#he’s so sharp and angular but that top is so light and soft like him aaaaaa | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forlix · 6 days

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𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・0.6k / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・lee know x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship. lazy kisses & mutual obsession. / 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲・for my @rachalixie: you've done well today (♡´ ˘ `)⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

𝟭𝟴:𝟮𝟮 — There’s a certain novelty to experiencing something for the first time.

Sure, the magic lives on as your love for the thing grows, but no sensation will quite beat out the first time the opening riff of your favorite song hits your ears, the flavor of your favorite fruit splashing onto your tongue, the climax of your favorite film rendering you a sobbing mess in a public theater.

But you walk into your room one Saturday afternoon to glance at the man lying face-up on the bed you share, scrolling absentmindedly with a mackerel tabby curled into his side. Cordate, coral lips that you know by now feel like satin and taste like home, catlike eyes framed by thick lashes that could run makeup conglomerates into ruin; perfect, prim nose and chiseled, angular jaw, strong and sharp enough to draw blood should you run your finger along the pretty perimeters.

You clamber onto the mattress as delicately as you can. Not delicately enough, by Dori’s standards. The cat tosses you a disgruntled look before landing noiselessly onto the hardwood, departing from the room in search of his less disruptive siblings.

Moments later, Minho’s phone is face-down somewhere out of reach; you are straddling his waist and leaning over him, your hands cradling his face so tenderly they’re barely there. You come close enough for wisps of your hair to catch onto the delicate curves of his lashes, for the tip of your nose to bump against his like a greeting from a butterfly.

His soft laugh puffs against the seam of your lips like a breath of your own. “What’s the matter with you?”

He threw the curtains aside and cracked the windows open earlier, letting into the room a shower of late-afternoon sun. It now dyes his skin a dewy caramel, lightens his eyes to pools of molten amber. For some time, you are unable to respond, enraptured by all the wonder that he holds.

Eventually, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, dip down, rid of the distance between you with a soft seal of your mouth his. He doesn’t move until he’s overcome his surprise, but then he brings one hand to your waist, slipping beneath the sheer fabric of your top to press your hips down onto his, and wraps the other around the base of your neck, the pad of his thumb settling over your jugular like a gossamer wing.

You sigh in pleasure and part your lips; he pursues this opening with a fervor, pliant tongue keeping your mouth ajar, head tilting to one side to better savor you, your teeth knocking and limbs entwining in this passionate fray.

By the time you come up for air, the world around you has changed. You’re underneath him now, his hands positioned on either side of your head. His eyes are no longer amber but obsidian, his mouth ravaged and raw in the aftermath of colliding time and time again with yours. The sun has largely vanished beneath the skyline.

You collect yourself just enough to procure an answer to his question.

“Every time I look at you feels like the first,” you whisper.

Minho doesn’t blink, doesn’t breathe in spite of how you’d just kissed the air straight from his lungs, doesn’t believe his ears. For that is the exact way he feels about you, always has been and always will, though you have always been the one to first verbalize the feelings that he doesn’t have the words for.

For some time, he is unable to respond, enraptured by all the wonder that you hold.

Eventually, he combs a hand through his hair, dips down, rids of the distance between you with a hard crash of his mouth upon yours, and there the two of you will remain until it’s no longer light from the sun that sets your room aglow, but that of the moon and a hundred thousand stars.

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neonbyte-if · 5 days

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Under the cut are the basic physical descriptions of each of the main romanceable characters of Neon//Byte!

pronouns: he/him

age: 292 (appears: mid-20's)

height: 5ft11

physique: well-built muscles especially around the chest and arms, he doesn't have a super low body fat percentage so he's less shredded/lean and built more like a fighter.

appearance: light brown skin, Cuban; natural ear-length straight black hair swept back; dark, thick eyebrows; deep red vampiric eyes; full lips; short, thick lateral fangs; one lobe and one helix piercing on same ear.

signature outfit: burgundy t-shirt with a lowkey leather jacket with rolled up sleeves.

pronouns: he/him

age: 32

height: 6ft2

physique: lean muscles, more definition from a lower body fat percentage, he's well-toned when relaxed and has a six pack when he tenses/flexes.

appearance: fair skin, Caucasian; natural brown hair dyed light blond in an undercut, length on the shorter side and spiked up; sharp, angular features; pale green eyes.

signature outfit: purple blazer with combat gloves, pink/purple visor connected to cybernetic jaw attachment (removable).

pronouns: he/him

age: 211 (appears: early 20's)

height: 5ft9

physique: slim & toned, he keeps fit but doesn't have a huge amount of muscle built up.

appearance: light skin, Korean-American; natural black hair styled in straight, tousled curtain bangs; dark red vampiric eyes; sharp, thin fangs; black tattoos on neck, chest, back, arms, legs; a few lobe piercings.

signature outfit: black leather jacket with a high collar and red accents.

pronouns: they/them

age: 28

height: 5ft4

physique: well built muscles from dedicated physical training, they have a lot of strength in the arms and thighs but they're not shredded.

appearance: medium brown skin, Desi; natural dark brown hair dyed ombré teal, chin length and shaved on one side; small mouth with full, heart-shaped lips; big brown eyes; a collection of ear piercings, septum and two nostril piercings on the same side.

signature outfit: nondescript waterproof poncho with the hood pulled up; a few transdermal implants on head and hands/arms for practical usage.

pronouns: she/her

age: 97 (appears: mid-20's)

height: 5ft10

physique: athletic, has the shadow of abs, most of her strength is in the core and arms.

appearance: light Black skin, mixed race African-American/Caucasian; natural dark brown hair in a coily round afro; solid red irises (no visible pupils) with a soft glow from cybernetic modifications; dark glossy lipstick; thick lateral fangs almost double the length of her central incisors; multiple piercings on the cartilage and lobe of her ears; a cybernetic detachable neck fitting.

signature outfit: grey leather, short sleeved jacket with a fingerless cyber-glove on her right hand, and long, dark metallic nails.

pronouns: she/her

age: 23

height: 5ft1

physique: slim and relatively fit, but from poor diet and having to be constantly on the move rather than any physical training.

appearance: rosy light skin, Caucasian; natural dark hair dyed partially pink and styled in two messy high pigtails; pink irises; black lipstick; feminine colored tattoos on ribs and back; cybernetics have replaced both arms (worn, painted metal in appearance), multiple transdermal ports on the side of her neck.

signature outfit: glossy latex-style deep pink/purple rave-style crop top and leggings.

#interactive fiction #if game #if wip #oc: cast #oc: Ramón #oc: Ry #oc: Dom #oc: Emery #oc: Zoia #oc: Aura #tsc: neon byte

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rrriver · 1 year

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I really like your writing but could you stop writing about trans people? It's sinful and wrong. Thanks

sir...... I think you were talking about this fic, and all ima say is, since you asked so nicely, here's some more.

637 words of t4t tentacle debauchery with raindrop

Rating: Mature/18+

“Rainy, please” Dewdrop's voice came out broken and shaky. He's been sprawled out for Rain, laying open and vulnerable, dripping slick onto the bed like a leaky faucet.

Rain looks up from where his face is nuzzled into the little ghouls wiry thigh, fangs glinting in the low light as he grins.

“Beg for it, firefly.” The look in Rain's eyes is almost predatory, dark and demanding. He's been teasing Dewdrop on and off for the last hour, switching between suckling his fat clit and nipping at his thighs. Never really giving him what he really wants.

“Please rainy, please make me cum, i need it ple-”

Rain cut him off with an all consuming kiss, licking into Dews hot mouth as he ran his hands over his perfectly perky tits. They were small, but the perfect size to fit in Rain’s hands. Rain twisted a bejeweled nipple between his fingers, chuckling as the fire ghoul breaks away from the kiss, gasping for air and whining. His back arched up to meet the calloused fingers, his head rolling back into the pillows as his mouth fell open.

Placing little kisses along his shoulders, Rain presses his knee into Dewdrop's dripping cunt, grinding against his clit. Dew keened at the stimulation, his hips bucking up against his own accord. Rain shifted his position so his own throbbing clit is rubbing against the little ghouls sharp hip bone, the angular plane pressing into him at the perfect angle.

“Oh satanas, Firefly, fuck, I love you. You know that? I fucking love you.”

A soft blush dusts its way over Dews cheeks, spilling over onto his neck as he covers his face in his hands. Rain lets out an annoyed chitter as he wraps his fingers around Dews little wrists.

“No, I wanna see you. I wanna see you cry when you cum. You're always so pretty like that.”

Rain knows what his mate wants, but he can't help but tease him first. He can already feel himself losing control, his half glamour flickering at the edges, his pulsating length threatening to grow into a slimy appendage. Dewdrop brings his hands to paw at Rain's chest, pushing him weakly, his arms quivering with the effort.

"Raaaaaiiiinn!" Dew groaned at how needy his voice sounds, high pitched and feminine in his own ears.

Rain pulled back, placing his hands on either side of Dewdrop's little body, finally letting his glamor slip away.

His normally hidden fins popped out along his forearms, running down his calves. With a little more concentration, a thick slimy tentacle-like appendage unfurls from where his clit rests. The slimy tendril pokes itself against Dewdrop's cunt, wriggling against his opening before sliding in.

Rain can't help the moan that bubbles through his chest, shifting his position so it has more room to play.

The tentacle fucks itself in and out of Dews hole, squelching at every pull.

“Oh fuck, Rain” Dew felt his orgasm barreling towards him, his face turning a lovely shade of crimson with the embarrassment of how quickly he’s losing his composure.

Rain isn't very far behind, his tentacle is so much more sensitive and Dew's hot, wet body wasn't helping.

He rocks his hips once, twice, three times before he feels Dew clenching and spasming around him as he cums with a loud, reedy whine. His body pulled Rain into his own climax, shuddering as his vision clouded and his ears rang. He collapses on top of the little ghouls body, a tangle of sweaty, slick covered limbs. Dew drags his fingers through Rain's damp curls, a pur kicking up in his chest as he chirped happily.

“I love you.” Rain's voice was slurred with the afterglow and muffled where his face was pressed into his mates chest.

“I love you too, amica mea.”

#like the fuck?#youre reading about creatures from hell pissing on eachother #and thats what you choose to complain about?#fuck outta here #the band ghost #shitghosting #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #nameless ghouls #the band ghost ficlet #riverwritesbullshit #fill that boy up with water ghoul tentacle slime #raindrop t4t #and the masses want t4t ghouls #anon

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arcielee · 5 months

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28 and Billy x (my) girlfriend reader? 👉👈

Lyrics // "Scars are fading every day You seem a little more like yourself"

This drabble exists in the same universe as Lazy Sunday, just delving into how they first met. I hope you like it! 💜

It could be said that fate waited to weave Billy into your life, but you have never believed in that sort of thing.

You would say it was purely happenstance that the coffeehouse was hiring after your quarter-life crisis that pushed you to withdraw from your university and live damn-near a nomad for half a year. You had sold most of your belongings to weightlessly flit across Europe, creating a constellation of cities visited until your fundings ran dry.

At first your parents had been empathetic, thrilled even that their prodigal daughter returned to London, and even offered you to stay with them with your promise to enroll and finish your degree. You balked at their proposition, transitioning to flat-out refuse, and instead found your independence at this antique coffeehouse and a newfound passion for creating artwork in microfoam, with a natural skill that you quickly became renowned for.

This was how you met Billy.

He moved as if he did not wish to draw any attention to himself, but your eyes noticed him, his long and lithe frame, and how he needed to dip to pass through the door to enter. There was an awkward grace with his gate as he moved towards the till, a flush staining his skin and the glisten of perspiration from a long day that was coppering his disheveled sandy locks, curling onto his brow and the back of his neck; there was a matching mess of stubble across his angular jaw.

Despite the shop’s display to showcase your niche talent, he still quietly asked for a flat black.

You watched him, your skepticism tucked away behind your now mastered customer-service-smile, as his slender fingers rummaged to pull out three £1 and one 50p coins that clanged onto the wood countertop.

He then sat at the end of the bar, solemn and quiet, stirring in seven sugar packets and sipping gingerly. Your eyes would return to him and his morose air; there was something heavy on his wiry shoulders and it seemed to hunch him over his mug.

In truth, he was kind of pitiful, and it tugged at your heart in such a way that when he finished his cup, you were quick to refill it without him even asking. It was then that he properly met with your gaze and that was the first time you saw his brilliant blue eyes that almost glittered under the fluorescent lighting. His lips curled with his soft smile when he thanked you.

You could not help your smile in return.

He came back until it was habitual, always near the end of the day, the end of your shift, to a point that you found yourself making a fresh pot so the coffee would be warm and ready for his arrival. Billy–as you learned his name–showed himself to be an open book with any question you dared, and you enjoyed his low cadence as he shared about his life decisions that inevitably brought him here.

The shame burned bright from him and your hand seemed so small when you reached across to lay it on top of his own, a light touch, your thumb drawing small circles. Billy was flustered with the gesture, his rose coloring bringing a new tensity so his eyes were now the same cerulean that stretched over a cloudless summer sky.

“Why are you so nice to me still?” The conflict played across his sharp features, his obvious want for a connection but his own skepticism of your genuineness.

You offered a small smile. “I like you, Billy,” you admitted, squeezing his hand for a moment. You then understood he would never make a move. “Let me finish closing up and I am going to take you to dinner.”

His flush darkened. “I’m still in my work clothes–”

“And I’ll be in mine.” You interrupted with your laugh and his lips quirked in the corners slightly. “It won’t take me very long, wait for me?”

And Billy did, finishing his coffee before pushing away from the bar so you could finish wiping it down. You could feel his eyes on you, brighter now, flitting along with your every movement until you finally stopped to stare back at him, arching an eyebrow to dare him, relishing in the lines that dimplied his cheeks with his shy smile.

You could not help but smile back; in part it was because you did actually like this pitiful boy, but also your quiet realization that the weight Billy had been carrying since he first came in had seemingly lifted from his shoulders on this night.

Spotify Wrapped 2023

#☆ Spotify Wrapped 2023 #billy blushing because he has a crush #billy washington x you #billy washington x reader #billy washington #just some fluff

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jinx-on-mars-19xx · 7 months

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How To Break a Devil

Not Natural ✨ The Devil's Trap ✨ Holy Water ✨ The Demon's Altar ✨ Midnight Meeting ✨ The Hunter's Trap ✨ Sharp Secrets and Bloody Blades ✨ A Hunter's Beast Tamed ✨ No Chick Flick Moments ✨ Witches, Bitches, and Beasts ✨ Cursed or Not ✨ Poison Lips and True Love's Kiss ✨ Swallowing Hard Truths ✨ Salt and Burn ✨ Five More Minutes ✨ A Hell of an Identity Crisis ✨ Spilling Tea and Baring Teeth

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: SPN inspired, ABO dynamics (knots, slick, heats), d/s dynamics, demon Kells, hunter Dom, PTSD, good memories that feel like nightmares, crying, fear, desperate boys, worried Dom, begging, biting, blood play, blood drinking, past SA mentioned, fingering, improper proper use of slick, hand job if you squint, insults, teasing, bratty boys, sex unprepped, tearing, pain being pleasure, bottom Kells, top Dom, blade use, cutting for sex, so much blood, slight body worship, seriously Dom drinks so much blood, cum tasting, rough sex, even more teasing, hurt/comfort, boys not so secretly in love ⚰️ rating: explicit if you can't tell

Keliphos didn't sleep but at times he let his mind drift until he found something that seemed like rest. His thoughts would float in a soft middle ground of alert and peaceful, and his body would feel lighter. Almost fuzzy. He hadn't let himself much in his past, anytime he did it would turn nearly instantly dark and painful but since finding Dominic he'd touched something like rest for the first time in his life that he could remember. After the intensity of their day and his almost fight with the witch nothing seemed more ideal than drifting away. It started as trying to soothe his boy and he held him close, letting Dom's body heat and heartbeat lull him.

In that dream-like hazy space his thoughts turned liquid and memories dripped through his consciousness. Normally he would only see his lover if his emotions were light or he saw the thousands of years of darkness that came before they met. For once his brain seemed to go all the way back, probably triggered by what the angel said. The new visions were almost worse, at least when he was seeing hell he knew he could handle it. Seeing flashes from a childhood he was barely allowed was a new kind of torture. He couldn't be sure what was real and what was wishful thinking. All he knew was that his heart felt broken.

The grass that surrounded him glowed like thin emeralds and strands of jade and felt like silk against his skin. There were dew drops that reflected the sun and tickled his feet as he toddled along after… someone. He just couldn't help getting distracted by bright flowers and beautiful bugs. "Ma!" His voice was small and light, something he hadn't been in… ever. "Ma? Mi?" He didn't remember who he was calling for but he ran after them anyway, he knew when he saw them everything would make sense. A person was ahead, kneeling down to pick herbs and he knew if he just reached them- at the last moment hands wrapped around his ribs and picked him up gently. "Col darling, your mother is busy. Would you like to help Mitéra pick an apple for your breakfast?" A familiar voice asked gently as he was set on someone's hip. He could barely bring himself to look away from his mother as he worked but the thought of helping with breakfast made him feel grown. His gaze turned up and he smiled at his other caretaker but the sun was blinding him to their face. "I've got you sweet boy, let's surprise him, yes?" Col giggled and nodded, twirling his so small fingers in wild curly hair and as they started to walk to the orchard they came into sharper view. A soft but angular face, a gentle smile, and silver eyes...

Kells choked on too many emotions as his eyes snapped open and he gasped for breath. Everything felt cold and he shivered but he could feel himself drenched in sweat. His hearing seemed gone, just a loud ringing in his ears that made tears burn his eyes and he shook, curling in a ball to try and hold himself together.

The first thing that hit his ears beside that was his lover's worried voice and the door closing before the Hunter rushed back to bed. Dom crawled up to lay in front of him, his worry thick in the room. He'd never seen his devil scared and he wasn't quite sure how to handle it. "Kells? Keliphos? Look at me. I've got yas." His touch was gentle as he cupped the demon's cheek. He was slick with sweat but frozen all over and his blue gaze was wide like a frightened child. Dom had faced demons and ghouls and so much else but nothing had shaken him like that.

Jade eyes came into view and the beast was finally able to breathe. He didn't mean to but he grabbed the boy too hard, wrapping his arms around him and pulling them flush together. "Sorry. Shit I'm sorry. Fuck-" He mumbled apologies on repeat though he wasn't sure why. For showing emotion? For having a moment where he wasn't pure alpha evil bastard? For existing?

"'Ush you. Don't be. Only fairs I get to take carea you." Dom smiled, pressing a kiss to the nephalem's pulled thin lips. "Wha' ya need? Wha' 'appened?" He couldn't help but wonder.

Kells swallowed a whimper and glanced to the closed door. He knew somewhere out there was Tom and more than likely he was listening. Oddly enough for once that almost made him feel… safer? "I saw him. I… I remembered. It- fuck." He couldn't express what it felt like to know he'd had even a moment's peace before knowing the human. All he'd ever remembered was literally hell. He swallowed hard, tapping his fingers against Dom's back to magic away both their shirts. There was something so soothing about skin to skin contact and his mate smiled, pressing their foreheads together.

"We'll find 'im. Good or bad we'll find 'im. Can I 'elp?" The punk purred a promise that he hoped he could keep. Whether it was good news or bad they would find Ramiel. The universe owed his alpha that much. His blunt nails danced over the devil's inked spine, a soft pet like Tom would do for him after his nightmares. He felt terrible for having gotten up at all but after his nap his stomach had woken him with a grumbling pain. He'd been starving yet again but his best friend's soup had only done so much.

"Please?" Kells begged, his mouth pushing back against Dom's a little rougher. A little more desperate. He needed the cobweb emotions of his dream to vanish and he needed to feel something good. "Make it stop?" He rasped against plush lips, his tongue searching out that sunlight and honey taste. He choked on a sob when he realized why his mate was so fucking comforting, whether he could remember it or not Dom smelled like that meadow and tasted like the fruit he was fed. Buttery sweet and tart, fresh and juicy.

Dom felt lost at the painful sound his alpha made but he thought he knew what the devil was asking. When his hands wandered between them to try and get his pants undone it pulled the other man back like he was on a lead. Snap- their pants vanished and their hands wandered, Kells was shivering and cold but Dom was always so fucking hot. Everywhere they touched Keliphos came back to life. He was so desperate to feel better he pushed a little too rough and rolled his omega over.

A soft noise escaped the Hunter when his spine hit the mattress. His legs automatically started to fall open because it was a position he was getting used to being moved into but when the beast shook his head once he had to fight not to gasp. Dom took a deep breath, he knew he needed to stay calm but suddenly he was trembling too. As he watched his devil toss a leg over his waist he tried to calm his nerves. He didn't ask if Kells was sure, that felt insulting to the moment but when fingers wiggled between his wet thighs he jumped.

"Sorry." Col whispered, gathering a mess of slick in his palm. He knew his hands were frozen but it wasn't just that making them twitch. This was new for them both, it was the only thing he had to give to the kid and technically even that had been stolen. He kept expecting to be stopped. He kept waiting for the- 'are you sure?' but the words weren't coming. Dom trusted him to know what he could take and it made him feel even stronger. For just a moment he let his touch explore, his fingertips spreading his lover's folds, the middle one slipping inside just to make sure the punk was excited. He knew he'd jumped from zero to one hundred and they were both a little lost but the moment he pulled his hand away he saw the Hunter's dick jerk.

Dom watched closely. His devil was sitting on his thighs, his own legs spread wide and his cock half hard and almost ghosting him tip to tip. Long slick wet fingers curled around his shaft and the filthy sticky noises made him whimper. He'd been touched plenty by his lover but it felt different when they both knew the intent, he wasn't jacking him off- he was getting him ready. "F-fuck Kells-" He whined, his spine arching. The beast had such a large hand he barely had to stroke. The omega wasn't small by any means but he wasn't like his man. He worried he'd still hurt the nephalem though.

There were still tears in Col's eyes that he couldn't blink away. He'd never felt so ripped open but Dom wasn't looking at him any differently. He always stared like Keliphos was something special. Those jade eyes were soft but full of need. Part of him wondered why his body wasn't responding like it was supposed to, he had the kid laid out naked and shaking and absolutely gorgeous- but he knew he wasn't throbbing yet because he was overwhelmed. He was feeling more than he was used to, from the memory and because of what they were about to do. He kept reminding himself of the rapture he felt when Dom touched him inside but a finger was vastly different from a cock.

"You gonna be a pussy about it?" The Hunter teased, they always insulted each other. Being assholes was their love language honestly and thankfully the comment did exactly as he hoped.

Kells scoffed a laugh, squeezing a little too tight around the kid's dick until he squeaked. "Since I don't fucking have one…" He grumbled, making sure Dom was wet base to tip before he pulled his hand up to his mouth.

Dom growled when his alpha sucked his palm clean. He didn't enjoy his own taste very much but his lover acted like he was candy and it drove him just a little more wild, especially when he saw Kells was finally getting hard. He took a chance and reached out, his hands tugging softly at the nephalem's hips. The position felt strange, he was used to being the bitch but he had to admit the devil was gorgeous as he crawled forward and paused- his ass hovering above Dom's cock.

"Need me to-"

"Shut the fuck up- just give me a second. Pushy brat." Keliphos grouched, taking a deep breath to relax his tense muscles. His ass felt like a vise and he worried he'd hurt his mate but the only thing he could do was try.

"It's alright. Jus' more man 'an you. It's okay to admit tha- oh fuck!" The boy was mid tease when Kells dropped but instead of going inside they slipped together and their bodies hit hard. He fought not to whimper when his dick throbbed for a whole new reason but it wouldn't be sex between them if they didn't come out a little bruised. He leveled a playful glare at his devil and reached between them, holding his shaft steady as his other hand guided the demon down.

His finger hovered between them, making sure they were lined up perfectly and when his tip teased against that tight bud he started pressing. "Deep br-mmmfuck-" He tried to soothe but his alpha was determined. He didn't know why the man needed it to hurt but he knew it must sting and he couldn't help tracing his hole as the demon dropped slowly. It was intoxicating feeling it open around him, the skin stretching so much it must have split.

When they were pressed hip to ass he pulled his hand free, not at all surprised to find his fingertips pink. It was his turn to salivate for the taste of his lover and he pulled the blood to his lips. Keliphos caught his wrist at the last moment and he growled low. He'd been denied far too long and he was getting desperate. His bubbling rage was only held back because his alpha felt too damn good wrapped around him and clenching. He took a breath, trying to calm both his need and his urge to bust way too soon but his man summoned a small dagger to his hand.

"Not yet." The nephalem whispered, setting the knife down next to them before he leaned down closer to Dom. He was trembling. He wasn't used to feeling so raw and the way he had to move his body made him feel dirty in the best realest way. He was an alpha, alpha's weren't supposed to get fucked but the first time his mate brushed his spot he started to understand. "Oh-" He whined softly, hiding his face against Dom's hair as the Hunter's hands started to wander. Everywhere the kid touched his nerves felt on fire, he knew he had goosebumps all over. He almost asked if that was how it felt to be human but he knew it wasn't. The human made him feel way too intense.

Dom felt the hair on his body stand on end. Electricity made the air thick and hard to breathe but maybe that was just the weight of what he was given. His mouth felt dry, his lips swollen, and he didn't know if he could flush hotter than he was. His thighs were drenched with slick, every bounce of his hips made them squelch and somehow it was louder than where they were joined. Kells was a mess already, little moans and whimpers escaping him with every thrust. Dom could feel the devil panting against his hair, his hot breath like steam between them. His teeth were chattering- making him bite gently at the human's hair but he didn't care. He just wanted to be able to see him.

Blunt nails scratched up the demon's spine and he full body shuddered, his knot pulsing and leaking a puddle of precum between them. Their bellies were sticky wet, gluing together when they pressed too close and when Dominic nipped at his shoulder he finally pulled back enough to meet his eyes.

"Fuck." The curse felt like a prayer on Dom's lips when he finally caught sight of his alpha again. His eyes were still blue, shiny wet, and so wide. Their pace stayed steady as he found his own spot and kept the boy's cockhead right fucking there. He shook with his building pleasure and reached for the blade, not so carefully running it across the side of his neck. His omega groaned, his pupils blowing and his fingers gripping tight. Kells knew he'd be bruised and he'd keep every one of them as long as he could. His lover looked almost feral as crimson dripped over his pale pink skin but he still waited. No matter who was on top a part of him would always know who was alpha- he wouldn't strike until given permission, not when he knew the nephalem needed to feel in control.

Something inside the devil almost snapped as he sat up slowly and watched his omega get drenched in red. It was his second favorite color, especially on Dom and it clashed so perfectly with his creamy freckled skin. He settled back, grunting when it shoved the punk deep and he circled his hips just to watch the boy writhe. Nails scratched down his thighs but the boy didn't draw extra blood, he just started at what was rushing down Keliphos to splash over his stomach and drip on the bed. His man was a vision twisting and teasing him and he knew he was drooling for the beast.

"Please?" Dom whispered into the air between them and Kells fell forward against him. That was all he needed, to know he was wanted and when he pressed the wound to the Hunter's lips he was instantly devoured.

Arms wrapped tight around the devil's back and Dom pulled his legs up behind him. His pillow plush lips sealed around the wound and he drank deep as he let himself off his leash. Kells cried out like a bitch in heat as the kid stopped holding himself back. The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed off the walls but all he could truly hear was the omega's happy feeding moans.

Keliphos clawed at the sheets as he trembled in his boy's hold, his stomach tight with building pleasure. It felt like heat and butterflies and something he couldn't name but there was a pressure budding as his shaft was pressed tight between their grinding stomachs. Dom had lost all rhythm the moment blood hit his lips but suddenly he was rolling them over and all but rutting against his ass. Col hadn't expected his bitch to take charge and the knowledge he'd driven him so wild is what finally broke him.

The clench around Dom's cock went from tight to so intense he couldn't pull back out and he felt his alpha's knot pop between them. He tried to grind them closer together as the red on their chests turned to pink. It always amazed him how much his lover came but to feel it against his skin was overwhelming. His hips bucked hard, his shaft grinding deep, he was so close it almost hurt. "Pl-please?" That normally rough voice begged softly and maybe that was all he'd been waiting for.

Keliphos almost cried when he felt his lover shatter and white heat pumped inside him as slick dripped against his skin. He couldn't do more than hold tight and wring out their pleasure together but Dom was just as lost in him. The boy didn't spill much- he never did, but it still made him flush that he was filled with his Hunter's spend.

He didn't know how long they kept moving, it wasn't like they were locked together so he wondered if Dom would just get hard again and keep going. Eventually the kid pulled away from his throat and he let the cut heal enough to stop bleeding. His omega gave him a happy crimson grin, his body slowing to a stop until they were mostly just staring at each other. "Ya woozy?" The human hummed, his lids heavy over far away jade eyes. Maybe he should have stopped him sooner but he was definitely drunk on the devil and honestly it made Kells love him all the more.

Instead of saying that he teased- "Your dicks not that good." But of course Dominic just grinned and kissed him again.

"Oh? It's not?" He asked, sliding his hips back before slamming them forward and the demon cursed so loud they both blushed.

"Ffff-uck you!"

"I mean, if ya want but can ya get it up again so soon?" The boy purred, licking the pink mess of blood and spend off his alpha's chest. "Feel better?" He asked softly. He wasn't trying to bring anything bad up but he had to check. If he could do anything to help he wanted to, he couldn't count the times Kells had been there when he woke up shaking and scared.

"Shut the fuck up. Drink your spunk so you can grow big and strong. You obviously need it." The devil huffed back, smacking the back of his head softly.

Dom's nose wrinkled and he gave the wanker a look. He was going to do it obviously but did he have to call it that? "I fink you know I'm grown."

"Hmm?" The devil teased, clenching around Dom's dick until they both shuddered. "Eh. Maybe. Comparatively-" He winked and the kid scoffed.

"Be glad. Be fankful. You couldn't take tha' like I can." The human teased but he was happy they felt back to normal. He knew the pain and fear wasn't gone for good but for a little while at least they were okay. His man was grinning and his belly felt content- he was well fed and Kells seemed well fucked. That was all they really needed wasn't it? Even if they had to needle each other about the manliness of taking a monster cock. If anything that just made him love his beast all the more.

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 🖤

Have a little smut with a little plot if you squint. I hope you enjoyed it! I was a little dead today. Why is Dom so addicted to Col's blood? Why was Kells seeing such a familiar face in his dream? Will he be able to confront him or will it all be a mess? Keep reading to find out! Thank you so much!!🖤⚰️

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malibuhabits · 1 year

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helloooo! another snippet from my 90’s fame au. find me on ao3 @ chevymalibu and read the tags and notes carefully!

DEAD ASLEEP (Dreaming Away Your Life)

Once dressed in his new underwear and jeans, Eddie walks barefoot towards the light gray backdrop that has people bustling around it, testing lights and cameras and other tools like their lives depend on it. He sees Vickie having a conversation with a tall and freckled girl, and since the tiny but terrifying redhead is mad at him for once again being a horrible client, he chooses to let them talk and keeps to himself. Just standing there in his boring clothes, wishing he was drinking in his hotel room instead.

He doesn't get to be alone for long, as he never gets these days, Phil already joining him with-

Okay, wow.

Steve Harrington.

Listen. Of course Eddie is familiar with him. The whole globe has been obsessed with the face that’s launched countless luxury brands and magazine covers.

Still, seeing him in real life… nothing could’ve prepared Eddie to the vision.

Thin, bony, and angular, a bit hunchbacked, beauty marks all over untainted skin. Sharp jawline, pretty pink dusting cheeks, unintentionally pouty lips. And that chestnut hair’s just as fluffy and impressive as it’s famous for.

But it’s the eyes that seal the deal. Droopy, drunken and dreamy, basically pools of liquid hazel, holding the spectators charmed and spellbound.

Maybe this photoshoot won’t be such a drag after all…

“Eddie,” Phil tells him, “This is Steve. You’ll be working together in this campaign,” as if it wasn’t previously agreed upon.

They shake hands.

Steve’s is soft and undamaged like it hasn’t done manual labor once. Eddie’s hands are calloused, firm and strong. Steve wears one signet ring on his pinky, Eddie has four chunky ones. The contrast shouldn’t be as deliciously intriguing as Eddie makes it out to be.

“Hello, nice to officially meet you,” Steve says with a hint of accent. It’s light, but it’s there. And it’s unreasonably sexy.

Eddie’s is half chubbed already.

Understandably, he can’t really be blamed for putting on his most wicked grin, showing off his famous dimples and sharpening his heated eyes. See, it’s his thing, being unapologetically raunchy. It’s his brand. People love it.

Usually…

“Pleasure’s all mine baby boy, believe me,” he practically purrs, can’t help it.

Steve gives him a look, head to toe. It’s not a polite one. It’s calculated and frosty. Stand-offish.

Says something in French to Phil who quickly claps his hands like a dorky dad breaking up an argument. “Well boys, I have a few things to put in order, so warm up a little and get more comfortable. Ten minutes tops, and we’ll start with the video and move on to the photos. Sounds good?”

Eddie notices how he casually squeezes Steve’s narrow waist before leaving. He wishes he could do that too. Wishes he could touch Steve and make sure he’s real.

He’ll get the chance to. It already feels inevitable.

He rakes his eyes down Steve’s body, only now noticing that instead of blue jeans he’s wearing a satin dressing gown that’s loosely tied. Really loosely. It’s teasing, it’s a statement, and Eddie is sure there isn’t a single person in this studio who wouldn’t kill to untie the barely-there knot themselves. Nor are there many whom Steve would forbid from doing so.

When Eddie’s gaze lands back to his face, he’s pleasantly surprised to see Steve’s eyes already on him. He’s reading Eddie’s face, gorgeous eyes darting swiftly before settling and narrowing accusingly.

“Aren’t you going to apologize?”

Eddie’s eyebrows jump high in surprise and if he was intrigued before it’s nothing compared to this. He knows a spoiled brat when he sees one.

“Apologize for what, princess?”

“For being late. It’s rude you know, or did the circus you grew up in fail to teach you any manners?”

So. Not only a brat but a full-on bitch too.

And the worst thing? It’s kinda Eddie’s weakness.

Naturally he has to mock a little.

“Aren’t ya clever,” he drawls sarcastically, “were you born this witty or did daddy pay for private lessons?”

Haughty roll of eyes and an impatient sigh. “Still waiting that apology.”

continue:

#steddie #steve and eddie #steve harrington #steddie brainrot #steddie au #eddie munson #supermodel!steve #rockstar!eddie #fame au #90s au #steddie fanfiction #my writing #bratty steve harrington #snippet #famous eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie munson and steve harrington

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tojoclantiger · 1 year

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KAZUYA

Kazuya raised an eyebrow at the shadow that suddenly fell across his desk. He waited to see what she would do. Four black hands with multi - jointed fingers first pulled at his back, toying with the fabric of his shirt. After a bit of play, they settled : two at his waist and two on his broad shoulders. With the faintest noise of complaint, the Queen leaned into Kazuya. Her angular head bent toward his ear.

[ You see me, ] she stated simply, solid compound eyes glittering in the gloom. Their many facets shone with the creature's sharp intelligence.

Kazuya smiled. The Queen's voice was beautiful. It was unlike anything else. He could hardly find the words to describe it in Standard. It was almost as if . . . someone poured honey in his ears. Smooth, thick, dripping into one's senses, and curiously sweet.

Without hesitation, he half - turned in his seat and angled his head to kiss her on the lips. The Queen nibbled at his own for a moment, confused at his greeting — but then she remembered. Humans ( similar to his species ) liked to share affection this way. A hard palm came to Kazuya's cheek as the humanoid, bee - like alien shaped her mouth appropriately to fit Kazuya.

Kissing was nice. She liked being able to taste him.

Kazuya shifted in the Queen's grasp, rotating his body fully to face her. This placed her between his legs. "Hello, Regina," he mumbled against her lips, palms ever so gently landing on her hips. He was mindful of her fragile appendages, which included the gorgeous set of wings jutting out from her upper back. They practically glowed in the evening light bleeding through the window and cast the pair in a beautiful golden pool.

She finally moved her head away. The petite creature ( who measured five feet standing upright ) brought all four of her hands to rest at his front. Her antennae were laid back, indicating that she was relaxed. Occasionally, her wings would shift, generating a low buzz that Kazuya knew meant she was happy.

[ Kazuya, ] the Queen replied.

"What's . . . on your mind, Your Majesty ??" he ventured, fingertips trailing leisurely over the divides that existed between various pieces of her exoskeleton. These were bright yellow and shared a hue with the chunky plates on her forearms.

Really, the half - Inadian was glad to ask her that question. It wasn't a subject that he was able to broach often without sounding hollow. His telepathic abilities, inherited from his gifted mother, normally robbed him of such a simple, refreshing inquiry. Perhaps that was part of the reason why he was as fond of the Queen as he was : he couldn't see into her mind. Regina was simply too complex of an organism for him due to the fact that her hive lived within her head, as well. The single time he tried delving in to her mental space ( with her permission ), he had almost lost himself entirely to the overwhelming voices of the worker males and other females that Regina carried with her.

[ My mind ?? ] the Queen asked, placing more of her weight on his torso. Kazuya welcomed the feeling of her soft fuzz brushing along his skin. Like the minute insects that flew around the fields of Old Earth, the fine, bristle - like hairs covering portions of Regina's figure were used for sensing atmospheric changes in her environment. They thickened considerably at the top of her form, creating a striped structure that appeared similar to a collared ruff and partial mane.

"Yours," Kazuya specified. He started to dig his fingernails into her exoskeleton. Scratching at the material seemed to always please her, and the Queen fully pressed her chest to his in delight. The half - Inadian happily inhaled the heavy floral scent that clung to her. "Your mind, Regina — unless you are entirely with the colony right now."

[ Kazuya, ] the Queen repeated.

He blinked, perplexed . . . and then felt the realization hit him directly. "I'm what you're thinking about," Kazuya pieced together. "Did I do — ah !"

Lost in his revelation, he had failed to notice that one of her hands was traveling southward on his body. It was only when the Queen's sharp fingers squeezed his crotch that Kazuya really understood why he was on her mind. The half - Inadian released a rather undignified yelp of shock at the feeling of her freely palming his thin shorts. He couldn't help the bloom of furious pink along his cheeks.

Regina issued a series of short, regular buzz vocalizations in reply to him. She was laughing at his reaction to her toying with this unusual organ he ( and evidently males with a physical structure like him ) possessed. It was very different from what the males in her hive used to bring life to eggs, though the function was close. What existed in the middle of Kazuya's thighs was comparatively fleshy, sensitive, and . . . strangely reactionary. The Queen could already tell that it was changing for her. Regina was hardly opposed to the sensation of it strengthening with her coaxing ; it felt good when it was full. Kazuya's mysterious reproductive organ fit perfectly into the start of her ovipositor, which existed in the negative space between her lower limbs, and the act of him placing it there gave the Queen immense pleasure.

She would have him in her nest every day, if she could.

[ Kazuya, ] the Queen added, lower set of hands switching to his knees. She used these to ease his legs further apart.

"Regina — elskede !" Kazuya said with a bit of urgency in his tone. He grinned apologetically as she looked into his clouded eyes. "The chair isn't built for this ; I'm falling. C'mon, let's . . . the floor is there, I suppose."

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musclelover4826 · 2 years

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So it’s basically the idea is some nerd gets a new backpack. And I was thinking either the new backpack had machinery within it or a parasite. And so the idea is the nerd puts on the new back pack and the back of the backpack ,the one that touches his back, a pocket opens up with tentacles that drills into his back attaching itself to his spin and transforming him into the old owner of the backpack which I was thinking could be a jock

It was dark and motionless. It sucked. It was much better when Host was here but he hadn't been in a while. Then after what felt like eternity there was movement, talking, then the bag being adjusted and the comforting up and down movement of waking. Host was back. Time to feel more again, how exciting! The zipper of the bag opened and a tenticle slides out and starts to reach under the shirt and...how odd. There should be a way to enter already. Maybe not Host? Start to drill a hole and enter Host. This Host is not Host, body is smaller and weaker, needs a external tool to see correctly. This won't do. Where is Old Host? He was ideal. Adjustments are needed for this one.

***

Andrew felt a sharp pain in his back suddenly, like he was stabbed by a small needle or something. Great was there a needle or knife in his new backpack that went overlooked by that goodwill worker? His anxious mind immediately jumped to the worst. His old bag had been the one he used since middle school and the strap that was hanging on by a thread had finally broken. Not wanting to spend the money on a new one he went to a secondhand store and bought this used one that seemed to be in reall good condition. He takes it off to look at it. He didn't notice one of the pocket zippers was open that hadn't been before but a quick look through all the zipper compartments confirmed there was nothing there save for those small packets that get put in bags to keep them smelling fresh on a shelf. Andrew shrugged and zipped everything closed and put the bag back on. He felt a strange itch up his back and neck until it reached his head causing a headache and dizziness by the time he got home. He tried his best to ignore it as he put his notebooks and text books in the back and zipped it up hurrying off to class.

The high school senior insisted on being a straight A student even through this year, despite the fact that colleges didn't judge based on senior year. His headache intensified as his head began to itch as well. The sides of his hair buzzing close to the sides while the top grew out. His hair also started to darken from light brown to dark brown, almost black. He scratched at it, running his hand through it as it swooped to one side styling itself. The itching spread to his face as some dark stubble began to grow out of his previously hairless face. An intense heat overtook his face as his jaw adjusted into a more angular and masculine shape as opposed to the boyish roundness he usually had. The changes moved down as his thin chest burned and exploded out. He coughed as his chest heaved and pulsed out, growing into bigger and bigger pecs until soft squares of muscle hung above his thin stomach. That didn't last long however as thin abs began to pop out and define themselves. His arms felt sore with heat and energy as his biceps and shoulders expanded with muscle. His skin taking on a light tan. His shirt was straining against his new muscles as his eyes gained a strange glow to them and his body moved against his will. Flexing and ripping out of his shirt. His hands pulled off the tattered remains as a dumb sounding chuckle escaped his throat. It was deeper, dumber, and manly. The changes moved down south as his dick grew and his balls swelled up with strong jock seed. His legs firmed up with muscle and hair as his feet grew bigger and stronger as his height shot up. The new Drew smirked as he kept walking to school, Andrew was pushed to the backseat of his own mind as the parasite was planning to apply for the wrestling team.

***

New Host is much more suited now. Increased physical activity and proper nutrition should maintain it. Not sure what happened to Old Host but New Host now looks like Old Host. Vision correction no longer needed. If New Host agrees to take care of this body like Old Host complete control will not be required. Complete control assumed for the next few weeks.

#jock #nerd to jock #my stories #mind control #possession #parasite #request

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venustkiller · 2 years

Text

|freeze your brain| riff

chapter one || freeze your brain

words: 1717

triggers: none

previous || next

Saturday, August 9, 1951

The smell of gasoline and cigarette smoke wafted inside the linoleum building as I entered, a little bell hitting against the door that signaled my arrival. The gas station itself was small, quaint, and there was a slight hum that emitted from the ceiling lights. There weren't too many people inside, but it was just enough that it didn't feel crowded. I entered the station with my sister Melissa in tow, counting her dollars in her dainty hands.

"I'll go pick some candy, grab me a cola, would you?" Melissa asked before walking off towards the snack aisle.

I nodded my head to her and looked around; I saw the attendee standing behind the counter, leaning his body over and resting his bearded chin in his calloused hands. I wondered if it was itchy. I turned and started heading towards the back wall where all the chilled drinks were kept, but I didn't get far. As I turned the corner, I realized my path was blocked by a man.

He didn't seem much older than me, but damn was he tall. From my view, I could see he had sharp angular facial features and had soft brown hair atop his head. He wore average clothes, short sleeves to help survive the summer heat, but they were dirty. Upon further inspection, I noticed he had large biceps with light scars littered on top of them.

I wonder how he got them. He must be a construction worker, helping tear down the neighborhood.

I heard the door open, the little bell chiming and snapping me out of my observations. I sucked in a breath, becoming aware that I was staring at him a little longer than I should have been. I shook my arms a bit and prepared myself to ask him to move, but just as I began to open my mouth, he turned and looked at me, his eyes meeting mine.

I gave a sheepish smile, "Uh, could I-" I gestured as if that would effectively explain he was blocking the Cola and sodas next to the beer he was looking at.

He raised an eyebrow in confusion, turning and seeing the sugary drinks behind him. He looked back at me with a smile that was somewhere in the spectrum of mischievous and flirtatious. He stepped out of the way and I made my way past him.

After getting through, I started my search for Coca-Cola.

"What's ya poison?" he asked after a short moment

"Huh?" I questioned back, a little confused. In the back of my mind, I cursed myself for sounding so nervous.

The smirk he wore seemed to light up his sky eyes, I could see the enjoyment he got upon the way my voice seemed both nervous and excited. It was the kind of excited apprehension that came whenever a cute guy paid me more than a passing glance; which wasn't very often considering my shaggy hair and mannerisms that were far from lady-like. Girls around my age typically were beginning to look for suitable men to marry and have kids with.

Not me.

"I mean, what are you drinking?" he asked once more.

My eyes widened up a bit, understanding the question more clearly, and I let out something between a laugh and a sigh of relief. "Cola, it's for my sister," I explained and turned back to the coolers, searching for the dark soda. I could still feel his eyes on me, and in the corner of my eye, I could see him raise his arm and lean against the cooler, watching me.

I turned to him, "Wouldn't you have more luck flirting with girls at a bar or something?" I asked, trying to sound a bit bold.

He tilted his head, "Flirting?" he laughed, it didn't sound condescending, however, and I silently thanked him for not destroying my ego. "I was just asking what you were drinking, maybe I'm looking for something new." he laughed some more, his face holding an expression as if he was meticulously planning what he was to say next. I could hear Melissa's voice from the other side of the station, calling for me.

"Oh, well, you don't strike me as a cola kinda person," I said, opening the cooler door and grabbing the cold glass bottle. When I closed the door, I turned to see the man had gotten closer to me, still leaning against the coolers but now towering over me.

"What kind of person do I strike you as?" He asked, looking down at me. It felt like he was a head taller than me! He shadowed over me, any closer and I would've been able to feel his breath.

"Well..." I paused, trying to think of how to phrase anything that didn't both come out as needy or offensive.

I was spared when Melissa came from behind him and walked over to me, tugging on my arm. I looked at her, seeing her cheerful self, different kinds of chips and candies in her arms.

"Oh hey, you found it! Let's go check out, yeah?" she asked, leading me towards the front of the station like a parent dragging a child out of the candy aisle.

I turned back to look at him as I was pulled away, "See you later, I guess?" I smiled sheepishly at him before turning back around to follow Melissa to the counter.

Once she had determined a safe distance she turned and looked at me, scowling and letting go of my arm. Now that I'm seeing her face properly, I now understand that her happy mood was just a facade so she could steal me away without causing suspicion.

"What the hell did you do?"

"What do you mean? I got the Cola-" I asked, looking back once more. He either moved further into the store or the corner we were in wasn't as visible as I first thought.

"That guy you were making heart eyes at is a Jet!" Melissa seethed

Honestly, it didn't surprise me, he looked like a Jet. I'm surprised I didn't recognize him considering I see the Jets hanging out near my neighborhood often.

"Who is he?" I ask, wanting to know more. Melissa and I walk over to the counter and she puts all the snacks and candies onto the counter, the affable attendee ringing up the goods as we speak.

"Riff Lorton, the leader. He created the Jets years ago with Tony," she said, handing her wad of dollars to the attendee.

"Wait- Tony? Wyzek?" I ask, shocked. To that, she nodded her head. I had only been working at Doc's for a few months, that being where I met Tony. To hear he is a Jet is incredibly shocking to me.

He looks like he doesn't have a mean bone in his body...

"And you know this, how?" I ask

"Krupke and Schrank are always talking about him, they say he's slick like a snake and creates more trouble than he's worth. Krupke says he isn't even worth a dime," she said, recalling back to moments in the office, overhearing the two strategize on how to keep a tight chain on the wild Jet.

So of all the boys I could've chosen to flirt with, I chose the leader of the most dangerous gang in the city.

Fuck me.

I looked back again and saw Riff carrying a case of beer. I smile at him, taking him in once more. He winked at me and I quickly turned away, a small blush rising to my cheeks. I see the attendee hand Melissa the goods in a paper bag and she takes them. She looks behind me and glances at Riff.

She huffs and turns her attention back to me, "I'll be outside waiting for you. Don't take too long or I'll start the movie without you," she warned before heading out the door.

I turn to the attendee and place the Cola bottle on the counter, "Can I get a cherry slushie? 24 ounce?" I ask. The man nods and goes to make the slushie.

Cherry is the best flavor.

I see a case of beer be set down on the counter next to my bottle and I turn wide-eyed to see Riff.

"Hi again," He smiled, still mischievous and without a care in the world.

"Hi" I grinned back.

"Slushie huh?"

"I wanted something sweet."

"Yeah? Wouldn't mind it myself." He replied

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, something I wish didn't come so easily to me. In response, he chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

I turned and saw the Cola and realized I couldn't open it seeing as it was sealed. "Uhm, do you maybe have something I can open this with?" I asked, picking it up and raising it to Riff. He pulled a switchblade from his front pocket, flipping it open and pressing the dull end under the cap before applying pressure, a soft popping noise emitting when the cap flew off.

He stepped closer to me, our chests just a foot away from one another. He peered down and looked at me intensely, and I looked back up, meeting his soft eyes. From the closeness, I could see his face was dusted with dirt and he had a scar that went across his left cheek.

"Thank you..."

"No problem, sweetheart," he said in his Manhattan accent that was so addictive.

Light reflected in Riff’s eyes and he looked away from me for a moment. He nodded his head at something before looking back at me. “Well, I gotta go, but I’m sure I’ll see ya ‘round,” he winked. I nodded in agreement and he began to walk away from me and exit the gas station. I turned and watched him leave, seeing other Jets surround him and bounce around excitedly. I smile to myself before realizing Melissa is waiting for me. I turn back to the counter as the attendee returns with my slushie. I pull my wallet out of my pocket and hand him what’s due. Once I received my change, I quickly grabbed my slushie and her cola and raced out the door to find her.

"Finally," she pouted

———————————————————————

AN: this first chapter was inspired by collecting-stories’ imagine titled “freeze your brain”

Fun fact, did you know slushies were invented in 1950 after a man’s fridge broke down? He put his sodas in the freezer and they became slush, and that’s how we have them today. Crazy right?

———————————————————————

#west side story #riff west side story #riff fanfic #riff x reader #tony west side story #valentina #original character #fanficfion #musicals #wss fanfic #wss 2021 #wss riff #riff wss #freeze your brain #mike faist #west side story riff #fan fiction writing #writing #blatherbun

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kythed · 3 years

Text

“pillow talk” - a collection of conversations between you and matsukawa issei.

1. october 23rd, 1:03am.

“that was fun.” matsukawa props himself up on one elbow, lower half still covered by a disarray of blue dorm sheets.

you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling your t-shirt back on, but you turn to look at him, smiling slightly. “fun?”

“great. excellent. out of this world amazing,” he says teasingly. there’s a glint in his eye and a flush in his cheeks.

“that’s what I thought.” you make to stand up, but matsukawa grabs your wrist before you can move another muscle.

“you can stay,” he says, face strangely hopeful and childlike (a sharp contrast to the night’s earlier… activities). “if you want, I mean.”

your body aches to climb back under the covers with him, to press yourself against his hot skin and let yourself fall asleep in his embrace… but what you have with matsukawa is new and fragile, and you refuse to close your fist on something delicate and shatter it in the process.

“maybe next time. I have class in the morning.” advanced calculus, to be specific. hell on earth, to be even more specific.

“will there be a next time?” there it is again. that hope.

“if you’ll have me,” you say, rising from the mattress.

“I’ll do more than have you.” he grins, cocking his head. “I’ll take you.”

and there it is — matsukawa issei, ladies and gents. you smile to yourself as you slip out of his room, committing the feel of his hands gripping your hips and his lips on yours to memory.

2. october 27th, 4:36pm.

you stay this time. it’s a weeknight, and there’s class in the morning again, but the bed is warm and matsukawa’s arm fits like it was made for you. he’s nervous, you can tell, what with the way his fingers shake slightly as they brush the hair from your eyes — but that’s okay. it’s endearing. cute, even.

“hey,” he says, voice low and throaty.

“hi,” you respond, turning your face to look at him, his sharp, angular face shaded even more dramatic by moonlight. he really is a little too pretty for his own good, you decide, running a light hand down his torso. his mouth twitches when your fingers skim over his waistband and back up again.

“tease,” he sighs, and you laugh.

“it’s what I’m best at,” you say.

“among other things,” matsukawa concedes, grinning. you gasp and hit him lightly on the chest.

“you’re so dirty minded!” you scold, and he scoffs.

“I’m the dirty minded one? listen sweetheart, twenty minutes ago you were —”

you shut him up with a swift kiss on the lips, swallowing his indignant words as he chuckles somewhere in the back of his throat and pulls you on top of him. you slide your fingers into his mess of dark hair and smile into the kiss until he finally breaks away and begins dusting smaller kisses along your jaw and collarbone.

“you know,” you breathe, trying to avoid gasping when matsukawa presses his mouth to that soft spot right below your neck, “you’re acting awfully boyfriend today, issei. you’d better be careful before I up and decide to make you mine.”

“maybe that’s what I want you do to,” he says without looking at you.

you start in surprise, a small smile creeping onto your lips. “oh, really?”

matsukawa unattaches himself from your neck and takes your face in his hands, staring up at you with a grin. “really.”

“okay,” you say, and in response he squishes your cheeks and laughs. you roll your eyes and tug on his wrists until he lets go. “okay, boyfriend.”

“okay, girlfriend.”

you’d never anticipated a relationship to fall into place so easily. but then again, with matsukawa, everything — everything from his sweet talk to his skin to his stupid pickup lines — is pretty damn smooth.

3. january 1st, 11:24pm.

“you have a nice nose,” he says, running a finger down its bridge. golden afternoon light slices through the gaps in his shutters, casting odd stripes across his face.

“I hate my nose.” you bite back a sheepish smile. “it’s weird.”

“no, it’s cute,” he insists, and despite yourself, your heart swells. maybe it’s silly, maybe it’s shallow, but nothing really beats having someone refute your insecurities, however insignificant they may be. “I’m the one with a weird nose.”

you sit straight up, nearly knocking him back. “you do not have a weird nose. I love your nose!”

“I love your face.” matsukawa gently pulls you back down, gathering you into his chest so he can rest his chin on your shoulder.

“well, it is a pretty nice face,” you say, and he huffs.

“you were supposed to say you love my face, too,” he whines in a small voice. you almost giggle at the thought of this six foot two giant baby-talking to you.

“I thought that was self-explanatory,” you say. “I like everything about you.”

matsukawa shoots you a dramatic glare, furrowing his brows. “yesterday you said you didn’t like my t-shirt.”

“it was a rick and morty t-shirt! I was morally obligated to disparage your fashion taste in that moment,” you say piously.

“so you don’t like everything about me,” matsukawa sighs, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “my girlfriend is a liar.”

“I like everything about you except for the fact that you like rick and morty,” you correct yourself.

“I like everything about you except for the fact that you don’t like rick and morty,” matsukawa shoots back, and you let out an ugly guffaw.

“alright, then. agree to disagree?”

before answering, he leans forward to give you a brief kiss that you return, enjoying the faint taste of spearmint on his lips. “you’ll come around eventually.”

“I really won’t.”

“you will.”

“I won’t.”

“you won’t.”

“I will,” you say, and then — “wait, no. damn it, issei, I can’t believe that worked on me.”

“gotcha!”

4. march 20th, 3:16am.

“dude,” matsukawa says. “we should go out for ramen.”

“did you just call me dude?” you raise an incredulous eyebrow.

“sorry,” he says, sitting upright and pulling on a shirt. “I meant babe. can we get ramen?”

“it’s 3am,” you say, catching the shirt he tosses to you and putting it on. “is there any place nearby that’s still open at this hour?”

matsukawa whisks you out of bed, bridal style, and spins you around, ignoring your protestations as you attempt to scold him between giggles. when he finally sets you down you’re dizzy, clinging to him for balance. “obviously you don’t understand the ramen business. when the craving hits, it hits, and these guys know that. that’s why there’s a 24 hour ramen-ya near every college campus in the country.”

“then,” you say, blinking hard as the room comes back into focus. “I say we go eat.”

“let zem eat ramen?” matsukawa says in a phony french accent. you want to roll your eyes but you can’t quite bring yourself to do so. he’s too damn charming about it.

“let zem eat ramen,” you repeat, and he laughs, rumpling your hair before grabbing his keys off the bedside table.

“you’re adorable.”

“I’m a legal adult,” you sigh. “why do you insist on calling me cute? I’m sexy.”

“you’re cute and sexy,” he agrees, opening the door for you. “the two are not mutually exclusive.”

“fancy words.”

“I’m just trying to impress you,” he says with an obnoxious wink.

5. april 4th, 1:58am.

“do you think there’s life in space?”

you’re lying side by side next to matsukawa, both staring up at his dorm room ceiling, where a handful of plastic stars glow in the dark.

he snickers. “you mean, like, martians? little green men with antennae?”

“sure,” you say, ignoring his jab. “or maybe enormous space whales swimming somewhere deep in the cosmos. galactic empires of cyborgs and robot servants. train stations that take you from star to star.”

“that reminds me,” he says. you feel him slip his fingers into your hand. “we should watch star wars together sometime.”

“you avoided the question,” you complain, and he laughs.

“sorry,” he says. “I’ve never given much thought to huge space whales or interplanetary train stations.”

“you’ve never wondered might be out there? never wanted to fly to the moon and see what there is to see?” the thought is alien (pun intended) to you. how could anyone look into the star speckled sky and see anything other than a mass of worlds waiting to be explored?

“I don’t need to. kinda have everything I could ever want here on earth already.” matsukawa shrugs, flashing you a grin. “good friends. perfect girlfriend. a really excellent ramen shop down the street.”

“and that’s all you need?”

“that’s all I need,” he agrees, and you stay silent, scooting closer to press yourself into matsukawa’s larger frame. maybe he has a point. you count over your blessings in your head: good friends, perfect boyfriend, a really excellent ramen shop down the street. even space whales can’t really compare, you decide, sneaking a glance at issei only to find he’s already looking down at you with a soft smile.

and maybe that’s enough. maybe it’s enough to have someone who loves you and your flaws, someone who lets you borrow his dumb graphic tees and never lets you pay for your own dinner. maybe what you have here with matsukawa issei, feet on the ground and hands intertwined, is enough.

#because i've recently been obsessed with One (1) mr. matsukawa issei #i'm pretty sure i used the i'll take you line before but you know what #screw it #it's smooth and i'll use it however many times i want #haikyuu #matsukawa #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa headcanons #hqcorenet

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ginemrys · 3 years

Note

a bedsharing fic!! <3

i had some fun with this one!!! thank you for sending in the prompt @sunshine-marauders <3

-------

“Lily, it’s okay, we’ll grab a room in a hotel, it’s not the end of the world.” James said as the two of them stood staring up at the boards in the centre of Euston station, tears in Lily’s eyes as she read the bright orange “CANCELLED” sign beside their train, the last train of the night that would get them home.

It had been a wonderful night of visiting the theatre with one of her best friends, getting lost in a musical for a few hours. The two of them had been singing songs from the show to each other on the tube on the way back to their station, not caring as they got weird stares from other passengers on the Northern line whilst they sang a beautiful rendition of All I Ask Of You. And sure, Lily had felt her heart beat a little faster when they reached the point of the song where Christine and Raoul kiss as she looked into James’ eyes, but that didn’t mean she liked him. It just meant that she understood the character, right?

But their sing-along had come at a price. They’d missed their stop. And the next after that. Then the next. It wasn’t until the last passenger left besides them on the train got off at Golders Green that they’d realised their mistake. And then they’d had to run and get the tube back to Euston, only to just miss one. A three minute wait later and they were finally heading back to Euston, getting off to discover that the last train to Northampton was cancelled. And they were stranded in London.

Lily was wiping furiously at her eyes. They’d stopped for a drink in a bar after the show, assuming that they’d have enough time. So the alcohol in her system heightened her emotions, resulting in the water works. James was scrolling through his phone, looking for the closest hotel.

“There’s a Travelodge or a Premier Inn, they’re fairly close. Everything else is ridiculously expensive.” James said, glancing up at her. “Which would you prefer?”

“Premier Inn, duh.” Lily said, pushing her hair out of her face. “Are you sure we can’t get a taxi?”

“From Euston to Leighton Buzzard?” James shook his head. “It’ll be cheaper to spend the night. Come on, it won’t be that bad. It’s just a short walk and then we can grab some breakfast in the morning before heading home.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “What do you say?”

“Fine,” Lily shoved his side playfully, but leaned into his hold after. “But you’re buying breakfast, you’re the one who suggested drinks.”

“Deal.” James chuckled before ducking to kiss the top of her head. “Come on, let’s go. It’s late and we’re both shattered.”

And so they made their way out of the station, following Google Maps to the closest Premier Inn. It was dead quiet inside, just one sleepy receptionist behind the desk barely able to hold her head up.

“Hi, how can I help?” She asked in a monotone voice, having just blinked at the two of them a few times as if she was trying to figure out if they were real or just her imagination.

“Hey, we missed the last train home. Do you have any rooms for tonight?” James asked, running his hand through his hair. Lily watched his movements, eyes following the motion of his fingers brushing through the messy black curls. She wanted to do that, run her hands through his hair. Chill out, Lily. She mentally berated herself, barely hearing the conversation beside her as she tried to sort out whatever the hell was going on with her hormones at that moment.

“Lily?”

“What?”

“Are you good with sharing a bed? There’s only doubles left.”

Holy shit. The thought of sharing a bed with James both thrilled and terrified her. Would she be able to control herself around him? The not crush but definitely a crush that she’d been harbouring for him for the last few months might rear its ugly head and make her do something stupid. But then again, she really didn’t want to have to walk all the way to the Travelodge and have the exact same option, or no room at all.

So she nodded, blushing when James grinned and turned back to the receptionist, passing over his card. Lily tried to protest but he insisted that she could just send him half the money later to save time. Then before she knew it she was joining him in the lift, heading up to the fifth floor. Of course James had had the foresight to ask for some toothbrushes and toothpaste, Lily was far too occupied to even consider such a thing.

Lily decided that she was going to hum to herself the overture to Phantom of the Opera as they travelled up to their floor, her eyes fixed on the ceiling of the lift. And then James’ hand was in hers, pulling her out of the lift and down the corridors of the fifth floor until they came to a stop in front of their room. He swiped the key card and there they were, alone, in a room with one bed.

Her throat felt thick as Lily looked at the double bed, why did it look so tiny? She stood in the small space beside the open wardrobe and the bathroom while James flicked on the lights and moved further into the room, peeling off his jacket and kicking off his shoes as he went.

“Come on, Evans. It’s just a place to sleep.” He smiled at her as he said it, noticing her hesitance. Damn him for being so perceptive to her emotions all of the time. With a deep breath, Lily walked further into the room, setting her shoes beside his while her own jacket draped over the top of his on the chair.

“Here, toothbrush.” He said, passing her one of the two clear toothbrushes he had picked up. “I’ll let you use the bathroom first, gentleman as I am.”

“Oh, so kind.” Lily rolled her eyes while grinning at him, accepting the toothbrush gratefully. She shut herself up in the bathroom, immediately rushing to the sink to splash some water on her face. Why was she so warm? “Get it together, Evans.” She muttered to herself, glancing at her reflection. She sighed as she looked at her makeup, minimal as it was, she had nothing to remove it with. Which would almost certainly result in panda eyes in the morning, but what other choice did she have?

So she left her face alone and focused on brushing her teeth, being a little more thorough than she usually would so James wouldn’t have to wake up to horrific morning breath. God, James was going to see her first thing in the morning. Christ on a bike. She filled one of the small glasses by the sink with water to rinse out her mouth, then gulped another glass down.

James was sitting perched on the edge of the bed when she returned, his eyes meeting hers straight away. Damn, did this man ever stop smiling?

“All… All yours.” Lily said quietly, stepping out of the way as he moved to head into the bathroom.

“Thanks, Lil.”

The door locked behind him and she released a deep breath again, her fingers moving shakily to undo her jeans. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep in them, so wanted to get them off and climb under the covers before he could come back. He wouldn’t want to see her in her underwear.

Jeans folded, with her bra tucked safely beneath them, Lily climbed into the left side of the bed, hoping he didn’t mind that she preferred the left. She plugged her phone into the socket next to her bed, thanking her past self for packing her charger in her bag. And then she waited, sitting cross-legged beneath the duvet as she listened to the sounds of the tap running.

The bathroom door opened and Lily had to do her best not to gasp. He’d taken his shirt off. It wasn’t even like it was the first time she’d seen him shirtless either, but seeing him in a dimly lit bedroom right before he was about to be laying right next to her was something else.

“You don’t mind if I sleep in my boxers, do you?” He was asking, his eyes having taken note of her folded jeans.

Lily shook her head, doing her best to look him in the eyes rather than drool all over his bare chest like some hormonal teenage girl watching Magic Mike for the first time. But then he turned his back on her and was pushing his jeans over his hips and Lily couldn’t help but stare. It was actually so unfair how fit her best friend was now, she could still remember the scrawny little kid she used to swim in the local lake with.

Any shred of sanity Lily had left vanished when he turned to face her again, she could feel a wave of heat rushing all over her body. And he’d seen it happen, had seen her eyes darken and her gaze shift into something hungry.

But he ignored it, electing to just climb into bed beside her and turn out the light, facing away from her.

With a slight huff, Lily threw herself down against her pillow, gazing up at the dark ceiling. Her arms were folded over her chest, her legs still crossed like they had been when she’d been sitting. While annoyed that he’d not responded to her sex eyes, she also just felt embarrassed. Because she’d totally just objectified him, looked at her best friend in the whole world like he was a tree for her to climb and use. And she hated herself for it.

“I can hear you thinking, Evans.” James whispered through the darkness, his back still facing hers. “Relax.”

And she did, her hands slid to rest on her stomach, her legs unfolded and moved to rest against the mattress. Her eyes closed and she let out a small sigh. And then he had to go and roll over, his breath on her neck.

While she knew she should just ignore it, squint her eyes and try to sleep, Lily couldn’t help but turn her head on her pillow, her eyes opening once more. And there he was, looking at her. No glasses, his hair already made even messier than usual from the pillow. He just looked so soft.

Usually James was all sharp edges and angular, charisma dripping from every inch of his body. He was sarcastic and energetic and never ever seemed to get tired. But there, laying in bed beside him, he seemed so calm, so at peace. His sharp edges had blurred, softened by the look in his eyes as he gazed at Lily. And that was what he was doing, gazing.

It didn’t take her much to lean in, just one look from him was enough. Her body turned on the mattress as she shifted to reach his lips, her own brushing his softly. And then she moved to pull away, to see his reaction when he moved, his hand sliding to the back of her neck to drag her closer. His lips covered hers and by god, did it feel right. Lily’s hand came to rest on his chest as she kissed him eagerly, their mouths pressing together in a perfect dance, nothing too eager or too slow.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for months.” Lily whispered when they broke apart, her eyes still closed.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

She looked at him then. There was no trace of a lie in his eyes. She believed him, because of course she did. James never lied to her.

And then she tackled him against the bed and thanked the London Northwestern Railway gods for cancelling the last train home.

#jily fan fic #jily drabble #jily fic

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

Text

Your heart beats like wings

Written for the Teef Week Event in @thewitcherbog.

Ship: Gerlion

Rating: E

CW: Fae!Dandelion, biting (and drawing blood), mating bites (of sorts), wing kink, coming untouched, blow job,

Geralt had always known there was something not quite human about Dandelion. Whenever his golden-haired poet was near, the wolf’s head would hum quietly on his chest, a fact that Dandelion seemed to delight in. Whenever they shared a bed or curled up together on the forest floor, Dandelion’s long lutist fingers would wrap around the wolf, calloused fingertips tracing the fur on its ears and muzzle. But Geralt never asked, and Dandelion seemed content to keep the mystery a secret. Years passed, decades, maybe nearing a century, Ciri blooming into a beautiful young lady, zipping off through time and space, Yennefer still scouring the Continent for a way to take back what she believed was stolen from her, and Regis settling down in Toussaint with a fellow vampire, popping in to see Geralt and Dandelion on occasion.

No one seemed to notice that the seemingly human bard hadn’t aged a day over the cruel winters and burning summers that had passed.

Geralt noticed but he was scared, scared of losing the one constant in his life. If he asked, if he drew attention to it, the peace surrounding them might shatter and he’d be left alone, always waiting for his friends and family to arrive, isolated.

Dandelion hummed, tucking his hair behind his ears before leaning down to press a kiss to Geralt’s neck, sucking a bruise into the tender skin, his hips rolling over Geralt’s cock. Ever the poet, Dandelion murmured a steady stream of praise as he trailed his lips under the line of Geralt’s jaw, whispering rhymes and verses as he nibbled Geralt’s ear.

“What thoughts are rattling through that pretty little head of yours, my darling?” Dandelion asked as he sat up onto his heels, his fingers tracing patterns into Geralt’s chest, not dissimilar to the runes on his swords.

“Nothing to worry about,” Geralt muttered, pulling his husband into a kiss to finally silence him. The words melted into a soft moan as Dandelion’s lips parted easily under Geralt’s, elderflower wine still on his tongue, sweet, delicious, divine.

They kissed some more, lazy and slow, a simmering heat gradually building into something more insistent as Dandelion’s hands finally wrapped around Geralt’s cock.

“You’re lying to me,” Dandelion hummed, hand slick with oil even though Geralt never heard the cork pop. “Tell me, dearest, please.”

Geralt’s eyes fluttered closed, Dandelion’s fingers working magic along his hardening cock, making it difficult to think about anything else. “You,” he finally mumbled, “was thinking about you.”

Dandelion giggled, the sound making Geralt’s medallion vibrate a little more against his chest. “And what about me?” Dandelion asked, his voice ever musical and beautiful, one carefully trimmed nail running along Geralt’s cheek.

“You- you never age, Dandelion. Why?” Geralt asked, feeling his cheeks heat up as he finally voiced the question that had been haunting him for years.

The poet sighed, pressing his face into the crook of Geralt’s neck, fingers wrapped tightly around the wolf medallion. “I was wondering when you would ask, my dear witcher.”

A heavy silence fell over the room as Dandelion sat up, legs resting either side of Geralt’s waist. He continued to trace patterns into Geralt’s skin, until the quiet became almost unbearable, crushing Geralt under the enormity of its weight. The question became a burning sword, ready for Geralt to fall upon, the destruction of everything he held dear. Until, in a strangely vulnerable voice, Dandelion spoke once more.

“Promise not to hate me, Geralt, darling, please.” His voice cracked, shattering along with Geralt’s heart. They may have had their spats over the years but to hear that his husband doubted him so… it was unforgivable. He would spend the rest of their days together trying to make it up to Dandelion, until his husband truly believed how much Geralt loved him.

Geralt took one of Dandelion’s hands in his, placing a kiss to each knuckle before gently turning it over to kiss the palm. “You must think me mad,” Geralt reminded him, echoing words from so long ago, “if you think I could ever hate you.”

And still Dandelion remained silent, cornflower blue eyes locked on his, lacing their fingers together. “Even if I’m a monster?”

If it weren’t for the sincerity in Dandelion’s voice, Geralt would have assumed the poet was joking. How could his husband, kind and gentle Dandelion who threw up at the sight of blood, think he was a monster? The most vicious Dandelion ever got was when he was up against Valdo Marx in a bardic competition, but his old rival had passed many years ago.

“Even then.”

“Are you- are you sure?”

“Dandelion, speak,” Geralt said, squeezing the poet’s hand in his.

“Very well.”

But instead of speaking there was a sudden burst of magic in the room, Geralt’s medallion jumping off his chest, the teeth of the wolf almost snarling as it vibrated wildly. Dandelion’s features blurred and changed, his already sharp cheekbones becoming more angular, the fingers between Geralt’s lengthening, claw-like nails replacing neatly trimmed ones. When Dandelion opened his eyes once more, cornflower blue irises now glowed with slitted pupils not unlike Geralt’s, and when he smiled, Geralt saw a row of sharp teeth glistening between rosy pink lips. His golden ringlets parted to reveal two curled horns, but what really drew Geralt’s attention were the shimmering rainbow wings that unfurled from behind his husband’s back.

He was beautiful.

“Dandelion,” Geralt breathed, unable to think of any other word.

“Hello, Geralt.”

“You’re- you’re beautiful.”

Dandelion’s eyes fluttered shut, a serene expression gracing his lips, and the room seemed to glow from whatever magic the poet was weaving, his hair gently blowing in a breeze that Geralt couldn’t feel. Behind him, Dandelion’s wings beat slowly, catching off the candlelight and sending glittery sparkles of light cascading across the room. It was captivating, enchanting, alluring, and Geralt couldn’t take his eyes off his husband.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice distant to his own ears.

“Hmm, well, I rather think you should,” Dandelion giggled, leaning down to press their lips together.

Geralt’s fingers tentatively reached out to caress Dandelion’s wings, making the poet shudder, a soft gasp falling from his lips, the taste of wild flowers on his breath.

“Again…” Dandelion murmured, and so Geralt stroked along the seemingly fragile veins of the wings until his husband was a quivering mess on top of him, cock hard and leaking onto Geralt’s stomach. “Oh gods, Geralt.”

“I’ve got you, Dandelion,” Geralt hummed, his fingers digging into Dandelion’s thighs as they rutted together, Geralt’s cock aching between the curve of Dandelion’s arse.

“Julian,” Dandelion whispered. “My name is Julian.”

Geralt blinked up at his husband, cheeks flushed bright, the very picture of ethereal beauty. “Julian,” he repeated, “my flower.”

As the name fell from Geralt’s lips, a strange silver light whipped around his husband, connecting his heart to Geralt’s, and he cried out, lost in pleasure as he came, purely from the caresses to his wings. He collapsed forward, sharp teeth latching onto Geralt’s shoulder to muffle his cries. Geralt hissed in pain as the fangs sank into his skin, but the pain soon succumbed to pleasure and he thrust up against Dandelion’s arse, hands still exploring the colourful wings that were so alive beneath his fingers. Every touch tingled against his skin, hot and cold at the same time, magic in its rawest form, making Geralt feel dizzy.

Dandelion moaned, releasing Geralt’s shoulder for barely a second before kissing over the wound. His husband then wriggled from Geralt’s arms, kissing down Geralt’s body as he shuffled down the bed, each kiss was accompanied by a sharp bite until Geralt’s skin was a map of unfamiliar teeth marks, some bleeding, some not, Dandelion didn’t seem to care. Wherever his razor sharp teeth did break through Geralt’s skin, there was a thrum of magic, building and building inside of Geralt, until he could almost feel Dandelion’s heart beat right alongside his. Wings fluttered out behind Dandelion, now out of reach but still so captivating.

“My darling, my husband, my Geralt,” Dandelion murmured between kisses, gazing up at Geralt with glowing blue eyes as he pressed a kiss to Geralt’s hip.

“Yours, Julian,” Geralt agreed, threading his hands through Dandelion’s soft blond curls, knuckles bumping against the newly grown horns. Unlike the wings, Dandelion’s horns didn’t appear to be sensitive in the slightest, but Geralt was still intrigued. He gripped one of the horns in his hand, guiding his husband lower, moaning with every kiss and bite to his skin.

Dandelion giggled, pressing a kiss to Geralt’s inner thigh, “Patience, love.”

“You try my patience, poet.”

“And yet you insist I’m not a monster,” Dandelion sighed, sinking his teeth into Geralt’s thigh.

Fire blazed through Geralt’s veins, crackling electricity, even as Dandelion’s tongue lapped over the bite mark. He knew there was some magic at play, but it was a part of Dandelion, a part that had remained hidden for so long and finally, finally, Geralt had been allowed to see.

The trust that Dandelion- that Julian had in him was almost overwhelming.

Glowing eyes met his and Julian winked, eyelashes even longer and darker than before. That was all the warning Geralt got before his cock was enveloped in the wet heat of Julian’s mouth, the bard already moaning around his length. Geralt’s own moans harmonised with his husband as his head fell back against the pillow.

He had a feeling he would be in for a long night.

Taglist: @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde, @comfyswitcherblanketfort, @fontegagrilledcheese, @dani-dandelino, @dapandapod @unyielding-as-the-sea @officerjennie @feraljaskier @geralt-of-riviass @kueble @gilberik @llamasdumpsterfire

#the witcher #geraskier #gerlion #fae!jaskier #fae!dandelion #non human jaskier #teef week #jaskier pankratz #geralt of rivia #wolfie's witcher writing

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

hii would you write a coops fic that takes place before they’re out when they’re still sneaking around but have like a sweet date night at remus’s apartment

Of course! This is a continuation of Newcomers and Nargles, where Remus babysits Luna Lovegood. Hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

“Thank you for having me over,” Sirius said quietly as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Remus’ mouth. The only light came from his kitchen, which was far enough away that they were left in soft shadows on his couch. “Really, Re, this is wonderful.”

“There’s no need to be so formal,” he laughed, though Sirius could see the pink flush spreading to his ears. “It’s just pasta and my apartment.”

“I love your apartment.”

The flush deepened. “Moody calls it my hamster cage. You had to duck to get in the door.”

“Details.” Sirius leaned forward for a proper kiss to his lips; they had set a timer for the pasta and had a while yet, if his memory was correct. Plenty of time to settle himself more comfortably in Remus’ lap and kiss him until he got the glazed look in his eyes that Sirius adored.

He wanted this all the time. To come home with Remus every night, without fear of the wrong person (or anyone, really) seeing them. He wanted to kiss him in public and keep his hand in Remus’ back pocket like a cliché movie couple and watch Remus light up when he held his hand. He wanted.

Remus made a soft noise and slid his arms around his waist, holding him light and cozy while he traced small swirls on the small of Sirius’ back. It sent goosebumps racing along his spine—Sirius cupped Remus’ jaw in his hands and hummed his approval. The room was so wonderfully warm, filled with the smell of cooking pasta and sauce on the stove. They had made it together; shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip, trading kisses in the steam.

God, he wanted it so much it ached.

Remus trailed light kisses along his neck, taking pauses to nuzzle Sirius’ skin and nibble his collarbones. Sirius buried his face in honey curls and let himself believe this was his everyday life. Their everyday life.

A quick knock at the door shattered the illusion. Sirius felt the blood flee his face as they both froze. “Who is that?” he managed.

“I don’t know,” Remus whispered. His pupils were dilated with fear and, with a pained look, he guided Sirius off his lap so he could stand and turn the rest of the lights on. His slender hands smoothed his sweater and jeans in methodical movements, but Sirius saw their tremors.

He distracted himself from panic by looking around the apartment and all its knickknacks; the feeling of being surrounded by Remus in his most distilled form was unparalleled. A little granite wolf figurine sat with its wooden counterpart on the table by the door; dozens of pictures of family and friends scattered the walls with no rhyme or reason to their placement. It was cluttered in the best possible way, and Sirius wanted his whole life to look like it.

The door clicked open. “Hello?”

“Remus!” a woman’s voice exclaimed. “I’m so glad you answered.”

Sirius glanced over and saw Remus’ whole body relax as he opened the door further with a smile. “Hey, Pandora, how are you?”

“Doing fine, doing fine. It’s Phil and I’s anniversary and we’ve got dinner at 7:18, but Luna’s babysitter came down with a cold and can’t make it. We just got the text an hour ago and we were hoping you could watch her while we’re out.”

“Oh.” Remus’ eyebrows shot up. “I—well, I have a friend over for dinner, but we made plenty of pasta for one more, I s’pose. Sirius, is that okay with you?”

It took him a moment longer than was prudent to get over the fact that Remus—kind-hearted, friendly, beautiful, so beautiful—was asking his opinion on letting a kid join their date. Their top-secret, possibly-life-ruining-if-discovered date. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Oh, I’m so rude!” the woman gasped. She poked her head around the doorway and waved to Sirius—her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder in a messy plait, and her dress seemed to be made of a variety of beads. She was pretty, with a combination of angular features and a heart-shaped face that nudged a memory in the very back of his mind. “I’m Pandora Lovegood, from 7A. It’s so lovely to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well.” He padded over and held a hand out to shake, but to his surprise she took it turned it over, furrowing her brow at his palm.

“Well, that’s quite the love line!” She smiled and patted his cheek. Her eyes were glacial blue, but somehow still as warm as a crackling hearth. “Good for you. Your life line isn’t bad, either. I’ll be back with Luna in a moment!”

“Have a good night, Pandora!” Remus called as she fluttered away. “Say hi to Phil for me!”

Sirius was still standing in mild shock when the door closed. “Pandora, Luna, and…Phil?”

“Xenophilius,” Remus said. The corners of his mouth twitched. “Her husband, and Luna’s dad.”

“Hell of a name.”

“We can’t really judge, can we?” Some of his amusement dimmed and he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for ruining our date. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, it’s alright,” Sirius said quickly, kissing his cheek until he smiled. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

Remus looked a bit sad as he looked up despite his smile. “Yeah, but this is our only time together.”

“It’s not the last time I can ever come over to your apartment,” Sirius reminded him as he ran his hands up Remus’ arms. “I think it’s great that you’re doing this for your neighbors. It shows how caring, and sweet, and wonderful—”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” he laughed, cutting Sirius off with a vivid blush.

“Besides, I agreed to this.” He nudged their noses together. “I’m pretty sure my impressive love line can handle another date sometime soon.”

Remus grinned as he leaned in. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Black.”

“Are you going to stop me?”

A tumbling sound came from outside, followed by a peal of giggling and a sharp pattern of knocking. “I did a cartwheel!” a tiny ball of blonde curls announced as it launched itself at Remus’ legs the second the door opened. “Hi, Remus!”

He caught her with a slight wince as Sirius tried to calm his pounding heart. “Hey, sunshine, are you ready for some dinner?”

“Oh, yes, please.” She wriggled down from his arms and gave her mother a bear hug, beaming when her face was covered in kisses.

“Be good,” Pandora said as she set Luna down and brushed her hair out of her face. “Listen to Remus and his friend. We’ll be back by ten at the latest. Thank you both again for doing this. I’ll bring over some cookies tomorrow, Remus.”

“That’s very sweet, Pandora.” Remus’ eyes tensed at the edges, as if he was in pain at the very thought. Pandora whisked herself toward the stairs again and Sirius shut the door behind her. “Luna, do you—”

“I remember you!” Sirius turned and found himself staring into the biggest pair of blue eyes he had ever seen. The memory came rushing back in a flood—Remus, frazzled and fluffed at the edges, with a little girl balanced on his hip. Luna stood on her tippy-toes and he leaned down so she could take his face in her hands. After a moment, she nodded. “You’ve done an excellent job of keeping the nargles away, Mr. Sirius.”

“Thank you.”

“Mama said you and Remus were making pasta. May I have some, please?”

“Of course you can,” Remus assured her, ushering her into the kitchen with a sweep of his arm. “After you, my lady.”

Sirius waited until Luna had safely skipped out of earshot before bending toward Remus’ ear. “Why does she…?”

“Talk like a normal kid and then a Victorian orphan?”

“Yeah.”

“Dunno. I guess that’s what happens when your mom’s a chemist and part-time psychic and your dad owns The Quibbler.” There wasn’t a trace of judgement on Remus’ face as he raised his voice by a few degrees. “Be careful by the stove, honeybun.”

“I will!” Luna chirped back. Sirius couldn’t place why, but he held undeniable affection for the little girl, even after only two meetings. She was unapologetically odd; he was sure he could never get bored of talking with her.

Luna sat on the countertop while they served up dinner, happy as a clam as she recounted her and her father’s hunt for Fizzing Whizbees at the candy store. They were her mother’s favorite, apparently, but Luna had yet to see one in real life. Her conversational skills came to a sharp halt during dinner; it was so startling that Sirius grew concerned after two minutes without her high-pitched contributions.

“Luna? Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” She looked up from her plate with a curious glance between them and gave Sirius a bright smile. “I’m making an octocapus.”

“An octopus?” Remus leaned over to look. “Wow, you got all the legs with your noodles! Way to go!”

“You’re a great artist,” Sirius agreed as Luna continued working on her masterpiece.

“Yeah, I know.”

He bit his lip to keep in his laughter and met Remus’ eyes; at first, he had been a bit worried about babysitting during a date, but he couldn’t imagine a better way to spend the night. When their plates were clean and Sirius was warm and drowsy from carbohydrates, Remus collected the dishes and headed back into the kitchen despite Sirius’ offers for help.

Luna gave a wide yawn with her head propped on one hand and turned to Sirius the moment Remus turned the sink on. “Do you give Remus kisses?”

It took all of Sirius’ self-control not to accidentally spew water all over the literal child sitting across from him. Instead, he coughed and spluttered into his napkin while the alarms in his brain began to blare. Remus showed no sign of hearing their conversation while he rinsed out the large pasta pot. “What?”

“I’d like it if you did,” Luna continued with nothing but her usual dreamy expression. “Remus needs friends, and mama says he could use some kisses.”

“I think everyone could use some kisses,” Sirius said evasively. His heart galloped in his chest.

“Hmm. Yeah. How long have you been friends?”

“We’ve known each other a little longer than you’ve been alive, but we’ve only been friends for about two years.”

“That’s a good amount of time.”

“Oh?”

She put her chin in both palms, suddenly looking much older than she was. “I’ve been alive for four whole years. That’s a long time. If you’ve known someone for four whole years, you should give them kisses.”

Sirius stared at her. “That’s quite the philosophy.”

“What’s that?”

“An idea.”

“Why didn’t you just say ‘idea’?”

“I…don’t know.”

She hummed a little under her breath. “Will you color with me?”

“Yes,” he answered as relief coursed through him. He had no clue how she had gone from blunt questions that could turn his whole world upside down to coloring, but he didn’t care. “Yes, I would love to.”

Luna slid off her seat and hopped over to Remus’ desk, then dug around in the drawers and emerged with a few sheets of blank paper and some pens. “I’m bad at outlines. Will you draw them for me?”

“Absolutely.”

------------------------

Luna fell asleep halfway through coloring a Kneazle with Remus, which as far as Sirius could understand was just a cat that had its face squished. But it made her happy, and he would draw a million squishy cats to keep her questions about Remus to a minimum.

As soon as Remus finished tucking her in beneath a heavy blanket on the couch, he turned and crushed his lips against Sirius’ like a man dying for air. The kiss lasted long enough that Sirius was staring to get lightheaded before finding himself the (quite enthusiastic) recipient of a rib-crushing hug. They held each other for a few minutes, silent and swaying, before Remus let him go with a final kiss and they began to clean up the mess.

True to her word, Pandora returned just before ten pm with a blond man at her side and a big hug for her daughter. “Goodnight, Luna,” Remus whispered. They received a sleepy wave in response and then, finally, they were alone. “You are the best person ever.”

Sirius wound his arms around Remus’ waist and melted a little when strong hands combed through his hair. “Funny, I could say the same thing about you.”

“I didn’t know you could draw.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I can doodle. It’s nothing fancy.”

“You drew imaginary monsters based on descriptions from a four-year-old.” Remus cupped his cheek and rested their foreheads together. “You’re amazing.”

“This was a pretty awesome date,” he mumbled, closing his eyes to bask in their little bubble.

“We should do it again sometime. Preferably without the child, though.”

Sirius’ smile came all the way from his heart as he buried his face in the slope of Remus’ neck. “As long as I get to be with you, I’m happy.”

It was the closest thing to ‘I love you’ he could bring himself to admit, but for now, it would have to do.

#sirius black #remus lupin #coops #luna lovegood #pandora lovegood #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #babysitting #date night

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lokislastlove · 3 years

Text

Come One, Come All (dark!Loki x reader)

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, knife play, oral (m&f), smut, bondage, kidnapping.

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: I wrote another one! No idea where this came from, but it was fun to write. Still working on improving my smut, huge thanks to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for some tips and editing the shit out of it. 😘 also I know there is a creepy clown in the pic but I feel like I have to say there aren’t any clowns in the fic. I hate clowns.

Chapter 1:

It was the kind of summer night you dream about, warm enough to keep you comfortable in your shorts and peasant top, but with a light breeze that keeps you cool enough to fight the flush of alcohol in your veins. You look forward to these moments when you are able to go out with your girlfriends and let loose, forgetting about all life’s responsibilities, if just for a single night.

“Come on!” Ash calls over her shoulder, her hand tight around your wrist pulling you impatiently.

“Aww but that looks so good” you groan as you press your face longingly against the glass barrier of the hand dipped corn dog cart.

The sweet scent of the frying corn dough wafts tantalizingly through the air making your mouth water. You friends laugh at your theatrics, having just helped you scarf down a large sugary funnel cake and a platter of nachos, the evidence of which still stains the corner of your mouth. Really, it was their fault for getting you tipsy before taking you to the county fair, everything just smelled heavenly and if you could you would try one of everything.

“Just a slushee?!” You beg as Jen steps behind you and pushes you out of the food court, giggling the entire time.

“Come on, fight the drunchies! You promised you would try that new funhouse,” Jen whines, looping her arm through yours, Ash doing the same on the other side.

“Oh yeah,” you grumble.

“Oh stop it” Ash scolds playfully. “Everyone at work keeps talking about it - it’s like a mini escape room! And I’ve always wanted to do one, please.” She rants excitedly before giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh that’s cheating. No one can resist those big brown eyes” you pout, but yield as easily as they knew you would.

“I know” Ash smirks, tossing back her long silky black hair over her slender shoulder.

“This is gonna be so much fun, I promise” Jen bumps your hip, giving you a wide encouraging smile.

You manage a strained grin as you let them lead you through the crowd. It’s not that you don’t like funhouses or the idea of doing an escape room, having always loved solving riddles and doing puzzles. It’s just you don’t like clowns, and every funhouse in your experience has at least one.

“Oh damn there’s a line!” Jen moans as you all stop in front of a large structure covered in flashing lights, the ominous ‘Tricksters Trap’ bathing your face in a violent red glow.

Garish contrasting colors somehow both attract your eye and make it hard to look at. Your pupils dilate with the lines of fluorescent bulbs burning into your retinas. The stereotypical circus music blares through the cheap speakers, reminding you of one of those old Jack in the box toys. And of course, without fail, was the obligatory clown statue hanging over the entrance, like some creepy sentinel there to guide you to your inevitable demise.

“Ugh fucking clowns” you grimace as you pass by the entrance, heading toward the end of the line.

“Yeah they definitely nailed the creep factor,” Jen agrees, her eyes shining with nervous excitement.

“I know isn’t it great?!” Ash squeals.

You stand there taking in the horrific detailing painted on the side of the metal structure. You are thankful when Ash explains there is a time limit, only ten minutes to complete the puzzle or else they kick you out and you have to try again. If you figure out the puzzle you get to leave through the mirror maze and you earn the coveted “I tricked the Trickster” sticker.

“Gotta get that sticker, or else that bitch Katie at work will never let me forget that she got one and I didn’t” Ash complains, causing you and Jen to share a look and snicker.

“Hey! Don’t laugh, this is serious! We gotta be smart and figure this out, failure is not an option” she urges dramatically before collapsing into drunken giggles with you and Jen.

“You ladies seem eager to prove yourselves,” slithers a low voice.

Startled you gasp and spin around quickly. The three of you look up at the tall lean figure standing behind you. He wears a perfectly tailored black ensemble, that matches the color of his slicked back hair. His eyes practically glow green against his alabaster complexion. His sharp cheekbones and angular jaw make your breath hitch, causing his thin lips to curve into a sinister smirk. He is stunning.

“Um, yeah. Well this place has the whole town buzzin’. Seems like everyone is talking about it” Jen is the first to speak.

“Ah I see. Wouldn’t want to miss your chance to take a stab at it” the mysterious man surmised, eyes focused on you.

“We got this shit. Right guys?” Ash assures him as she playfully smacks you and Jen.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out. Good luck,” he challenges with a raise of a brow.

You stare after him as he saunters away without another word. His hips and shoulders sway smoothly, his soft footsteps giving him a dangerous almost feline vibe, like he could rival even the most deadly of predators. As he turns to round the corner of the ride he takes one last look over his shoulder at you. Your eyes lock for only a fraction of a second but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

“That was weird, right?” You mutter, eyes still transfixed where he disappeared.

“Eh, just another creepy dude. If I had a nickel for every weirdo who tries to chat me up…” Jen jokes.

“You’d have like a whole 50 cents,” sasses Ash.

You are finally broken from your daze when Ash is pushed into you. You laugh and try to brush off the lingering effect of the handsome stranger, shifting your focus back to your friends. The line goes by quicker than expected, with only one group out of the three ahead of you making it out with stickers. The losing groups return to the line from a back door, bickering about where they went wrong.

Finally it is your turn. Ash claps her hands excitedly, dancing up the metal stairs to the costumed man at the entrance. His red and white stripped suit is expertly torn and painted with fake blood to make him look as intimidating as possible. With a tip of his top hat he welcomes the three of you and begins to explain the rules in his well practiced accent.

“Come one come all to the Tricksters Trap, if you’re feeling lost, just go find the map.” He sings with flair and a perfectly timed bow, directing you to the inauspicious black door.

Taking a deep breath you follow your squealing friends into the darkened hallway. Pausing to look back as the door creaks shut, cutting off the jovial sounds of laughter and chatter with a sudden slam. You flinch at the loud noise and turn back to the dim hallway. The short corridor is lined with wall to wall green velvet curtains barely visible with the green rope lights running along the ceiling.

“Guys?” You whisper when you don’t see them next to you, causing your heart rate to quicken

You call for them again, this time louder, your feet unwilling to move from the spot. It has only been thirty seconds and you are already about to call it quits. Get a grip. You take a hesitant step forward.

“You guys?!” You call shakily.

“Hey! Come on we found the map!” Jen pokes her head from around the corner at the end of the hall.

She disappears just as quickly, waving her arm for you to follow. You breathe a sigh of relief and rush after her. You enter a large room filled with all sorts of random objects. It’s as if it is designed to overload your senses. The green from the hall carried on into the room, more velvet green curtains hung on the walls that were not obstructed by shelves of books or other oddities. You saw everything from perfectly aligned glass jars filled with alien looking creatures, grandfather clocks, to treasure chests overflowing with grizzled toys.

Jen and Ash are hunched over a table with a map spread out smoothly. It was easy enough to see it was a map of the room and hallway, with what appeared to be three small rooms hidden along the wall behind the heavy green drapery. You go over and pull back a curtain and find a locked door, the other two also hiding a locked door.

“Ok so it looks like we gotta find a way to open these doors” you offer, your anxiety calming a bit as you focus on the mystery at hand.

“Hey look there is some sort of code over here by the lock on the door.” Ash hollers excitedly.

You each pick a door code and frantically search the room. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out you need to use the books on the large shelf along one wall. The first number tells you the book the second refers to a specific page. You find a slip of paper in the book with a riddle written in a blood red ink.

“I make two people out of one” You read aloud.

“You can hold me in one hand, but I’m used to fill the room” Ash reads hers, her face twisting in concentration.

You both look to Jen, “I have two hands, but I can’t clap.”

“Damn no wonder so many people failed, definitely wish I wasn’t drunk right now” Ash laughs.

“No no we can do this, it’s probably items in the room so let’s just focus. We’ll do one at a time.” You assert, pacing the room and trying to take in all the random objects.

“Two hands…” you mutter as you stop in front of a large grandfather clock. “Clocks have hands!” You yell excitedly and open the narrow door.

The heavy pendulums swing inside and you see a shining silver glint off the rounded golden end. You pull off the small silver key, stuck on by a tiny magnet, and jump in excitement.

“Holy crap! You’re a genius!” Jen exclaims running over to take the key and try it in the door.

The key slides in smoothly and the door opens with a gratifying click.

“Woo! Keep going, you are on a roll!” Ash claps as she cheers you on.

“Ok, ok” you giggle before taking a deep breath. “Two people out of one… maybe a camera? Or wait…” you realize as you stare at Ash currently checking her makeup in an antique mirror hung between two curtains.

“Ash! Try pulling on that mirror!” You yell pointing frantically at the mirror in front of her.

Her brows knit together briefly before understanding, grabbing the frame and tugging gently until it swings open, revealing a key hung on the wall.

“Yes!” You all shriek together.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and a loud maniacal cackle reverberates through the surround sound speaker, turning your elation into yelps of surprise.

“Two minutes left” a familiar polished voice echoes forebodingly throughout the room.

“Shit, that scared the crap out of me” Jen laughs clutching at her chest.

The warning gives you pause, managing to shift the spirit of the whole room. Ash giggles nervously as she watches the lights of the room transition from their previous dim yellow light to a menacing red hue. The mood lighting in addition to the increasing volume of the horror soundtrack playing over the speaker helps to put you back into your initial anxious state.

“Seriously? Is this fucking necessary?” You curse, shaking your head.

“Ok let’s get the last one guys! We can still do this!” Jen yells through the cacophony of sound effects.

“Yeah what can we fit in our hand but somehow also fills the room?” Ash reiterated the final riddle.

“These red lights make it so much harder to see” Jen complains bitterly as she rummages through the items inside a large chest.

“Lights… Jen that’s it! A lightbulb!” A smile breaks out on your face as you figure out the final clue.

“Look up there!” Ash points to a solitary darkened light bulb screwed into the ceiling.

“I got it.” Jen jumps onto the table and reaches up, unscrewing it quickly. “There is a key inside!” She shouts.

She unscrews the bottom of the fake lightbulb and received the key before handing it to Ash. Each of you run over to the corresponding doors and turn the key, squealing in delight when they all slide open.

“Is that it?” Jen asks looking into the cramped dark space behind the door.

It was little more than a closet. Barely enough room for each of you to stand in. You were at a loss. You could have sworn that would be the end.

“Guys there is a lever here on the back wall of mine, how about yours?” Ash’s muffled voice calls from inside her closet.

“Oh yeah mine too!” Jen replies.

“Do you think we have to pull them at the same time? ‘Cus mine did nothing when I tried it” Ash says poking her head out to look at you.

“Thirty seconds!” That haunting voice booms again as a tick clock sounds through the speakers, counting down your final moments.

“Ok let’s try it together!” You nod at both of them, before stepping into the tight dark space.

“THREE! TWO! ONE!” You shout, mirroring your friends calls, pulling down your lever with a snap.

There is a moment of silence as the lights of the room behind you suddenly go dark, the music and sound effects cutting off instantly.

“Did we get it?!” You yell.

You don’t get the chance to hear your friends response as the wood door slams behind you, locking you into the small space.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

#dark fic #dark Loki #dark loki x reader #tom hiddleston #come one come all

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the-slasher-files · 3 years

Text

Affection

INCLUDES MICHAEL

I have gotten a few different requests for a softer more affectionate side of Michael so I decided to put them together and create this, a longer (almost 2k words) descriptive drabble about showering with Michael. All this talk about getting Michael to shower and what his hygiene is like had me thinking lol... Now this is deeply inspired by @slasherholic and their writing style, of course I made it my own but it is defiantly a nod to them :) Thank you for your asks and requests!.. hope you enjoy 🔪💕

MASTERLIST

There was a sting on your cool soft skin as you stepped into the blazing stream, raining down from the old head above. Through gritted teeth you bared your head back allowing the water to soak you, down your hair, trailing every muscle in your shoulders and back. Burning your flesh with a pleasent tingle from the contrast of temperatures as you had just been outside on a walk, the autumn wind was sharp kissing your face and seeping into your bones. Closing your eyes you calmed completely around the hot water, tension ebbed from your muscles and your jaw; it had been a long day, and you could not have needed this more.

Steam flowed off your skin and out the top of the curtain like soft clouds, painting the mirror and sweating on the tiles, finally reaching the cracked door and seemingly disappearing into the night. Soft hands ran through your hair pushing away the water along the edges of your face, pooling beneath your feet and draining with quiet gurgles.

The placid air had suddenly changed as you heard the shower curtain pull along the metal rod, screeching at the force; you did not open your eyes for you knew exactly who it was. The smell of iron, rich dirt and a firm musk coating the air, almost battling with the steam and the fresh smells of your body wash. The curtain superseded it’s own path with the same screech and crinkles, a large, mysterious presence appeared in front of you, out of the steam that seemed to billow around him.

Opening your eyes you met his; one brown, dark and deep with a slight hint of yellow around the iris, outlined like black ink. The other scarred; a dull shade you could never decide if it was more blue or more grey, it reminded you of a thunderstorm approaching, devouring any bright sky and coating the blue in dark streaks and shadows, while his scar was in the shape of a catastrophic bolt of lighting, forking and brutally tearing through the iris; Much like the shape, a force of nature, leaving destruction in it’s wake.

Michael just watched you with a look you could never place, and sometimes you just didn’t want to know what that look meant, it was a mystery, like him; never solvable, never predictable, dangerous, and so beautiful in the hidden detail all at once. Loving this gaze was a curse and a privilege. You were one of the only people who ever got to meet these forceful eyes, see the detail in them and live. Perhaps that was his affection.

He stood in front of you naked, watching the water run in a thousand streams down your features. Drippling down the ends of your hair into your rosy nipples, cascading down your stomach breaking into different paths; some glistening your sex while others flowed down your legs, meeting every tendon and mark your lover had made. Your eyes watched his as they surveyed the trails of wetness blanketing your smooth skin, it was like he was almost trying to remember where the water flowed and broke away, almost envious of the streams that got to touch you with such care and tenderness. Michael could never do the same. You both knew that, and you had accepted that long ago.

Towering above you he took an easy step forward, making you step back a little allowing him to have some heat from the water as well. Michael’s deep rich curls were now painted black, sticking to his forehead tracing the scars he wore, and now settling easy on his muscular neck. His eyes closed for a moment as you wondered if he had felt just the same soft pleasure of stepping into the torrid flow. The steam had started to make piece with the man and it swelled off his broad toned shoulders like a smoke stack into the cool air.

Michael's angular jaw eased and his shoulders fell ever so slightly; to the normal person they would never notice such subtleties, but you had become trained to watch for the smallest give aways in his body. It was the only indicators he would give you; dropped shoulder were relaxed and he was comfortable, hardened eyes and a slight twitch in his wrist meant nothing good, but over time you became aware. Sometimes too aware, but you had been molded to his liking. This is what he wanted, this was his artistry, a slight fear constantly in your heart right behind the muscle. This was loving Michael and you accepted it through and through.

The vail of his baroness and tension billowed away with the steam, he was at ease, and he allowed you to see this. Perhaps the shape genuinely trusted you, or maybe it was just him knowing you could never do serious damage to his imposing body. Michael was like a brick wall and no matter how many nights you wailed on him or tried to hurt him blood was never drawn, just your own.

Small hands slowly fell upon his shoulders, every movement he watched carefully, but there was not the usual harness to his stoney eyes. Creeping your fingers into his drenched locks, slow circles and light pressure along the top of his neck made him melt inside; and there it was, the trust, he had closed his eyes accepting the pleasure. Feeling the tough muscles under your fingers ease, you moved your hands along the tendons in his thick neck, watching the water flow along your hands and down into the slight dip of his collar bone, then continued to his broad expansive chest where you settled your hands among the pinkish raised scars from bullets and blades. They looked so small compared to him, lifting effortlessly as the muscles rose and fell with each soft breath. You couldn't help but find a trance in the way the water swept down him as well, each trail seemed more interesting than the last. Michael allowed you to look at his details and touch where you wanted, from his smooth chest to the dips in his abs, and the v in his obliques, washing the water with a slight hue of pink from his last kills. This was more than a privilege at this point, you took extreme pride in these extraordinarily rare moments he allowed. You were the only one who could ever touch the shape the way you did, the way he let you. This is how he made you feel good, this was his love.

Was this all a trick? A sick game he liked to play? Toying with you like a lion would before the kill?

Looking up at the towering figure locking eyes, his hands meticulously found home on your waist and slowly he leaned down, blocking the water from you and he met his lips with yours. Michael had kissed you, tenderly, softly. A foreign place he tried desperately to be comfortable in. You moved your lips cautiously with his, waiting for the large forceful hand to grab your neck, or to be pushed against the freezing tiles with blood running down your skull. Your eyes opened trying to see what he was planning but his eyes were closed, and his brow was furrowed seeking the love he knew he couldn't produce.

Blood ran cold in your veins as he pulled away, eyeing you up with a strange softness you never thought was possible. The kiss left you breathless, and your mouth was slightly agape as he took one of his large hands placing it under your jaw, cupping your chin and running a thick thumb along your sweet lips. Carefully you placed your shaky hands on either side of his sharp jaw, holding him as he let his head slack slightly and rest tenderly. It dawned on you that you were practically holding a predator in your hands, the claws were hidden but always still beneath the surface, your heart raced at the thought and you tried to slow your breath as much as you could, not wanting to start the predators chase. In this moment you saw a glint of what looked like pain in Michael’s eyes, if he was even capable of feeling such an emotion, he knew what you thought of him. Tonight all he wanted was to feel like a normal man, he wanted to give you his affection and nothing more, but the task was nearing impossible for him.

Michael started to run his massive hands around even inch of you, gingerly drawing shapes into and around your chest, rough fingers dipped between your breasts and following the water, luring him downward along your stomach, tracing every mark he made on you; from the bruises on your hips to the bites on your thighs, to the long jagged scar he had made on your stomach where his beloved blade sank a little too far into the skin. You were his and that much was clear.

The shape allowed you to pull his face closer to yours as you placed another kiss to his chapped lips, taking it in more and trusting him with you enough to give into the rare pleasure of the gentleness. Your body so starved of it that when the opportunity presented itself you hesitated deeply. Michael had taught you that a person could be deprived of such needs for a long time and when he gave it to you, you put it in question.

Was it all you ever thought you needed? Was it just an illusion your head fueled?

Stained crimson fingers that seemed to never be fully clean moved to the back of neck, fingers circling and moving slowly into your hair, Michael mirrored your movements that had put him at ease some minutes ago. His rosy lips left yours and trailed along your jaw, down your neck pausing to feel your pulse, and nipping at the tender flesh of your collar bone, pulling drawn out moans of pleasure you delicately webbed your fingers into his hair. Every touch, lick and nip put you into a blissful haze, forgetting where you were and blocking out the sound of the water spitting and gurgling, Michael was the only thing that mattered in this moment, and the world was lost.

His wandering hands had now moved to your hips again, his lips were gone and Michael had you turn around, not to look at him any longer, just hot rhythmic breathing leaving your skin numb. Slowly his gentleness was failing him, urges and twisted thoughts were beginning to hound him like a pack of coyotes howling from the ridgeline hidden in the shadows. Your euphoria coating too thickly to see this, you just stood in the current, eyes closed and body relaxed, there were a few more strokes of your back muscles and stolen kisses to your neck before he was gone.

Michael had left silently like the shape he was. Gone into the night that called him. Where he belonged. Free. A tortuous beauty that made you ache. The rare moment of affection was gone, burned away by the steam and lost hopes. Michael was just a force, a shadow that could and will never be tamed. Haunting people and leaving destruction behind. Just like his knife the pain you felt of his absence was sharp and cold amongst the scolding flow.

This was loving him. This was his affection.

#micheal myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers imagine #slasher #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader #halloween #horror #horror imagine #my writing

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asset35-maya · 3 years

Text

Nice Things

Inspired by this spectacular drawing of long-haired Nines by @marndraws

Gavin Reed never had nice things.

Every day was a fight for survival. He studied hard, worked hard and did everything he could to come out on top… but he never had nice things. If he did, they wouldn’t last.

Then the most beautiful creature to walk the planet entered his life.

A sheer scientific miracle. A combined feat of engineering and art. The most advanced android ever built… and the kindest soul the mean city of Detroit had ever seen.

Nines.

Gavin had no idea how to interact with the RK900 in the beginning. If it were any other new partner he’d have been his usual abrasive self, but there was something about the android that left him dumbstruck. No insults came to mind, so Gavin stuck to silent cooperation (and obedience, actually).

The RK900 model was designed to be aesthetically pleasing. There was no doubt about that, but it was how the android carried himself that took things to another level entirely. Poise, elegance and flair touched everything that he said and did.

It extended to the way he transformed his appearance after deviancy. Nines shed his Cyberlife uniform with the harsh turtleneck and stiff jacket in favour of softer, more delicate garments. He still stuck to dark colours, but his clothes were all loose and flowing. He dressed more like an interior decorator than a homicide detective (and it honestly served him well).

Gavin often had to tear his gaze away from the refined fabrics and unconventional styles that Nines wore. Gavin never had nice things… but he certainly had an eye for them.

And then there was Nines’ hair…

When Gavin had first seen the change from the default appearance settings, he had to leave the station, find a quiet alley and focus on bringing his breathing back to normal.

Nines… for some unknown, wild, spectacular, unprecedented, utterly amazing reason… had decided to lengthen his hair and let it hang loose around his shoulders.

The dark tresses were as expressive as the android himself. They danced when he laughed. They whipped the air when he animatedly told a story with his steel blue eyes flashing. They shone in every damn light.

Gavin couldn’t help but stare. He never had nice things… but he was drawn to them.

Not a day went by that he didn’t want to reach out and tuck the fine strands behind Nines’ ear, but he held back from giving in to such insanity.

Nines didn’t hold himself back though.

For all the times Gavin had been looking, so had he. He made his move in the middle of a very boozy Christmas party at the DPD. It didn’t take much of an effort. They left the party together on the flimsy pretext of Nines showing Gavin his Christmas lights at home… and promptly fell into bed together.

Gavin had never had nice things… but he knew exactly what he wanted, and when they were presented to him on a silver platter, he knew how to take them.

Nines’ hair was as soft as he imagined and even silkier than he dreamed. He couldn’t stop running his fingers through the lifelike synthetic fibres and Nines couldn’t seem to get enough of his touch either.

Bliss.

On the third anniversary of the Christmas party, the pair found themselves in very much the same position, only that they didn’t actually make it to the mindless office event this time. The day started and ended in bed.

Fairy lights glittered and tastefully-chosen tinsel framed the snow-laden windows of their loft apartment. The large Christmas tree emanated a warm glow that reached even the bedroom where they lay tangled in the sheets.

Nines was draped over Gavin’s chest, his fingers skimming idly across the warm skin.

“Sweetheart…”

“Nines.”

Gavin’s wary tone of voice made the android laugh. A velvet sound that the human would follow to the ends of the earth.

“What’s the thing you love most about me?”

Gavin exhaled loudly, hugging Nines closer.

“Baby, you know I ain’t good at words and shit.”

“I’m not asking you to write me a poem. Just tell me what you love most about me.”

He sighed and stared at the ceiling.

“Is this a test?”

“I don’t have to test you. I know everything there is to know about you. I can read you like a book even with my analysis software turned off.”

“Uh huh. Then why the inquisition?”

“Because validation is nice.”

Gavin snorted and carded his fingers though Nines’ gorgeous hair.

“Guess I can start by applauding your honesty.”

Nines hummed, rubbing slow circles into Gavin’s pec with his thumb. A few minutes went by and Gavin began to drift off to sleep.

“So what’s more attractive to you? My personality or my looks?”

Gavin’s eyes snapped open in alarm.

“What the ph-”

“There’s no right or wrong answer. Just tell me.”

Nines propped himself up on his elbows and peered into Gavin’s face. It was truly a magnificent sight. Two piercing blue eyes… plush lips curling into a smirk… a cyan LED… and a perfectly arched eyebrow. A pale, angular face… framed by sweeping curtains of dark, glossy hair.

Gavin gulped.

“I can’t choose. You’re the total package.”

“Cop out.”

“Pfffft. You tell me then. What do you like better? My mug or my sharp wit? Hah. Betcha can’t answer that for all the complex calculations your supercomputer brain can do.”

Nines tossed his hair over his shoulder and elevated himself further, pressing his forearms onto Gavin. His fixation with the human’s muscular chest was no secret.

“I can.”

“Huh.”

“You hardly said anything when we first met so I had nothing to go off for your personality-”

“Maybe I was mysterious and aloof and ya just couldn’t resist.”

“No, I actually thought you were kind of slow. All your medals and service awards didn’t make any sense to me.”

“Wowww.”

“So it had to be your body. Why else would anyone keep you around?”

“Is that why you stuck around too?”

“Maybe.”

“You little-”

Gavin reversed their positions on the bed, flipping Nines onto his back and curling huge biceps around his lithe body. Nines tipped his head back to allow Gavin to drag his teeth across his throat and latch onto his collarbone. Some moments passed like that until Nines regained control by hooking a leg over the human’s waist to slow him down.

“Fine. I confess. It was the leather jacket.”

“Seriously?”

Nines dug his heel into Gavin’s coccyx.

“It was everything about your appearance that you had control over… or weren’t born with at least. For instance, your face is conventionally attractive, but it’s all the lines and scars and little things that made me wonder what kind of a life you’d lived… what you might have gone through... how you came out stronger. And yes, your body is a temple, but it’s the work you put into it that I admire. You know how to take care of yourself and that’s…”

“Hot?”

“Hot.”

Nines accepted a rather sloppy kiss with grace. He rubbed his hands up and down his partner’s back.

“So. Tell me. What was it for you? What is it for you?”

Gavin’s right hand subconsciously found its way into Nines’ long hair and caressed his scalp. He sighed into the crook of Nines’ neck and took in the familiar scent that was neither entirely human nor entirely artificial. Everyone expected androids to smell like a new car but the fact was that each of them had their own unique smell. It was impossible to describe in words, but it was one of the many many things Gavin loved about Nines.

“Babe, I think you’re asking a shit ton of questions, but none of them are what you actually wanna ask.”

“Say more.”

“Gavin, do you love me because I look like a Greek god or is it because I’m smart as phck? Gavin, what did you notice first about my sexy android ass? Does the same thing get you off today, or is it something else?

I think… there’s something you already know… or something you think you know… and you’re just trying to get me to say it and dig myself into a giant hole.”

Nines didn’t respond but his LED did. Gavin chuckled and pressed his lips to the spinning yellow light.

“Called it.”

Nines rolled his eyes.

“It’s my hair, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“Admit it, you’re obsessed with my hair.”

“And you’re obsessed with my tits. We take turns objectifying each other. First sign of a healthy relationship.”

The android’s sharp nose scrunched up at a particular word and Gavin closed his eyes in resignation. Despite his best efforts he’d walked right into the trap.

“Dammit, babe, I didn’t mean it like that. I would never ever see you as an object-”

“My, my… we’re lying here two years to the day we became…”

“A thing.”

“Yes. And here I am reminiscing about what made you even look at me in the first place… and it turns out the credit goes more to Cyberlife than it does to me.”

Gavin groaned while his lover’s tinkling laughter rang out. He had to think fast if he had to turn the tables.

“So I’m that slow?”

Nines looked back at him, confused.

“You just dragged MY instincts. Like I’m dumb enough to fall for a program written by some geeky little code nerd. Like it was all totally predetermined and I didn’t see you tease and flirt and practically fall over yourself trying to get my attention for months. Huh?”

Gavin tightened his grip and gave his partner an affirmative shake.

“All those outfits and nail colours and pointy shoes and sparkly, shiny things. You saw me looking and you just kept stepping it up.”

He grasped Nines’ jaw and kissed him firmly.

“And your hair, baby… yeah, some genius worked on the tech at some point… but they didn’t tell you how to wear it. They didn’t tell you about the length or cut or angle. They didn’t tell you to walk around looking like a phcking prince. They didn’t tell you to roll the car windows down on the highway so your hair could fly in my face and drive me phcking crazy…”

Gavin thrust his fingers into the dark locks and pulled the android back in for a series of open-mouthed kisses and tantalising swipes of his tongue. Nines started to reciprocate physically, but Gavin swatted his hands away, not wanting to let things go further without making it clear who had gained the upper hand in their ridiculous game. He broke away panting.

“I love you. Don’t ask me why because there isn't one single reason. And I phcking love your hair. Not just ’cause it’s pretty but ’cause you’re the only motherphcker in that precinct who’d show up to the gristliest of crime scenes looking like a runway model.”

They stared at each other. Nines’ LED flickered.

“I… wow, sweetheart… okayyy… I… love you too.”

A moment of silence passed and Gavin rounded things off with his classic double wink.

“You’re welcome.”

Nines smiled, accepting defeat. He reached up and carefully rearranged his hair, letting it fan out on the pillow. Unable to keep the smile off his face, Gavin dipped his head down and returned his lips to Nines’, kissing him under the covers until his LED spun bright blue.

Gavin Reed never had nice things… until he learnt how to take good care of them.

Part 2: Red Dress

#reed900 #gavin900 #dbh gavin #gavin reed #rk900 #dbh rk900 #dbh nines #gavin x nines #gavin x rk900 #tw: implied sex #high romance #my writing #dbh writing

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