseled body distracting you. “oh, the irony,” he sighs and nudges the edge of your laptop with his sneaker. scowling, you shift the screen away from him.
about a minute of silence goes by until it’s unfortunately filled by peter. he stretches his arms out, finally removing his dirty shoes from the table.
“i’m gonna take five. maybe, you could use it as an opportunity to catch up to me,” peter cockily suggests. “spare me your charity, peter. i’m doing just fine without it,” you retort, letting out a scoff. peter raises his hands in defense. “if you say so, princess.”
here you were, naively thinking peter couldn’t become any more insufferable than he already is.
you slam your laptop shut and jab a finger at his chest. “jesus christ, how many times do i have to ask you not to call me that?” a patronizing pout adorns peter’s lips. “aw, i love it when you get all bossy on me. so cute.”
he grabs your hand still on his chest, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. you’re quick to wipe it off on his hoodie. nevertheless, there’s an undeniable heat rushing to your cheeks.
“well, i hate it when you call me princess,” you deadpan. peter tilts his head to the side. “do you?”
of course not. deep down, you live for the fuzzy feeling you get whenever the nickname slips from his tongue. oh, his tongue and the things it can do. poking out as he focuses hard on a question, running across his pink lips…
you have to reel it in. this is peter parker you’re fantasizing about, your mortal enemy.
“yes. i hate it, and i hate you,” you unsuccessfully convince the both of you. “no, you don’t,” peter rasps, darkened eyes scanning over your features. his stare is intense and intimidating. he grasps your chin between his thumb and index finger, slowly leaning in closer.
he’s not going to stop until you make him. you don’t want to, but you will.
you shove his shoulder, dragging your laptop towards you again. “on second thought, i could use that catch up. you’re not gonna throw me off my game, parker.”
your rejection seems to disappoint peter. his expression matches that of a kicked puppy, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest.
“we’ll see,” he murmurs and swings a leg over his chair. “alright, i’m gonna run to the caf. you want anything?”
he’s offering to buy you food now? what’s his angle here?
“i’d say yes, but i’m afraid you’ll poison it somehow,” you half joke. peter hops to his feet. “don’t give me any ideas,” he warns, snatching his backpack off the floor. “i’ll just surprise you.”
although you’re curious what his mystery snack choice for you would be, you can’t accept. you’d be going against your entire dynamic.
would that be so terrible?
absolutely.
you wave him off towards the double doors. “i’m good, peter. really. i’m not that hungry, anyway.” shaking his head, peter throws a backpack strap onto one shoulder. “y/n, your stomach’s been grumbling for the last hour. you gotta eat.”
he’s not wrong. you’re starving, but you’ve been too preoccupied by your essay to break for dinner.
“fine, surprise me,” you concede. peter flashes you a smile, this one void of its usual condescendence. “i’ll be back. try not to miss me too much,” he calls as he walks backwards to the library doors. “i won’t. shoo already,” you dismiss him, a laugh falling from your lips.
peter winks at you, then disappears into the night. you’re left with a serious case of butterflies and a certain freckle faced know-it-all on your mind.
that’s a problem.
you’ve managed to get another page done when peter reappears. he sits back down and slides a bag across the table, you closing your laptop. you dig into it to figure out what he picked for you. you’re not too pleased with his selection, however.
“oh, yummy. vomit in a cup,” you announce as you hold a green smoothie in your hand. peter reaches over and pats your thigh. “it’s good for you. drink up, princess.” you slap him away. “hard pass. i’d rather you have gotten me nothing.”
narrowing his eyes, peter pulls two cookies wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. “i’m guessing you don’t want these either? more for me, then.”
they’re chocolate chip and m&m, your favorite in the cafeteria. they just came out of the oven, so they’re still warm.
“how… how did you know i…” you trail off, peter setting the cookies in front of you. he offers you a lopsided grin. “i know a lot about you, believe it or not. i pay attention.” you surprise yourself by returning his smile. “thank you, peter. how much do i owe you?”
“nah, it’s on me,” peter assures you. “enjoy.” pushing aside your unappealing drink, you seize the cookies instead. “you have to eat, too. let me at least split these with you.” there’s a beat before peter nods. “fair enough.”
that results in you two munching on your cookies while pretending to write your papers. you’re sneaking glances at each other whenever the other isn’t looking, in reality.
once it’s about time for the library to close, you’re on the verge of passing out. peter is concluding his essay until he hears a thump from your side of the table.
he finds you with your cheek smushed against your keyboard and hitting random letters, snores escaping you.
chuckling to himself, peter places a hand on your shoulder. “hey, y/n?” he speaks in a hushed tone. you awake with a gasp, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. “easy there, princess. it’s only me.” he rubs circles on your back, and it’s oddly comforting.
“keep doing that,” you purr, momentarily forgetting how much you’re supposed to despise peter. he lets his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your lower back. “we should probably head out. it’s kinda late,” peter decides.
you sit up, bones aching and eyes forced open. “not yet. have to beat you first.” you start to delete the gibberish you accidentally typed. peter cups your cheek to turn your head towards him, your movements halting. “this one’s a tie. you did good, y/n/n,” he coos. “finish the rest another day.”
“why’re you being so nice to me?” you nearly whisper. peter uses his thumb to swipe the drool from your lips. “‘cuz i care about you. i might not show it, but i do,” he admits with the hint of a smile. “besides, i need you… for the, uh, the healthy competition.”
laughing softly, you twist his hoodie strings around your fingers and tug. “your intentions are pure as always. sure that’s all you need me for?” peter’s gaze darts to your lips, then your eyes. “we’ll see,” he repeats.
rivalry be damned.
“mm. i care about you too, parker. thanks again for tonight,” you hum. a blush coats peter’s cheeks, even in the dim library lighting. his sweet and innocent side might truly exist. “no problem.” peter links your pinkie with his, the gesture giving you that fuzzy feeling. “i’ll walk you back to your dorm?”
you lean over and kiss his pinkie intertwined in yours.
“lead the way.”
389 notes · View notes
gagmebucky · 3 years
Note
your last post... can we see it 👉👈
Tonight, you’re on cleaning duty.
The chores are split up weekly. You and your roommate alternate between cleaning and cooking; it’s a perfect arrangement. Neither of you are the messy type, and you have similar taste palates, plus you enjoy each other’s company.
You’ve had a number of roommates, and he easily blows them out of the water. Hands down the perfect living companion, your living preferences are the same and synchronized immediately after you moved in. Rather than just being two people who room together, you’ve become good friends.
So you don't mind either chore. In fact, there’s a sense of pride in it. At six o’clock in the evening, you’ve swept, dusted and washed everywhere. It’s not a hard job, and you’re finished quickly. But not quite, not quite, because you like going the extra mile when it comes to the kitchen.
The dishes are done and dried, groceries stowed away in the fridge and cupboards, and counters wiped down. The checkered floors are what you’re working on, once again not expected but you’re thorough and there’s reminiscents of your last cooking endeavor which ended with food flying everywhere.
On all fours, your hair is collected low down your back while your knees dig into cushioned microfiber towels and you scrub the tiles bright white and opaque black. You’ve cleared row after row, and you’re hoping to be finished before he arrives.
But the front door opens, and you hear his combat boot-clad footsteps pad in behind you. Bucky doesn’t walk all the way in, and you don’t need to look back to know he’s leaning against the archway, head tilted while he watches you work, unusually silent but characterically observant of you.
For some reason, you’re flustered. Although you’ve been in revealing clothing before, worse than this, you get a little flustered. The oversized tee does little to hide your ass or your workout shorts, a black pair that hovers at the crease of your cheeks.
Then you remind yourself who it is, your roommate-slash-best friend, a wholesome man who opens doors for you, never forgetting please and thank you. That relaxes you; although he’s a man, certainly not one affected by your swaying hips on every circular swipe.
“Hey,” you speak first, a little breathless, not bothering to look up at him. “I’ll be finished in a sec, if you wanted to w. . .”
Your words trail off when his shadow casts over you—you didn’t even hear him approach—and he’s a breadth away. You don’t have time to look up before his hand twists in your hair, tightens and roughly wrenches your head back. A sharp pain in your neck and a delicious sting in your scalp as your roommate forces you to look at him and only him.
Cerulean blue sparkles with your gasp, blatantly hungry gaze running down your bared throat and cleavage in a loose tee. His mouth quirks to one side, pink tongue swiping over his lower lip, expression otherwise mild mannered like this is casual.
Hair pulled, your body has the instinctive reaction to submit, wide-eyed and at the mercy of the person above you. The shock still seizes you but it’s in the backseat while heat pulses in your center. You’re half-kneeling, careening backward into his unspoken will.
He cranes down, all handsome and wicked a few centimeters away. “You know,” he says like a realization, letting the mint-toned words fan over your lips, “this the perfect position for you to suck my cock. I mean, I could just unbutton my jeans…” His other hand is underneath your chin, thumb gently prying your lips open and rubbing over your tongue. “…and slide right over your soft lil’ tongue ‘til it's my cum you’re cleaning up. That’d be fun, wouldn’t it?”
Your heart drums a beat to disbelief and arousal. How are you supposed to react to that? There’s the appropriate response to jerk away, and there’s the bodily reaction where
Your heart hammers, and you don’t realize you’re holding in a breath. What are you supposed to say—how do you react to that? You don’t know but disbelief at his gall and arousal at his actions wrap around you hotly. All you can do is stare up at him like a deer in headlights, his tangled fingers easing your face closer so his lips can kiss the button of your nose.
Then he lets go.
With a soft chuckle, he releases you and turns toward the refrigerator like nothing happened. “So, I’m thinking orange chicken,” he suggests, glancing over the contents of frozen foods, cool as a cucumber while you’re caught between admonishing him for such a display and begging him to soothe the ache pulsing in your center. “I wanted to make your favorite.”
Did he just—yes, he did—what are you gonna d—I don’t know, your thoughts are running ragged, it turned you on—shut up!—but—
You shake off your thoughts and try to consider the question. “Um…” you say dumbly. It’s such a mundane question. If it wasn’t for the slickness gathered in your center and your desperately clenched thighs, you might think the whole thing was imagined.
“Thanks for cleaning, by the way,” he adds with a boyish beam. “I know we’re supposed to, or whatever, but I still appreciate it. You really make the place feel like a home rather than just somewhere you live. So thank you.”
There’s no mistaking the honesty in his words, and it’s such a juxtaposition to what just happened that you decide that it’s a one time thing, firmly—weakly. Or maybe it was a fevered daydream, something built up when bunking with someone so attractive physically and mentally. Surely, he wasn’t hinting at facefucking you in the middle of the kitchen and cumming down your throat so much it dribbles out of your mouth.
You swallow and clear your throat, nodding but it’s a little frantic. Now, he’s looked back, lifting a brow like he doesn’t know why you’re flustered. There’s a twinkle, though, amused and maybe a little satisfied. He’s still awaiting your response and rather than raise any objections, you answer, “Y - yeah. That sounds good.”
255 notes · View notes
captains-simp · 4 years
Text
Carol Danvers ~ Sister's Best Friend
Tumblr media
Carol Danvers X Natasha's Sister Reader Smut
Word count: 3,589
Includes: fingering, oral and face sitting
[ masterlist ]
Buy me a coffee ☕
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You groaned as you heard your sister's bed hitting the wall repeatedly and the occasional loud moan. She really had no shame, or consideration.
It was annoying enough for you that she was interrupting Teenage Bounty Hunters but did she really have to give you this reminder of how single you were? It had been way too long since you got laid.
It was rare to have the opportunity to spend time with your sister. Her work life as an Avenger dug into her personal life big time but despite being a huge work-o-holic, Natasha refused to ever let it ruin the irreplaceable relationship you too had.
So of course you had lept at the chance to go away with her for a week. You knew she was going to bring Wanda; you weren't mad at that though, in fact you were ecstatic because you loved to see your sister in the company of someone she was able to connect with in ways no one else could. They made each other happy, and it made you happy to see. (Although you weren't appreciating hearing the evidence of their sex life.)
But your sister had failed to inform you Carol would also be staying with you. You knew a lot people would give their left arm to be in Carol's company for a week. But you had had a crush on the blonde hero for so long you struggled to be around her without becoming a flustered mess.
Nat knew this. Everyone who knew you knew this. Except Carol. It was hard to cover up the intense blushing and stumbling of words that only occurred when Carol was flirting or just being near you.
Despite Nat's constant teasing about it and pushing you to do something about your crush on her friend, you knew nothing would ever come of it. Carol seemed like a worse work-o-holic than Nat. Definetly not someone who was looking for a relationship. At least, that was what you had assumed.
With a heavy sigh, you turned up the volume on the television but the thudding continued to echo around the house making you cover your ears with your hands and stare at the television.
"Fuck her and her great sex life." You mumbled begrudgingly but froze when you heard a familiar laugh that made your stomach flip.
"You never heard them before?" Carol asked as she leant against the door frame and looked at you with an amused grin.
You had to remind yourself to breathe for a moment as you realized your crush was standing a foot away from you in only an oversized shirt and shorts that you couldn't see. It was only an assumption she even had them on.
You blushed slightly and stared at the tv again - afraid she would notice that your gaze had lingered a little too long on her long, toned legs, afraid she somehow knew you had imagined those legs around your head for a split second.
"Er no." You laughed nervously. What the fuck was wrong with you?! Carol may be an enhanced human, but she was still human. You should be able to function around a human, even if she was illegally hot.
You were caught off guard when Carol slumped down on the sofa next to you; her shirt riding up enough for you to realise she was not, in fact, wearing shorts. You gulped and figited slightly on the sofa.
"I've lost count but my god it doesn't get any less annoying. They're always sneaking off at parties thinking no one can hear, they're lucky I always distract people to another area so they never get busted. Not even a thank you." Carol huffed before glancing at the TV that was showing some sort of action scene now, it was hardly something you were going to pay attention to now.
"She can be inconsiderate." You nodded. "One time I made extra cookies and without even asking she just took the extra ones." You recalled sadly, still mourning the loss of that perfect batch.
You instantly stopped when you realised the two things had zero correlation and you must have appeared just as annoying as your sister to Carol. But when you glanced over at her you saw she was smiling at you in that impossibly cute way made the smile lines around her eyes prominent.
"You must have been livid." She joked. You could only nod.
Your conversation had apparently come to an end and the only thing filling the silence was the TV and the occasional moan. At least the bed had stopped thudding.
You suddenly wondered if Carol felt uncomfortabke being there. Did she want to leave? Should you offer to drive her? You glanced over at her only to see she was already looking at you. Studying you. As though those piercing brown eyes could see every inch of your soul. You felt extremely nervous under her gaze and you hated the familiar feeling of your face heating up. Yet you couldn't help but sneak a glance back at the blonde woman.
She had a mischievous smirk across her lips that made her look more kissable than usual. You gulped as she shifted closer to you on the sofa while you kept your eyes glued to the tv, even when you felt her soft fingers dance lightly on your leg.
You wanted to melt from the simple touch because - unlike her - you were wearing shorts and having your legs crossed made them rise up way too much.
Her warm breath tickled your neck and sent goosebumps throughout your body and left your core throbbing for attention. You hated that it was so easy for her to have that effect on you.
Carol's fingers become a little less light and were now starting to caress your lower thigh. Your breathing increased rapidly along with your need for her but you didn't dare voice those thoughts. Even when her palm came into contact with your skin and pressed down firmly.
"Do I make you nervous, y/n?" She whispered into your ear softly and you couldn't respond. You couldn't get yourself to produce any words as you were so caught up in the movements from her hand.
Carol chuckled slightly and you felt your body become weak from the simple sound. She bit down on your earlobe softly and you had to bite on your lip to stop a moan escaping your mouth.
The gorgeous woman pulled away slightly to look you dead in the eye and your breath caught in your throat. Her eyes seemed darker than usual; as though she was planning a crime in her head and you found yourself thinking you would go along with whatever she asked of you.
Her brown eyes travelled down your face and once they arrived at your lip that was still captured between your teeth she groaned in frustration.
Before you could question what she was doing she pushed you down and pinned you against the arm rest of the sofa. You winced at the pain in your back but found the heat between your legs ignite like a fire and couldn't stop the slight moan.
You widened your eyes in shock at what you'd done but quickly shut them when you felt her soft lips collide with your own. She kissed you desperately, as though she was finally getting something she had wanted for a long time and you didn't hesitate to return the pace and even laced your fingers in her long, silky hair. You tried to push her towards you more but she pulled away to your disappointment.
"Fuck. Finally." She muttered as she positioned herself to straddle your waist then returned to you. Except her lips went past your own and instead attached them to your neck.
You moaned loudly as you felt her come into contact with your sweet spot so quickly. She took this with a new kind of vigour and bit down on the spot making you grip her hair harshly.
The blonde hero then sucked on your skin and you didn't question it for a moment, too caught up in the feeling of her lips against your own and wondering how amazing it would feel if she did that motion somewhere else.
When she pulled away she gazed down at your neck with a proud smirk and traced the mark gently with her finger then kissed you on the lips quickly.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." She said with a slight laugh.
"Kiss me?" You asked hopefully and she nodded as she leant back to sit on your waist.
"That and mark you as mine." You couldn't help but get extremely turned on at her words. "I've wanted you for the longest time now, y/n." She admitted with confidence as she played with the hem of your shirt, pulling it up slightly to exposed the lower half of your stomach.
She put both hands on your stomach and ran them across the exposed skin. It felt like you were on fire. The contact was one you had craved from her for a while.
"Me too." You said breathlessly, still not over how her lips had felt against my neck. Carol caught onto this and tore her gaze away from your stomach to look at you.
"Breathless already?" You blushed at her question and turned your head to the side.
She moved to lay against you and kissed your jaw as her hands wondered up your shirt, your mind too clouded to remember you weren't wearing a bra under your bed clothes.
However, this fact was brought to your attention when you felt her soft hands cup your breasts under your top. Your eyes shot open and she moaned slightly against you as she felt your hardened nipples that were begging to be touched by her.
She granted their wish and pinched them lightly between her thumb and finger making you moan out in response. She did all this while kissing down your neck again and leaving more hickeys on either side.
Your back arched slightly from the attention and you pulled her face towards yours to kiss her again. She happily obliged to this and bit down softly on your lip. You moaned slightly and parted your lips to let her tongue roam your mouth. Your tongues danced together before Carol's tongue brushed along your teeth and the roof of your mouth, only pulling away to breath before attaching your lips again.
Her hands wondered back down your stomach and rested at the hem of your shorts. You were caught off guard by her hand wondering further only to pull the elastic of your panties towards her and let them go so they snapped against your skin.
You whimpered a little at the motion making Carol smirk against you. She started to massage your upper thighs firmly, occassionly letting her fingers under your shorts only to retract soon after.
You were starting to get frustrated at the repetitive action, wanting her fingers to go further and stay there.
Carol tapped either side of your hips lightly and it took you a moment to understand what she meant. You lifted your hips slightly and moaned when you felt your cores rub together for a split second. Carol pulled your shorts down to your ankles and flung them across the room, not caring about them now they were separated from you.
She stopped kissing you to look at your now bare legs and rested her hand on your panties, letting her finger dip slightly to feel the outline of your pussy lips and the soaked fabric that covered them.
Carol groaned when she realised how wet you were and looked up at you with a dark glint in her eye that was unmistakably lust.
"Is this all for me?" She whispered as she rubbed you through your panties making you squirm slightly beneath her, hating that there was a barrier between you.
"Yes." You breathed out and tried to push your hips up into her but she placed a hand on either side and firmly pushed you back down.
Her dominance only turned you on more as you lay waiting for her to stop her sweet torture and finally give you what you wanted.
Her fingers travelled along the elastic of your panties and she dipped a finger in to stroke your lower lips. You tried to hold your moans back but this was apparently the opposite of what the blonde wanted.
She grabbed your chin in her free hand so you had to look at her, hovering over you like an angel.
"Don't stop yourself. I want to hear those pretty little moans of yours." You could only whimper out a response as you nodded your head eagerly.
Suddenly, you felt a single finger slip into your pussy and you couldn't help but moan out loudly.
It had been so long since you had been touched there, and the fact that it was by someone as beautiful as Carol made things even hotter.
"Good girl." Carol growled with satisfaction and kissed you hard as she slipped her finger fully into you.
You tangled your fingers into her hair again to hold her close to you as she pulled her finger out only to have it return quickly, not realising that everytime she did her palm would press against your clit making the pleasure increase.
She pulled your panties down with her free hand and you eagerly spread your legs in response to give her better access. As soon as you did she slipped a second finger inside with ease and pumped it into you in unison with the first.
"So fucking wet." She muttered between kisses and you moaned more as you felt a gush of wetness hit her fingers at those words.
She started to speed up as her thrusts became harsher, slamming into you at a pace that mirrored you heartbeat.
You started to rock with hips along with her thrusts, desperate to feel as much of her as you could and almost screamed when you felt her fingers curl up to hit your g-spot. It made my body resonate with fire and you threw your head back in pleasure, not believing you were being fingered by someone so beautiful and skilled.
When she pushed a third finger into you you moaned louder and gripped onto the back of her shirt to try to handle the intense amount of pleasure you were feeling. It was like you needed something to help you hold onto reality while the girl ontop of you was rocking your world.
From that reaction, Carol started to fuck you at a harder, rougher pace. Everytime her fingers hit the edge of your pussy you couldn't help but cry out her name along with a string of moans and profanities.
You didn't want it to end, but the pressure was starting to build up in my core, Carol could tell by your walls squeezing around her fingers.
Your body's desperate attempt to keep her inside of you was futile as she instead took this with a new kind of vigour and fucked you faster.
"Carol...please...don't stop!" You begged not caring how you sounded. You just needed her with you, ontop of you and inside you to help you through the high you were about to experience.
"Cum for me." She encouraged and bit down on the top of your neck. With a caress of her fingers you came undone beneath her, screaming her name as you came harder than you ever had before.
You continued to cling onto her back as she helped you through your orgasm by slowing her pace and watching you experience that extreme amount of pleasure that was caused by her.
You kept your eyes shut as you tried to regain your breathing. You were so focused on that and your now throbbing pussy that you were hardly aware of Carol's weight leaving you.
When your eyes finally fluttered open you saw that she had positioned herself between your legs - just inches away from your pussy - and was looking up at you with her signature mischievous grin as she licked each of her fingers clean.
You knew it was her pre-warning that she wasn't done. You were so exhausted that with any other person you would deny them any more, but the after effects of your orgasm were enough to remind you of how she could make you feel with her fingers. You were dying to know what she could do with her tongue.
Carol smirked when you nodded your head and kissed her inner thighs, working her way closer to your core. She flicked her tongue against your bundle of sensitive nerves causing you to lean back and grip onto her hair again as you watched her.
You could feel her smirk against you as she ran her tongue up through your folds then latched onto your clit, sucking hard as you moaned loudly and wrapped your legs around her head to push her into you as much as possible. You wanted to feel her tongue against every inch of your core.
At that thought, she sunk her tongue into you, making you gasp out at the motion before throwing your head back to moan in unison with her.
Feeling the vibrations from her mouth enhanced the pleasure that you could only express by pulling on her hair harder and squeezing your thighs around her.
Her tongue roamed your pussy like she was trying to memorize every inch of it and you loved it. The muscle moved around desperately, hitting all the right spots that made you shudder.
Every time her tongue pressed on one of those areas she withdrew to bite down on your lips making you groan from such an amazingly sharp pain. You couldn't help but wonder if she had a biting fetish or something - not that you were complaining.
Once her tongue dove into your core again you felt her thumb press firm circles around your clit that made your hips raise off of the sofa.
Carol withdrew her thumb to push your hips down again and held you there as her tongue continued to work wonders inside you.
You could feel yourself start to get close to your second orgasm with Carol as your walls started to clench around Carol's tongue, hoping it would stay inside you but instead pushing it out.
She brought her thumb up to your clit again and pressed down directly on it making you moan louder than before and arch you back in ecstasy as you came on Carol's tongue.
You gripped her hair and squeezed your thighs, desperate to keep the beautiful hero where she was to help you ride out your high.
Carol happily accepted this as you felt her tongue desperately move around inside of you in an attempt to get to every last bit of cum she made you release.
She then licked up your lips one last time before lifting herself up to grin triumphantly at you.
You smiled back and - despite your exhaustion - pulled her up with her legs either side of me and guided her towards your head.
She smirked as she realised what you wanted to do before giving you a questioning look.
"Aren't you tired?" You nodded. "That's why I'm staying laying down." You stated matter-of-factly as you pulled her panties, eager to see and taste her.
The moment you pulled her onto your mouth she gasped out. You didn't hesitate to suck on her clit softly, loving the initial taste of her wetness. You got the response you were hoping for and felt her hold onto your hair as she adjusted her position slightly.
You then licked up her folds and moaned at the sweet taste of her that instantly left you wanting more. You sucked on her folds to further please your taste buds and her as you gripped her butt.
You then bravely dipped your tongue inside her earning a loud moan from the woman ontop of you. She started to grind herself onto your tongue and you smiled proudly as you pushed your tongue the rest of the way in and relished in the taste of Carol.
After a few minutes of altering between sucking on her folds and sinking your tongue into her, Carol started to moan your name like a prayer. It was music to your ears that made your stomach flip and core start to heat up again.
Her movements against your mouth started to become more erratic and you knew with one swipe of your tongue you could make her come undone above you.
Excited at the possibility, you sucked on her clit harshly and heard her scream your name before feeling her warm liquid on your tongue that you eagerly lapped up.
Carol shuddered ontop of you before letting go of your hair and falling down beside you.
"Guess we're the inconsiderate ones for once." Carol laughed, you felt yourself blush as you realized just how loud you had both been. Although you didn't regret a second of it.
"Stay in my room tonight?" You asked with a burst of confidence.
Carol smiled at you and leaned over to kiss you on the lips passionately.
"I would love to." She smirked. You smiled at her answer as you wrapped your arms around her neck before falling into another deep kiss that wouldn't be the last.
892 notes · View notes
lonely-lost-soul · 4 years
Text
Under The Floorboards (Pt. VIII)
(Technoblade x Reader) First Part: Pt. 1 Latest: Pt.VX
Tumblr media
(Feel free to play this while listening to this chapter! Full credit to @Alexx-Kun on Wattpad for suggesting this gorgeous song)
https://youtu.be/kCV4JUqGr64
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Day 1: Forgiveness
Step one you needed to find a venue, you had assigned Ranboo as your honorary maid of honor. The young boy was just as thrilled as he was confused, did you not have any other friends? You were Technoblade’s perfect match if that was the case. Ranboo had no problem voicing that to you and you pouted at him, you argued that everyone who lived with Techno was antisocial. He reluctantly agreed and you smiled proudly, he rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder with his hand. You laughed, glad you were sitting down, or else you would’ve for sure fallen. Technoblade and you had decided to split the jobs for the wedding between the both of you. You were in charge of the invitations and flowers, basically anything to do with decorating and interacting with other humans. Technoblade meanwhile was in charge of the venue and the official rings, it’s not that you didn’t trust him with more duties it was more that he didn’t trust himself. That and he also believed that you both could just get married in the woods. You at least wanted a small wedding with a few people you cared about, you rubbed your pointer finger and thumb together with a frown.
    “You alright?”
     “Just thinking about the invitations. Who will come...stuff like that.” Ranboo glanced over at the minuscule stack of letters by the table, it was clearly small, but Ranboo hand wrote them for you in swirl print. They better show up, Ranboo would be pissed if they didn’t, he put a lot of work into those invites.
    “They’ll come.” He nodded his head picking them up with his claws, one was for Tommy, another was for Ghostbur, and Ranboo also suggested an invite for Captain Puffy he figured the both of you would get along considering you both had a habit for adopting misfits. You also needed a female friend. “We can deliver them and search for flowers, then tomorrow we can search for a dress for you that sounds okay right?”
    “For someone with such a bad memory, you’re surprisingly good at planning,” You watched the boy preen at your compliment.
     “Thank you, I also figured we can use the stasis chamber so you only have to walk one way with your ankle.”
     “Smart boy.”
    “Why thank you,” Ranboo smiled proudly over at you reaching out his hand for you to take. You grabbed it and he pulled you to his feet, he kept his hand interlocked with yours, it was minuscule in comparison to the half enderman’s. “Ready?”
     “Ready.”
Slowly but surely the two of you made your way over to the nether portal and into the once-great country. Ranboo placed his hand on your lower back and helped guide you through the rubble of the city. He knew much better than you did where everyone resided, even if you didn’t meet them face to face you’d make a chest and drop it off. Ironically the first person you ran into was the woman Ranboo insisted you meet, Captain Puffy. She’s gorgeous, was your first thought, she was some form of a sheep hybrid dressed like a pirate, two of your favorite things, sorry Technoblade you might’ve met your new wife. You talked with her well into the afternoon, she was just so easy to talk to,
    “Can I just say I feel like I’ve known you forever,” She gushed, taking your hands within her own and squeezing fondly. “I’m so happy Ranboo has found someone to watch out for him,” Ranboo flushed in response but didn’t argue against Puffy’s words which warmed your heart.
     “I’m happy too. I just want to help these kids in whatever way I can,” You smiled a little forlornly thinking once again of the obnoxious blonde. “They just don’t deserve all the shit they have to deal with, they’re kids you know? They should be living their lives.”
    “Yeah keep talking like I’m not here,” Ranboo mused over your shoulder which caused you to laugh with a shake of your head, “no need to stop please continue.” Puffy smiled at the both of you,
     “She’s right though Ranboo. You should be out causing mischief or getting into trouble, not fighting in a never-ending war.”
    “Oof getting into trouble? No thank you, I just wanna tend to my pets and go on adventures with my friends.”
     “You’ll get to do that I promise. Once my ankles healed we’ll go woodland mansion hunting, I’ve been to a few in my time. They’re a lot of fun.”
     “Really?”
     “Yeah of course!” You beamed and Ranboo smiled right back at you, he brought his journal out of his bag and quickly scribbled something down in it. In the end, Puffy ended up accepting the invitation with a blinding smile,
     “You’re going to be a gorgeous bride. Could I bring my girlfriend Niki? You’ll love her!”
     “I don’t see why not. I can’t wait to meet her!” You assumed Technoblade wouldn’t mind one more person, especially because he’s never mentioned Niki which was a good thing in your eyes. Usually, if Technoblade talked about you, it was because he wasn’t a fan. You all said your goodbyes, you felt warm inside you couldn’t believe you were about to have TWO friends who are girls.
     “Soooooo?”
     “I love her.”
     “Told you so,” Ranboo smirked. He was proud of himself for forcing someone else to socialize so he didn’t have to. Ranboo was relieved that list of people to invite wasn’t long; considering Technoblade had more enemies than friends. The only thing that rubbed him the wrong way was he didn’t even know that you had invited Tommy in the first place.
So if Tommy did show up, your wedding might be a bloodbath.
You and Ranboo stood outside of Tommy’s house, he glanced down at you and watched your hands clench the envelope. He brought his hands over yours and rubbed them gently, you looked up at him with wide eyes.
     “Deep breath and relax okay? He’s Tommy so I won’t say he won’t flip out at you, but I can say you’re a wonderful friend, you’ll be fine.”
     “I can’t believe Mr. Panic Room is telling me to relax.” You let out a nervous laugh, he made an offended face.
     “Ya know what, never helping you again. You can walk home.”
     “Ranboo it was a joke!”
     “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you stuck your tongue out and headed up to Tommy’s door and knocked. You already knew Tommy might not even be home, the boy was a wanderer by nature. Yet, much to your surprise, the door opened with a loud BANG, and in the doorway stood Tommy looking better than you’ve seen him in all the time he spent with you and Technoblade.
     “Hi, Tommy.”
     “(Y/N)?” He blinked looking surprised before he steeled his face, “What’re you doing here wench!” Tommy pointed an accusatory finger at you and you raised an eyebrow,
Wench?
That wasn’t going to fly.
    “Try again.”
Tommy sputtered as you narrowed his eyes accusingly, his eyes trailed down to the netherite sword at your side. His entire demeanor changed when he spotted it at your side,
     “(Y/N)! My friend! Good to see you! How’ve you been? Good? Good!” The boy rambled wrapping an arm around your shoulder with a big smile, there’s the Tommy you remembered. “I’m sure you’re doing good fo’ sho’! Now what do, I owe this pleasure women!”
    “I wanted to invite you to Technoblade and I’s wedding,” Your voice was soft and hesitant, holding out the invitation out to him. The teenager blinked a few times before taking it from your hands, he flipped it over confusion was etched deep on his brow.
    “You’re getting married? To Technoblade? He’s going to have a wife and I’m not?”
You blinked a few times trying to process what Tommy said, was he more mad at the fact that Technoblade was getting married in the first place? “Well yeah, considering I’m his fiance and all…”
    “That motherfucker! He gets to have a wife! I want a wife! (Y/N) acquire me a wife!”
You let out howling laughter at his response, tossing your arms around the boy, he went silent and a confused look came across his face. His ears turned red as he looked over at Ranboo with a face that screamed help me, Ranboo simply looked away holding up a prominent middle finger at the boy. “Okay, okay! Enough hugs,” Tommy ranted shoving you away from him with a huff, “I don’t know what’s so funny about me needing a wife.”
    “You’ll find a wife eventually,” You couldn’t help but smile as he frowned down at you. “So? Can you make it?” Voice quiet as you looked up at him, the nervousness from before creeping back into your body, he chewed on his bottom lip while looking at you. Tommy wasn’t about to be soft while Ranboo was standing less than a foot away so he did the next best thing which was whacking you on top of the head.
    “I-well-...” Tommy rubbed the back of his neck looking nervous for the first time in his life, “I can’t.” He saw your face fall and he grabbed your shoulders tightly, “Not because I don’t want to! I… I guess you’re not TERRIBLE.” He admitted begrudgingly, “Tubbo and I...we have some unfinished business we need to deal with before things get any worse for people.”
     “I don’t know what you mean Tommy.” You suddenly grew very concerned, “You don’t have to hold the entire world on your shoulders.”
     “Yeah, I do,” Tommy responded with enough seriousness to shake you to your core, you didn’t know about his past with the discs fully, but you knew enough to know this situation was about that. “Just know I’m happy for you, seriously I am,” He gave you a sad smile.
    “Stay safe Tommy. Please don’t be stupid.”
     “I’m never stupid you BITCH!”
     “Call me a bitch again you BRAT!”
     “MAKE ME!”
You frowned, hitting him in the side so he would double over, while he gripped his stomach you pulled him into a headlock and began digging your knuckles into his skull. “Apologize!”
     “NEVER!”
Ranboo looked sheepish as he stared at the scene, his shoulders slumping forward. “(Y/N) we have a schedule-” Reluctantly you released Tommy and he stumbled back, he huffed dusting off his shirt. You smiled slightly over at the boy,
     “See you soon raccoon boy,” you gave him a proud salute.
     “Hasta La Vista Miss Blade,” Tommy responded, saluting you right back.
You turned away from the boy and headed back over to Ranboo’s side, “You ready?” You nodded in response with a little smile on your lips. “Good. Next, up is Ghostbur right? We need to find him.”
     “If we can locate Friend we can locate him.”
It took a while, but eventually, you and Ranboo found Ghostbur and Friend wandering around a forest nearby the crater. Immediately spotting you a bright smile spread across the ghost’s face, “(Y/N)!” He shouted, throwing his hand in the air with a wave, “How’re you doing darling!”
    “I’m good Ghostbur! Have you met Ranboo?”
     “Briefly. Nice to see you again!”
     “Ugh, ditto,” Ranboo responded with a shy smile shuffling a little behind you.
You smiled and pulled an envelope out from your bag, you held it out to him.
     “You and Friend good sir, are invited to Technoblade and I’s wedding.” He gasped loudly, eyes lighting up with pure and utter joy,
     “Technoblade getting married! Oh my god, that’s phenomenal! You’re going to make the most beautiful bride,” he praised excitedly as your face turned red at the compliments, “Gosh, you two are so lovely together, I wouldn’t miss this for the world! Do you have a dress? You have to show me!”
You rubbed the back of your head, rocking on your heels, “Well...about that.”
     “Do not tell me you don’t have a DRESS?” He practically yelled crossing his arms, “I’m disappointed in you!”
      “It’s in two days Ghostbur! I had no time! I’ll make do with something. I’m sure I have an old dress somewhere-”
     “UNACCEPTABLE!” He grabbed at your hands, “I’m getting you a dress. I’ll meet you at Technoblade’s tomorrow, just hold on!” Ghostbur ran his hand through Friend’s wool with a smile, “You’re going to be one of the most gorgeous brides, only second to Sally.”
     “Well I’m honored, I’ll see you then.” You smiled adoringly at the little ghost as he floated off his sheep buddy by his side.
    “Do you think he’s getting you a dress?”
     “I have no idea,” You responded with a shrug, “It’s sweet he’s willing to put in the effort though.”
      “Or creepy.”
     “It’s sweet you jerk,” You nudged him with your arm Ranboo smiled,
    “I’m just glad it’s off our to-do list for tomorrow.”
     “True that means you can sleep in,” You teased as his multicolored eyes lit up,
    “Hell yeah.”
~~~
Day 2: Ghostbur’s Gift
You woke up to sleepy kisses and tender touches, one of the loveliest ways to wake up if you might add.
    “Morning big guy,” You cooed fondly as he made a soft purr-like sound in his throat. You turned over to face him and he immediately pressed a kiss to your lips. The voices couldn’t help but point out how cute you looked in the morning.
    “Helloooo...How’s your ankle?” He asked his thumb brushing against your cheek, closing your eyes you let out a soft,
    “Much better.”
    “Good, I heard from Ranboo Ghostbur’s supposedly stopping by today. Any particular reason?”
     “He says he has a dress I can wear for tomorrow.”
    “How does he have a dress exactly?”
    “No idea, but I’m going with it.”
     “If you’re sure. Just don’t look bad.” You frowned and bonked him on the side of his head, “it was a joke!”
     “It better be a joke or I’m leaving your ass. I look good in everything so fuck off.” You hissed as Technoblade groaned,
     “Heard you loud and clear Princess. Scouts honor, you’re the most beautiful girl to me you know that.”
    “I do. Just don’t joke around like that, makes me feel bad okay?”
He frowned a little and moved to hover over you, his hair framed his face and fell past his shoulders. It tickled your cheeks and you ran your hands through it meeting anything but his eyes suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Technoblade kissed the tip of your nose,
     “Hey, Princess look at me.”
Turning your head towards his voice, the two of you locked eyes, a sense of calm washed over you, the only thing in his eyes was pure, unadulterated love.
     “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world to me. No matter what I’m always going to think that you are, you could grow a third eye and I’d still want to marry you tomorrow. I’m sorry I made you feel bad, it was a joke but I won’t make it again. I swear.” You felt your eyes water as you tossed your arms around his neck, the sudden movement caused him to fall forward crushing you beneath him.
    “I love you too bubba. Thank you for listening to me.”
     “That’s part of my job idiot.”
You smiled against his neck and held him tighter, Technoblade reciprocated the hug and decided the both of you could stay in bed just a little while longer. The two of you shared soft kisses, every once in a while Technoblade would reinforce how precious you were to him, eventually, it all got to be too much and you shoved your hands in his face.
     “Enough is enough! I’m embarrassed now.” Technoblade laughed at your flustered expression and pressed a fond kiss to your lips, obviously you kissed him back, your fingers threading through his hair.
      “Princess…” He let out a pleased sound in the back of his throat, “you’re making it hard to get out of bed. I still have some stuff set up for tomorrow and you gotta look out for Wilbur.”
     “Or hear me out. You can stay in bed with me all day, and keep giving me kisses,” You pressed your lips to his own before whispering in his ear, “Anywhere you’d like.” You nipped teasingly at his earlobe and suddenly felt the heat radiating off his face. As you expected his face was a deep red color and you felt his head fall against your shoulder,
    “You’re going to kill me.” You only laughed in response, finally pulling away from him you swung your feet over the side of the bed, “you can’t just say that and walk away.” He whined loudly with a little pout on his lips, “Especially since I won’t see you until the wedding.”
     “Suck it up buttercup,” You stuck your tongue out at the man “I’ll just be at Ranboo’s if something goes wrong I’ll be within reach.” He reached his hand up and threaded his fingers through your hair, you sighed pleasantly at the physical touch, “I love you.”
      “Love you too, see you tomorrow.” You gave him one last fleeting kiss before standing up leaving the warmth of the covers and your half-naked fiance behind much to your dismay. You tossed one of Technoblade’s old shirts over your head, it came down past your knees and Technoblade let out a happy sigh from behind you. You let out a little laugh, looking at him over your shoulder his eyes were half-lidded as he stared at your now bare legs. “Hold on don’t change just yet I wanna stare a little bit longer.”
     “Perv.” You snickered ignoring his wishes and sliding on a pair of pants, afterward, you tied a corset around your waist. He responded with a ‘heh?’ of disagreement before he groaned loudly and flopped over in the bed, “see you soon Bubbas.” You leaned over and pecked his forehead before sliding down the ladder and out of the house. Ironically your timing was perfect as you greeted Ranboo right outside Technoblades cabin, “Good morning!”
     “Morning, you and Techno sleep okay?” You nodded with a bright smile, “Good Wilbur should be stopping by any minute now by the way. He sent me a note earlier this morning that said he’d be around this time.”
     “Works for me, wanna wait by your house?”
     “You just wanna pet my bunny,” You smirked and laughed,
     “Can you blame me?”
     “I suppose not. Whatever makes you happy.” Ranboo sighed but there wasn’t any real defeat in his tone, “Let’s go.” Ranboo and you walked a little ways away to his humble little shack so you could play with Ranbun. You were set up in Ranbun’s pen holding him in your arms and cooing softly at him, Ranboo joined you after a few moments of jealous staring. The two of you spent the next hour playing with his bunny and feeding him lots of treats, he was one happy bunny. Ranboo was the first person to see Ghostbur coming through the trees, a large box in hand, had he actually managed to get you a dress?
     “(Y/N)! Ranboo!” Ghostbur shouted excitedly floating over to the both of you, “I managed to find the dress I promised you! So long as it fits of course.” Your jaw fell open as you stumbled out of Ranbun’s pen,
     “How the hell did you manage to find me a wedding dress?”
     “Oh! It was Sally’s.” A fond smile spread across the ghost’s face, both you and Ranboo looked at one another brows furrowed. Ranboo put a hand to the side of his face and whispered loudly to you,
     “I thought Sally was a fish.”
You whispered back in the exact same manner,
    “Me too, but at this point, I’m too afraid to ask for clarification.”
Ranboo nodded seriously and stood back up to his full height, you stepped forward and took the box from the hands of the ghost he stared at it longingly like he was afraid to let it go. You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment before speaking up,
     “Are you sure?” Your voice was barely above a whisper but it was still as tender as ever, the ghost of Wilbur snapped his eyes up to meet yours. He seemed to be reading the expression in your eyes before smiling almost fondly, handing the box over to you officially. He pulled out a small patch of blue and fumbled it around in his hands, like a nervous tic,
    “I’m positive love. I trust you to take good care of it and Sally would want you to have it, she was wonderful like that. Just please take good care of it.”
    “I’ll protect it with my life. I promise you.”
     “I know you will, you’re going to be a beautiful bride, my dear.” He somehow took your hands and pressed a faint kiss to them, “Go on then try it on.” Your eyes sparkled in delight and he turned to Ranboo,
     “Well go on, we’ll still be here to judge you immensely.”
    “Oh fuck off.” You laughed heading into his shack to change, you managed to find an area not completely out in the open. The only nerve-wracking thing was you didn’t have a mirror so you had to pray you looked alright and that Raboo and Ghostbur wouldn’t lie to you. You opened the box and pulled the dress out, Sally really knew how to pick a damn good dress; the dress was stunning, you definitely wouldn’t do it justice. The dress fell past your feet and pooled a little ways behind you, it was more of an off-white creme color, and was made of soft lace. It was sleeveless so the winter wind gave you a chill, you hoped Technoblade picked a place that wasn’t freezing cold. You took a breath to hype yourself up and stepped out of the shack, the dress trailing behind you, you had left the veil in the box figuring you didn’t need it right now. The first person to spot you was Ghostbur, who gasped loudly bringing his hands up to his face after spotting you. You shrunk in on yourself a little bit and your cheeks turned a light pink in response, “That’s a good expression I hope.” You meekly laughed as Ranboo turned around and let out a shaky break of surprise. He reached forward with his claws to touch the soft fabric,
     “It’s perfect! Fits like a glove.” Wilbur hummed happily floating around you, “I was right by the way, you look beautiful. Techno’s going to pass out.”
    “Shut up I can’t look that good.”
    “You do though!” Ranboo shouted excitedly, “It suits you perfectly not that I had any doubts or anything.” He jumped a little on the balls of his feet, he pulled out his memory book quickly scribbling something down inside it, as he did so he muttered “I’m the best honorary maid of honor ever.”
     “You definitely are.” You praised the halfling who only seemed to grow more excited at the praise, Ghostbur cleared his throat, was he looking for a compliment too? “Ghostbur you’re a lifesaver, if it wasn’t for you I’d be walking down the aisle in Netherite. Thank you.” Ghostbur seemed to preen a little as he smiled proudly,
    “I know. I’m pretty great aren’t I? I basically saved the day.”
    “You certainly are.”
    “Oh! Just return the dress the next time I see you after the wedding okay?”
     “I will have no fear, it’s in safe hands.” The ghost nodded, “I can’t wait to see it in action tomorrow.”
     “Me too,” you sighed lovingly, doing a little twirl in the dress you could only imagine the look that would appear on Technoblade’s face when he saw you.
You hoped the voices would approve because Technoblade was absolutely going to short circuit and go feral, you could hardly wait.
Day 3: The Wedding Day
The night before the wedding Technoblade couldn’t sleep his body was buzzing with nerves, which was a foreign feeling to him. He was worried about you not sleeping by his side, this was the first time since you’ve officially gotten together that you weren’t there. He didn’t realize how much he missed your presence and warmth, he pulled the pillow you usually used close to his chest. He felt like a love-struck teenager cuddling the pillow of his missing girlfriend because that’s basically what he was, except instead of a girlfriend it was his fiance. The voices didn’t help his longing either; they were roaring in his head asking where you were and when you would come back.
Where’s (Y/N)? I miss her! Can Ranboo protect her if something goes wrong? What if Dream gets ahold of her in the meantime and you’re up here sleeping? I wanna squeeze her thighs again right now. E. That’s disgusting, stop, don’t sexualize her like that. B U T T. Can I get a big pog for butts? Thighs for the thigh god.
His entire face went a deep scarlet, “What does that even mean guys.” Technoblade let out a loud groan of embarrassment, some of the voices laughed, some others rumbled with anger. “I just want her by my side is all, I miss her. I miss her touch...I don’t know when I became such a sap. I hate that I care about her this much, but god without her I’d be lost.”
SIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMP
     “You shits.”
The morning rolled around and Technoblade woke up as soon as the sun shone through the windows. He fell asleep around three in the morning, tired as shit, bees buzzing around in his stomach.
Today’s the day! Gotta get ready as soon as possible, you’re gonna look so handsome! I bet (Y/N)’s gonna be equally as beautiful! Don’t fuck it up. Celebratory murder spree pog? She’ll think you’re so hot covered in blood. No! E. Normalcy is key!
He shook his head to get rid of the nagging voices rattling around in his head, he knew what he had to do, and listening to the voices wasn’t one of them. Phil was going to come soon and Technoblade had to look presentable so they could head to the venue and Phil could set up some last-minute decorations. Techno would say he felt bad making Phil do most of the work, but he honestly didn’t, especially since he was so inept at romance in the first place. Never one to wear a suit Technoblade decided his best outfit would be his arctic retirement one, a suit would be too constricting. After all, what if it was attacked and he needed to jump into action, Phil had told him that he was absolutely not allowed to bring weapons which he was not happy about at all. Although the man did reassure him that he would be armed and have an extra weapon just in case something was to occur, he guessed that was FINE. With a soft huff, the man stood up from his bed and pulled out his outfit, the soft blue made him yearn for the days before they found Tommy living under the house. In a way wearing this symbolized a time in their relationship before he was forced into bloodshed once again, plus he knew you loved the fuzzier outfit.
Putting on everything, he brought the fur cape around his shoulders, his crown glittering on his head in the light. He looked regal, he would say he looked like a king but he hated all forms of government so he just looked like his usual badass self. In his closet sat his wedding gift to you, it was a gold tiara that matched his crown in his own way finally solidifying the both of you as a blood god duo.
Turning away from the tiara he grabbed a hairbrush to tame his wild hair, he wanted to do something different with it. It spilled around his back and down to his waist, he managed to tame the frizz with some product that he ‘borrowed’ from you. In the end, he had two small braids framing his face, he grabbed both of them and pinned them together on the back of his head. A half-up half-down look almost made him look like a Viking, he liked it. Technoblade placed gold earrings along with his ears and added some gold accents on his wrists and fingers, none overshading his engagement ring.
His ears twitched hearing the door open downstairs, Phil was here, it was time.
     “Hellooo!” Technoblade called from upstairs and Phil responded with a cheerful,
    “Hey mate!”
As Technoblade descended the ladder, Phil smiled fondly at his old friend, he immediately adjusted the cape on his shoulders. Technoblade huffed a small laugh, “Was that really necessary?”
     “Obviously. I’m the married one, I know what I’m doing.” He shot back snickering, “You ready to go?”
     “As I’ll ever be I suppose.”
    “I’m proud of you man,” Phil responded with a fatherly smile “You’re never going to forget today. It’ll be the best of your life.”
    “Ehhhh I don’t know about that. Spawning those Withers and blowing up a country really gave me a rush.”
     “Oh fuck off,” Phil howled with laughter while shoving the snickering piglin. “This’ll be an entirely new feeling, I would know.” His wings puffed out happily remembering his marriage fondly,
     “Didn’t you marry a fridge?”
    “You’re literally the worst.”
Technoblade smirked just happy he steered the conversation away from any of that mushy crap. He was going to get enough of that as it is in a few hours, oh look at that the bees are back. Phil gave him a pat on the back and the two of them left the house side by side. The spot Technoblade picked out for the wedding was one both of you would like, a snowy taiga, it was warm enough that you wouldn’t freeze to death but still had the beautiful powdery snow that Tecnhoblade loved. Phil had done an amazing job of setting everything up, on the arch, there were beautiful blue flowers interspersed with white roses (both of which you picked out prior), they stood out beautifully against the wooden trellises. There was a carved stone pathway leading the way up to the arch and a few wooden benches decorated with light blue silk so whomever (Y/N) invited could sit down. He knew most of them would only be there for her, he was okay with that, all he needed was Phil and Ranboo and he was content. Next to each booth was a stone pillar, on top of them sat a bouquet of white and blue roses.
     “You really outdid yourself, thank you.” Technoblade whistled,
     “You know I’d do anything for you mate. Glad I could provide, I do have one last little decoration though.” Phil mused reaching into his bag he pulled out a small gold bell similar to the one he had inside his house. He placed the bell above the arch so it would chime softly when the wind blew against its side. Technoblade smiled fondly at the sight and wrapped his arm around Phil’s shoulder.
     “I love it. (Y/N)’s gonna love it too.”
     “Thanks, man.” Phil said softly bumping against the blade, “Do you know who’s going to show up by the way?”
    “Absolutely no idea.”
     “Guess we’re gonna find out, look.” Technoblade stepped away from Phil and looked in the direction of his friend, cresting over the hill seemed to be two girls, Technoblade was immediately confused because he didn’t realize you had friends who were women. Phil let out a small laugh, “Oh it’s Niki and Puffy, Ranboo must’ve introduced (Y/N) to them.” Technoblade only nodded his lips twitching into a frown, new people...gross.
     “Hi, Phil! Technoblade!” Puffy chirped brightly, her hand intertwined with Niki’s tightly, “Congratulations to you Mr.” She lightly tapped Technoblade in the chest he blinked in surprise,
     “Thank you?”
     “I may have just met (Y/N), but just know if you do ANYTHING to hurt her at all I will slaughter you.”
     “Darling please…” Niki sheepishly smiled, “you realize you’re threatening Technoblade right? Not the best idea.”
    “It’s alright. I admire your gumption,” Technoblade gave the both of them a thumbs up in response, “I’m glad (Y/N) has someone else like that looking out for her. But, just so you know. The same to you.” He eyed the both of them with a sharp look in his eyes, Puffy let out a nervous laugh and Niki narrowed her eyes warily.
     “That’s fair.”
     “Anyway!” Phil cleared his throat, “let's not ruin this before it even starts.” He led the two girls over to their seats with a small smile, “(Y/N) will be super happy to see you both by the way. Thank you for coming.”
      “Of course, (Y/N) and I are soulmates after all.” Puffy swooned happily as Niki giggled fondly at her antics, “Technoblade better watch out. Niki and I will steal her heart.”
    “I’ll be sure to warn him,” He snickered, glancing over at his friend who was sniffing at the flowers in the pots. “If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask, Wilbur should be here soon then (Y/N) and Ranboo will come and it’ll start.”
    “Sounds good,” Niki hummed playing with the sleeves of her blue dress “I’m super excited to meet her.”
While Puffy reassured her that she would, Phil noticed his son floating over to the area. “Hello, Phil!” The ghost’s eyes lit up seeing all of them, “Oh wow everything is so beautiful!”
    “Thanks, Ghostbur.” Technoblade hummed walking over to Phil and the ghost,
     “I’m proud of you too Mr. Engaged!” He snickered as Technoblade’s nose scrunched up in distaste, “Who knew the big, scary Technoblade would settle down with a wife, maybe start a family eventually.”
     “I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear any of the cringy nonsense that just came out of your mouth; so I can enjoy today in peace.”
    "Boo! I’m just happy for you!” Ghostbur huffed in annoyance, “I was telling (Y/N) yesterday that marrying Sally was the best day of my life! I’m so making fun of you when you get all mushy.”
     “IF I get all mushy, which I won’t.”
    “Sure you won’t man,” Technoblade glared at his friends in frustration if this teasing was going to continue. He was kidnapping (Y/N) himself and getting married to her elsewhere.
     “I do love all the blue though!” The ghost of Wilbur swooned happily at all the flowers, “This just makes the entire day even better!-”
However he didn’t get to continue as Ranboo cleared his throat rather loudly, the enderboy looked dapper as always, a rose was pinned on his lapel, obviously from (Y/N).
     "Ready Techno?” Phil looked over at him, the pigman’s frustration and confidence fell from his face all at once. Even Ghostbur was shocked at the way Technoblade tensed up and fumbled with the soft fluff on his cape, “Techno?”
It’s time. Holy fuck! She’s going to be stunning, he’s going to be a husband! HE’S GOING TO BE A HUSBAND? Oh fuck.
     “Techno mate you alright?”
     "Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Let's do this.” Technoblade took a deep breath walking over to the altar with Phil, Phil was obviously officiating the wedding. He didn’t want anyone else doing it, Ranboo smiled at the two of them as he walked down the aisle throwing little flower petals everywhere before standing on (Y/N)’s side of the altar. He gave him a happy little nod, Technoblade nodded back at him in a sign that he was happy to see him. Music began to flow through the air, Technoblade just knew Wilbur had managed to bring a jukebox, but he didn’t mind it was fitting.
He turned towards the rich sound and for once in his life the voices...stopped.
Technoblade could hear the music perfectly, he heard the chiming of the bell every time the wind blew, everything seemed clear and for all the sounds that were playing around him without the rancorous voices, it all seemed deadly quiet.
The true reason the voices stopped though was because he saw you.
Elegant. Magnificent. Royalty.
The words spun around in his head, because god you looked angelic as you walked towards him. He wished your face wasn’t obscured by a veil, he wanted to see you, to cup your cheeks and pull you into a desperate kiss. He wasn’t worthy to marry you, he was barely worthy to breathe the same air as someone so pure. Technoblade bit down on his tongue rather harshly, for once in his life he wished the voices would speak up so he wouldn’t feel so small in his head.
     “Hi.”
Your silvery voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he drew in a shaky breath and looked at you.
     “Hi,” His voice cracked a little and he flushed all the way up to the tips of his ears. He reached out to squeeze your hands tightly, he felt you squeeze back and he knew that everything was okay. Fuck, he was tearing up a little and he hasn’t even seen your face yet, fuck...Ghostbur was right. He was a mushy gross mess, you giggled a little at his flustered expression.
     “You look handsome,” You whispered softly tilting your head to the side.
     “You’re Aphrodite herself.”
    “Take it back. Take it back right now.” The teasing tone your voice took made him relax considerably, you were still you. His lovely almost wife who’d he got to spend the rest of his life with, it was perfect, you were perfect.
    “You know I do, even if it kills me to retract the statement.” His hand reached forward and gently pushed the veil back over your head.
Fuck.
It took all his strength not to kiss you senseless. Phil cleared his throat and smiled at the small crowd of people who came to the wedding, Puffy seemed to already be emotional, Niki rubbing her back with gentle circles. The both of you barely paid any attention to the introductions and the little details too engrossed in one another to truly listen to anyone that wasn’t each other. They both snapped to attention when Phil spoke their names with a tender smile and their wedding rings were in his hands.
     “Your wedding rings are the outward and visible sign of the inward and invisible bond which already unites you two hearts in love. Groom, place the ring on Bride’s finger and repeat after me….I give you this ring…”
     “I give you this ring.” Technoblade swallowed thickly listening carefully to Phil’s words as you smiled adoringly, the pink spreading across your cheeks was adorable. He shakily slid the diamond ring on your finger,
    “Wear it with love and joy.”
     “Wear it with love and joy.”
     “As this ring has no end, My love is also forever.”
    “As this ring has no end, My love is also forever.”
    “Good job man.” He winked teasingly at Technoblade breaking character to complement his friend, “Bride, place the ring on Groom’s finger and repeat after me….I give you this ring.”
     “I give you this ring.”
     “Wear it with love and joy.”
     “Wear it with love and joy.”
     “As this ring has no end, my love is also forever.”
     “As this ring has no end, my love is also forever.” You breathed softly staring into Technoblade’s eyes and right into his soul. No doubts, only love. Phil continued on,
     “May the wedding rings you exchanged today to remind you always that you are surrounded by enduring love and so now by the power vested in me by...me, it is my honor and delight to declare you husband and wife. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.” You didn’t need to be told twice as you threw your arms around Technoblade’s shoulders smothering him with a kiss. He let out a breathy laugh against them, before kissing you back just as passionately. Technoblade’s hands rested on your lower back and he held you like you were a perfect porcelain doll. “I am pleased to present the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs… ugh Blade! We’ll go with that.” The man laughed as you pulled away from Technoblade to join in his laughter, you pulled Phil into a hug and motioned for Ranboo to join in, both did so, although Ranboo’s was slightly reluctant.
     “Thank you both for everything. My sweet Borealis boys.” You cooed, Phil only laughed and Ranboo’s entire face flushed deeply at the nickname.
     “We love you obviously,” Phil hummed “You don’t need to thank us. Right Ranboo?”
     “Do I really have to say it?”
    “Yes.” Technoblade spoke gruffly, “If you don’t she might cry.”
     “Yeah, Ranboo don’t make me cry on my wedding day.”
     “Oh, Christ...Fine! I love you too…thank you for giving me a home. Caring for me...all of that. You don’t know how much that means to me.” Ranboo looked up at you and you immediately wrapped him in another tight hug, he let out a little whimper and buried his face in your hair.
     “You’ll always be welcome here Ranboo. We’ll always be your home so long as you’ll have us.”
     “Shit,” He laughed a little wetly pulling away from you, “I’ll have to write that down.”
    “You mean you’ll forget it? Rude.” It was Technoblade who chimed in this time and Ranboo flushed in embarrassment once again. He hunched in on himself before sputtering,
     “No, no, no not what I meant! What I mean is like-”
    “Ranboo you’re fine mate.” Phil snickered, reaching up to ruffle his hair, “loosen up a little.”
     “(Y/N)!” You turned towards the shouting of your new friends and your face lit up,
    “Puffy!” The two girls threw their arms around you in a warm hug, even though you didn’t know Niki yet you’re never one to turn down a hug.
Your final conclusion of the night: Niki was absolutely lovely and she and Puffy were relationship goals.
~~~
Candles were littered around the room as you and Technoblade swayed gently to soft music in your bedroom. The both of you were finally alone, and officially married, the first thing Technoblade wanted to do was have the first dance with you. It surprised you that a dance was that important to him, but you came to the conclusion that he just wanted to hold you as close as possible. “I have a gift for you,” Technoblade spoke up rather suddenly and you frowned,
     “We said no gifts.”
     “When have I EVER listened to authority Princess?”
     “Touche,” You snapped your fingers in his direction and he snickered. He pulled away from you and you flopped down on the bed, you watched him walk over to the closet and pull out a medium-sized velvet box. “Bubs what the hell…” You murdered as he placed it into your arms, “please tell me you didn’t go too crazy.”
    “I didn’t. I made it by hand,” Technoblade urged you to open it. You did so pulling off the top, jaw-dropping onto the floor. He knew that reaction was positive and pride swelled in his heart, he knew his girl well. He watched as you lifted the golden tiara out of the box, it was littered with gems that matched his crown, your thumb brushed against them in awe.
     “You made this?”
     “Just for you Princess. Thought you needed something to fit your name.”
     “I’m so in love with you.”
     “Good thing you're my wife then,” he felt his stomach swoop happily and by the way you gently caressed the crown, he knew you felt the same about him. “Put it on Princess I wanna see how it looks on you.” Your face turned red as you did as he asked, his eyes grew half-lidded and he kneeled down in front of you, “Stunning.” He kissed the inside of your wrist, his voice turning gruff, “beautiful.” A kiss was placed on your forearm, “gorgeous,” On your shoulder, “My princess. My good girl.” Technoblade pressed a hot kiss to your neck, you leaned back your breath hitching in your throat.
     “Techno…” You whined softly, “I love you.”
      “Love you more.”
     “Love you most,” He purred, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
~~~
The dogs' rapid barking stirred you from your rest, Technoblade grumbled beside you as you sat up in bed letting the covers fall from your shoulders. The air nipped at your bare skin and you frowned, you couldn’t help but wonder what bothered the dogs so suddenly, “Go back to bed.” Technoblade demanded his hand caressing the small of your back, you leaned back against the warm touch but you couldn’t shake away your worry.
     “I’ll be back in two seconds.” You leaned down to kiss the top of his head, he only hummed in response. Big guy knew you could handle yourself just fine, n’ that’s why you loved him. You slipped on a robe and your slippers before making your way to the dogs, stepping inside you heard quite a few of them whining, they just seemed genuinely bothered. “What’s going on huh guys?” You cooed scratching them behind their ears, sensing your comforting presence they seemed to calm down considerably, “What’s got my fearsome guard puppies so spooked.”
      “That’d probably be me.”
You jumped halfway in the air, whipping around you came face to face with the hollow white mask that Dream commonly wore.
    “Fucking shit Dream what the hell?” You pressed your hand to your heart, your dogs growling lowly all around you. “You scared the shit out of me!”
    “My bad.” He smirked in a way that showed he wasn’t at all sorry, “I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get an invitation to the wedding.”
     “Would you have even shown up?” You raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer to you, Nightmare was at his hip making your bad vibe senses light up like a wildfire. He hummed thoughtfully rubbing his chin,
    “Probably not. But, I decided I’d drop by and give you my congratulations.” He was close enough that you could smell him, he smelled like burning wood and dirt; like a little pissbaby worm.
     “Well thank you,” You wrapped the robe tighter around your body like it suddenly dropped ten degrees. “You can go now-” You started before you were pressed up against the wall, his fearsome blade Nightmare at your throat. The dogs began to bark and howl at the man’s heels but they couldn’t do much without a direct command, but you hoped it would be enough to draw Technoblade out of the house.
     “Clearly Technoblade cares about you much more than I had originally calculated. It’s kind of pathetic if I’m being honest. Someone like you who's so small, so pathetic, could bring Technoblade, the fearsome blood god himself, down like that. Make him soft. We can’t exactly have that now, can we? We need him...How do I say this...a bit feral, unhinged.”
     “You realize you kill me, you can count on him hunting you down and slaughtering you right? I can’t say for sure the ‘favor’ is completely off the table but he’ll half-ass it that’s for sure.” You snarled right back in Dreams face, tempted to spit in it.
    “Oh, I’m not going to kill you, babe.” His voice dripped like honey, its sickly sweet tone made your stomach churn. “But we’re going to get really comfortable with one another, for the time being, you’re under my custody.”
     “What the fuck does that mean you freak-” He hit you on the back of the head with Nightmare, successfully knocking you out. That caused one of the dogs to absolutely lose it, jumping up and tearing off a piece of Dreams bright green hoodie. He snarled at the dog and jolted when he heard Technoblade call for (Y/N), it was close. He quickly messaged his accomplice and was teleported out of the situation, via his own stasis chamber, appearing back in his home base. He smiled wickedly under his mask, as Enderman noises could be heard behind him. He adjusted the girl in his grip, the next few days were going to be a lot of fun.
: )
~~~
Leave your comments below and I hope you enjoyed! Memes and fanart is also always welcome your girl is thirsty for any scrap of content. 
629 notes · View notes
bluecookies02 · 3 years
Text
Dabi x Reader- I Run To You /nsfw/
Tumblr media
warnings: praise/degradation, sex oriented quirk?(meaning succubus-ish!Reader), choking, overstimulation, squirting, pinning/slightly obsessed reader.
The reader becomes a villain-->brief mentions of blood, mentions of Touya's "death".
━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━
Maybe you're supposed to feel some sort of remorse when you see your childhood friend on the screen, blue flames hugging every corner of the building he's in, the poor glass shattering and melting as the reporters hurriedly fly around to catch every evidence and information they can.
You couldn't see much of his face, but the way he carried himself and the exact patterns of his scarred arm were enough for her. You only needed one glance.
It took a few months for you to wrap your head around it. Trying to push down the anger and grief by finding excuses for whatever he's doing. You became obsessed though, super fixated on every last trail of him you can find.
Years went by fast. Gaining the trust of other villains was fairly easy when you share the same hatred for the heroes. It brings you a sense of belonging and they listen. They listen and feel your anger, understand loss better than anyone else you tried to talk to before. You don't receive stupid condolences and bullshit like "it gets better" or "that's what faith had in store for you". You get raw emotion, telling you exactly what you yearned to hear, finally knowing that you're not crazy and that there are people who have enough braincells to see through the terrible facades the society has been smearing over everybody's eyes.
It's hard at first, watching blood and flesh rip through the air you breathe as your shoes leave red trails that follow your step...until they don't...they get mixed and lost and the footprints you once knew were yours look foreign, you don't know where you came from, you just know where you're headed.
You come back to your small apartment almost every night, writing down and scribbling each piece of information before it has the chance to be forgotten, intent on not letting a single detail slip.
You find it bizarre. You wanted to be a hero. For as long as your memory goes, you admired and glorified the kind and selfless faces you saw on TV, and in your own house.
He wanted to be a hero too? Even more than you. You're close, just a handful of months and you'd earn yourself a place. You know it.
Would he remember you?
Your pen breaks under the pressure of your palm, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You stack the notebooks neatly, locking your door before plopping on your pillow.
All of this for a boy...how silly of you...Would he be happy to have someone familiar next to him?
You feel lonely...You miss the comfort of the past and you wonder if he does too. Did he even like you back then? You dig for every memory of him smiling at you, gracing your hand while the two of you played the games on his computer.
Then your eyes wander to the pictures on your wall, collages of newspapers with his face on it. He aged like fine wine. Strong and handsome. His hands are something you can't look away from, his long fingers keeping you in a trance while you snuggle under your blanket, slipping your hand in your shorts. Just this time.
You bend your legs at your knees, head craned to look at the pictures on your walls, mouth loosely open. You take your time working your clit, imagining how he would do it. How he would take his time exploring you after not seeing you for so long.
Your ass bucks off the bed a little, humping against your fingers, almost dipping into your greedy pussy, ghosting over the slicked up hole and spreading the nice coat of the slimy wetness across your folds.
Would he be good at eating you out? Stretching his scarred jaw to fit his mouth over your cunt and lap at it, sticking his tongue out as far as it can go.
You stretch your shorts to fit your hand in, pressing two fingers on each side of the sensitive nub, using your other hand to flick at the exposed pearl. It almost burns from the pressure, too sensitive when it's not hidden under the thin layer.
What if he had his tongue pierced? Imagining the metal on you, swirling over every inch, digging into you as it bumps your clit. You can't make yourself wait anymore, pulling your shorts down and pressing your knees to your tummy. Like he's there in the room, giving him a perfect view of your dripping hole, untouched and clenching around nothing as you trail your finger across it.
You slip two of them in, too horny to drag it out anymore, you start pumping them in and out of your pussy, convulsing and shivering each time you hit that spot while you arch off the bed. Your other hand works your clit, chasing the trashing of your hips while your drenched cunt pools around your fingers, the sound making you high. It's wet and erotic, your palm slamming against your other hand, the rhythm on your clit rushed and messy, interrupting the pace you need.
You imagine his skilled fingers on you again, precisely circling your swollen nub as he stuffs you with his cock, his hot breath on your neck while his dyed hair tickles your face, wet kisses adoring your skin as he's about to stuff you full of his cum, press your legs to your stomach until they feel like they're gonna break. He'd try to go deeper than possible, holding your neck so that he can kiss you properly as your bodies rock the bed.
He'd cum first, seconds before you just to make sure that you milk every last drop as you cum and pulse around his shaft, your pussy gripping and sucking him in while he still balls deep inside you, groaning into your mouth.
The sensation of him shaking against you sends you over the edge, your breath being knocked out of you as your thighs flex and clench together, squeezing your hands and trapping them in place.
You're gasping for breath, eyes closing and ears buzzing from your high, light thrust against your clit coming to a stop as you slowly calm down.
Bliss washes over you as you lay there for a bit, chest rising and falling, your body completely relaxed.
You hope it'll all turn out to be worth it and joining the League would just be another step from many to go. Yet you still hope that your feelings were mutual back then. You experience loss too early in your teen years and a lot has changed since. But one thing was constant, you never stop loving someone even after they're gone, and Touya is the biggest proof of that.
You still had his books, pens, shirts and all of the notes the two of you passed around during dinners or classes...and you held onto them long before you found out he was still somewhere out there.
He was stoic and cold most of the time, his affections looked calculated, keeping you on the line throughout the whole friendship, not letting the two of you slip into a relationship. Pausing his flirting as soon as you seemed to get your hopes up.
If not a relationship, you want closure, and you want him, in any form you can have him.
_______________
Slowly you wake up to a pattern of knocks on your bedside table, not having the time to panic or get scared as you're slipping away from your dreams.
When you finally do see a tall white-haired man next to your bed, you raise your hands up in defense, heart skipping beats and toes curling as you back away to the headboard.
"Quiet a stalker aren't you?" Red eyes pierce through you, your quirk activating for a split second until he grabs a hold of your ankle with four fingers.
"You know what the fifth one does...so behave nicely, I'm not here to kill you" You look around the room, avoiding the uncomfortable gaze of the leader.
The shame of your interior upsetting you more than the initial fear of getting murdered.
"How did you get in?" Your locks are too good to be broken down, your alarm system expensive(but stolen) and working perfectly.
A purple portal flashes in the middle of the room. Well not so perfectly, you figure.
"I won't snitch on your obsession cause I couldn't care less, I want you in the League. Pack your shit or run." Your eyes are wide open, watching as the man slips into a portal and disappears, the purple mist still glowing in front of you.
You hurriedly grab a small suitcase, stuffing everything you know is important, already having some luggage packed in case you had to move fast for whatever reason. It comes in handy being organized.
You hide the newspapers you took off your walls, slipping them between your clothes and zipping the suitcase. First impression matters, so you risk wasting a bit of time to pick out an outfit, making yourself look presentable before you slip into a mellow cloud, dragging your stuff with you.
Your heart is pounding, blood rushing to the tips of your ears and the pads of your fingers, pulsing and warming you up.
The leader greets you again, grinning as he leads you to a room, telling you to make yourself at home.
"I wanted to give you a roommate, but that would be distracting" he teases, his teeth still showing as he closes the door behind you. The room is warm and surprisingly not messy at all. Yes, some things are carelessly tossed on the bed or draped over the chair but everything else is neat. You figure out fairly quickly that it was probably occasionally used.
You take your time to explore the room, piling up the stuff that wasn't yours in one corner of it. You unpack one of your suitcases and half of the other, cursing yourself for bringing the evidence of your little plan.
You don't know why you brought it, it seemed useless after you found out where you're going, but you guess it's for sentimental reasons. You didn't plan for it to happen so fast. But they were indeed a bit low on numbers after recent attacks so they must've gotten impatient and started seeking out more people.
You did do everything in your power to get noticed so you do want to take some credit. You smoothen out the sheets before you sit on the bed, thighs rubbing together from nervousness.
Is he on a mission?
How can you play it cool?
What's his favorite food now?
What are his interests?
Does anything make him particularly happy...maybe a hobby?
Should you try using your quirk to lure him in?
Does he know you exist?
Will he recognize you?
Would he remember you even after you tell him?
Maybe you shouldn't tell him.
You stop before you get too deep in your thoughts, deciding that you should make yourself comfortable. It's very likely that he's not there anyways, and he might not even show up soon, sitting there all alone is just making you more anxious.
You decide to leave the room, curious to meet other members that you heard in the hallways a few minutes ago. They were all headed to the same place, so you decided to go to what you figured was the living room.
The smell of alcohol got stronger, and the small giggles and banter got louder. You fixed your clothes one last time before opening the door, seeing the all too familiar faces in the room.
A blonde-haired girl ran to you, almost tumbling them both to the floor as she giggled excitedly.
"I was dying for more girls in this dump, they all stink" she whined, sniffing your shirt. She was grabbed by the collar by the boss, his pinkie up as the girl huffed.
_________________
So that's exactly how you met everyone, sitting on the bar as you silently wished the last member showed any desire in greeting you. He was sprawled out on the sofa in the far end of the room, a beer in hand and a cigarette in his mouth. You've never seen someone so unapproachable before, and it had to be him of all people.
Yet you didn't take it to heart. He was always like this...well minus the alcohol. New people didn't phase him, even more, he hated new. You're not worthy of his time until he deems you as so and you figure he never met "you" before.
But you do glance at him. The whole fucking night, chatting with others but always slipping and almost getting caught. They pointed it out but you just brushed it off as being curious to why he doesn't look like he's enjoying himself.
Even tho, you can practically feel his gaze on your back each time you turn away, feeling flustered you sip on your drink through the night, blushing when you catch him averting his gaze.
He is intrigued, to say the least. The way you move and talk is intoxicating, your voice feeling like something he had forgotten a long time ago. It reminds him of his past and it makes him fairly angry...but it brings some form of comfort he didn't feel in a while. He'll be selfish enough to indulge himself.
And he does. Months. Seeping into years.
________________
Missions are exhausting, so far you've been on more than you could bring yourself to count. On the run for weeks with little to no rest wasn't the luxurious lifestyle younger you dreamed about.
The comfort of the not so soft bed never felt more heavenly than now. A cheap motel wasn't your form of rest either, but you had to deal, hopping in for a not so relaxing shower with water that jumped from freezing to burning hot every second, tho it did an amazing job on easing the coil in your stomach.
Your quirk is taking a toll on you, control over it fading away as soon as you are laying clean and fresh on the bed. Too much...You were working too much and just teasing the victims never seemed to satiate your quirks' hunger. You second guess your path a lot, especially when you end up alone and exhausted, but you never think about quitting...as weird as that feels. It has its perks you guess...
Him being your partner wasn't one of them. He's practically eating you up, showing off in front of you but ignoring you all the same. You feel like crying from frustration, huffing to yourself before digging into your backpack and grabbing your small toy. It's been a few weeks since you could indulge yourself, the tension of your muscles painful.
Tears are almost freely rolling down your cheeks, your quirk making you feel dizzy as you slip the toy against your clit.
His voice is rough and quiet in your head, the conversations you had playing on repeat, searching for anything that you might've missed.
Every time you thought of one, it was followed by a memory of him pushing you away, smirking before going to do his own thing. He always had a smart mouth, flirting with you but making sure to step right off when he feels like he's dancing on that line.
You bit back equally though, returning the snarky comments and putting up a tough facade all while you tried to cling onto every thread of hope he threw your way.
He was almost sure he heard you though, his real name followed by a muffled cough as you tried your hardest to drown it with small talk. A moment of pure joy after you both made it out alive and safe made you let your guard down.
And when he called off the rest of the mission for the day out of nowhere, you were almost sure too.
But he isn't here now. He didn't follow you, and you're certainly all alone in this empty room. He'll come around...or he'll leave in the middle of the night. You wouldn't be able to blame him for either.
He's in the room right next to you, his fist wrapped tightly around his cock and his eyes squinted shut. He knows exactly who you remind him of, knows exactly what he felt as soon as you joined. You were always similar to her.
Awfully similar.
He knows.
It doesn't feel fair. Not to you or him. But he can't think. He can't focus and he can't stop himself from moaning out your name as his cock slicks up with pre-cum, his other going to his balls and squeezing them lightly.
He feels drunk, even though he didn't drink...well more than the usual amount... his body is burning like it's on fire...which isn't a foreign feeling to him. But it's different, the blood in his veins is warm, surging to the tips of his hands and toes as he fucks into his own fist. He's almost in a haze, fighting the urge to get up and slam your door open. If he runs away now, you'll be safer, maybe quit the League if he's lucky.
But he can't win, messily pulling his pants up and slipping on his shoes, grabbing your door handle in less than a blink as he tries to go back one last time. He has a primal need that pulls him towards you, even when he's not in the same room, it urges him to reach out and chase you, grip on the last straw of sanity and happiness that happens to be you.
Your toy buzzes faintly, sweat gracing your body while you so desperately try to cum. You're too sad and it doesn't help in reaching your high at all, but if you don't do it you feel like you might explode. He knows and he doesn't want you. You wasted your life away. You deserve it for being a creep.
He opens the door cautiously, feeling his cock pulse against the loose buckle. The lamp highlights your tear-stained cheeks and it's criminally hot, illegal even, making his toes curl.
You notice him immediately, dropping the toy on the mattress and using the sheet to cover as best as you can.
"I can't believe you" he whispers.
"Please..." you whine, drinking in the sight of him, wiping the tears with the back of your hand. To leave or to stay...any of the two.You know desire when you see it, praying that he came to quench it.
You're so desperate, craving him, letting go of your quirk and sending hormones to clash and bite against his skin.
You'll lie if you have to, say how you couldn't control it for a second more.
Nothing matters now when he's crawling up your naked body like a starved man, ripping the sheets away, digging his nails into your sides as he ravages your skin like it's the sweetest thing he's ever tasted.
And it probably is, the soft nibbles turning rough and hungry as you struggle to hold one, tangling your hands in his hair. You try to pull on it, yearning to kiss him and pour everything you feel against his lips, even if you're just a fuck, you need him to know that you never forgot him.
He doesn't budge, instead, he makes quick work of his pants, pulling you to the edge of the bed.
The room is too warm for you, the air too thick to breathe. You don't know if you want to stop and talk first....maybe you'll have the chance later?
"This is your fault" he huffs, slipping one hand to his boxers to ease the tension, gripping his cock tightly. He'll have to rush it, groaning when your legs subconsciously twitch and spread to let him fit in between.
"I feel like a fucking teenager" he argues, cupping your pussy and hunching over you.
He's missing a few steps, but seeing you so desperate and aching to cum urges him to help you out first.
"Since when did you start luring me in with your stupid quirk huh? Part of your little plan?" he questions, not letting you answer.
You're shaking your head, trying to mumble how you never tricked him into wanting you, not until this exact moment. But words are not your friend right now.
His eyes pierce through yours, beautiful blue swallowed up by the black of his pupils, half-lidded stare stripping you naked. Bare and vulnerable as your back arches, ghosting his fingers over the right spots and making you moan out a soft "Dabi".
It doesn't sound right on your tongue, and he sees the way it rolls off your lips, strained and dishonest.
His large hand wraps around your throat, holding you in place as he works the small bud, lowering his lips dangerously close, whispering across yours.
"Don't close your eyes." he demands.
It's in his arms reach, and everything is so close to making sense. If you look at him, he might start feeling like himself again. One of his fingers slowly dips inside your warmth, dragging the pad of it gently while he presses his thumb against your clit.
Your soft lips fit on his, your hands pulling him in by the back of his neck. He wants to make it slow and romantic, a nice reunion, yet he lets you slip your tongue in his mouth, deepening the kiss.
He's not holding himself up anymore, his body's weight shifting onto you with each thrust of his finger, the clacking sound of your pussy urging him to move even faster, make you feel even better. He adds in another one, watching you mewl and relax.
"That's fucking right, you wanted it, you fucking planned this, you sick fuck" he muses, catching you off guard. There's something bittersweet in the fact that he'll never be able to leave every little aspect of his life behind.
Before you even try to mumble something out, his lips are slamming against yours, teeth clashing and pulling on your soft skin.
You clench around him, riding his fingers greedily and roaming your hands across his back, fisting and gripping at his shirt.
You can feel the blood on your tongue, hissing when he pulls out only to slap his palm over your clit, causing you to yelp and pull away from the kiss.
"Touya, listen-" He shakes his head, nails digging into the flesh of your ass.
"You little stalker...how much work did you do for this cock huh?" he presses against you for good measure, making you feel his hot length on your cunt.
"You have no fucking idea" you snarl, gaining some of the confidence back, wiggling from beneath him.
He kicks his shoes and boxers all the way off, getting on your bed and pulling you to him.
His shirt is thrown messily to the edge of the bed, his hands pressing on the small of your back so that you can tower over him, trapping him between your thighs as he leans against the headboard.
Your ass slides over his cock, your hips moving slowly while he trails your figure, gliding his warm fingers across your thighs and up to your breasts.
Both of his hands cup the soft mounds, eyes glued to yours as he sticks his tongue out of his mouth. Hypersensitive to every little touch, your body shivers as he takes gentle, almost there swipes across your nipple, moving his arms back to your sides while he slips the sensitive bud in his mouth.
He lowers his thumb to your clit, flicking it slowly while he nips at your tits, biting and sucking marks across the smooth skin. His cock hooks and prods at your hole each time you both sway against each other, teasing you until the knot in your belly becomes too tight, skin crawling with pleasure wherever his body meets yours. He can hear your breath hitching in your throat, grinning while he speeds up the work on your clit, patiently waiting for you to start arching into his hand. He's gonna make you feel so good...convince you that chasing after him was the best decision you made in your life. Make up for all the years you had to deal with everything on your own.
He can feel your pussy clenching around the tip of his cock, making him push up in one slow and deep motion, immediately feeling the spasms of your soft walls gripping tight around his length. You let out a shaky breath, riding out the first high that finally satiates your quirk if only for a bit, making you drop your weight on him.
"There we go...Feeling better?" the ground might swallow you up, but when his hips start to lazily buck into you, you get distracted...You didn't notice how full you are, every inch pushing and stretching perfectly. You realize his finger never really stopped, only slowed down while he built up the agonizing pace he's bouncing you on.
You know your quirk makes you needy, but it makes everyone even more so, the realization that he probably feels like 9 circles of hell causing your hips to move, meeting his thrusts more roughly.
His head moves back to the headboard, eyes glued to yours as you ride him, propping yourself on his shoulders.
He ignored the burn of his body, too intoxicated and keen on making you feel better to focus on his aching cock, getting drowned in pleasure now that he can experience everything clearly.
You're beautiful.... and he wants to break you, make you blabber his name as you cling to him like he's the only one that can make you feel good. And he's gonna make sure he is. He admires you for a moment, cheeks heating up while watches your tits bounce, your eyes averting under his stare.
Your world turns upside down, your head sinking into a soft pillow as your legs are pushed as far as they can go.
You're scared to look away now, his gaze never breaking when he starts plowing in and out of your cunt, slamming his cock all the way in with each thrust.
His feet dig into your mattress, making the cheap bed creak.
You don't know where to put your hands, switching from the sheets to your thighs.
"Dumb little whore...is this all it takes?" he moves lower to you, pressing your spit coated lips against his.
You manage to hook your arms around his neck, swinging your legs behind his back.
He's plowing too deep, his navel bumping against your clit. He can't make himself pull out at all anymore, stuck on humping inside your pussy, slamming and angling his cock until you cry out.
Panting and groaning against your lips, he manages to slip a few curses, hissing when he tries to stop himself from cumming. Your quirk is cruel.
His fingers tangle in your hair, holding you still as he bottoms out completely, feeling his cock throb and spill, your walls tightening up against his shaft as hot cum paints them white.
He's high and addicted, already fucking his cum deeper, making sure it goes into every little crease and pore it can reach. You slip your fingers to your clit, trying to get yourself off while he rocks both of you.
"You wanna cum? Wanna milk my cock again huh? Want me to knock you up?" He's stammering it out, words spilling from his mouth in a rush, feeling the burning of his sensitive head as he picks up the pace again, slapping your hands away.
He raises just a bit, pressing one of his large palms on your belly.
His other hand slips to your clit instead, circling and flicking it to make you reach your high before he fills you up again.
Your whining does nothing to slow him down, his motions too rough and almost painful, your cervix bruising up when he presses even harder on your tummy, making your hips buck off the bed.
"Want you to cum...want you to make a mess..." he urges, a low rumble in his throat.
You can only nod, grabbing both of your thighs and spreading them further for him, your pussy open and on display to him to watch as it hugs his cock, slick and dripping.
You have to close your eyes, too embarrassed as you feel the burning sensation surge through you, eyes watering from the pressure as you finally let go. Your whole body tenses up, a low scream slipping out of your mouth when clear liquid splashes over your thighs and stomach, leaking onto his cock.
"Fucking hell" is all you can hear before he stuffs you full again, this time dropping onto your chest as his knees and feet numb out, hot breath tickling your neck as he moans against your skin.
Your weak hands slump on his back, muscles relaxed and barely working.
Someone is supposed to say something...minutes passing by quickly.
Your tired voice fills the room, a soft "Touya..." reaching his ears as you trail off. You're not sure what you wanted to say, but he holds you a little tighter, heart beating faster at the sound of his name.
He kisses your cheek softly, snuggling into the crook of your neck. "Fucking creep".
487 notes · View notes
47crayons · 3 years
Text
so, you want to write a musician?
about me: i play viola and have experience in symphony orchestras, string orchestras, string quartets (+ a few other small ensembles), and solo performances. i've done some light composition, and have friends/family who play other instruments. while my musical history is extensive, by no means do i know everything or speak for everyone.
this guide will focus on classical music/how to portray classical musicians and things that aren't as easily researched.
quick overview of instruments in a typical symphony orchestra
upper strings (violin, viola), lower strings (cello, (double) bass; i've seen viola included here too, but it's more commonly classified as upper strings)
strings also technically includes harp and piano
woodwinds (flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon)
depending on instrumentation, they may also have piccolo, english horn, bass clarinet, contrabassoon
saxophones are not traditionally in symphony orchestras due to it being a relative newer instrument! but this is changing because more contemporary composes are including sax parts
brass (trumpet, trombone, bass trombone, tuba, euphonium)
percussion (depends heavily on instrumentation, but common instruments are bass drum, timpani, snare, crash cymbal, xylophone, marimba)
some things you should research
where the hands are supposed to go!! i'd recommend you look at pictures of professionals in orchestra settings (ny phil, cso, berlin phil are all top tier). some musicians *coughs at yoyo ma* have less than perfect posture when they're performing solos (for the same reasons famous authors can break "rules")
necessary equipment including reeds, rockstops, different kinds of sticks/mallets, rosin, mouth pieces for whatever instrument you're writing
common misconceptions
loose/photocopied sheet music is not aesthetic—it's annoying and impossible to keep organized. folders and binders are fairly common especially when managing multiple ensembles.
original copies are often expensive and required to perform a piece (legally) for profit or otherwise (though i know a few people who have bent this rule)
not all performers are good composers (i myself have very little formal music theory training), but many composers have performance histories.
not all musicians can sing.
perfect pitch is both a blessing and a curse. notes can be slightly lower/higher but in tune with the context of the piece, which drives people with perfect pitch insane.
having perfect pitch does not guarantee someone will be a prodigy, and people don't need perfect pitch to be a talented musician.
drama in ensembles does exist, but it rarely gets in the way of rehearsal. same thing goes for good friends: if your characters have even a shred of common sense, they aren't going to be talking/messing around during rehearsal.
instruments (especially good ones) are extremely expensive. people very rarely store instruments on the wall or other displays for fear of falling.
instruments are very picky and require tuning every time. every time! it doesn't take long anyway. temperature and humidity can and will make instruments go out of tune or damage your instrument if not properly stored.
some people listen exclusively to classical music, but in my experience, that's definitely not the majority
like with anything, most musicians struggle with self doubt at one point or another.
musician culture
getting excited when we hear a piece we recognize
getting frustrated because we can't remember the name of the piece (after all, no lyrics to search)
being horrified when a non-musician actor is playing a musician. yes, we notice. yes, it's obvious.
if people are joking, it's likely to be about: violas (a quick search for "viola jokes" will tell you all you need to know) or trumpets (a reputation for being overly loud, playing and not)
putting stickers (places they toured, their orchestra, or just purely decorative) on cases is common, but not for everyone. same goes for pictures (of family, past concerts, or anything) on the inside.
scrambling for a pencil when the conductor says to mark something. pencils are a musicians best friend :D
asking (and forgetting) how to split double stops/two parts at the same time. sometimes one stand partner will play the top while the other plays the bottom, and sometimes this is split stand by stand.
this has NEVER resulted in a sexual top/bottom joke. please just. don't. also no g string jokes. it's just unrealistic.
awaiting the obligatory "it's one week before our concert, and you sound like this?!" lecture
not talking about music 100% of the time!!! they have lives outside of music (most of them, at least /j). especially to close friends, music is probably not going to be a conversation topic unless something is out of the ordinary (high stress, something funny from rehearsal, etc.)
bragging/talking about how often they practice is generally not welcomed. great, but other people don't need to hear it!
stages are hot and bright. there's no way a performer can see someone in the audience with the possible exception of the first row.
practicing
three words for you: love. hate. relationship.
slow practice (like really slow lots of people recommend half speed; good for focusing on the right notes, tone, phrasing, smooth transitions)
metronome practice (while playing, it's not annoying at all! it's helpful and requires a lot of focus; when NOT playing, it's annoying and loud because it needs to be heard over the playing)
drone practice (having a machine/website/another person play one note in the background; good for tuning and scales)
and too many more for me to detail
auditions
ensembles may have entrance auditions to determine who gets in and seating auditions to determine placement within the section.
adrenaline does not make us play better; it just makes us make mistakes. and then thinking about those mistakes causes more mistakes.
some instruments, especially those with less repertoire, have common excerpts that come up frequently (i can think of one in particular that i've played for three separate auditions this year).
stopping/starting over is not recommended ever, but if you do, it has to be 10x better. most audition judges aren't looking for perfection!! they want to see how your character can keep going after messing up.
sight reading (being given new music, having ~30 seconds to look at it, being asked to play) is never perfect. i don't care how talented your character is; if they think they nailed it, they aren't experienced enough to see all the phrasing/dynamics that they didn't incorporate. no one gets sight reading perfect!!!
perhaps most importantly, musicians are not all the same! they enjoy it for a number of different reasons and have diverse and interesting lives outside of music!!! more information about specific instrument groups under the cut :)
strings
callouses. with the exception of pianists, most string players (and especially professional ones) have callouses where they press down/pluck the strings. i also have one on my right thumb where i hold my bow. cellists and bassists might have them on their left thumb from playing higher notes in thumb position.
hickeys are also fairly common, though only some people get them. upper strings will get these by under their left jaw. cellists may have one from the wooden body resting on their sternum. some people (including hilary hahn and many many others) use a cloth for comfort and to prevent hickeys.
few people want a hickey, but it might suit a character who is constantly trying to prove themselves.
our fingers do not "glide" anywhere. you can get cuts/"string-burns" from pressing down too hard when shifting. cuts like those are the only reason someone's fingers will bleed, and it's rarer than you think.
upper strings are more prone to back/neck problems from the way they hold their instruments on one side. see also: shoulder pain.
finger cramps happen. they aren't too common, but most if not all strings have experienced at least one.
pianos require tuning every few years or else the chords will be out of tune. few pianists can tune their own instrument because of how complicated it is.
piano parts/accompaniments will have so. many. pages. a page turner may sit on the right of the pianist to turn the page.
woodwinds & brass
spit. so much spit. some instruments clean afterwards with a cloth; others have a spit valve which is as gross as it sounds.
proper embouchure, or how a musician uses the muscles in their face/lips, is tiring, and people actually get strong cheek muscles. they can also easily turn red, but it varies based on a person's facial complexion. see also: good lung capacity.
flute and piccolo are not dainty. piccolo requires as much air as a tuba. an old teacher of mine almost passed out playing piccolo when she was in college.
flutes and piccolos are high, but often not shrill depending on the level of the ensemble.
reeds last a few weeks (less if your character plays for hours a day) and can be expensive to buy.
keys and valves can get sticky especially on older instruments which can result in the wrong note or bad tone.
saxes, clarinets, flutes are more likely to "honk" on low notes.
oboes are more likely to feel "wispy" on high notes.
articulation comes from the tongue, especially for brass instruments, and conductors may ask for "tah" "pah" or "wah" sounds depending on the style of the piece.
percussion
callouses from the friction between hands and sticks/mallets.
there are so many types of sticks and mallets!!! make sure to take a look at what materials are good for what instruments/sounds.
cymbals, triangle, and bass drum are not easy to play, even though they look simple.
percussionists with the exception of timpani may play more than one instrument during a piece, and they're constantly moving around in the back during their rests.
percussion instruments are too expensive for most people to have everything they ever play. practice pads are very common in place of these instruments.
ability to play one instrument doesn't translate to different instruments. for example, many percussionists don't have experience playing set/drum set.
some of the things detailed here are heavily glossed over, so if you have any questions, i'd always be happy to talk about it with you; i may not have answers, but i will try to help as best i can!!!
since you read this far, have my favorite viola joke.
what's the difference between a violist and a large pizza?
a large pizza can feed a family of four :)
tagging some people who showed interest: @writing-is-a-martial-art @ashen-crest @kg-willie @owilder
282 notes · View notes