#// but for this I just spun the wheel and got buttons

[civiclegends-moved]

anonymous asked:

*gently tosses another dog toy to Autumn*

[  📖  ]  Autumn  stops  chewing  on  what  appears  to  be  an  off-color  white  plush  rabbit  to  look  at  the  other  toy.  The  rabbit  looks  pretty  old  and  it's  missing  an  eye.  She  stares  at  the  offered  toy  for  a  few  seconds  before  she  goes  right  back  to  chewing  on  the  rabbit.

[starconstruction]

Night of Passion

Gaeul (IVE) + Haseul (ARTMS) x Male Reader (Smut)

smut tags: oral, multiple orgasms, anal, creampie, minor objectification, fsub + fdom

Word Count: 2567

not proofread

spun a wheel and haseul won! maybe i should do this again in the future

The soft light of the hotel room illuminated the room, it was late at night while you sat on the bed watching YouTube. The night was quiet, the relaxing holiday you took paying dividends. You went alone, getting a break from the endless cycle of work. Being successful came with its virtues, like being able to afford this week.

You decided to explore the hotel, it was luxurious so it had to have something interesting to do, the corridors were well lit and clean. You walked through the opulent halls. Dragging feet against the carpet, maybe soft. You got to the fancy elevator, there was a sign against the number pad.

0 - RECEPTION

01-08 - ROOMS

09 - VIP ROOMS

10 - ROOFTOP POOL (VIP ONLY)

The pool sounded inviting, you weren't exactly in the attire for this. Simple shorts and a t-shirt was all you had on. But it'd do, you pressed the button. Stepping into the elevator as you embraced the unknown, going up a floor.

The sudden chill of the night sky hit you, the door opening and the chemical scent of chlorine enveloped your nose. The wind was still tonight, perfect to relax. The pool was a rich blue, illuminated by the lights that laid in the corners of the walls. What caught your eye wasn't anything offered by the hotel itself, it was the two women sat on the complimentary chairs.

One of the women gave a matured vibe, her body well developed where it counted, she was wearing a pearl white bikini, covering her well endowed breasts. An equally impressive toned stomach, visible muscles showing her effort in the gym. She was holding some form of alcoholic beverage, a deep red liquid swirled around the ice at the bottom of the glass. Her legs went on for miles as your eyes trailed down, her toes well maintained as they were painted a seductive red.

The other woman seemed more spunky, wearing a much more energetic yellow bikini, she didn't have as big assets as the girl she was talking to. But she made up for it with her beauty. She was sipping a clear liquid, probably wine as they conversed.

You were about to sit on the opposite end of the pool, ready to face the beautiful city. A voice shot through the night. "Hey hot stuff!" It was the older one "Come over here!" You weren't going to deny a pair of beautiful women as you walked over to them, "Evening ladies" You greeted as you sat down in the chair closer to the energetic one.

"Hello, I'm Haseul." The older one said, gesturing to the lively one "And this is Gaeul" Who smiled as she took another sip of her drink. "And so, who are you stranger?" Haseul asked. "I'm Y/N, just here on some relaxation, what about you two?" You replied.

"Oh, me and Haseul are also here for some relaxation. It's a busy life back at home." Gaeul said, her hand reaching down below next to Haseul's chair, fiddling with an alcoholic bottle and a spare glass. "Fancy a glass?" she asked, you nodded in response as she made you a drink.

The alcohol went down your throat as it left a burning sensation where it landed, the taste of fruit laid faint in your mouth. "So, what do you do Y/N?" Haseul asked, hands on Gaeul's shoulder as they leaned into each other. "Office work, managing papers, employees, boring shit but it pays well. You?"

"I'm a dancer and singer, this is the first time I've had to myself in months." Haseul moved away from Gaeul. "I haven't been able to use this pool, join me Gaeul?" She said, voice teasing her friend as Gaeul got up.

The two slipped into the pool, floating in the water as they splashed around. "Join us Y/N, just take off your shirt." Haseul said, you complied. Throwing off your shirt as you dived into the water, your shorts becoming saturated with water. "Looking good, damn." Gaeul flirted, a gentle whistle from her pursed lips. "Not so bad yourself, Gaeul." You flirted back.

You three spent the next short while together, talking about life and other stuff. Most of it wasn't of importance but the two women were very nice. The night got a lot more exciting as Haseul started to speak about something more, personal.

"Y/N, you find us attractive right?" She asked, adjusting her bikini slightly as the bottom of her breasts were now visible. You paused for a second, collecting your thoughts "You two are quite beautiful, yes.

"Well our little Gaeul over here wanted to have some fun, us three. Care to oblige?" Haseul took Gaeul's lips in a gentle kiss as your face flushed. "I would be happy to." You said, keeping a sense of confidence. Heart hammering in your chest as she got out the water, grabbing her stuff. "Come on then, let's have some fun."

-

Haesul and you aggressively made out, lips battling for dominance as you two got through your hotel room door. Gaeul joined in on the assault of Haseul's mouth. You made room, a mixture of lips as you frantically made contact, hands rubbing up and down her body. The strong scent of alcohol gnawed your senses. Haseul was propped into the wall as her bra came undone. You pulled away, "Fuck, Gaeul look at her tits." Your hand grabbed her breast, aggressively squeezing handfuls, Gaeul was a step ahead of you. Mouth pursed around Haseul's right nipple, sucking intently as you joined her.

"Keep going you two! Suck my tits!" Haseul moaned, you two were happy to oblige. Eager lips sucked, the faint taste of chlorine laid on Haseul's boobs from the time in the pool. Cleaned off by your tongue. You eventually grew bored, pulling away as you feasted on Gaeul's body with your eyes. She was so eager, tongue lapping up and down as she stared directly at Haseul. "I bet Gaeul has a really pretty pussy, wouldn't you agree Haseul?" You said to her, "Yeah!" She gasped out, still under Gaeul's relentless motions. "You should find out, Gaeul. On the bed for us." She commanded as Gaeul pulled away.

Gaeul was compliant, laying down as her hands unraveled the top part of her Bikini. Leaving the rest to you and Haseul, her hands eagerly gripping the remaining fabric on Gaeul's body. Revealing Gaeul's soaking cunt, saturated with arousal. "Spread her legs Haseul, give us room." You commanded, she complied as her hands gripped Gaeul's thick thighs, creating a gap for you two to lay in front of.

"Tell us what you want Gaeul, use your words." Haseul said, rubbing Gaeul's leg as she awaited a response. You got on your knees alongside Haseul. "I want you two, eat my slutty pussy out please!" Gaeul started to beg as Haseul took the first lick of her awaiting cunt, eliciting a gasp. You joined in, taking your first taste of the younger woman. She tasted pleasant as your tongue explored her, a mixed scent of citrus, arousal and vanilla as their perfumes mingled.

You and Haseul got to work, tongues bumping into each as you two lapped up her slick, "You two are so good! Fuck keep going!" Gaeul screamed, her hands found comfort in Haseul's hair. "We will, your whore cunt tastes so good." You said, going deeper as your tongue picked up a mixture of saliva and juices. Gaeul was shrill as her voice got higher, her legs tightened like a vice as it compressed you and Haseul's head together. "Fuck, IM GONNA CUM ALL OVER YOUR TONGUES" Gaeul let out, "Cum for us!" Haseul said, tongue speeding up as Gaeul came undone.

Gaeul laid heaving on the bed, taken to the highest gate of heaven, you let her recover as Haseul turned to face you. Her lips tilted in a crooked smile, "Look how hard you are Y/N" her hand palmed your clothed crotch "Let me take care of you." Haseul tackled you, hands tugging off your shorts. Her eyes beaming as your length stood proud, she started gently, kissing your tip with her plush lips. "What do you want? Tell your mistress." Haseul fell into the dominant role perfectly, making your heart skip a beat as warm breath on your balls made you gasp. "I want you to suck my dick, please." You weren't one to ask nicely but her presence compelled you.

"Nuh uh, beg for me. Beg for me to give you what you want." She urged you further, giving you the smallest touches, jerking her hand up and down on your cock with such patience it made you mad. "Miss, please suck my dick. Please, please." You felt pathetic, whiny utterances falling from your mouth. Haseul smiled as she took you in her awaiting mouth, her head game was elegant and refined. Tongue tracing up and down, little excess saliva pooled from her. This clearly wasn't the first dude she had blown, bobbing incessantly as she coaxed pleasure from your desperate cock.

Gaeul stirred, recovering from the explosive pleasure that just transpired. "No fair! I want his dick aswell!" Gaeul whined like a brat, Haseul withdrew from the your rigid length. "Come on then brat, if you are so desperate come suck it." She moved away, giving Gaeul proper access.

Gaeul gave head much less elegantly than Haseul, slobbering as her head went up and down. She sucked dick eagerly, her tongue warm as it licked your shaft. Haseul watched over her, smiling as her hand perched into Gaeul's black hair. "Honey, I think you could go so much deeper." Without warning Gaeul was shoved, shaft enveloped entirely as it lodged into her throat. Nose pressing into your crotch as Haseul held her down.

"Good, that's more like it honey." Haseul treated her like a fleshlight, yanking her hair as her mouth was forced to take you. Haseul's smile was sadistic, using her other hand to rub your balls. The combined assault made you dizzy, pleasure welling into your core. Gaeul's delicious gags brought you to the mountains edge, so close.

"Miss, I'm gonna cum!" You shouted, thrusting up into Gaeul's mouth as Haseul brought her down. "Cum! Fill this whores mouth up. Give her what she wants!" The new granted permission was rewarded with a violent release of semen, Haseul pulled her off your cock. Semen splashing against Gaeul's teeth, chin and cheeks. A canvas painted as she fell on the floor, aggressively heaving as she struggled for air.

You weren't doing much better, aftershocks felt all over your body as you battled for oxygen. "Fuck, that was.. Wow." You had very few words to say to describe the climax you just had. "It's only just beginning, Y/N. We have a lot to do." Haseul responded for Gaeul, who was laying covered in you.

Gaeul stood up, "I want this cock!" She begged, bringing it towards her silky folds, rubbing them together as you two let out gasps. "Please fuck me!" She whined, her pleading was starting to grate on you. Your hand found her cum coated face, gently pressing her cheek. "You want this dick so badly?" You growled, her lips pouted as she nodded. "Then come ride it."

You laid on the bed, allowing Gaeul to climb onto you. Needy crotches connected as she lowered, her cunt gripped onto you. Latching on as it never wanted to leave, a shared moan leaked from your lips. She hopped up and down, she lacked in technique as she frantically bounced. Her enthusiasm was contagious.

Haseul looked slightly fidgety as she did nothing, watching Gaeul bounce feverishly. You couldnt allow that "Haseul honey, strip and ride my face." She smiled, pulling the remaining fabric off her legs. Her pussy was undeniably perfect, similar to Gaeuls with the main difference being a thin strip of hair laid where Gaeul was bare. Another difference was her scent, significantly more powerful than Gaeul. Your mouth was occupied with Haseul, her legs crushing your face as she rode your tongue.

The dual riding session invoked a chorus of moans as your cock was being abused, "Yes! Yes! FUCK!" Gaeul kept screaming on loop, hands resting firmly on your awaiting chest. You were burrowed tongue first in Haseul, her sticky juices strong with musk as you took everything she gave you. "Ugh, your tongue is so fucking good. I'm gonna cum!"

It was like the three of you were linked by the fates themselves, hands cramping up as Gaeul squeezed one more time, her composure entirely fallen apart as her cunt creamed around you. Orgasming violently, her body spasmed as she screamed. You knew there was no turning back as you came in her greedy hole, which coaxed as much as it could from you. Haseul was the dynamite at the end, delayed slightly as her thighs quivered. Gushing liquid all over your face as she fell onto your chest.

Your hand gravitated towards Haseul's fat ass, spanking it roughly as you kneaded her bakery. "Shame we don't have any Lube, I'd love to pound this ass." You said, finger trailing her backdoor teasing her. "Gaeul, we have some, be a dear and go grab some." Gaeul smiled, throwing her towel around her perfect body. Covering it as she disappeared.

"You know, it's polite to eat a girl's ass right?" She teased, voice dripping with desire and contempt. You couldn't resist a request like that, hands sliding up her sweet ass. Her words gave you a new found hunger as you feasted on her sweaty asshole. Tongue moving on its own accord as you worshipped her. "Fuck.. Your tongue is so good." She groaned.

Her back arched gracefully, giving you better access to her backdoor. One you planned to explore fully later, for now you rimmed her hole. Your hands went to her nipples, squeezing them roughly "Ow! Keep doing that" she pleaded.

Gaeul returned, the towel falling to the ground. Revealing her ravaged body, a semi translucent bottle in her hand. Gaeul threw it into your hand "Go hard on her." It was a simple request, one you were more than happy to oblige. Your cock now shiny with lube as you rubbed it into her awaiting hole.

You pressed in, Haseul's ass significantly tighter than Gaeul's cunt. Squeezing the life out of you as inch went in by inch. Your hands found leverage in her ass cheeks. Her body trembled with your thrusts, aggressive slaps of skin "Fuck! Violate this ass!" Haseul said, urging you on. Hips moving faster to meet demand.

Gaeul wasn't just watching, fucking herself eagerly with her dainty fingers. Mouth agape as saliva drooled from her. The shared moans got louder as Haseul took your cock, there was nothing slow about this rhythm. A flurry of pleasure as you used her as just a hole to fuck. The hotel room reeked of sex, showing your effort to give them a night to remember.

The familiar sensation of your orgasm came quick "Fuck. I'm gonna cum! Cum in this worthless ass!" You kept thrusting as you two chased a high, cum spilling into Haseul's tight ass as you came together.

Gaeul was the first to speak "It's not over yet! I want to try!"

It was a long night.

[gojosrighteyebrow69]

Not what it seems

Isagi Yoichi × Fem!Reader

SMUT 18+

Where the guy you just met at a mixer party, was not what he seemed like

🔞NSFW🔞 alcohol consumption, oral f!receiving, vaginal fingering

'This is fun!' You thought as you find yourself in a mixer party with few of your college friends. At first it seemed like a bad idea, Going to a party to meet bunch of dudes? But it in the end, it wasn't so bad.

Sounds of laughter and glasses clattering was all you could hear as your eyes were fixed to the raven haired boy sitting by the window. He hadn't said much, or drank at all. He looked like a timid and nice guy. Which was exactly your type.

As the party got over, people left in pairs to go hookup. Which left you in a drunken state next to the raven haired boy.

"You drunk?" He asked in his deep husky voice

"A bit" You replied as you observed his face. He was rather handsome which was making your face heat up.

"I saw you staring at me earlier" He smirks, his gaze piercing yours.

"Oh I was? I'm sorry" You seriously didn't know what to say to him. His attractive looks were making you weak in your knees.

"Nah its okay. You like the food?" He says as he watches you gobble down the food.

"Um yeah, its good" Your drunken state was making it difficult to keep the conversation going with this handsome young man Infront of you.

You didn't knew how, but somehow you both instantly clicked. After conversing him for almost an hour, you got to know he was actually a famous footballer!

His timid and reserved demeanor made you feel at ease, That's why when he offered you a ride home, you accepted without any second thoughts.

"Do you often let guys drive you back home?" Yoichi asks as he starts his car.

"Oh no, its the first time" You smile at him while wearing the seatbelt.

"What if I was a Dangerous guy?" He chuckles as he drives the car on the empty road.

"A Dangerous man would never say that. I think you're more of that type who'll protect me from a dangerous guy" You didn't even knew what you were saying due to the amount of alcohol you had consumed, all you knew that Isagi Yoichi looked insanely hot while driving a car.

He only replies with a chuckle. You couldn't help but keep glancing at him time to time as he drove and spun around the steering wheel. He had long fingers, you noticed. Unholy thoughts were filling your head, and you kept blaming the Alcohol.

"We're here" He looks at you with his seductive eyes as he stops the car Infront of your apartment. Before you could say anything, he was out of the car, opening the door for you and helping you out of the car. What a Gentlemen, you thought.

You thanked him with big smile and lead him up the stairs to your apartment. "Would you like a cup of tea? I wanna thank you for driving me back" You cheerfully walked to the front of your door and turned around to face him.

His eyes, seemed different, like they were clouded something.

"If you were any sweeter, It would worry me" He held your chin with his finger, making you look into his eyes.

Before you could reply, his lips were on yours. And in a matter of seconds, you were kissing Isagi Yoichi.

His lips were warm and soft, you didn't knew what was happening, but you found yourself exchanging hot kisses with him by the door of your apartment.

He had your back pressed up against the door as he devoured you lips, his hand trailing down to unbutton the front of your dress.

"Such a Naive girl, you should't just trust guys like that" His kisses trailed down your neck to your collarbone while his hand worked on the buttons of your dress. "Especially the quiet ones" He looked deeply into your eyes, with his finger caressing your bottom lip.

Your mind was too drunk and clouded with lust to even form a reply You just let him do what he wanted, as you felt arousal pool in your panties.

"Are you really that innocent?" He finishes unbuttoning the front of your dress and pull down your bra, exposing your breasts to the cold air. "Or are you just pretending?" You let out a gasp as you feel his lips latching onto your nipple, while he squeezes the other breast harder.

His thumbs grazed over your nipples, teasing them gently, and he could feel them hardening under his touch. He lowered his head, his lips brushing against the other nipple, teasing it. His tongue flicked out, tracing circles around the sensitive bud, and he groaned low in pleasure.

He suckled on your nipple, his tongue wrapping around it, and he savored the taste of you. Your breast filled his mouth, and he moaned around it, his hand kept squeezing the ther breast, massaging it gently.

His hand slowly trailed down your dress, pressing his fingers onto your clit and rubbing it through your panties. "So wet, you really aren't that innocent are you?"

"I knew you weren't, when the moment you looked at me with those eyes" He held your cheeks with his fingers, slowly pushing you inside the apartment and closing the door behind.

"You looked at me like you wanted me to devour your" He held you by your hips, lifting you up and making you sit on the nearby cabinet.

"So I'm gonna do just that" He pushed you back on the cabinet, spreading your legs wider.

Your face was burning as he pushed your panties down to your ankles, your glistening folds on full view.

"Let's get you comfortable, yeah?" He gave you a dirty smirk and lowered his head, kissing your inner thigh, his lips trailing up to your pussy. He licked his lips, his tongue flicking out, tasting your wetness.

You couldn't believe that a man that you just met only a few hours ago had his mouth of you, and was making you feel like you just ascended to heaven.

His tongue darted out again, tracing circles around your clit, feeling you twitch in response. He couldn't hold back anymore, sucking your clit gently, his tongue flicking against it. Your juices coated his face, the taste of you filling his mouth. He couldn't get enough, his tongue darting out to lap it up, his cheeks flushing with desire.

You tangled your fingers through his hair while covering your eyes to avoid looking at the sight of the stranger devouring you on the cabinet.

His fingers slipped inside you, feeling your wetness, your walls tightening around him. "Nuh-uh, come on now. Look at me princess, I'll stop if you won't" He teases his tongue on your clit, looking up into your eyes.

Your face feels like it's burning as you look down at him, and find his eyes looking directly back at you as he worked his fingers and tongue on you. Just the sight of it makes you cum instantly, your juices flooding his mouth.

He licked up every drop of your juices, savoring the taste "That's it... cum for me..." he growled, his voice deep and husky.

He then pulls away, his lips and chin wet from your juices. "You taste sweet, just like I expected" He licks his lips and looks into your eyes.

"Now don't go around trusting guys like that. You shouldn't be so kind and naive, this is how guys take advantage of you" He says while petting your head.

"And don't forget to lock the door" He pecks your lips and walks out of the door, leaving you sitting on the cabinet, dumbfounded about the whole experience.

'What just happened?' You think to yourself.

A/N - Hey guys! Sorry for disappearing. I'm back now and will probably be writing more. This work is heavily inspired by a manga a read recently. Thankyou for reading!

[wasawattpadkid]

Call Me Dewey

Summary: Dewey's coworker set him up on a blind date with no other than you.

Pairing: Dewey Riley x Fem!reader

Warnings: insane amounts of fluff

Dewey was sweating at the idea of leaving the house. "How do I look?" Tatum rolled her eyes standing up. "You look like a narc. Come here." She unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt making him look just a little less uptight. "Do I smell okay?" He lifted his arm making sure his deodorant did its job. "Ew. I don't understand why you're doing this." Tatum crinkled her nose secretly praying Dewey didn't get his heart broken. When he told her the news she was ready for it to be a prank. Something they could laugh about at work the next day. "I don't get it either." He picked the flowers he bought you up before he hit the door. "Make sure to tell her if she hurts you I'm coming for her." Tatum was dead serious and it made Dewey smile. "Will do."

He drove his mom's car because Tatum told him his jeep was "total chick repellent." Dewey checked his reflection in the mirror running over the usual lines for a first date. "What do you do for work?" He said the sentence several times making sure to get it right. You watched the man you're supposed to go out with talk to himself in his car. Gently you knocked on the window. Dewey looked at you screaming in fright. You jolted back with a scream of your own not ready for anything that just occurred. "Oh my gosh!" He said as he opened the door.

"I didn't mean to scare you." You spoke as he wiped his sweaty hands off on his pants. "No I yelled first. Heh..." He awkwardly laughed. You really had a thing for the shy ones. "You look handsome." You complimented him finding it refreshing there was still men who put effort into dates. "You do too. Oh- well you look pretty, very beautiful." He stumbled over his words trying to fix his mistake. You placed a hand on his arm calming him down. "Thank you. Are you ready to get going?" He smiled appreciating your kind nature. Just then he remembered the flowers in his car. "Oh wait!" He spun around pulling the small bouquet from the front seat. "Those are for me?" It was a rhetorical question. "Of course. Who else would they be for?"

Dewey watched your smile get bigger hearing his words. "I'm going to put these in some water and I'll be right back!" You ran back to into your house mentally cursing yourself for not dressing up more. He was attractive. The ironed button up he wore did nothing but favors for him. "Fuck he's cute." You mumbled as you placed the flowers in the tall glass you found in the cabinet. You check your reflection again before heading back outside. Dewey stood outside the car waiting to open the door for you. You bit your lip trying to quickly raise your standards. The man you just met couldn't win you over by just opening the door.

"Thank you." He grinned. "It's no problem." Dewey got into the car starting up the engine. "Do you like Mexican food? There's a neat little restaurant right in town." You picked at your fingernails nervous about how this could go. "Sounds great to me." There was an uncomfortable silence as he drove towards town. "Ryan told me your name is Y/n. I want to make sure I'm saying it right." You saw the slight tremble in his hands wrapped around the steering wheel. "Yeah that's right. It's Dewey right?" The man driving seemed to get embarrassed by the mention of his name. "It's actually Dwight, everyone at the station calls me Dewey. It's a nickname."

"What would you like me to call you?" Dewey tried to hide his smile. No one had ever asked him what he preferred to be called. Even when he corrected someone they still called him Dewey. "Well my friends call me Dewey." It wasn't really an answer to your question. "Okay, when we become friends I'll call you Dewey. Until then it's Dwight." The grown man nodded. "I like that." You both talked back and forth having the usual boring small talk. "What do you do for work?" "How long have you done that?" It was played out but you supposed it was a necessary question.

"Wait I'll get your door for you." Dewey said once he parked the car. He quickly walked around the car holding his hand out for you to grab. "Thank you." You said again walking into the restaurant. The two of you sat down immediately picking up where you left off. "You actually got a cat down from a tree?" You giggled making him laugh as well. "It was a slow day and the poor guy was bound to freeze." The image of Dewey trying to pull a cat from a tree was sure to last awhile. "That was very heroic of you." The waiter came up taking your drink orders before quickly leaving. "I like to think so." Dewey changed the subject towards you. "Do you have any pets?" As you answered Dewey listened to every word. Mentally taking note just so he wouldn't forget later on.

An hour passed like it was minutes. "You're lying!" Dewey held up his fingers. "Scouts honor." Your date talked about work drama and family stories. He seemed to have a story about everything. You both shared childhood memories and little facts about yourselves. Dewey worried when you first got to the restaurant. He didn't date in fact this was the first date he's ever been on. The way Tatum talked she figured it wasn't going to go well. She was always the more realistic person when it came to life. Dewey liked to see the better of people giving everyone their fair chance.

The waiter walked by dropping off the check. Immediately Dewey grabbed the little paper. "How much was mine? I've got cash on me." You always offered to pay for your food. Some men in your dating history had this idea in their head that if they paid for your food you owed them something in return. You happened to know you were worth more than a 15 dollar meal. "I'll take care of it." He smiled at you thinking it was sweet you even offered. "How much was it?" Dewey shook his head at you. "Don't worry about it." It was a kind gesture. Maybe gentleman still existed?

Once the bill was paid Dewey walked you back to his car holding your hand. You felt like a teenager again with butterflies in your stomach. He held the door letting you slip into your seat. You might actually like him. The car started as he rubbed his hand together. "You'll have to help me get back to your place since it's dark." He put the car in reverse pulling out of the parking lot. "Sure." The conversation never stopped. You talked about your favorite shows and movies while he told you about whatever he caught on TV the night previous. The view of your house down the road actually upset you. You wanted to continue talking to him.

"It's right there on the end." You pointed as he pulled up the the residence. "Don't worry about opening my door." You reassured him but he argued. "I'll get your door. My mom would kill me if she found out I didn't hold the door for a pretty lady." Dewey stepped out leaving you to quietly kick your feet. "Y/n." He spoke helping you out of the car. "I had a wonderful time with you tonight." Dewey once again grew nervous fearful of rejection. "I had a good time too. Do you think we could do it again next week?" You stole the words from his mouth. "Really? I mean- yes!" You laughed at his excitement as he walked you to your door. "Are you in the phone book?" He asked hoping you didn't need to write your number down. Dewey hadn't planned to get this far he didn't bring a paper or a pen. "Yep I'm under L/n."

"I'll give you a call tomorrow if that's alright?" Dewey thought about calling you when he got home but he didn't want to seem to clingy. "I look forward to it." He smiled that boyish smile you'd started to grow fond of. "Have a good night Y/n." He said as he started to walk back to his car. "Goodnight Dwight." The man turned around smiling as he spoke. "Call me Dewey."

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Male Yandere Parasite x Female Wife Reader

Inspired from Tomie, but what if a human scientist decided to genetically alter himself to be able to move from one host to another, taking over their body, and replacing the original host entirely? (Original host is dead, with their body acting as a husk puppet for yandere parasite). Yandere parasite decided to do this to try and achieve immortality so he could be with reader darling (literally) forever. The “only problem” is that he has to convince her now to let him do the same procedure on her so they both can be together forever…

This definitely goes into the body horror genre, so I don’t want you to freak out from potential graphic writing if you’re uncomfortable writing it. Stay in your comfort zone as always! I just thought this’d be a fun take on the “eternal soul mates” trope

Thanks!!! 💝

Yandere! Male! Parasite x Female! Professor! Wife! Reader

💝anon, this tested me ways I don't think is possible. But damn was it enjoyable to write.

For your other requests, I have to reject some ideas ;-; Don't get me wrong, your ideas are fantastic, but the requests reached my quota and I spun the wheel to choose which requests to do TT__TT

Not just 💝's requests too, some of others got rejected also due to again, having reached the quota already huhuhu.

Yandere! Parasite name: Acheron

Immortality. A lot of people want to live forever. Some go through the supernatural route, some religious, and some the scientific route of insanity.

Acheron has always been the weird kid.

A lot of people doesn't understand his genius, and his fixations on parasites didn't really help people understand his unique understanding of the world.

And he, who doesn't really see the importance in human interaction, didn't care to connect with people also.

He's quite cold, always had a perpetual annoyed look in his face, and doesn't smile until he talks about parasites.

He's in his own little world, in his own little space.

Yet, Acheron, despite being an unusual genius in his family, can only be reclused so much until he needs to actually go fight in the real adult world.

After graduating with a parasitology degree, he was lost, and didn't know what to do.

Sure, he could work in labs and study parasites as much as he wants, but working in a lab with other scientists that can be potentially more knowledgeable than him doesn't really sit well.

He's quite arrogant in his own right.

So, setting up a lab in his own home, he started to do experiments by himself.

Nobody to tell him that his experiments are unethical, nobody to tell that he's doing too much, nobody to tell him that "No, Acheron, using people for your parasitic experiments is bad!"

Well, who is the bad person now, huh?

He looked up at the vial in front of him. It was weird, seeing this small parasite wriggle and write letters on the glass with its slime.

The consciousness of the person he kidnapped to experiment on has transferred to this little worm.

And, on the table, is a comatose body who's only alive due to the machinery.

Never mind that the parasite spelled "HELP ME" on the glass, he just continued to place the parasite up the nose of the comatose body.

And, as he got out of the experimentation room and locked it up, he smirked once he saw the body twitch and writhe, and by the two hour mark, the man was slamming the glass walls, demanding to be let go and for him to return to his old body.

Acheron lets out a loud, triumphant, yet cruel laugh.

Consumed by his own ego, pride, and desire for immortality, he finally made the perfect vessel to be immortal himself.

He punched the red button and turned his back on the man, whose coughs and wheezes so as his pleadings turned to quiet murmurs. And, a sound of a falling body was heard.

And that is the story of how the first immortal emerged from a humble, blood filled, homemade lab.

It was the year 20XX, 50 years after the mysterious disappearance of Acheron in his home. It was burned down, but not a body was found.

Well, his body is not found.

Countless bodies were found under his garden, and one was found inside the burnt home. Including his parents.

There is no clear factor on which targets Acheron picked. All of them were at random.

But all of them had one thing in common. Inside of them were some type of parasite that was unknown.

It seems genetically modified, but was too dead or too burnt to be identified properly.

He's known as the parasitic recluse, as he's rarely seen outside of his, well, his parents' home, and that he's a parasitologist.

People theorized on what he did, and why was he experimenting. Did his parents knew about his work? Or are his parents in on it?

It was skin crawling, thinking what Acheron might have done to these people.

It's the start of the new semester in all of educational facilities. In one of the Ivy League Universities, one of the beloved professors in the biology department is walking towards the field to induct the new professors which just got hired.

Young as he may, he smiled at the students and co-personnel passing by him as took his place in one of the chairs.

It's Acheron, who took over the body of a well known parasitology professor in the University. After he passed by the office one day with his previous body, the professor coincidentally got a heart attack and died. So, he transferred bodies and framed it that his previous body was the one who got a heart attack.

It's been three years since then, and he finally got access to a bigger lab, and more knowledge from this body's previous knowledge.

He's thriving immensely. Immersed in work, experiments, and research now that he has all the time in the world. Honestly, this would have been such a heartfelt want if not for the fact that he did horrible experiments to people to gain such power.

Once the speakers played a royalty free music to start the ceremony, Acheron stood tall and scanned the new professors before landing his eyes on a starry eyed woman.

His heart raced a bit as he saw you look at him with such adoration, like he was your idol.

It was... Refreshing. He's never been looked up to like this, even before the ceremony.

After the inauguration, you hopped towards him with a grin. He also had a small smile.

"Sir [redacted]!" You cheerily said, pertaining to the person Acheron is occupying now. "I'm such a big fan of yours! Your researches, and I have a collection of parasites you discovered!"

Acheron chuckled liking your enthusiasm. It feels good to have such a fan like yourself.

"Well, thank you, miss..?"

"Y/N!"

"Y/N..." The way your name rolled off his tongue felt good, but he doesn't know why.

"May I invite you to drink some coffee, sir? I really want to talk to you more..." You shyly said, holding his hand.

He cleared his throat, suddenly shy and hot.

For the first time in his life/ves, he felt attraction, a simple crush wanting to bloom to a bigger thing. It's scary, but his heart yearned for more. After years of being barren, you burrowed yourself into a you-shaped hole in his heart and refused to be let out.

Slowly his fixation got a one up. Other than parasites, he's fixated on you.

Dating him is fun. Although, there are some times he gets a bit too jealous and possessive. He told you he planted some trackers in you, he's confrontational about your other co-workers and even students, and threatened to kill himself if you leave him.

It was extreme that even Acheron is winded by how extreme he is. But does he care? Somehow, but his heart was too much to be dictated.

And you, the blind person you are due to idolization, ignored these red flags and married him only after 6 months of dating.

After marrying, on your 1st year anniversary, he revealed everything.

And I mean, everything.

Acheron fully became comfortable around you.

He's much more lenient now as he studied researches and experimented with parasites.

It was weird, seeing him suddenly become so complacent with you. When he's such a red flag before, now it's almost a complete 180.

Did his insecurities die off..?

Now that you say that, he's really busy these days.

Maybe that's why he doesn't really have time for you anymore?

Somehow, that upset you a lot.

So, you confronted the guy in the laboratory you and him shared.

Opening the door slightly, you poked your head through the opening and saw him experimenting on a worm. The worm wiggled, as if spelling something.

Your heart trembled. Yes, you love Acheron, but sometimes, he does freak you out.

"Acheron? Are you busy?" You whispered, a bit of a sad edge on your voice.

"Hmm?" He looked up at you and grinned. "Love! How are you?"

He took off his gloves and went up to you. Hugging your body against him excitedly.

"What do you need?"

"Um, actu--"

"Well, whatever. Love! I finally remade the parasite!"

Your stomach dropped. Suddenly feeling dread on your stomach.

"P-parasite..?"

"Yes."

He grabbed a vial and showed you a worm suspended in water. It was just calmly wriggling around.

"I want you to inhale this, alright? Don't worry, it will only hurt a bit." He said with a manic grin.

Your heart pounded, your trembling eyes looking at the vial and back to him.

You could see parasites wriggling around in his eyes.

"Come on love, don't worry. It's completely safe!"

He held your shoulders, gripping it strong that you can't even break out of his hold.

You can't run.

You wanted this relationship.

So suffer the consequences.

"We will be together, forever!"

[mysteriouslyjovialcolor]

Abu Dhabi 2016

-Brocedes divorce??

-Carlos is p21??

-Aww this is Button and Massa’s last race

-“Just follow his man home” Yhey just want to create the allegations at this point

-14th front row lockout, 7 1-2s for Mercedes (interestinggg, also pretty cool)

-Longest season on record?

-Oh shit Max spun

-Oh wow the commentary for turn 1 is intense

-Finallyyyy a proper leaderboard

-P19 Max 😢

-I miss Daniel having a good car

-The leaderboard is gone again

-I love that wheel to wheel action

-He’s p12 now

-Poor Kevin

-Bottas retirement too?

-I like this circuit

-Knew he’d make it to points

-It’s so weird seeing a good Mercedes pit stop strategy (like what happened to them now??)

-At least Ferrari has been consistently bad ig

-What would happen if Brocedes took themselves out here? Does Nico just win because he’s leading?

-The hell is “the lollipop man”

-Haha Max is actually such a menace to Nico

-No wonder Red Bull signed Checo, he actually defends really well

-Oh no!! Jenson!! That would be such a bad ending to a retirement 😢😢

-What’s with these last two races having drivers retire with emotional endings

-Are they not getting it back out??

-Aww his mom

-Poor Daniil

-Ohh I just realized why Max is holding Nico off

-Poor Nico really just got stuck between the fight between Red Bull and Ferrari

-Oh come on Daniel

-That was a pretty cool Nico overtake

-Max playing the team game is not what I was expecting

-The pit crew fist bumping is adorable

-The way this was supposed to be a Brocedes war but somehow Nico is more worried about Max

-The fact that he somehow went from p19 to p2 to hold Nico off and now he’s in p8 like??

-Yayy undercut

-He’s p5 now!

-“Red Bull have just outsmarted Ferrari” and not for the last time

-Okay how does anyone understand radios without subtitles

-I’m so sorry Carlos, I forgot you were in this race

-Oh wow I’m actually being impressed by Checo rn

-Good one from Daniel tho

-Max is really just Nico’s personal demon isn’t he

-“Box box box”

-“What a recovery that’s been” indeed

-Props to Mercedes pit crew

-Why is Paris Hilton hereee

-Aww that’s really sad about Jenson

-“I’ll try my best to find that (joy) somewhere else” I hope he has

-The way these people went from praising Verstappen to villainizing him needs to be studied

-“What position am I in?” Do the drivers just not know until someone tells them? Actually stupid question, them not knowing makes sense

-Aww kinda wanted Vettel to go till the end

-Does Lewis win this race and just not the championship?

Cause it’s kinda underwhelming not winning the race but winning a championship isn’t it?

-Manifesting Max podium ✨

-Just hit me that I’m watching cars race, what has my life become

-Yay Carlos is back!

-Lapping cars must be so annoying

-Oh no Carlos!! Whyyy!

-It would be a shame if he retired now

-Aah bad day to be Toro Rosso

-“Here comes the cavalry” that was cold

-I like when they call Daniel the “last of the late breakers”

-I spoke too soon, Ferrari made a comeback

-Do I unmanifest the Max podium?

-Once again wondering if Nico loses and still wins cause whaaat

-ALSO BRING IN RADIO SUBTITLES

-Sebastian podiummm???

-The way Max is somehow helping Nico rn by holding Seb back

-Sebastian Podium!!!!

-No way this becomes a Ferrari win right?

-I have no idea what’s happening with Lewis rn

-3 more lapsss

-Ooh Nico’s wifeee

-this inter-team tension is crazy

-Ohmygod I can’t believe Lewis is going to win this

-“I’m losing a world championship so I want to win this race” woah

-Aaaah no way Nico wins a championship with a p3

-Brocedes divorce.

-This is so stressfullll

-Let’s go Nico!!!!

-That was a great race!!

-Aww all the drivers waiving is really cute

-Awww his wifeee, that’s adorable

-Massa radio 😢

-Donuts!!

-NR6!!!

-Aww Sebastian hug

-Still bizarre to me that he won from p2 (I really need to learn how the point system works)

-The podium has 9 wc combined (pretty cool)

-Aaaaah Lewis and Seb just talking and him not making eye contact with Nico

-Seb just reveling in the tension

-Sebastian is so cute, bring him back

-I had way too much to say for this race

- (Had to scream into my pillow) Brocedes are so messy

- Aww he dedicated his win to his wife

- He’s cryingggg

- I wish I got to see Sebastian race in real time 😭

- They’re really asking for the drama

- “It was tough to beat you” 😭😭

- What is this tension ? I will die

- NR6!! Deserved!! 🎉🎉

[papasmicstand]

It feels like a day that we need to hear about Copia drooling over some boobs, right? (3k words)

Sex Surrogacy for Satan

Chapter 4: Lesson 3 - Copia - Restraint

Summary:

Secondo and Terzo are struggling to cope with their assignments. Meanwhile it's time to meet the youngest Emeritus. Copia tends to get a little carried away. Can you keep him from blowing it?

Nimble fingers tugged at his zipper and undid the button of his slacks.  Secondo leaned back in his chair, gripping the arm rests as Sister Gwen freed his endowment with lustful intent.  Oh fuck .  Warm lips met the tip of his cock, hesitantly at first.  He was half hard and growing fuller with the attention.  This was their first time together and she had never been with one of the Papas before.  Papa knew that she was a rather quiet sister and gave her some attention as part of his duty as an Emeritus… Well, maybe he was secretly hoping that this would be the low pressure sex he needed to build his confidence back.   Secondo didn’t want to admit it, but his time with you had left him rattled.

Her tongue became bolder as she felt him reacting, laving a trail down the underside of his shaft and taking her time with his balls.  A growl stirred in his throat.  He felt powerful, masculine.  This is just what he needed.  She let one hand continue to play with his balls, while her mouth went back to his needy dick.  She began experimentally bobbing down and back, not quite able to take him all the way, but she moaned and drooled on as she worked.  He let himself thrust into her throat a couple times and couldn’t help but smile when she gagged a little on his length.  

I’ve still got it.  ‘Feel something.’  I feel plenty, and she’s about to feel my cum in her throat.  He delivered a third, powerful thrust which unfortunately caused her head to hit the underside of the desk.

She pushed his chair back, freeing his cock.  “Papa?!  Fuck, that hurt.”

“Apologies Sorella, I got a bit carried away.  Are you alright?” he asked gently, albeit his voice tight from how close he was.

“It’s fine,” she rubbed her head, “how about I sit on your lap instead?”  She stood and began to approach, but Papa wheeled his chair back and then jumped to his feet.  

“Eh, no time, I need you bent over this desk,” he spun her so that she was facing the neatly stacked papers on his desk and she folded.  Her fingers splayed against the dark wood.

Secondo hastily put on a condom and lined up, ready to continue.  That was close .  His hands cupped her breasts as he pushed in.  A groan escaped his lips at the tight wetness.  

“Go slow,” she whispered, “I haven’t been with anyone in over a year.”

“A year?” Secondo startled.

 “Closer to two really.  I was waiting for someone special,” she looked back at him over her shoulder.

Her words made him freeze.  “Special?” he asked.

“Don’t stop,” she huffed, and he clumsily restarted, slower this time.  “Yeah, special… personal.  You know I don’t go to the orgies.  Anyway, enough talking.”

He wasn’t sure what was tighter, his throat or her cunt?  He felt like a major ass.  He wanted to run away, but his conscience told him he needed to make this better for her.  His right hand snaked down to make circles on her clit.  The left he planted on the desk for leverage.  Long, deep strokes that made her arch her back.  He tried not to think about what she said, just concentrate on how good it felt to be there, how she was dripping around his length.

She moaned and tried to find something to hold onto as the power of Papa’s thrusts pushed her further forward, papers now scattered and falling off the edge of the wooden surface.  Sweat beaded on his head as he watched her take him fully.  The sensations were bringing him closer to the edge until Sister Gwen threaded her left hand with his, fingers intertwined.  No, no, no .  She squeezed his hand and Secondo could feel himself losing his erection.  It was too intimate.  He decided he couldn’t have the reputation of the flaccid Papa so he made a split-second decision to fake it.

One last thrust, and he gripped her tight as he collapsed on top of her, his weight pushing her chest flush against the desk.  He felt her come undone around him, hoping that she was wrapped up enough in her own orgasm that she didn’t realize he was dry.  He used every muscle he had to mimic the flexing of a normal cock and then quickly pulled out and removed the condom.  

He zipped himself back in and straightened his clothes, and then began retrieving and restacking the papers.  Sister Gwen was still coming down from her high, and watched him before slowly straightening her clothes.  

“Eh, I do hope it was worth the wait,” Papa said awkwardly.  

Before she could answer, Terzo barged into the room, and quickly assessed that the two had been fucking.

“Satan’s fiery ballsack, everyone is getting laid except me,” he whined, taking a seat on a chair in the office without any invitation.

Sister Gwen was blushing fiercely and quickly righted her hair and darted out the door closing it behind her.

“Have you heard of knocking, stronzo?” Secondo grumbled, sitting back at his desk, although secretly relieved to be freed from his situation.

“Fratello, this is an emergency.  I’ve been hard almost constantly for two days now.  You have to handle confession for me tonight.”  There were tears in his eyes and he crossed his legs gingerly to limit the friction on his aching shaft.

“I don’t have to do anything,” he said, annoyed that his younger brother was flaunting his ‘problem’ around.

“Please, please, please.  This is worse than that time I tried viagra,” Terzo was begging now.

Viagra.  Hmmmm , Secondo had an idea.  “Fine, I’ll cover for you.  But stay out of my office and out of my business.”

It was eight o’clock on the nose when you heard a quiet knock on your door.

Cardinal Copia.  Primo had warned you that he was much more self-conscious than the other two.  Likely inexperienced despite his age.  You knew your approach would have to be more gentle than with the others.  You had asked him where he would be most comfortable meeting and were taken aback when he asked to come to your room, as far as possible away from his brothers and their ghouls.  But at the same time you understood, and decided to allow it.

The room was much cozier than those in the clergy’s wing.  It was in the style of a studio apartment with a kitchenette, small living area, and a bed.  The only separate room was a tiny bathroom.  Despite the small size, it suited your needs well and you had things tidy and inviting in time for your meeting.  You answered the door in a casual blouse and skirt.  

“Hello, is this the right time?” your shy guest asked, even though he knew it was and had been worried about it all day.

“It sure is,” you waved him in and introduced yourself.  “Have a seat, and get comfortable,” you motioned to the Cardinal.  His whole body was tense.

Copia was holding a single red rose and fidgeted with it.  “Oh, this is for you,” he handed you the flower.  The stem was broken from where he had been fussing with it.

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to.  Think of me as you would any colleague,” you smiled and found it some water.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure how this works,” he stammered.

You sat next to him, “Well, that’s the good news, there’s no one right way.  We’ll figure it out together.”

His eyebrows were pinched, and he looked over at you full of concern.  “You have to do this.  We don’t have to do anything.  Seriously, just tell Primo whatever you need to and I’ll back you up.”

You could feel the nervousness emanating from the small Cardinal.  “This job is not a chore for me.  It can be quite enjoyable.  As you preach here, sex shouldn’t be taboo. It’s fine to learn about your sexuality and improve your sexual function just like any other self-improvement.”

“I agree, but this is humiliating,” he reddened.

You met his eyes, “If anything we do feels humiliating we’re stopping.  I’m not here to laugh at you, I want sex to be amazing for you.”

“Trust me, it already feels too amazing, that's the problem,” the Cardinal sighed and looked at his hands.

You wished you could make him feel more at ease.  “I’ve read the feedback, but it’s not that bad.  At least everything is in working order, and the enthusiasm is there.  Trust me it could be worse.”

Copia took a breath, “So, what exactly do we do?”

“Well, my plan was to just talk until you feel comfortable.  And then to try some touching.  Does that sound OK?” you asked.

“Eh… si,” he agreed, but his leg was bouncing wildly as he tried to settle his nerves.

“Given the report that I received, this will work better if you find me attractive.  If you don’t I won’t be offended, but I’ll ask Primo to have a different surrogate assist,” you offered.

The Cardinal’s head snapped up, “Of course I find you attractive, you’re beautiful.”  He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, eyes now lingering on the blush of your cheeks and the curve of your jaw.

You smiled warmly at the Cardinal.  He was always genuine and you could tell that he meant what he said.  “Come and sit next to me, tell me about your hobbies or interests.  Secondo told me that you have pet rats?”

“Si, I have six of them now,” Copia lit up and talked to you about his furry friends and his music for the next twenty minutes.  You slowly closed the space between the two of you until you were angled toward each other on the couch, legs touching.  His had finally stopped bouncing.  Although of course you were remembering the reason you were there, you couldn’t help but feel an extra warmth toward Copia.  He had a kind energy and was intelligent, a really nice person to be around.

As he reached the end of what he was saying he suddenly became nervous again.  His voice caught in his throat and his hands were sweaty.

You noticed immediately.  “Hey, we can just keep talking if you want?  I like hearing about your projects.”

Instead he put a hand on your thigh and began to ease a gloved hand back and forth.

“Perfect, that feels really nice.  Here,” you helped him ease his gloves off and set them to the side.  “You have my permission to touch me wherever you’d like,” you encouraged.

“I don’t think you really want that,” he chuckled lowly.  

You raised an eyebrow, “Why do you think your touch would be unwanted?”

He thought about past rejections and where some of those feelings came from, and shoved it back down.  “It’s nothing, nevermind.  May I kiss you?” he redirected.  

You nodded, and he left delicate kisses from your neck to your lips.  You were surprised that he was a good kisser.  The amount of tongue was not too much and he was playful in the way he moved his mouth against yours.  You smiled and felt your breathing adjust.  Some days you felt really lucky to have this job.

The two of you continued to make out.  You noticed he was not touching your body much at this point.  His hands gently framed your face and fingers teased into your hairline.  “You smell nice,” he sighed.

“That’s good, let’s pause here,” you put your hands on his chest to push back a little eliciting a sad sound from the Cardinal.  “Let’s check in.  What’s your excitement level on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being I’m soft and listening to Primo say Mass and 10 being I’m rock hard and about to cum?”

Copia’s POV-

He gave you a small smile that turned into a blush.  “Eh, I’m not soft, but I’m still in control.  I’d say 5.”  The truth was he had been trying valiantly to keep himself under control.  He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you.

“Excellent, let’s continue when you’re ready.  Stop if you get to an 8.”  He resumed soft kisses, Fuck, she even tastes good .  He swallowed nervously.  I can do this, I can do this. His eyes were mostly closed but he noticed when you began to unbutton your shirt.  He allowed his hand to trace the newly exposed skin before sliding down to tease the fabric of your bra.  “This is where I tend to run into trouble,” he groaned, lost in admiration.

“Think about what-” your breath hitched as he palmed a breast through the thin lace.  “What is it that threatens to make you lose control?”

“It’s all of it,” his voice cracked.  Boobs had always been a weakness for him, and yours were exquisite.  “The feeling,” he cupped them hungrily.  He bit his cheek at the realization that yours were at least a D cup.  They squished beneath his demanding grip, “so soft.”  His voice faded to a whisper, “The way they look.”  He couldn’t articulate it, but it was hypnotizing, the way his eyes locked on them.  He didn’t want to ever let them go.  He began kneading them like some sort of fidget, pausing here and there to give them a jiggle or smoosh them together.  I could slide my dick right between them… 

“Is it less intense if you close your eyes?” you asked.

He was glad he had kept that last thought to himself, he tried to close his eyes and clear his head but new improper thoughts took its place as he felt the ghost of your nipples through the semi-sheer fabric.  They were hard and his thumbs couldn’t help but roll over them.  His cock twitched, summoning all the remaining blood from his brain.  “Not really,” his thumbs tapped and swirled like he was using a game controller.  Lucifer this isn’t fair.  He moaned, I could take one in my mouth, maybe even both at the same time-

“That’s ok, the mind-body connection is complex,” you caressed his arms.  “Tell me if you notice any changes when I do this,” you reached around and undid the clasp of the bra, and handed  the delicate garment to him.  

His eyes flew open.  He held it slack jawed, staring at your chest fully exposed.  Pink buds pointing at him as you waited, arching your back slightly.

“Eight, it’s an eight at least,” he exhaled shakily, “Give me a minute.”  He adjusted his slacks as they were painful now.  Surely you could see his dick throbbing through his tight pants.

“Ok, breathe through it.  We’ll take a short break,” you reassured, scooting away from him so there was no physical contact.

He nodded gratefully. 

“You’re doing so well, I’m really proud of how far you’ve pushed yourself today,” you thought about how Papa’s II and III had been unhappy at the end of their sessions and really wanted Copia to feel better at the end of his.

“Shit,” he whispered. 

“No, really, you're a very skilled kisser.  My nipples were hard before you even touched me there,” you encouraged.

He probably should have told you he had a praise kink.  “It’s a ten,” he choked, hand desperately squeezing the base of his dick through his slacks but it was too late.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he chanted as he came.  He hadn’t come in several days and you couldn’t help but watch the fabric darken as he fell apart, cock pulsing traitorously as it made a mess.  

You hugged him gently, as you realized what had happened. “First of all, we don’t apologize for coming” you corrected.  “If the roles were reversed, would you be upset if your partner came from touching you?”

His eyebrows shot up, “No, but that would never happen.”  As absurd as it sounded, it sent a thrill up his spine to even think about.

“Sexual response is very complex, never say never,” you shrugged.  “And secondly, this just means we have an area to work on.  We’ll try again next time.”  You rose and went to the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth.  “Will you let me clean you up?  It could help you get used to my touch?”

Copia panicked, but then nodded.  He leaned back and allowed you to unbutton and unzip his pants.  

You knelt in front of him and spread his knees, preparing to clean the sticky mess from his cock.  “Place a hand on my breast while I do this,” you commanded, staring up at him through your lashes.  “It’s just skin, nothing special.”

Nothing special?  His heart was immediately pumping again.  He was sure that he could have you in his bed every night and still not be able to control himself.  And the way you were looking at him.. I wonder if this is how she kneels when she gives head?    

With extra slow movements you wiped away the evidence of his failure.  You allowed yourself to squeeze and tease his shaft as you worked.  “That was a lot of semen, I’m guessing that you didn’t masturbate before our session?” you asked.  

He shook his head no, embarrassment flooding his cheeks again.  

“It’s something you could try before a meeting with a Sibling, but we will try more exposure as well.  You were still touching him and inevitably he had filled out once again.

“You may want to stop, he said.  I’m back to a 7.” 

You stopped.  “Your homework,” you whispered, “is edging.  I will see you in four days.  No cumming.  But I want you touching yourself and others if you’d like.”  

He whimpered.  “But what if I can’t help it?”

“No cum-ming!”  You sang, and stood buttoning your shirt.

Copia wrangled his large member back into his pants and sulked, making the walk of shame back to his quarters with cum drying on his pants.

[duffyyy911]

A Line in Black - 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 4 - 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝙺𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔

Summary: The detective gets a rude awakening after trying to block out the previous night's events.

Content Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and smoking. Mentions of prostitution. We aint getting freaky just yet gang dw

Word Count: 8k Author's Notes: I wanted to get some more dialogue and tension into this chapter, so nothing precisely exciting happens besides a riveting back and forth between the reader and Lest. I am going to be starting a new job soon, so Idk how frequent chaps are going to come out after the next one, but I'll work hard as long as yall keep reading!

Proofread by: @6selkie @sillyb0nez Masterlist: Here

The faint hiss of the waters mist, a gentle greeting that was followed up with the roar of the tide hitting its mark and tumbling back into the sea. The bitter taste of salt on the air, the same savory feeling that invited itself onto your tongue every time you took a deep breath in. You felt the frail chunks of paint chip off beneath your thumb as you gripped onto the rusting railing of the stern-side bridge deck. You pulled your eyes open with great difficulty, prying the two lids apart as if they had been glued together for a length of time that had all but slipped away in the moment. You looked out onto the waters, a curved horizon of deep blue washing into a cascade of rich orange and grays as waters met an open painted sky in the distance, the evening clouds falling down to the skyline in front of the embers of a sunset. You could hear the distant cawing of the seagulls turning in circles far above your head, the whipping of the short nautical flags hanging from their mounts, and the creak of the ship’s elongated hull breaking the waves. The harsh wind blew in from your side and you braced, then quickly fastened the buttons of your tall blue wool jacket. You think for a moment as you do, pausing on each twist of the buttons through their slits. You try to remember where you even found the jacket. Or when you even put it on. You looked back out over the horizon, side-eying a flood of blackened dark clouds rolling in from the distance and beginning to wipe the slate of the sky clean. The rock of the tide picked up and shifted the ship beneath you, the vessel billowing out a low, deep groan as it took the ocean’s whipping. You felt the sailing cap upon your head slip and slink lopsided against your ear. You slowly readjusted it, and you looked on in silence as the storm blew in.

As the winds picked up and a heavy rain blew in with a sea storm’s darkness, you headed inside for the night in the bridge quarters. You hadn’t even stopped to look at the messy state of the wheelhouse, a picture’s example of the kind of quarters sailors keep, before you had grabbed a hold of the valve to the hatch door at the back of the cabin and began to give it a turn. With great force, the wheel slipped and slowly spun out of its place. You toed in through the hatch and took a moment to shut the heavy metal door behind you and twist the wheel back. The loud splatter of the whipping rains outside died down a bit, mixing into the gentle roar of the waves and the distant crackle of thunder on the air beyond the waters. You hung up your coat in your dim bunkroom, catching the collar on the hook screwed into the motley coat of dim green painted on the wall. You go to throw your hat on your bed, glancing at the empty bunk lying half-made and wamthless. That’s when you got a glimpse of them. The person sitting in the low armchair at the end of your bunk, between the back and a tall slim wall closet. You only caught a glimpse of their legs and the legs of their quite expensive looking pants, but every time you tried to recall what they looked like, you couldn’t. Their color, their shape, nothing came to you once you looked away.

“Rough sea out there, captain?” They hummed, cupping their hand around a crystal ashtray in their lap. They puffed on the end of a slender cigarette, ashing it into the tray from time to time with a hollow flick beat everytime the paper tapped against the glass. Fwick. Fwick.

“Not until just now. Storm’s coming in, might be a long one.” You grumbled back. You turned about and slowly sank down to the creaking bunk mattress as you took a minute to breathe. Your hands looked a lot more worn and aged since the last time you looked at them. You rub the callouses built up by reigning in lines at night and hauling up trappers boxes in the morning, wondering where you even found the time to do all of it. Your thoughts began to linger for a moment, dancing away until they were pulled back by the almost silent fwick of the cigarette being ashed once more. “I thought you were going out on the boats?”

“The whales didn’t come back today.” The person sighed deeply from over the shoulder of where you sat. Every glimpse you got of them, unrecognizable once you blinked away. Fuzzy and featureless, like a little kid’s drawing that had been scribbled over. “So I had them bring the dingy back in.”

“Figures.” You murmured as you slipped off your shoes and moved them under your bed bunk with a kick. “I’ve got the line in, all I have to do is make the rounds before turning in.” You mentally go down your list of many chores one could not just leave until tomorrow when they run a vessel.

“I was thinking.” They spoke up as you slowly laid yourself back into your thin uncomfortable mattress. You threw your wrist over your eyes to block the sharp light of the cabin’s ceiling lamp that wobbled back and forth from the rock of the wave. 

“Does it pay well?” You joked to keep yourself from dozing off.

“No-” They paused with a breathy dismissive chuckle on their voice. “No, it’s nothing.”

“What? Come on.” You encouraged them. You blindly threw out your arm across the bed in their direction. Although it didn’t land its mark, eventually you could feel warmth on your fingertips as they grazed the ends of another’s. Your bones ached, a body in need of rest. And if you had to stand back up, you just might fall apart at the joints.

“Well, I was-” They paused again. You could almost picture the stupid smile on their lips. Whatever they looked like. “Do you remember that little village? It was somewhere south of Ionia, I don’t know.”

“Yeah.” You hummed half-asleep. You had no clue what they were talking about, but you weren’t about to pull aside a detour conversation about remembering the umpteenth place you had stopped along the way.

“I was thinking-”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

A series of heavy knocks on the door of the cabin thundered out. Neither of you two said a word, or seemed to react at all. You sighed deeply, feeling your chest rise and fall as you pinched the bridge of your nose. The comment about falling apart at the joints may yet to come true.

“Captain. I think she’s here to see you.” They hummed with a monotone canter.

“What? Who? What for?” You sat up from your daze on the bunk. 

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“She sounds very displeased, captain. You’d better hurry.”

“Yes, but what for?” You huffed as you stood up from the bunk, blindly putting your shoes back on after what seemed like only mere seconds.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“The door. Captain.”

“But what for!” You barked coarsely. You grabbed a good hold onto the valve to the turn locks and gave it a good spin. You wondered at who was making all that racket. Something big enough to shake such a heavy metal piece. The rusted hinges to the hatch wound up, and the door swiveled open. And in the nothingness of the void beyond the frame, you fell through like flopping limply into water. An ocean.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Detective!”

“What? I’m up!” You jerked awake from your stiff slumber on your old mattress. You didn’t even know who you were responding to yet, the way you were ripped from that dream that was now beginning to fade.

Bang. Bang. Bang. 

The knocking was practically shaking the drywall at this point. The thudding of a closed fist against wood did not help out your now increasingly tightening headache that had creeped in on it que. “I’m up!” You hollered once more. You tasted your dry mouth with discomfort creasing across your face as you looked about. Your room, as empty and sad as you remember it. Your jacket was laying crumpled up at the foot of the bed, draped over your legs. You took a second to check your clothes, still the same ones you had on last time you remember, damper now that you had overheated in the night. You glanced out the window, looking to the sky above the rooftop surrounding the alleyway. Bright, blue, cloudless. A restful day, it seemed.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Now who’s the deaf one!” You called out. You rubbed the corners of your eyes with your dry hands as you breathed in with some struggle. The muscles in your chest felt tight, and there was a weird swell in the back of your nose that bothered you every time you inhaled or swallowed. You were starting to hope this wasn’t the start of another cold, one that you could not afford right now.

“I’m coming in.” You heard your caller announce through the thin door. You already knew who it was. There would be nobody else in this entire city that would be able to get a hold of you so quickly. Because if it was Lyric, he would have already invited himself in. “You’d better have clothes on.”

“It’s not a red carpet night at the cabaret. So, yeah.” You groaned as you sat up fully and scooted to the edge of the mattress. You planted feet onto the cool slickness of the floorboards, your knees sticking up and against your chest as you took a moment to collect yourself. Your head spun like you just got flattened by a freight train, but your senses were slowly returning to you piece at a time. You watched the knob twist and the door swing slowly open with a gentle and hesitant push. 

Lest stopped half way in through the doorway, pausing when she took a good look at your living conditions. You weren’t sure if the brief twitch in her right ear that shot up its spine and flicked off the tip, or the subtle flare of her bottom eyelids, or the single step back she took before she masked the actions in an instant, were signs of shock or disapproval. But there her eyes went, flicking around and silently casting judgement that would never be shared. 

“Is this where you’ve been all day?” She asked impatiently, leaning against the frame of your door with an undecided half-fold of her arms. She herself, however, looked entirely out of place in your habitat. She stood tall before you in a maroon peacoat, one long enough that its trim was glissading down far past her knees and almost all the way down to the floor. She kept her same headscarf, the folds of which she still hid behind at times when she spoke to you. Overtop of the pinkish scarf, she wore an equally wine hued breton cap with a single band around the base of its trim, which seemed to also have slits fashioned into its top to accommodate your boss’ ever tall ears. 

You blinked at her in silence, your right eye closed to block the light coming in from the window while the other followed the yellow of Lest’s irises subtly darting around the room before they came to a stop after meeting yours.

“I mean, where else would I be?” You wiped your palm down your face in exhaustion, a vain hope that maybe something could speed up the recovery. You felt like you were a schoolboy in trouble for something you weren’t quite sure what you did. You scratched behind your ear in thought, what had you done recently? “Why? Were you looking for me? For how long?” You croaked out the measly questions one at a time.

“All day.” Lest exhaled with feigned disbelief. “First I looked in the nearest bars, none of them had heard or seen of you except for one. They said you had got in a fist fight, then left and they hadn’t seen you since.”

“Oh yeah?” You idly asked as you slowly stood up with great difficulty. You could feel the blood rush to your already tight head, its pulsating rhythm growing more intense for a short few seconds before dying out again. You threw your arms back and up behind your head, stretching with a cat’s yeowl as you felt the muscles in your back stretch apart reluctantly. 

“Then, I went to the police department across the bridge, to see if you were in the tank.” Lest continued on, a droning working its way into her voice as she caught on that you were only half listening. “Aren’t you going to ask how I got in?” She cocked an eyebrow, fully committing to folding her arms as she watched you walk by her and into your cramped bathroom.

She might be good at keeping a straight face at a poker game, sure, but you could read a little more into the contents of a person’s book than most people. Whatever you did, going missing like that did genuinely worry her. Most people would have just asked around, maybe sent a letter. Wait some more. But her? No, she came to look for you directly and she didn’t stop until she reached your bedroom door.

“I probably left my door unlocked.” You shrugged as your bare feet made contact with the cheap tile. You flipped on the stingy fluorescent light with a flinch and a shudder that trailed up your spine. You bent over your bathroom sink to get a better look at yourself. You had to admit, you felt a lot worse than you looked. But you looked far from ideal, about only a single dollar out of a million. You pulled the skin of your right cheek down, checking under your eyelids as the flesh shifted and stretched. “Or, you unlocked it. Bavo, if so.”

“Your landlord.” Lest snorted. “She was dropping a cardboard box off, told me it was for you.” She peered at you from around the door, in a spot where if you craned your neck just right you could see through both doors and get a full look at the reflection of the mirror.

“Where’s the kid?” You inquired gravelly, noticing that the boy was all but missing. You back stepped out of your bathroom and squeezed past Lest at the door, who seemed to insist on keeping herself planted to where she was standing. You trod through your open office, or living room, kitchen, whatever you had resided in calling your pitiful two room apartment. 

“I sent him home, what do you think?” Lest remarked with a short waver in her voice, a subtle sneer pinching back her nose that you didn’t need to look back at to visualize. “I’m not his keeper.”

“That’s fair.” You hum absentmindedly. You approached the squarish low cardboard box by the doormat, your footsteps dancing between the juts of sunlight cutting past the checkrails of the kitchen window. “That’s really sweet of you to have me bailed out. Looking for me in a Pitlie police station, no less.” You tagged on with a croak of sarcasm.

“I would have just asked you through the bars, detective.”

“Asked me what?” You bent down and spun the box over. Completely bare, only held shut by a loose line of duct tape. You punched into the sides of the box to loosen the tape to open it up, glancing at Lest still in the slanted disapproving lean she had given when she opened your door. You gave her an earnest, but obviously confused grin. You genuinely had no idea why she had stopped by. You must have drank heavily before, because the last thing you could recall was wading through a river of garbage in the sump and some vague memory of wriggling down a vent like a sewer rat.

“For an update, I thought you were following up on a lead?”

“Right.” You hummed once more. You opened the box up slowly, looking into the space to find a pile of folded, albeit second-hand looking, clothes. A little note sat on top of the top stack of shirts, a brief thank you letter from your landlord for the advance on rent. The glad, almost proud feeling rising in you could not be underestimated. This was like the equivalent of finding out you had inherited a lot of money from a dead relative you never knew, or finding some priceless thing sitting in a drainpipe. As you marveled at your new gift, you glanced up to see your employer still awaiting your response. “I don’t do business this early, miss.”

“I paid you a commission, you do business whenever I need it done.”

“You came into my house.” You reminded her as you squatted down and picked up the hefty box. “That’s like if I had a lead, and I just walked into your hotel room while you were still sleeping and started making a report.” You squeezed past Lest in the doorway again, back into your room. You let the box fall from your arms and land with a muffled thud on your mattress. 

“I wouldn’t be sleeping past midday.” She turned her nose up at you as you walked by. 

Despite her little sneers and the wrinkling of her short nose at your lifestyle, your boss didn’t seem like the snooty kind, the opposite in fact. A real woman of the people, hiding in plain sight like those with the moxie for it ought to. Yet she did have a bad habit of talking down to you, not in a demeaning way. But one that showed that it had been quite a long time since she had spoken with someone in the same class bracket as her. If she had collected this ever-relevant list of wealthy clients for this long, your suspicion would be that she mostly works in Piltover. Not only did she work in Piltover, but she also walked through it freely. That means she fit in with Piltover’s society, a necessity perhaps, but one that seemed to subtly leave its mark. It explained her emphasis on privacy, all the little shortcuts she knew, her obtuse but cutting taste for attire. How she treats you like an equal but speaks to you with strange reluctance. It was kind of like putting on a costume, but eventually forgetting you were wearing one. And soon enough, the costume becomes just clothes.

“I’m a detective, not a soldier. Just give me a minute.” You objected honestly as you took some of the second hand clothes from the box and tucked them under your arm. Lest held the impatient furrow in her brow, yet her eyes flicked to the side briefly. “Go find something to eat, go sit down. Go read, or turn on the radio. Occupy yourself, it’s a nice day out.”

“You missed most of it.” Lest muttered under her breath as you closed the door to your bathroom. Even after you had run the water in the shower, you could still hear her outside the door. Pacing around the living room in a soft, troubled tempo. 

As you took off your shirt, you couldn’t help but notice that there was some marking on your wrist. You turned your hand around, your eyes trailing along a message in marker that ran up your forearm before seeming to wind around your back. “Hey, you got a pen and paper?” You called out to Lest through the door. 

“What? No?”

“Look in my desk. I’m about to read out the results of that lead I followed last night.” Your eyes flicked back and forth through the words sprawling up your arm.

There was a short pause in the pacing you could hear before, then the scoot of your desk’s drawer being opened. “Okay?”

“Meet me at the corner of East Side commons and …” You read aloud slowly. You paused as the words spiraled under your arm and around to your back as they went. You turned around and began trying to read the reversed message in the mirror from over your shoulder. “Glass st-reet. Al-cobe di-district.”

“Is your liver finally failing?”

“Shut up, it’s backwards.” You called back as you tried to read faster than the mirror could fog.

“What is? What are you reading?”

“Just keep writing!” You cleared your throat and continued to read. “Nine tonight. Dash, Ronk.”

“What’s a ‘Ronk’ and why does it sound filthy?”

“Ronk is a jobless vagrant I met in a dive bar last night.” You jokingly boasted. 

That’s right, Ronk. Now, it was starting to come back to you. You had lost your lead, and you went to that stupid place and almost got your head kicked in by two junkies. 

You finished undressing and tried to spend the least amount of time under the water because of the present company. Little vague snippets of what you could recall from last night ran through your fingers as fluidly as the water. The sump. The factory. The vents. And the sound of that gun firing. You could still taste the metallic tinge on your gums as you thought about what you witnessed. Your movement slowed to a crawl as you lingered on the image, the scene replaying back and forth like a scarred record. The pipes groaned through the thin wall as it continued to push water out of the showerhead, bringing you back to your senses. The water washed away the repeating thought along with the marker on your skin. 

You turned the valve off and stepped out, taking a long while to dry and dress as you kept trying to pull up more memories of last night. It was like some kind of uncomfortable slideshow, no wonder you ended up drinking so much. You changed into your not-so-newer clothes, an unlikely gift from a landlord you were assuming hated you. Dark and faded but new-ish slacks, a blue button-down that was one size too big for you. Old wool socks that had most of its holes patched. To someone across the river, they wouldn’t even donate this stuff. But to you? It was quite literally the one thing you needed. You gathered your old clothes and tossed them in one big ball at your suitcase still hanging open by your bed, scooping up your jacket as you passed by.

“Are a fifth of whiskey and a single tomato the only things you have in your house that’s food grade?” Lest asked when you caught her looking into your refrigerator as you rounded the corner. She batted the door with her hand inattentively, swinging it back and forth in small movements before closing it shut with a single push.

“No way, there’s whiskey in there?” You quipped as you brushed past her. You put on your jacket, then took a leaning sit against the doors of your lower kitchen cupboards. 

“When was the last time you bought groceries?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged sheepishly. “I’m more of a buy by the meal kind of person, I guess.”

“When was the last time you ate, then?”

You hummed in thought, though you only were dragging the answer to her question. “Last tuesday, I think? Probably then.”

“And you’ve been surviving off what? Bar peanuts and grain alcohol?”

“And these little cracker things that I’m given at the stalls up the road.” You articulated, drawing a little square in the air. “I don’t know what they make them out of but they’re saltier than a mineral lick-” Your humor deflated when you looked back to Lest’s unamused stare. “What can I get for you, miss?”

“Results.” She batted her eyes once, awaiting a real answer. It made sense, the switch up. You rushed her for money, now she rushed you for results. Cash didn’t buy time, it shortened it. It was the mitigation of society, and its erosion. It was all that you needed. So you could swallow the bitter pill of grovelling after another paper trail. Maybe all it took to convince you was a pretty face and a cigarette shared.

“Listen.” You exhaled a very audible and lengthy sigh. You mulled over how to break what happened to Aquil to her. You weren’t sure just how invested she was in this guy. Was he just a client? Were they friends, then would she be friends with someone like him? Did she know him well, or not at all? More so? You shook yourself out of that kind of thinking, it felt wrong to theorize about someone like that. “I don’t think that guy is going to be a recurring client anymore.”

“What did you do to him?” Lest asked sternly, bowing her head slightly and looking up at you past the black end of her nose. You were used to the inconsequential disappointment she had shown you so far, but this was different. This was like staring down a wild cougar, and you weren’t sure whether to talk, or run.

“I didn’t do anything at all to him.” You threw your open hands up concedingly. You stared at her silently, the words you wanted to say catching on your lips as you slowly lowered your posture. You weren’t good with things like this. You barely could handle breaking bad news to people, and this was beyond that scope. “He-” You paused. “He’s dead, miss.”

“Oh.” Lest stated plainly. It was like watching a tire deflate in slow motion. The tenseness in her expression slowly faded bit by bit, her body language laxing until she too took a sitting lean against your kitchen cabinet. Mirroring you in a way, adjacent in front of you. You read her eyes, her silent language, the way she held her elbow with one hand while the other put a thumb to her lips. There was regret stirring in her, sure, but not grief. Her stare at the ground held dejection, but also thorough thought. 

“Did you know him at all? Know well, I mean.” You inquired hesitantly. 

“Aquil? No.” She shook her head softly. “I mean, in a way. We were from the same neighborhood, but it wasn’t like I knew him back then.”

“Back then?” You asked. You retrieved a half-crumpled pack of cigarettes from your pocket, a leftover from the previous night. You took a second to find the least creased one, then offered it to Lest.

“You have to be from Zaun to really understand. It’s an old country without a new one. Things felt and looked a lot different when I was a child. The sump used to be a real community, it had to be. We were packed down there like sardines in a can. Slums, sure. Poor, sure. But a bond? That’s all we had.” Lest simpered with a half-feigned smile. “It’s always so strange to hear about someone, who grew up a block away from you, dying. You hear that kind of news from now and then, but the feeling doesn’t really change.” Lest took the cigarette gracefully, lighting it with her classic scratch lighter. “How did it happen?”

“The people he was meeting up with decided that he was a loose end, I guess.” You paused, bowing your head into her peripheral. “Can I get you water? I don’t have any food, but there's stalls up the road, like I mentioned before.”

“No, no water. It just makes me thirsty.”

“How’s that?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Lest flicked her cigarette with her thumb by the filter, ashing it onto your floor without thinking. “Why did they do that? What happened to Aquil, I mean.”

“I think he figured out too much for his own good.” You shrugged. “He learned one too many names, and that meant he had to go.”

“Names. Whose name?”

“I’m not sure, someone I’ve never heard of before. He just mentioned a person called Lenare. And then what happened, happened. Do you know it?”

“Lenare…” Lest hummed in thought, then took a drag of the cigarette. “No, not really. Lenare.” Lest paused, her eyes reading the space in front of her, then flicking back to you. “It sounds a bit rich to be from around here, don’t you think?”

“Rich, sure.” You nodded. “But Piltover rich? No.”

“Did they mention anyone else?” Lest took another drag of the cigarette. “Anything else that could have given you an idea of where they came from?” She exhaled the smoke with her words in one breath.

“I mean-” You paused. You already followed up the lead about the bar, there was no point bringing it up. You didn’t really want to gloat that you got into a fist fight over a drink the previous night, though she seemed to already figure that out on her own. “One of them mentioned prying the other off a black cat. The bar I went to last night was the only black cat I know, and they weren’t anywhere to be found.”

“Huh.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Did they say ‘the’ black cat? Or ‘a’ black cat?” Lest hummed in thought.

“I don’t think it makes any difference.” You shrugged. The question was rather semantic. The men could have said it any kind of way, it didn’t really change all too much. Besides, your memory of it was still in a blur.

“It makes a world of difference, detective.” Lest pulled her stare from a thousand yards, planting it on you as you made eye contact with her. “Did they say ‘a’ black cat, or ‘the’ black cat?” She asked again firmly before flicking her cigarette once more.

“They just said black cat, I think.” You murmured. “Like I said, the only black cat I know was a dive bar in the lanes.”

“Black cat isn't the name of a place.” Lest paused. “It’s the name of a person.”

The icy wind blowing off the eastern seaboard tended to be cut down by the aggregate of taller buildings in South Piltover. Though it was across the bridge from the triumph of the Piltover of the new age, the South district retained a modicum of its splendor in relative safety. Low, paved streets towered over by stone city dwellings, tight packed offices, lackluster institutions, commerce halls, and expensive skinny townhouses. A wave of neo-classical mixing into a newly emerging art deco design of architecture.

Your heavy work boots clacked against the smooth pavement of the lower city’s sidewalks in a tandem temp with your boss’ light step. You kept your hands stuffed into your jacket pockets in your usual manner as you walked, keeping yourself alongside Lest as both of you knew where you were headed. You had been distracted from your thorough conversation for a moment as you absently looked over your shoulder to make sure there wasn’t anybody trailing behind you two. Not that you’d need any reason to think so, but you can never afford to not be too careful until you’re over the river and bridge. And you never cross that bridge, not ever.

“Besides the point, I think it was a conservatory before that techno-whose-it church bought the building. Never been in it myself, but at least they kept the greenhouses intact. It’s the only pretty thing about the place anymore.” Lest commented, finishing an answer to your question about a building you had passed only a block away. 

The building had been taken over by a sect of the church of the Gray Lady, some technology cult that helped the down-and-outs of the fissures. Nowadays, the place had been boarded up and kept a shut up secret behind a terrifically tall iron barred fence. Some even wonder if anybody even occupied the place, or if it was simply bought and left alone once more.

“Come again?” You asked, turning back from looking over your shoulder.

“Are you religious at all, detective?” Lest asked as she kept pace alongside you. It was more like you were trying to keep up with her, the way she’d walk.

“Me?” You chuckled. “I mean- I’m not a believer in anything.” You paused. “But I’m also not a non-believer, you know? There’s enough mythos to go around in the world, anything could really catch me. I guess I just haven’t been given the opportunity for it. The only god here in Piltover and Zaun is progress, I suppose.”

“It’s all relative, you’re right. Just happenstance.” Lest shrugged. “People here in Zaun aren’t really given that opportunity.”

“What about you?” You asked sheepishly. “I thought the Vastaya were supposed to be descended from the Arcana? Isn’t that all second nature to you?”

“I thought Humans descended from the apes? Why aren’t you all swinging from branches and flinging your excrement at each other? Isn’t that your second nature as well?” Lest retorted with a snort as she walked. She glanced at you, a look that you knew all too well by now. It was time to pay the cigarette tax. “Things change, detective. Like I said, it’s all happenstance. Did you know, in Stonewall, they worship goats? Just because they give the people milk.”

“It’s all harmless, though.” You chuckled. You took your creased pack of cigarettes from your coat pocket and tried to find the second best from the one you had offered her earlier in your apartment. “Everyone needs hope, you know?”

“That’s the irony of it, though.” Lest remarked as she took the cigarette you passed her. “People look for hope anywhere, but never in themselves. It’s like a disease that makes you blind to it.”

“Okay, hold the line.” You shook your head as you came to a sudden pause on the pavement. This whole analytical game Lest liked to play was beginning to wrack your nerves, it was pedantic. Lest came to a stop as well, turning to you as she lit the cigarette. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“This whole psychological semantic philosophy. That people are categorized and hope is a disease. It’s an old act, Lest.”

“I’m supposed to be playing an act, now?” Lest raised an eyebrow.

“This whole jaded mystique and smoke stained glamour.” You paused, gesturing to Lest’s whole self. “And what’s with this cardinal press girl look?”

“What’s with your washed-out sleuth getup, hm?” She flashed you a smirk. “I wasn’t informed that part of your contract entailed a critique of my person, detective.” Lest continued walking ahead of you, disregarding whether you were following her or not. 

“I’m just trying to get you to lighten up a little.” You huffed as you jogged to catch up with her now fast stride. “I’d appreciate it if you’d just take some time to talk to me normally.”

“Lighten up.” Lest snorted at the comment. “Or is it that you just want to pick my brain? Oh so badly, detective.” 

The both of you rounded the next corner at a junction in the street. You glanced at the street sign sticking out from its post, the name reading Drop Street. The turn at the corner opened up the view of the descender stations. They were little metal shacks, of sorts, sticking out of the ground by the sidewalk like covered entrances to a subway. They were solid in structure, kept together as one giant unanimous welded piece. Two wide entrances stood opposite from one another, kept open by a folding grate fence. A large solid metal beam bridged the gap between the tall rooftops of the buildings lining the wide road. Huge winch systems hung from two points on either side of the beam, the wire being held back by metallic struts as they latched onto both of the descenders adjacently. 

Lest stepped into the unclean cabin of the left descender first, as she had still insisted on walking just a tad bit faster than you. You stepped in second, your eyes kept glued to where you placed your foot. The descenders were held up by only the wire, and if they weren’t there then it’d just be a stark hole in the ground. As you stepped onto the carriage, you watched it wobble and reveal a peak of the dark descent into the earth when the metal flooring moved away from the ledge.

You hated heights. It wasn’t falling that scared you, it was the height itself. You couldn’t explain it well, not even to yourself. You kept a cool composure despite the glimpse of how far the tunnels really went. To your right when you stepped in, a large lever stuck out of the metal flooring. It was elongated with a squeeze trigger, sticking out from a wide semicircle cap that had been painted with black marks. Single tallies, three in all. First was for the Promenade, second for Entresol, third for the top levels of the Sump. As you knew far too well, the only way to get to the bottom was to go by foot. You squeezed the handle onto the lever, pulling it back until it reached the second mark. The winches hanging above you began to whirr, their motors jumping to life after being given a command. After a short moment, the wire fences folded back out and the cabin shrugged, then began to slowly descend into the hole.

You and your employer found yourselves engulfed in darkness once the cabin had fully descended through its slot, moving through the hole burrowed through the earth. You looked for her in the dark, trying to catch the glow of her cigarette that seemed to have gone out. It was just the wall of darkness in front of you, the twitching pings of the taught cables, and the hollow hushed flow of wind flowing through the tunnel. The scratch of zinc on flint startled you a bit as a small flame emerged from Lest’s lighter. She brought it up to relight her cigarette between her lips, the flame illuminating a portion of her deadpan face. The light glared off her eyes, turning them into wide saucers of yellow before the flame went out and the darkness returned once more.

The descender lowered through its exit in the earth, bringing light from the Promenade level as the cabin descended over the boundary markets in full rush hour. You quickly averted your eyes to look at anything else before Lest noticed that you had been trying to stare at her the whole time. You looked out at the boundary markets through the metal grating. Merchants running their stalls that were hobbled together by rotted wood, bent nails and tattered tarps, all in rows numbering by the dozen. You saw the common man, the vagrants and the people just trying to get by. Scavengers with wheelbarrows full of junk, and urchins running about begging for money that nobody had to spare. You watched a line of people, which winded all the way to the end of the market boundary and disappeared behind the side of a tall brutalist structure, a cathedral of sorts. The line moved forward body by body, each person waiting to buy what measly foodstuffs they could afford.

People were hungry. This whole damn city was hungry. You were hungry. You forgot about food for so long, remembering it made your stomach churn. “Give me a hit of that.” You muttered to Lest as you turned back and extended your arm.

Lest gave you a confused, yet curious look, a flare of her amber eyes. One that told you to get your own, but with an air of sympathy as she read your tense expression. She passed you the cigarette reluctantly, and you took a heavy drag. “Sometimes I wonder if you can handle ideas that go beyond what you’re going to wear, or eat for lunch.” Lest muttered, finally commenting on your conversation from before.

“I don’t eat lunch, remember?” You faked a chuckle, then took another heavy drag and passed it back. “Have you ever been hungry, miss?”

“We all have.” Lest shrugged.

“No, I mean real hunger. The kind of feeling that makes you want to eat a handful of dirt, or bark off a tree. The kind of hunger that makes you shake. The kind that makes you stop being hungry if you ignore it for long enough.”

There was a long pause between you two. The only company in the way of sound being the murmur of the busy streets below and the creaking. Lest didn’t look at you, keeping her eyes to her cigarette as she moved it around between her fingers. She took a final drag of it, put it out on the metal, then pushed it through the hole in the grate. “Like I said, detective.” She glanced at you, then back to the grate where her stare remained. “There’s things that you’d never guess in your wildest dreams.”

The descender reached the bottom of the Promenade level and cut through the earth once more, travelling deeper into the Entresol and returning the cabin to the pitch darkness of before. The darkness returned with the silence between you two. That invisible wall felt like it was being built back up brick by brick. What felt like an eternity passed, just the two of you and the darkness. The cabin emerged from its second pass through the earth, coming out into the light of the second level of the city. The cabin came to a slow, agonizing stop before a raised platform constructed from rebar, old pipes, and corrugated tin sheeting. A grand stand of rust, elevated to allow people to step down into the portion of the Entresol.

You looked out through the thin slits of the gates as they folded back in on themselves with sluggish struggle. The station was in the back end of one of the largest housing projects above the Sump. A shanty town of scrap shacks and hobbled-together structures, packed so tightly within the small space that one would forget that they were in the lanes at all. It was called Drop Street after the one above ground, but local residents had given it a new colloquial name. Alley of alleys, as the only thing that divided the labyrinthian maze of favelas was a single wide lane that split the wall of residencies like a straight, unmoving river.

You peered down the narrow lane, the ending to which seemed to fade into a dark endlessness as the district had barely enough power to spare for lighting the way. It was just a lane of shack houses stacked upon one another, reaching high up and beyond where you could see the end of it. The only main source of light was a harsh mining lamp that hung from a post by the platform, lighting just that portion of the alley in a warm but uncomforting orange glow. The alley split off into separate offshoots, each giving the Alley of alleys its name. In a way, it was like the mine shafts that the people of the Fissures had toiled in a long while ago. It was an ironic mirroring of their serfdom, like the people hadn’t known how else to build a town. Or, they simply couldn’t. And yet nobody walked the street, not a soul. It was like they were ashamed to be seen here.

You glanced back to Lest, who had already strode forward once the gates had retracted. She descended down the staircase of rusted sheet metal that led up to the platform, taking one careful step at a time until she was on solid ground. You half expected her to glance back to you in return, to wait for you to follow. Yet she continued walking as if you weren’t there at all. You got the queue to catch up, and you descended the stairs with a hurry, your work boots stomping the loose metal as you descended. 

“I’ve got to ask.” You spoke up, finally catching up to your employer and keeping pace besides her as the both of you took a cautious stroll through the wide lane. “Whoever those guys mentioned, surely they’re not down here. I mean-” You paused, glancing down the offshooting alleys as you passed them one by one. Each lane was labeled with a name embroidered onto sheets of scrappy metal and pinned to the sides of the shanty walls, the only identifier to separate the rows. Waterhall, Captooth, Stormway, Emberfit, Dogheal. All of them sounded much more interesting than they looked, as every glance you gave to each of them held a sadder and more depressing sight than the last. “I don’t think anybody’s down here that wants to be seen.”

“Maybe you’re the one that doesn’t want to be seen down here, detective.” Lest hummed as she walked. She didn’t seem bothered at all by the surroundings, like she’s seen it all before, and worse. “It must be so convenient living up top. I’m sure one forgets places like this exist, once they’re out of sight and mind.”

“It’s not like that.” You muttered. She was talking to you like you lived across the river. Things may be bad down here, but they certainly weren’t perfect around where you lived. You followed Lest as she turned down one of the alleys, one marked with the name Epswell. This lane was as dark as the last, so thin you could barely walk down it. You felt like you were going to bang your shoulders against the scrap walls with every step. You passed door after door after door, like you were wading through and endless purgatory of locked doors and glimpses into impoverished lives through holes in the tin sheets or rifts in walls.

You kept your attention to your boss who walked in front of you. This wasn’t your home, and it wasn’t your business. You were here to follow a paper trail and follow it you would. All the way up to a single door, painted with chipped blood red. A tiny triangular sign dangled from a post above the frame, spelling out the title ‘Madame Blance’s’ in a yellowish glow in the dark paint.

“I know this place.” You hummed, looking up to the sign as Lest finally turned back to you and awaited on the other side of the frame with crossed arms. “I’ve heard of it- I mean.” Madam Blanche’s was almost mythical sounding in the mentions of it you’ve overheard at bars or on the street. It was cheap, it was always open, it was hard and yet so easy to find. It was a brothel. “Why here? It’s not my birthday, you know” You tried to joke to lighten the mood.

“You want to know who Black Cat is?” She crooked her eyebrow, then nodded to the door. She seemed more impatient with you than usual, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the scathing critique you gave her earlier, or if it was because she realized you didn’t belong down here. “You’re just going to have to be brave and head inside.”

“No objections from me, boss” You shrugged, looking back up to the sign again. “How do you know this place?” You snorted. “What, did you hang around here before you picked up painting?”

“Oh, you’re a real comedian, aren’t you?” Lest croaked with a clenched jaw, the feline irked squint in her eye giving you the impression that you should probably stop being a smart ass.

“Right. Right.” You yielded, taking a small step back. “You want to find our lead at the bottom of a whorehouse?” You reached forward and grabbed the knob of the red door. As you turned it, the handle felt so loose you could have pulled it off if you gripped too hard. You pulled the door open towards you, and held it for her. “You lead the way, then.”

𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 Taglist: @6selkie @madschiavelique @roku907

[butler-trouble]

The Notebook - Austin Butler

Comment here to be added to the tag list

A/N: I know it’s been a while but I’m back! This is an idea that I’ve been thinking about for months so please enjoy! I know it’s very short but I have more ideas coming. I am so thankful for all of you and the love you guys show me! Once again, requests are always open on my page!

Rating: Anyone, only tooth rotting fluff

Warning(s): Super cute and fluffy, Austin being a cutie, reenactment of the notebook’s Ferris wheel scene

Prompt: After a long day of work on set, you find yourself on the ferris wheel awaiting for Austin to finish. When he comes back, Austin has a trick up his sleeve and re-enacts The Notebook ferris wheel scene.

Word Count: 1,097 - just a short little blurb

Tag list: @otherbluefae @shynovelist @kaitaesupremacy @kendralavon7

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•

"Aaaand cut!” Baz exclaimed.

Tom and Austin relaxed in their seats on the ferris wheel, awaiting further instructions from Baz. They had been shooting the carnival scenes for a few days and today was the final wrap with the ferris wheel scene.

Austin leaned back against the seat and spoke with Tom for a moment, his eyes catching yours amongst the camera crew. Your lips spread into a smile as your cheeks begin to flush pink, causing a crooked smile to appear on Austin’s lips.

You had been with Austin for almost two years and you two have been almost inseparable since. When the Elvis movie first came to fruition, you managed to get a job as part of the camera crew. As a camerawoman, you got to enjoy each scene and make sure Baz’s vision comes to fruition. It also helped that you got to see your handsome boyfriend everyday and in Elvis attire nonetheless.

“I think we’ve got everything we need for the day. Let’s meet back up here at 7 am and pick back up at this scene.” Baz said in satisfaction, dismissing all for the night.

Once Tom and Austin were lowered from the ferris wheel, Austin made his way towards you in anticipation. You had started shutting down the camera equipment as he came close.

“Hey, Aus,” You said sweetly as he approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist as your arms find their way around his neck.

“Hey, darlin’,” Austin said with that southern twang he had been studying for a while now. You let out a small giggle before placing a soft kiss on his lips, a low hun from Austin vibrating against your lips.

“I’ve been waiting all day for that,” He said with a cheesy smile, causing another giggle to rise from you. “You’re making me blush,” You whine softly as your cheeks began to turn a dark shade of pink. He pressed kisses against your heated cheeks, pulling away to look into your eyes.

“I’m gonna go get changed and out of makeup, I’ll be back in a bit and we can head out,” You nodded at his words, pecking his lips once more before he disappeared to his dressing room. You spun around back towards the equipment, ensuring the equipment is ready for filming the next day.

People began to clear from the room, leaving you alone in the carnival set to wait for Austin. After looking around to ensure you’re alone, you step towards the scene and admire the work put into it. All the lights, the banners, the fake stalls, it all looked so beautiful.

As you approach the ferris wheel, Austin walked back towards the set in his casual clothing. In your admiration, you didn’t hear him walking towards you as you sat down onto the ferris wheel seat closest to the ground.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Austin asked, inching closer towards you. Your eyes snap towards his direction as you finally recognize his presence. “Hm?” You hummed as you cross your legs out of habit.

A grin slowly appeared from the corners of Austin’s plump lips, an idea forming in his mind. Instead of answering, he stepped towards the controls and pushed the button to start the ferris wheel.

In surprise, your eyes widen for a moment but you began to smile as you began to elevate into the air. Austin began running towards the ferris wheel, gripping his large hands onto the metal bars as he dangled from them. You let out a soft gasp before realizing what he was doing.

Austin pulled himself up into the seat, looking over at you with a wide grin. “I’m Austin, Austin Butler. It’s really nice to meet you,” He stuck his hand out, imitating Noah from The Notebook. You couldn’t help the grin that plastered onto your face, given that The Notebook is your favorite romance movie ever.

“I would really like to take you out,” He continued as the ferris wheel stopped close to the top, something they had programmed for the set. Following the scene, you don’t respond and just look into his eyes.

Before you know it, Austin jumps from his seat and grabs onto the pole above your head. He gripped the pole tightly as his legs dangle in the air, facing you. “Y/N will you go out with me?” He asked once more.

“What? No!” You respond as Allie would, the grin never escaping your lips. “Why not?” He asked, his grip remaining tight on the pole as he held himself up. His crystal blue eyes were focused on you in the seat.

“Because I don’t want to,” You respond in Allie’s stubborn tone, pretending to be shocked by his actions.

“Well, you leave me no other choice then,” He trailed off, his eyes flickering from you to the ground and back to you. In a moment, Austin drops one of his arms resulting in a small scream from you. He dangled from one arm, trying to fight the grin from appearing on his face as he looked into your eyes again.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time…” He trailed off, “Will you, or will you not, go out with me?” He started. “Goddamn my hand’s slippin’,” He stated, perfectly aligned to Noah as he pretends to slip.

You act in shock, flustered from such an act. “Okay, okay fine I’ll go out with you,” You reconcile, pretending like you don’t want to.

“Aw now don’t do me any favors,” He teases.

“No, no, I want to! Yes!” You exclaim back to him.

“Say it.” Austin instructed, his eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes. “I want to go out with you.” You say unenthusiastically.

“Say it again,” He said teasingly, continuing to dangle from the pole. “I want to go out with you!” You exclaim. A grin breaks out onto his face as he puts both palms back onto the pole, “Alright, alright, I’ll go out with you.” He finished, staring into your eyes for a moment. You let out a soft laugh as swung off the pole and into the seat beside you.

“I love you,” You whispered to him, his arm rested behind you as he leaned towards your face. The heat from his skin radiated onto yours, causing you to pull closer to him. “and I love you,” Austin responded happily before closing the gap, pressing his lips softly against yours. As if on cue, the ferris wheel began to rotate again but you never wanted the ferris wheel to reach the bottom.

[blue-razzslushie]

My Hogwarts Legacy AU: Part 2, Sebastian Sallow

Soooo y'all already know I made a vote thing, and the goal was to figure out who to start off with to further go. . . Into depth about their relationship with my MC, Rory. Unfortunately for me, Y'all made it a tie between Sebastian and Ominis (thanks A LOT GUYS 😔). So I spun a wheel and Sebastian won, So I'll start off with him 💥

First Impression:

Sebastian:

☆First thought? He thought they looked like someone he would want to be in cahoots with.

☆That Scar on their face? Bloody Brilliant!!

☆They even managed to best him in a duel as a first timer! Color him impressed!

☆Maybe they might be the perfect person for a rather disclosed Dueling accosiation if ya know ya know. . .

Rory:

☆LowKey wasn't a big fan of him first time round, too cocky for their taste

☆It honestly felt good to take him down a peg in dueling

☆Being invited to a secret dueling accosiation wasn't expected but, They do like the adrenaline when dueling. . .perhaps they'll give it a shot

Overall Dynamic/Relationship:

☆They give Hermione and Harry ngl, Smart and Smartass.

☆Rory would def be less friendly/trustful with Seb then someone like Natty. As much as they appreciate the things he's done, he isn't exactly what they would call immediately trustworthy. Takes longer then the other cast to gain their trust

☆Sebastian (in my au) also doesn't seem to know when to quit. Pushing Rory's buttons to get a reaction which can lead from a smack on the back of the head, or maybe his hair or school robes catching aflame

☆Despite their clear misunderstandings, and ups and downs, they are good friends. What can you say, Beating up Goblins and discovering the mysteries of a Tryptic can do that to people. They would do that comical thing where they argue while fighting back to back or something 😭

In the Shadow Questline:

☆I am way to lazy to explain every aspect of the whole dart arts Sebastian Questline thing, so I'm keeping it to the main points

☆During the whole Scriptorium quest, Rory did learn Crucio. At the time, they thought it was logical to learn it, giving their. . .current situation. However, they allowed Sebastian to cast the curse on them.

☆But besides Crucio, Rory was againdt learning the other curses.

☆Rory would definitely be more adamant and pushy with Sebastian to listen to them and Ominis then the way they speak in game. I always found it odd how the MC doesn't explain the deal they made with Ominis when finding the relic

☆Rory would 100% be like. "After this no more, or i will SMITE YOU."

☆just like in game, Sebastian doesn't listen. Yada yada bushit he ends up killing his Uncle, now here's where it gets juicy!

☆Despite growing a emotional bond with Sebastian, Rory thought the right thing to do was to tell the headmaster about what happened. They tried to stop him, even if they didn't like his Uncle in the slightest, he didn't deserve death

☆However, (in my AU) Ominis was the one to persuade Rory against it. Saying Anne should make that decision, after a bit Rory agreed. Doesn't mean they'll leave Seb without SOME kind of reproduction.

☆After that, Rory didn't speak to Seb that much. They were still kind of pissed at him for not listening like a MOONMIND.

☆It wasn't until they got a verbal apology that they sort of relented, promising that they are still pissed. And he did still have Hell to pay, but went back to speaking to him more again hooray!!

After Storyline/Future:

☆After the Battle of Hogwarts, Seb was. . .worried to say the least. One of his best friends was stuck in the hospital wing for a week for Merlin's sake!

☆As soon as student visitors were allowed in, he was one of the first to visit

☆Merlin they looked, sort of different. They always had that certain. . .spark in their eyes which could only be described as pure Perseverance and Determination. But that spark seemed to have dimmed a bit

☆They still acted like themself, making a snarky comment to him every so often. He stayed and got informed about what happened below the school, what happened to Fig. He ofc vowed to be there if they needed it

☆Once they were out of the hospital wing, he tried his best to push their buttons less. They had clearly been through enough already

[tact-and-impulse]

Narumayo Zine 2024

Thanks @narumayo-zine for another fun and successful event! My fic's also on the AO3 collection. Everyone's amazing work can be found here!

A Cute Voice

Phoenix stamped the snow off his shoes. The wreaths on the lobby’s walls were a duller green, a few decorative pinecones had fallen on the linoleum. Holiday cheer had given way to a regular morning at work, back to business as usual. He checked the Wright & Co. mailbox, grabbed the stack of envelopes, and headed to the upper floor.

Hm? It’s not totally quiet. Music blared from behind the door, and a muffled voice joined in.

“Go, go! Steel Samurai…”

It sounded like Maya, especially because of the theme song, although he’d never heard her sing before. Curious, he turned the door handle as quietly as possible. The office was much tidier, the desk and table cleared of stray papers. But his attention landed on Maya, pulling up the blinds with her back to him.

“That brave hero will save the town, fly high!” A clear, sweet soprano left her lips. Effortlessly, she reached the high note, perfectly on pitch. She spun around and froze. “Ack, Nick! Uh, hi?”

“Hey, Maya. Having fun?”

She blushed, scrambling to turn off the music. “I came early to help clean, I thought you’d be here later.”

“Early bird catches the worm. Anyway, you don’t have to stop. You sing really well.” He insisted.

She let out a nervous laugh. “Oh, I don’t know. Aunt Morgan once heard me trying a lullaby on Pearl when she was a baby, and she told me to never do it again, so…”

A spark of righteous fury flared within Phoenix. “That’s-”

“New year, new stuff, right? What have you got there?” She dove for the mail, and then, they were occupied with sorting through the requests.

One potential client was at a ski lodge, and when Pearl returned from Medium Valley, they decided to make it a weekend trip. Of course, they were inevitably stuck in traffic. As Phoenix tapped the rental car’s steering wheel, Maya punched the radio button. A pop song poured through the speakers and from the backseat, Pearl screamed in delight, adding her own slightly off-key but animated enthusiasm.

Maya turned to grin at her. “You like this band, don’t you, Pearly?”

“I really do! Mystic Maya, won’t you sing along?”

“It’s okay, I don’t know all the lyrics.”

She pouted. “What about you, Mr. Nick?”

“Same here. But I’ll try if there’s something I’ve heard before.” And as if on cue, the next song was familiar. Just his luck. He could carry a tune, he wasn’t going to win any awards though. He sang the chorus and the bridge, glancing at Maya. She was smiling wide, her eyes lit up like shooting stars.

“Wow, you’re awesome.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.”

“Totally serious, Nick!”

“Well, you can take a turn. You’re probably better than us and we won’t judge you at all.” He said, holding her gaze. Her lips trembled.

“What if you both sing a duet?!” Pearl exclaimed. “That would be so romantic-”

Then, the cars ahead moved, and the rest of the drive smoothly sent Pearl into a nap. Dense trees lined the road, glittering with salt, and signposts pointed to the main resort. In a promising sight, snowy slopes emerged from cloud cover, tiny dots of skiers creating downward trails. Phoenix spoke first.

“I’m sorry, Maya, I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“You weren’t!” She countered. “It’s only…I don’t know. I guess I’m nervous?”

“That’s alright. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be cheering you on.”

“…Thank you.” Her soft whisper rose and fell, a caress sliding around his neck.

Within minutes, they rolled into the parking lot. Maya tumbled out, her face flushed as she coaxed Pearl to wake up. It had to be the brisk wind. Nevertheless, the cold wasn’t quite touching Phoenix, his ears still hot.

***

Cards flipped, fabric rustled, applause resounded again and again. Trucy had pleaded to attend this magic convention, and by her unwavering expression of wonder, Phoenix didn’t regret it. She watched the other magicians with rapt attention, happily relaying to him what she learned. While she practiced some new maneuvers with Mr. Hat, he went to grab drinks. Apple juice for her, cider for him.

As he picked up the glasses, murmurs rippled from the entrance. Some rich patroness, apparently. However, his breath caught at the figure assisting the newcomer. Long dark hair, cascading over purple robes. A touch of mascara and lip gloss, highlighting more mature features.

Maya.

There had been furtive phone calls and tearstained letters, but this was the first time he’d seen her in person since his badge was taken. He almost wanted to hide. However, any escape was rendered impossible, when he found Trucy chatting with Pearl, who had a growth spurt. He felt Maya’s gaze on him, unable to meet hers, until the convention ended and the girls declared they wanted to get dinner together. So, they ended up at a ramen shop, receiving generous bowls. Trucy and Pearl held an excitable conversation, Maya offering small compliments about the food.

In the dark blue evening, they returned to the hotel. Phoenix carried Trucy, as he walked alongside Maya and a staggering Pearl. Their room was because of Maya’s employer, she explained, who liked the occult. It was certainly a far cry from the Wright Talent Agency; Pearl crashed onto a large silk-covered bed, while Maya insisted on giving them some of the goodies. He couldn’t bring himself to walk away. In his arms, Trucy stirred, her brows creasing in internal turmoil. Pearl rolled onto one side, then the other. Maya started to hum, that became a verse under her breath, in a low, soothing song. The girls grew calmer, and Phoenix felt like breathing was a little easier.

“This is my happiness, I want you to know. I’ll turn to the sky, and keep singing by the window.” She handed over the bag, with a brave smile. “Here you are, Nick.”

He managed to choke out. “Thank you, Maya. For this, and the singing.”

“Not a lot else to do under a waterfall, so vocal training must have paid off.” She deflected. “I’m getting stronger, so I can help you. Just…please, wait. You’ll have your badge back, I know you will.”

He could only nod and pull his beanie further down. More than ever, he wanted to believe in her words.

***

The thought didn’t occur to Phoenix until they were stateside again. Outside the airport, it was pitch black. Bleary-eyed with jet lag and adjusting his watch out of Khura’in time, he asked Maya. “Where are you staying?”

“I guess I can find a hotel room.” She yawned.

After everything that had happened? “Or, you can stay over with me.”

Her eyes widened.

He quickly corrected. “And Trucy! I think she invited Pearl too, I’ll call…” Embarrassed, he brought out his phone and let the girls know, who said they’d have hot drinks and their bedding ready.

“Separate rooms, Daddy?” Trucy innocently asked.

“Y-yes, of course!”

“Aw, okaaay. See you soon.”

As they waited for the cab, they sat in an empty area. Maya gave a bemused look at his suitcase but instead, she said. “You know, I don’t think I’ve said it enough times, but thank you, Nick.”

“I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. And now, you’re home again.”

“Yes, it’s so good to be back.” She ran her fingers through her sleek dark hair, closing one eye.

“If you want to rest, you can use my shoulder.”

“I’ll take you up on that.” And she promptly did.

Phoenix dropped his gaze; their hands were an inch apart, and carefully, his moved closer, just enough for the slightest touch. She shifted, but didn’t speak. Still, he recognized that she was awake. It just felt right to summon his voice, into a tune from one of his daughter’s shows. A closing, and an invitation to see another magic act soon.

And unexpectedly, Maya began to quietly sing. Low warm notes, climbing to that pure bright soprano. “Tides may ebb and flow, and the sun may rise and fall. Still, you’re with me through it all.”

He held his breath. He didn’t want to miss a single second.

“The shell you gave me sings a lullaby of the waves. It takes me back to that summer day.” She paused. “My mom and Mia used to sing this to me, but that’s all I remember of it.”

“It was wonderful.”

“Even in my exhausted state?”

“Not that I could tell. You’ve always had a cute voice.” He murmured.

Her hand bumped his, in protest. But she didn’t draw away. In the next instant, he captured her wrist, and she twisted around to intertwine their fingers. “Probably, no karaoke yet. At least, for now, I can sing just for you.”

He couldn’t resist smiling. “I’m glad.” And maybe, a little thrilled he was the sole exception. He did like her singing voice very much. The minutes stretched on, and he was on the verge of dozing off when his phone rang with the cab’s arrival. Their hands remained in place, as they wheeled their luggage through the airport. And they walked into the cool night, towards a well-deserved homecoming.

[animasola86]

Kinktober Plans!

Hello and welcome to October! Last year I only wrote a few kinky pieces (as I was just starting to get the hang of smut writing, mind you), and in the last twelve months I have written whole stories and various drabbles centered around numerous kinks, so I gotta admit that I don't really see the appeal of writing more of the same thing I already write during the whole year for this special month.

BUT

I had an idea. While I have a fixed plan for my stories, I sometimes struggle to come up with ideas for my smut drabbles. So I compiled a little list of kinks that I will put into a Picker Wheel and then combine it with a list or two of character dynamics/pairings/creatures, and if need be, because some kinks are a little vague, I will go to Kinkly.com to let them give me a random sex position (by using the Surprise Me button until I find one that's plausible).

And then I hope I'll get inspired and motivated enough to write a bunch of short little Kinktober drabbles for your enjoyment! (As you can tell I am prone to procrastinate a lot, seeing it's already October 1st, but, well, better late than never!)

Feel free to take my idea and make it your own, I know it's always helpful to have some prompts or a machine to choose something for you.

Happy Kinktober everyone!

(See below the lists of kinks and dynamics I put together!)

List of Kinks

(inspired by this prompt list from last year, compiled into active and passive acts, prompts, concepts and accessories, yes there are exactly 69 things on this list, can be combined) → Picker Wheel link

Fingering

Handjob

Face-Sitting

Cunnilingus

Blowjob

Deepthroating

69

Dry Humping

Titjob

Thighfucking

Mutual Masturbation

Masturbation

Anal Play (fingering, sex, etc)

Fisting

Teasing

Marking

Biting/Scratching

Double Penetration

Triple Penetration

Body Worship

Threesome

Group Sex (3+)

Random Sex Position

Dirty Talking

Sex Toys/Strap-on

Leash and Collar

Sex Pollen/Fuck or Die

Body Hair/Shaving

Prostitution/Camming/Sex-for-Service

Exhibitionism/Voyeurism

Pet Play

Lingerie

Uniform/Costume

Boot Worship

Spanking/Flogging/Whipping/Caning

Caging

Leather/Rubber/Latex

Guns/Knives

Wax Play

Glory Hole

Public

Cuckolding

Size Difference

Aphrodisiacs

Temperature Play

Bloodplay

Piercings/Tattoos

Breath Control

Overstimulation

Oviposition/Egglaying

Virginity

Sacrifice

Squirting/Cumshots

Somnophilia

Nonconsensual

Object Insertion

Crying/Dacryphilia

Orgasm Denial/Control

Abduction/Kidnapping

Anonymous Sex

Anal/Oral Training

Bondage/Restraints

Suspension Bondage

Blindfolds

Gags

Knotting

Breeding/Impregnation

Spiritual Possession

Coercion/Blackmail

List of creatures (Picker Wheel Link)

Vampires

Werewolves

Demons

Tentacles

Slime

Orcs

Ghosts/Spirits/Wraiths

Aliens

Hybrids

Robots

Monsters in general (any I didn't list)

List of character dynamics (Picker Wheel Link)

DDlg

Dom/sub

Master/slave

A/B/O

Older man/younger woman

Stepcest/Fauxcest

F/M

F/F

M/M

Multi

Soulmate

(Things may be added later, this may not be the final list! Also note that the things listed are things *I* feel comfortable with, feel free to add your own/make your own list!)

For example: I spun the Kink list three times and combined it with the other lists, and I got the following:

Pet Play, Group Sex (3+), Abduction/Kidnapping

Vampires

F/M

And now my brain is already thinking up scenarios... maybe yours is too?

Again, feel free to find your own Kinktober prompt using these lists and tools provided above! They can be combined however you desire! Happy kinking!

[charliegyrth]

Alex Gets Soft - Part 6

His First Weigh-In

Read Part 5 here.

I drove back home. Alex didn’t have the energy.

His pants were unbuttoned. His stomach was the roundest it had ever been. And every inch of him was wet and sticky. If I had seen any other man in that state, I probably would’ve been disgusted. Instead, I was counting down the minutes until we made it back home and I could take him straight into the shower.

“Wanna feel it?”

I gulped.

He pulled up his shirt, revealing the sharp arch of his stomach. His skin was stretched painfully tight.

Slowly, I pressed one hand against it, careful not to push down.

Solid, just like Alex wanted. As I struggled to pay attention to the road, I let my fingers explore his skin. There were alternating patches of stickiness (from the syrup) and slickness (from the gravy). My index spun a circle around his gaping belly button, causing him to purr.

The car drifted into the other lane, so I pulled my hand back to the wheel. I had to focus.

“I got dirty,” he said in a playful, childlike voice.

“I know.”

“I embarrassed you, didn’t I?”

“A little.”

“But that was part of the fun, wasn’t it?” He was playing with his belly, exploring it. “You liked the embarrassment.”

I didn’t answer.

“You liked that our friends stormed off.”

Still didn’t answer.

“God, I’m going to get so big.” His voice was surprisingly energetic for someone who should’ve been in a food coma. “You know why I layer on all that extra sauce?”

“To up the calories?” I asked.

“Yup,” he said proudly. “And because I like getting messy. It’s fun.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Don’t you think it’s fun?”

I kept my eyes on the road.

“Come on, babe. You can admit it. You know I can see the bulge in your pants.”

“Fine, okay? I freaking loved it.”

He patted his tummy. “That’s my boy.” I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or his gut.

*

When we got home, there was an Amazon box on our door. Alex had ordered something. “Bring that in, please. I can’t bend over.”

I brought it inside and dropped it on our bed. It was heavy and flat. I probably could’ve guessed what it was, but I was too excited to step into the shower with my boyfriend.

As the soapy water washed over us, I lathered up my hands and cleaned all his creases and curves. His body was just as muscular and perfect as before. The only difference was his round, swollen gut. I spent most of my time washing that. It felt so foreign and yet so natural. His body needed a gut like this. He wasn’t complete without it.

Just one day ago, that thought would’ve been laughable. But now, thanks to Alex’s infectious motivation, I was desperate to make it permanent. To watch it grow. To help it grow.

After racking up our water bill for the second day in a row, we toweled off and walked toward our bed.

He grabbed the Amazon box and handed it to me like a king knighting one of his subjects. “Open it.”

You probably already figured out what it was: A scale.

Until that day, we didn’t have a scale of our own. Didn’t need it.

He tore off the plastic wrapping like he was opening a Christmas present. “Batteries included!” he read excitedly. God, he was such a kid.

“You know if you weigh yourself now, it won’t be accurate,” I said.

“All the buffet food. I know,” he said, though I could tell by his expression that the thought hadn’t occurred to him.

He placed the scale right in front of our wall-length mirror. That way, he could look at himself every time he decided to check his weight. (And judging by the constant level of enthusiasm he’d maintained for the last two days, he’d probably be weighing himself a lot. An unhealthy amount, really.)

Before he stepped on, we checked out our reflections. We were both still naked from the shower. He was semi-erect, but I guess my body had calmed down from the weird eroticism of our messy meal.

I looked the same as always. Noticeably thin, with enough definition to show that I wasn’t starving myself. I didn’t have abs (never did). In the past, Alex had described my body as “sleek.” I didn’t quite know what that meant at the time, but it seemed fitting.

My cock was shorter and thicker than Alex’s. I was uncut and he wasn’t.

I didn’t spend much time looking over my (pretty unspectacular) body, because that wasn’t why we were here. We were here for Alex, and God was he beautiful.

Masculine and beautiful.

His arms and legs were thick with muscles. His shoulders were wide and his hips narrow. All of that looked exactly the same.

And then there was his belly. Painfully swollen. Proudly swollen.

Perfectly round, too.

“I know I’m just bloated,” he muttered. “So this is sort of a previous of what we’re building. Together.”

My dick hardened again. Of course he noticed.

“Babe!”

“Just step on the scale.” We were here to get a starting weight, but for some reason, I was more excited than he was.

He took a deep breath, holding his belly proudly, and stepped on the scale. “Read it for me,” he asked, as if his belly was too big for him to see the number. (It wasn’t.)

“186,” I said once the numbers finally settled down.

“Point four,” he added.

“Again, the number’s skewed because—”

“I know! Can you get your phone?”

“You want a photo?”

“I was hoping you’d look up one of those BMI calculators.”

I hurried back, my semi-hardness flopping as I ran to my pile of discarded clothes on the floor. I fished out my phone and googled a BMI calculator. (I’d never heard of that before.)

I typed in his weight and height and clicked submit. “23.9.”

“What category is that?” he asked, still studying his reflection.

“Normal,” I said. “But once you reach 25, you’ll be overweight.”

“And obese?” he asked.

“30 plus. But again…”

“I know. I know. The results are skewed. You don’t have to keep telling me.”

“Sorry.”

He turned to look at me. He wasn’t annoyed or anything. He had this cheeky grin stretched across his face. “You wanna give it a try?” he asked. He was talking about the scale.

“I don’t think I need to.”

“Just for comparison.”

I shrugged. Might as well.

I walked over, gave his belly a little pat, and stepped on. “It says I’m…”

“Let me read it!” he shouted, even though I’d already seen the number. “131 pounds, babe.”

Hearing that number out loud made me feel surprisingly self-conscious. I knew I was thin. And at 5’8”, I didn’t expect to be anywhere close to Alex’s number. But still, that was pretty low.

He typed something into my phone. “It says we’re in the same category. ‘Normal.’ Your BMI is 20.1.” Then he noticed my expression. “You’re disappointed.”

“No.”

“If you’d like to gain a little with me…”

“No thank you.” I was fully on-board with Alex growing himself, but I couldn’t imagine getting fatter alongside him. That didn’t appeal to me at all.

That was the answer he wanted to hear. “Cool. I like the contrast.”

“Contrast” was definitely the right word. My reflection looked so tiny next to my big, bloated man. 131 compared to 186.

I slid my hand across his stomach, grabbed him by the waist, and led him to the bed. I pushed him down and got on my knees. He was fully hard now. (I was too, but I wanted to please him first. To congratulate him on a job well done.)

I licked the tip hello, wrapped my mouth around his member, and gave him a full-throated, enthusiastic congratulations. I’d given him plenty of blowjobs before, but this felt different. Better. From the shutters running through his body, I could tell he felt the same.

After several minutes, I felt droplets of thick liquid fall onto my still-wet hair. I released him and looked up. He was chugging something from a thermos. Something thick and pink. It oozed down his chin.

“Why are you stopping?” he asked.

I smiled and kept going, feeling nothing but contentment and love.

Read Part 7 here.

[ultimateissuessimp]

Be okay, be alright

One shot

Word count: 1,693

Warnings: Serious and life threatening accident during a race, angst with a happy ending

Baron Helmut Zemo, a famous Formula 1 driver for the Thunderbolts team, fighting for the title of a World Champion, his third one to be exact. Yet there was one log on his path. That log being his rival, Y/N L/N, another two time World Champion, driving for the Arcane Infinity team right behind him on the points. One last race that would determine who's the better driver, who deserves the title more and both men were extremely motivated to make the other see the rear of their car.

This where it all went wrong. The beginning of the race, everything was perfect, a 2.4 second start for both of them, going wheel to wheel on the first corner, everyone else left behind. They didn't matter. All that mattered was who could lead the longest, who would see the finish flag first, who'd stand on that podium, receiving the first place trophy and a trophy for winning the world championship.

The first 20 laps went perfectly, one pit stop for both of them, changing from soft to hard tires. Their rivals 16 seconds behind them as they drove further and further, pushing their cars' limits. Their hards lasted just how they planned, Y/N changing his tires to mediums on lap 46, Zemo changing his just a lap further making Y/N gain the lead, but not without a fight. 10 laps to go, 10 laps that would determine who's the better driver.

What Y/N's pit stop crew ommited was the fact that one of his rear tires was not screwed in properly, getting loose with every corner, with each use of the DRS. He felt something was wrong, especially when his tires locked in on one of the last corners during lap 55. All it took was one minor contact of Zemo's right front wing with the left rear tire of Y/N's car and it came off clean, flying off into a different direction than where he was driving, nearly hitting the baron's own car.

Y/N lost grip, the car swerving violently to the side, hitting the curb that made him rise up and spin in the air, tumbling straight towards the wall through the gravel. All he could see was the sky and the ground by each passing second as he spun and spun, smashing into the wall. If that wasn't enough, his engine caught fire, making everything even hotter than it already was. He pressed the radio button, his head woozy and eyesight still fogged up.

-There's a fire, there's a fucking fire! Get me out of here, I can't get out! - Y/N screamed over the radio. He couldn't pull his foot out, it was stuck on one of the parts that got damaged during the contact with the wall. He tried to remain calm but when he felt the licks of the fire that wanted to stick to him despite having a fire resistant overalls beneath his race suit, he panicked and started jerking his leg, trying to get it free.

The marshalls already ran over to him, trying to put out the fire and get him out of the car. When they finally got him out, he could feel every bone and muscle in his body, especially when one of the marshall's pulled on his arm to help him out. He cried out in pain, falling to his knees on the gravel, not too far away from the still burning car. They pulled him away to the best of their abilities, so he was in a safe distance from the fire in case the engine decided to blow up. In a moment where he could take a breath, his eyes travelled forward onto the race track, seeing Zemo's car pulled to the side and the man himself running to him.

-Are you okay?! Fuck, I'm sorry! Is everything alright?! - Helmut yelled over the concerned roar from the tribunes, worried fans screaming for Y/N to be safe, some even praying.

-We have to take him away, the ambulance is already on its way! - one of the marshalls said, holding away Zemo from reaching Y/N. The man himself wanted to answer him, reply that he will be fine but he couldn't due to the lack of strength and him being short of breath, the fumes of the fire getting into his lungs making him cough violently.

Shortly after the ambulance arrived. They got Y/N onto the stretcher and into the medical were the paramedics without a second of hesitation started checking him out, taking off his helmet and protective gear. They drove off, leaving a very worried rival that begged to go with him, but they didn't let him. He ran off behind the walls of the track, wanting to reach his garage to take his car keys and straight to the parking lot, starting up the car and going after the ambulance. Luckily the hospital wasn't far from the track.

When he reached the hospital, he stopped and jumped out of the car, running after the paramedics who transported Y/N on the stretchers to a free room where the doctors without losing a second started to take care of him. Zemo wanted to be there with him but a bunch of nurses just like the marshalls on the track stopped him from getting into the room.

-Please tell me he'll be okay! He has to be, please! - the baron shouted, his anxiety eating away at him. He chewed on his lower lip in a nervous manner.

-Sir, please, you have to stay here. He's in the best hands, your partner will be just fine - one of the nurses said in a slightly broken English, putting her hands on top of Zemo's shoulders, making him sit down on the chair in front of the room they operated Y/N in.

-What? Partner? He-… Promise me he'll be alright - Helmut begged the nurse, exasperation written all over his face as his eyes fogged up with unshed tears, guilt and worry could be seen in them.

-We promise. He's in the best hands. In no time you will be able to see him - the nurse who was speaking to Zemo promised him before having to leave the man when they needed her inside for help.

He put his face into his hands, bending down to rest his elbows on his knees as his legs bounced. The "No time" turned into hours before they told him that he was stable, but his body damaged in many places, specifically speaking both of his wrists being broken alongside his relocated shoulder, a couple of harsh bruises and crushed from the force ribs.

Finally they let him inside and he immediately ran into the room taking a spot on the chair near the bed Y/N was laying on, still unconscious after the procedure. They also told him he'll be unresponsive for the rest of the day. He placed his hand gently on the side of Y/N's face, the tears that were in his eyes finally falling freely down his cheeks.

-I'm so sorry Y/N… Please be okay… You have to be. I'll do anything, just please wake up soon - Zemo said quietly, his voice shaking as he sat there, exhausted after the race and hours of worrying over his rival's well being.

It wasn't long before Zemo fell asleep with his head resting against the edge of the hospital bed, his REM sleep plagued with nightmares of far worse happening to Y/N. He woke up to a feeling of someone's hand very lightly going through his hair. He carefully lifted his head to look up just to see a tired smile on Y/N's face. His own lit up before he noticed the man's still slightly raised hand.

-Why are you using your hand in any way? Your wrist is broken, lay it back down! - the baron said with a worried tone, gently helping the injured racer lay his hand down on his stomach.

-Oh hush, I'm tougher than you think - Y/N said, his voice hoarse and quiet, not wanting to tire it out too much, but the smile on his face spoke volumes. - So uh… You said something about "doing anything if I wake up"… Does the offer still stand? - he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he observed Zemo's reactions.

-Yeah, what is it? Do you need anything? - Zemo asked, almost eagerly as he slightly leaned forward towards Y/N.

-Well, they do say a kiss can make people feel better and I think I really do need a kiss right now - the man said, tilting his head to the side while still resting it on the pillow, a moment of nausea hit him with the sudden movement but as quickly as it appeared, as quickly it went away.

Zemo almost chocked on an inhale of air, eyes wide as he stared at Y/N, his lips slightly parted in shock. He thought for a moment, deciding if what the racer had said was just for the laughs or did he actually mean it, but after some time of thinking he started to lean in, giving Y/N time to back out if he didn't actually want it, yet when he saw that smug smirk on the man's face, he mentally said "fuck it" and completely leaned in, covering Y/N's lips with his own in a gentle and sweet kiss. After a moment or two he pulled back, their faces still close to each other before Zemo pulled away completely and sat properly on the chair.

-Mmm, I feel completely healed already - Y/N said with humour in his voice, sending a wink baron's way, his hand reaching out for Zemo's own, taking it and holding it dearly.

-Oh shut up - Zemo chuckled quietly, rubbing soothing circles into Y/N's hand and leaning down to press a gentle kiss against the back of it. The situation that caused both of them being here was awful, but maybe there were some positive in the negatives after all?

[sarandipitywrites]

dead darlings tag

@ahordeofwasps tagged me for this one - thank you! check out her dead darling (slaughtered mercilessly) here.

since Dead Roots, Dark Water is on to draft 3, that means there's plenty of senseless slaying of darlings from draft 2 going on around here.

tagging (with no pressure) @winterandwords, @byjillianmaria, @just-a-local-dreamer, @rewritingrosie, @lordfenric-writes, and you, if you have anything you'd like to share from your editing :)

here's a bit from DRDW that didn't make the cut for draft 3. oh, the carnage.

The roofs of the buildings crowded in closer. Jak took a deep breath and peered over the dash. The street had narrowed, buildings closing in to force the two lanes of zoomers scarcely an arm’s length apart as they flowed in opposite directions. Pedestrians walked the cratered street below, skirting around or leaping over the largest potholes. No side streets or alleys broke up the parallel gray monoliths. Just metal and stone, pinning them in like swamp rats in a maze. All the blood rushed away from his head and into his stomach. Saliva pooled in his mouth and he shoved his hand up under his scarf and sank his teeth into his thumb. This wasn’t a trap. It wasn’t a box. It was a road, and it went somewhere. It went to the water slums. Daxter knew where they were going. He needed to trust— “Ah, fuck.” Red. Red cruisers in the air, speeder bikes on the ground. Red armor, stopping every pedestrian and vehicle that tried to pass through the bottleneck. People presented small cards to be scanned. The armor allowed them to pass, or sent them back. Beyond them, worn wooden boardwalks stretched over water dark as eco. Bile rose in Jak’s throat. He bit down harder. “Y’know what, fuck that. Right? Yeah, fuck that.” Daxter cranked a lever and spun the zoomer around to merge into the other lane — the one heading away from the water slums. “Hey, grab the comm outta my bag and call Brutter for me, wouldja?” Jak pulled Daxter’s bag from the footwell and sifted through the contents. His hand brushed against something damp and he recoiled, switching to his prosthetic hand until he encountered a small boxy shape. He pulled it out, took one look, and groaned. Half screen, half speaker, no keyboard. One button on the side labelled ‘HOV.’ The scroll wheel on the other side would serve all other functions. Commonplace tech in Sandover, but he’d figured Haven would have something more— “—suspicious vehicle. Checking it out.” One of the guards mounted up on a speeder before the street twisted and the red vanished behind stone. “Dax, I think they’re—” “Don’t sweat it. I get tailed, like, twenty times a day. Just keep your head down and get Brutter on.” Brutter. Right. He scrolled to Daxter’s contact list and clicked. Seventeen pages. A dozen entries scrolled by — including one mysteriously labelled ‘Boom Boy’ — before  he found Brutter’s contact. He clicked the scroll wheel and listened to one and a half rings before the comm picked up. “Orangey friend!” A guttural, booming voice rattled the speaker. Jak jolted in his seat and fumbled the comm, caught it again before it could tumble to the street below. “You found friend Jak, yeah?” Jak glanced behind them. The red speeder tailed them several vehicles back. Had the guard heard Brutter? Would it— “Dial it down, Sunshine. Yeah, he’s right here, but we got a change of plans. East side’s crawlin’ with swamp rats. Think y’could close up shop early tonight?” “Oh yeah. Got it, got it, see you guys quick!” The speaker clicked and went silent. Jak slipped the comm back into Daxter’s bag. “Guess I’m meeting Brutter sooner than we thought?” Daxter glanced back and tensed. A siren wailed. “Attention, green duplex: ground your vehicle immediately for a random search.” Daxter flipped a switch and the zoomer descended to the street level. “Yeah. A lot sooner.” He slammed down on the accelerator.

[reagan-mclean]

OC Kiss Prompt Day 2: Rain

Here are two more of my OCs with another prompt.

Louisa really wasn’t used to the ground moving. After four weeks, she’d finally started to get used to the rocking of the ship, but then they’d spent a week on land, and after almost falling repeatedly, she’d gotten used to solid ground again. She had no idea how the others did it except that they were professionals. 

The door Louisa had been attempting to reach swung open, spaying her with water. That was what she was heading above deck for. Fanny had told her to go to sleep, but unlike her sisters, she couldn’t sleep. The sound of the rain called to Fanny as it had since she was a little girl. That and she knew her time on the Emerald Lady would soon come to an end, and she wanted to take in as much as possible so she could write a book about her adventure. 

Struggling up the stairs, she finally made her way to the top deck, which she was certain had a special name and even more certain Captain Eamon had explained it to her at some point. That meant it was either in the extensive collection of notes she kept in the small room the captain provided her and Fanny or he’d told her while smiling and he'd been completely distracted by how beautiful he was. Lousia decided it was probably the former, even if the latter did occur too often for her to admit to her sisters. 

When she’d been below deck, everyone seemed grumpy and wet. She’d wished she’d had some extra blankets to pass out, but all she had was the one in her bed. Once Louisa had decided to come up, she passed off her blacket to a cold sailor, but there wasn’t anything else she could do. Up here, though, the vibe was very different. Most of the crew were performing their various tasks as they did any other time. 

The biggest difference was the handsome captain himself. He seemed more… Louisa couldn’t even think of any words that accurately completed that sentence. He simply seemed more. His clothes were completely soaked through, and grinning. He moved around the deck with ease, checking in on each group of sailors, seeming to accumulate more energy the longer it rained. 

Louisa was so content watching him that she almost didn’t realize when he’d spoken to her. She blinked in surprise as he strutted closer. As he approached she noticed that the top half of the buttons of his shirt were open. Unbidden, her gaze dropped to his bared chest and she immediately forced it back up. She returned her gaze to his face, finding him wearing a faintly amused smirk.

“I asked you if you needed something, lass.”

“Oh. I just wanted to know how the rain affected the way their crew worked, so I was just watching.”

“Come with me. I’ll explain it to you.”

For the next several minutes Louisa followed Eamon around the ship listing intently as he explained all the ways weather affected sailing. She was interested enough that she only got mildly distracted by his attractiveness about twice. He ended his explanation by guiding her to the helm. 

“I’ll take it from here,” he told the man currently manning the helm. He stepped away, offering control back to the captain and Eamon stepped forward. He only put one hand on it, choosing instead to make Lousia the focus of his attention. 

“You want to try?”

Louisa’s jaw dropped, and she was certain Fanny would scold how unladylike it was, but she jumped in excitement and clapped her hands. “Can I really?”

“Certainly,” he agreed, stepping back to give her enough space to take the helm. 

He waited until she had a secure grip to let go. As soon as he moved his hand, Louisa could feel a difference and she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to control it. Louisa could feel her muscles straining as the wheel spun and the boat started to move. She was about to turn around and ask for help when she felt it start to steady. Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed Eamon had stepped up behind her. 

“Not as easy as it looks?” He asked playfully.

“I don’t think I’m strong enough,” she admitted.

“It's okay lass, we’ll get you there,” he reassured, continuing to steer the ship with his arms around her waist. Unsure what else to do, trapped between him and the helm, Louisa continued to hold it as she was steering instead of him. Even though she was certain her sisters would not agree, Eamon kept a respectable distance for a pirate captain. Between the rain and her proximity to the captain, Louisa was happier than she’d been in weeks. 

“You seem different in the rain,” she remarked after several moments of silence. 

“It reminds me of home,” he answered in a rare moment of honesty.

“Does it rain a lot in Ireland?” She asked. 

“Yes, you’ve never been I assume?”

Louisa shrugged. “Until now, I’d never left the island.”

“Truely?” He gasped. “In eighteen years, you never left that island?”

“Nineteen,” she protested. “And I’d actually never even left the town. I’ve always wanted to though. Henry used to bring me back stuff from everywhere he traveled. That’s part of why I’m so curious about everything. Once I go back, I probably won’t get to travel again.”

“Well then, I guess we should make better use of your sailing lesson,” he decided, removing the distance that he’d been leaving. The proximity made Louisa much warmer, especially when he leaned in close to her ear to whisper the instructions into her ear. 

It took a lot for her to focus on the advice he was giving her instead of the way he was touching her, but she’d managed. She even managed to keep control of the ship when he took one of his hands off the helm to wrap around her waist. After a moment, he surprised her by pressing a kiss into her neck. 

Eamon pulled away when she gasped. She turned around, trying to ignore the heat in her face. “W-what was that for?”

He shrugged. “Partially because I was proud of you for figuring thai out so quickly, but mostly just because you looked really cute.”

Louisa blushed at how openly he admitted to finding her cute. She didn’t have much, any, experience with men, but whenever her sibling talked about courtship they did it with subtle gestures, not honest declarations. “I…I’m sure I look silly all covered in rain, but…I’m glad you don’t agree.”

“You should go dry off and get some sleep,” he instructed. “Fanny will kill me if she knows I let you stay out here this late.”

Louisa huffed. “She’s not my mother even though she acts like it.”

“She’s just worried about you, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders. You should take more heed of what she has to say.”

The last thing she wanted to hear was that her older sister was right, but she didn’t want to insult the captain after how nice he’d been to her, and she didn’t want to jeopardize the chance of another situation like the one they’d just had. “I’ll think about it. Thank you for the lesson, by the way. I was so excited I think I forgot to say that. And thank you for everything else too.”

There were a lot of ways to interpret that last bit, given everything he’d done for her, but the blush in her cheeks gave exactly what she was referring to. The teasing smile on his face told her that he’d picked up on her meaning as well. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’ll take any opportunity I get to show off my Emerald Lady. And if you’d ever like another kiss, you know where to find me.”