#1000 free spine

[killerelysia]

I’m not sure if you take requests, but could I get a story featuring Hyugo x Yandere Reader, where the Reader is Sol’s sibling? MC can be a separate character. If this isn’t something you’re comfortable with, feel free to ignore it!

SHOT IN YOUR HEART- HYUGO SUGIMOTO X G.N (SIBLING!) BRUGMANSIA READER!

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!

Words: 1000

Genre: Yandere

Reader : G.N (Role)- Solivan Brugmansia's sibling

Summary: You helped Hyugo with a dangerous situation, but you couldn’t just walk away. You stayed close, watching him deal with the aftermath, unable to tear yourself away.

Hyugo didn’t want you involved, but you couldn’t just let him face this alone. You told him you wouldn’t let him die—that he was too important to let go. He didn’t argue, though you could see the frustration and concern in his eyes. He knows you’re delusional, but deep down, you think he doesn’t mind you being there. He may not admit it, but you’d do anything to protect him.

And even if you push him too far sometimes, even if he keeps his distance, you’ll be by his side. Always.

Trigger warnings: Violence, Obsession and unhealthy relationships, Death and murder, Emotional manipulation, Delusional behavior

EXTRA: MC is taken as separate character in this!

You were with Sol, Hyugo watching the movie with them after bunking classes!

MC ruined your date but it was fine! They just wanted to see the movie! You were glad Sol was having a great time too, Your big brother.

Mc wanted to go the restroom, so you just told them to give you a call. If they need anything

When your phone buzzed, displaying an incoming call from MC. Confused, you tapped on Sol’s arm, showing him the screen. Without a word, you both excused yourselves, and you stepped aside to take the call.

"I'm giving you one last chance, buddy,"

A gruff voice growled on the other end, followed by the sound of shuffling. The tone sent a chill down your spine. Before you could respond, the voice dropped to a whisper, and your instincts kicked in. Something wasn’t right.

Quickly, you placed the call on speaker and exchanged a tense glance with Sol. But the line fell silent, unnervingly so. Then, out of nowhere, the same voice erupted, panicked and desperate:

"He’s here! I swear! Just look around—you’ll find him here! Please don’t kill me!"

Your heart skipped a beat. That voice—wasn’t that...?

“What the fuck? That’s...” Sol’s expression turned pale. “Y/n, that voice—it’s Hyugo’s messenger!”

Before you could think, Sol was already moving. “Call Hyugo! They might be in danger! I have to—”

“Stop!” You hissed, grabbing his arm.

“Y/n—”

“Sol, you’re bad at this. Leave it to me. Just get Hyugo, okay? I’ll handle it.” Your sharp tone left no room for argument.

But Sol wasn’t having it. “You don’t get it!” he snapped. “This isn’t about you playing a —”

You cut him off with a shove, frustration boiling over. “Go! You will scare them off fucker!”

His jaw tightened, but he relented, darting off to find Hyugo. You, on the other hand, had a different plan. Your brother’s obsession with MC was worrisome, but you had your own reasons to worry. You couldn’t let this escalate—or let MC get hurt.

Despite being a theater, They were some shops, you stormed into a nearby store, snatching a baseball bat on your way out. The weight of it felt solid in your grip as you moved quickly, weaving through the mall toward the public restrooms. The call played over and over in your head, the frantic cries and threats echoing like a warning siren.

You reached the restroom, your heart racing. That’s when you saw them: a man gripping MC by the hair, pulling hard enough to make them groan in pain.

The man, still gripping MC’s hair, leaned down to pick up their phone, fumbling with it as he accidentally opened the camera. The screen lit up, switching to the selfie mode, casting an eerie glow on his face. He stared at his own reflection, confused and slightly irritated as he muttered to himself, trying to turn it off.

The moment he was distracted, you appeared behind him, silent as a shadow. Without a word, you raised the baseball bat high.

In the reflection of the phone’s screen, your figure loomed behind him, and in that split second of realization, his eyes widened. But it was too late.

CRACK!

The bat connected with the side of his head in a swift, calculated swing. He staggered, letting out a pained grunt as he lost his grip on MC and stumbled forward. Before he could recover, you delivered a vicious kick to his side, sending him crashing to the tiled floor with a dull thud.

He lay motionless, unconscious.

MC gasped, clutching their scalp where their hair had been yanked. Their wide eyes darted from the man on the ground to you, still clutching the bat, your chest heaving from adrenaline.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice firm but with an edge of concern.

MC nodded shakily, taking a step back as they tried to catch their breath. “I—yeah. I think so. But… who is he? Why was he—”

“Doesn’t matter right now,” you cut them off, your eyes flicking toward the unconscious man. “We need to get you somewhere safe first.”

Before either of you could move, footsteps echoed down and Sol appeared, followed closely by Hyugo. Sol’s eyes darted between you, MC, and the unconscious man, his expression darkening.

“Mc…” Sol started, his voice low and tense.

MC’s eyes were fixed on the splattered blood across the walls, a disturbing contrast to the stark white tiles of the restroom. Their face was pale, body trembling, and it was clear they were trying to process the scene. Hyugo, ever perceptive, quickly stepped in between them and the gruesome sight, his hands gently guiding their gaze elsewhere.

“Don’t look at that,” he said softly, his voice a comforting contrast to the tension in the air.

MC, however, was already asking, “Can we go outside? I—just need some fresh air.”

You nodded, stepping back as Sol wrapped his arm around MC, guiding them gently toward the exit. You followed closely behind, but your mind wasn’t on the mall’s exit or the situation at hand. You were focused on the man you’d knocked out. There was no time to dwell on it, but the sight of blood... it had a way of staying with you.

You all walked out, Sol gave Hyugo a look—a silent exchange that didn’t go unnoticed. Hyugo sighed and waved him off with a dismissive motion, clearly used to this routine.

You looked at him, He told you to go.

Sol started talking to MC, leading them toward the parking lot. His voice was calm, but there was a noticeable edge to it. “I’ll take you home, okay?” he said to MC. “Get some rest.”

You stood a few paces away, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed, watching them.

Sol turned his gaze to you, clearly annoyed. “Go home, Y/n. You’ve done enough.”

You scoffed, pushing off the wall. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He glanced away, rubbing his temple in frustration. His distress was palpable, and it almost amused you. “Why are you like this?” he muttered.

“Stop sniffing around like a dog on MC,” you retorted, your tone sharp. “It’s not that hard to act normal.”

Sol looked at you, his eyes narrowing, before he let out a long sigh. “You’re worse with Hyugo,” he said quietly, his frustration almost tangible.

You smirked. “The only difference is I can show the shit, Sol, Go on a date with your beloved!” you shot back, your words dripping with sarcasm.

He sighed, shaking his head. With one final look at you, he waved and turned back to MC.

You watched them for a moment, then stuck your tongue out at Sol, who wasn’t paying attention. His back was turned, but you knew he felt it.

MC, who hadn’t been paying attention to the exchange, walked up to you. They smiled faintly, still a bit shaken, but they reached out to take your hands. “Thank you,” they said softly.

You shrugged, giving a half-smile in return. “It’s fine.”

Sol was already walking ahead, his face dark and brooding, but you didn’t care. You waved at him as you turned to leave, feeling a sense of relief. The tension was still thick, but it felt easier to breathe now.

You crossed your arms, a skeptical look on your face. “So, what’s the situation, Hyugo? You shouldn’t be storming into this so lightly. I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“I agree,” Hyugo said, his voice dripping with annoyance. “What a pain in the ass.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, let me take care of him. Go watch the movie or something.”

Hyugo, noticing the shift in your expression, couldn't help but smirk. But it faded quickly as he observed you, now flushed and clearly embarrassed. "Don’t be delusional," he said, his usual playful tone replaced by something much colder and darker.

You shot him a glare. "What?"

“Go home,” he ordered, though he could see the defiance in your posture. He knew you better than anyone—knew that you'd probably just follow him, no matter how many times he told you to go away. You were a pain in the ass, always nagging him, but it was nothing new. Deep down, he didn’t mind it.

Hyugo wasn’t hard to figure out. He had that youthful, carefree energy, his eyes bright blue with a hint of mischief that made him easy to get along with. His round face and soft features made him look almost innocent, though his teal-colored hair, shaggy in the back with a long rat tail, hinted at his wild side.

Today, though, his usual fun-loving nature was a bit more subdued, his bubbly personality slipping away as the situation got more serious. He wore his usual black long-sleeve shirt underneath a white button-up, with a green sweater vest layered on top. His black slacks were crisp, though his shoes—like always—were unspecified. The lack of jewelry was a stark contrast to his chaotic energy.

Though Hyugo had earned the title of “Mister MIA” for his tendency to skip class, no one doubted his reliability when it came to handling things—whether it was personal or school-related. He’d become a staple at school for his ability to get things done, even if it meant being absent from his classes.

He sighed and ran a hand through his teal bangs, pushing the long side pieces out of his eyes. “I know you’re gonna stalk me anyway, but go home. I’ll handle this.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, even if he tried to act like he didn’t care. There was always something comforting about his presence, even in the midst of the chaos.

After helping Hyugo drag the unconscious man—the one who dared to hurt Sol’s beloved—he turned to you, his expression cold and unreadable. “Go home,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. But you knew him better than that. He didn’t just want you gone. He didn’t want you to see what was coming.

Still, you handed him the gun you had taken from the man. The weight of it was heavy, but not unfamiliar. You weren’t innocent—not by a long shot—but it didn’t mean you liked this side of things. And you knew Hyugo didn’t want you to see his side either.

The side of him that was a cold-blooded killer.

You told yourself you’d listen this time. You’d leave. But who were you kidding? Of course, you didn’t. You just couldn’t help it—you liked to watch, to know, to see. Sol’s influence ran too deep. His lessons had taught you to be sharp, to trust your instincts, and sometimes, that meant lurking in the shadows.

The blood of a Brugmansia is weird.

So, you followed Hyugo, keeping yourself hidden behind a wall. You watched as he stood over the man, his posture tense. The man had woken up and was saying too much—pleading, bargaining, running his mouth. Hyugo didn’t flinch. He simply raised the gun and pulled the trigger.

The sound echoed in the stillness, the sharp crack leaving a ringing in your ears. You didn’t flinch either.

You never really understood the full story between Hyugo and Sol, and you didn’t care to. It wasn’t your business. All you cared about was Hyugo—and you were happy, in your twisted way, to have someone like him to love. Even if it meant loving him from the shadows.

Even if it meant being a possessive freak.

After it was done, Hyugo lingered for a moment, staring down at the lifeless man. Finally, he spoke, his voice colder than you’d ever heard it. “I don’t think I’ll be around for the next few days. Sunny, you’ve done enough for me. This... is the end of our deal.”

The words hit you like a slap. You stepped back, surprised, though you quickly masked it. End of your deal? No. You wouldn’t let it end like this. You couldn’t let anything happen to him. But you didn’t move.

Lately, he’d been pushing you away, keeping you at a distance. And maybe that’s why you’d stooped to ugly actions like stalking him. Not because you wanted to invade his life, but because you wanted to keep him safe.

It wasn’t because you shared the same blood of a Brugmansia. That had nothing to do with it, right?

You were just... naggy. Clingy. Possessive. A little too much. Maybe even a little unhinged.

But you loved him...

Hyugo dragged the lifeless body toward the edge of the alley, his movements swift and calculated. You stayed hidden, your eyes trained on him, hyper-aware of every sound, every shift of movement around you. That’s when you saw it—the glint of a phone screen in the distance, someone recording from the shadows.

Your breath hitched. They were far enough away that Hyugo didn’t notice, but you did. And when they realized they’d been spotted, they bolted.

You sighed, a mix of frustration and resignation washing over you. “See? Stalking has its benefits,” you muttered to yourself, slipping out of your hiding spot. Hyugo may have his methods, but you had your own ways of keeping him safe.

You moved fast, cutting through the maze of alleys, anticipating their path. Sure enough, you caught up to them just as they turned a corner, grabbing them by the collar and shoving them back against the wall. The person—a young man, no older than a student—stared at you with wide, panicked eyes, their phone clutched tightly in their trembling hands.

“You’re not supposed to see that,” you said calmly, your voice devoid of emotion.

They stammered something unintelligible, their words choked by fear. You didn’t bother listening. Instead, you wrenched the phone from their grip, held it up for a brief moment, and then smashed it onto the ground. The device shattered with a sickening crunch under your boot, bits of glass and metal scattering across the pavement.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your tone eerily soft as you looked them in the eye. “But I can’t let you leave.”

Before they could scream, beg, or plead, you acted. Quick, precise, and merciless. Your blade found its mark, and the alley was silent once again, save for the faint drip of blood pooling beneath them.

You stared down at their lifeless body, your expression blank. The blood didn’t faze you, didn’t stir any emotion. If anything, you felt... nothing. Empty.

You knelt briefly, ensuring there were no loose ends—no evidence left behind—before standing up and brushing off your hands. For a moment, you glanced at the body, your gaze hollow.

Hyugo found you in the middle of the mess you’d left behind—blood staining your clothes, your hands, and the ground around you. You stood there with a serene smile, almost too proud of yourself. When your eyes met his, you could see the mixture of emotions flicker across his face: anger, exasperation, and something deeper—concern.

“Y/n…” he sighed, running a hand through his shaggy teal hair. His voice was low and tight, just on the edge of frustration. “I told you to go home. What the hell is this?” He gestured at the scene, the blood, the shattered phone. “You’ve made a complete mess.”

Your smile didn’t falter. “If I hadn’t been stalking you, you would’ve gotten your ass caught, Hyugo.” You crossed your arms, defiant. “I saved you! Shouldn’t you be saying thank you? Also! I'm sure Sol will just stalk them and not come home!”

He groaned, turning away from you, visibly trying to collect himself. His hands clenched into fists by his sides, but when he spoke again, there was a tremor in his voice. “You... You shouldn’t have done this.”

But even as he said it, his shoulders slumped, and his gaze softened. Worry pulled at his lips as he turned back to you, his usual sharp eyes clouded with concern. He looked serious again, and you knew exactly what he was going to say next.

You stepped closer to him, your voice dropping to a quiet, almost reverent tone. “I won’t let you die, Hyugo,” you said firmly. “You’re a Sherlock! You need to stay alive—to clean up some of this society’s filth.” Your lips curved into a soft smile, but your words carried a weight that made him hesitate.

Hyugo opened his mouth as if to argue, to tell you to leave, to go away—but the words wouldn’t come. He wanted to push you away, to tell you that you were too delusional, too much of a risk. But the thought of hurting you, even with words, made his chest tighten.

How long would he even be alive? The answer to that question felt uncertain at best. And until then… maybe it wasn’t so bad to let you stay by his side. Even if you were a little unhinged.

“Y/n,” he said firmly, his voice steady as he called your name.

You blinked, your lovesick gaze locking onto him. “What?”

He stepped closer, raising a hand to gently pat your head. The gesture was warm, almost affectionate. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “You did a good job.”

Your heart skipped, and your smile widened into something almost dreamlike. You reached out, taking his hand in yours, your grip firm but trembling slightly. “Did I make you proud, Hyugo?” you asked, your voice dripping with devotion as your eyes stared at him, love-drunk and lost in the moment.

He didn’t answer immediately, just looked at you for a long moment, his expression caught between guilt and acceptance. Finally, he sighed and gave your hand a small squeeze, a wordless acknowledgment.

Your smile only grew, your eyes shining with that lovesick gleam that Hyugo had come to know too well. “You’re proud of me, aren’t you, Hyugo?” you asked, tilting your head, your fingers lacing tighter around his hand. “I’m not just a bother, right? I’m useful to you. You need me, don’t you?”

He sighed quietly, his other hand raising to gently pat your cheek, his touch firm but nonchalant. He didn’t answer—he never did when you got like this. He’d learned long ago that indulging your delusions only made things worse. Silence was safer, even if it meant enduring your relentless questions.

“Say it, Hyugo,” you pressed, leaning into his hand like a cat seeking affection. “Say you’re glad I’m here. That I make your life better.” Your voice wavered, an odd mix of desperation and triumph, as if you were savoring the moment even as you chased more.

Hyugo’s expression didn’t change, his gaze steady and unreadable. He knew better than to react, knew this was just part of your... routine. God knows how long he’d been putting up with this, how long he’d let himself be dragged into your obsessive little world. But he didn’t pull away either. Not yet.

“You don’t have to say it,” you said with a soft laugh, shifting to hold his wrist, keeping his hand against your cheek. “I already know. You’re glad I’m here. You’d be lost without me.”

His jaw tightened, but he still said nothing. His silence wasn’t agreement—it was survival. He’d perfected this strategy over time, knowing that anything he said could—and would—be twisted in your mind into the answer you wanted to hear.

“You trust me, right?” you continued, your voice almost teasing now, as if you were testing him. “You’d let me protect you again, wouldn’t you? Because I love you, Hyugo. I’d do anything for you. And you love me too, don’t you?”

His hand stilled for a moment, resting against your cheek. He didn’t pull away, didn’t sigh this time, didn’t do anything to acknowledge your words. He just waited, calm and collected, his patience stretched thin but still holding.

Your smile softened, and you pressed your cheek harder against his hand. “You don’t have to say it,” you whispered, closing your eyes briefly. “I already know.”

Hyugo let out a slow breath, his mind a storm of thoughts he’d never share aloud. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up, how long he could keep himself tethered to this strange, all-consuming connection you’d forced between you. But for now, he didn’t pull his hand away.

“Let’s go, We need to clean.” he finally said, his voice even, cutting through your reverie. It wasn’t an answer to your questions—he wouldn’t give you that—but it was enough to guide you away from this moment before it spiraled further.

You smiled again, stepping closer to him. “Okay, Hyugo,” you said softly, as if the conversation had ended exactly the way you wanted it to. “I’ll follow you anywhere. Even in hell!"

Hyugo does hate naggy people.

Maybe not you tho.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Gift Wrapped.

18+ only. Minors DNI

My friend and I were having a discussion the other day about just how hot a man in military uniform is, how they’re all perfectly gift wrapped for you, it reminded me of this short thing I’d wrote.

It’s almost 5am here but you all have been blessing me with likes so lemme bless you with this.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem bodied Reader (no use of Y/N)

Words: Under 1000 (definitely know what it is)

Warnings: mention of alcohol consumption, Smut, Bucky in his uniform. If I’ve missed anymore let me know

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

The drinks had well and truly been flowing. Bucky’s squad had just recently been rescued and in celebration you were all dragged to a bar.

You had to admit, Bucky looked mighty swell in his uniform, spare the hat, which had been sat aside him for the rest of the evening. His hair was tussled and a small blush decorating his cheeks as he spoke away to Steve. His shoulders looked exceptionally wide and his waist teeny tiny, it was hard not to run your eyes over his figure.

He caught your eyes staring, his lips quirking up into a small smile and his eyes running over your own body before giving you a sly wink. Your body was all of a sudden crying out for a refreshment.

As you approached the bar and made small talk with the older bartender, Bucky approached you from behind, snaking his arm around you waist.

“Hey sweetheart, I missed you” his deep voice scratching your brain in the most perfect way and that deep sandalwood cologne and whiskey scent only added to the fuzziness in your mind.

“I missed you too Buck, it’s been a long time” you replied, stealing a quick glance of his body wrapped in that pristine suit now that he was much closer.

“That it has” He didn’t hide the way his eyes slinked down the curves of your body protected by your dress.

Suddenly he was dragging you to the bathrooms.

His plump lips smacked themselves onto yours, giving you no respite or room to breath. His soft breathy moans escaping his mouth and falling into your own as he explored with his tongue. He wasted no time in removing your layers of clothing, the dress pooled at your ankles and your silk panties were tucked away neatly in his pocket. He flipped your body over, giving himself a nice view of your ass and wet core.

His uniform however remained intact, albeit a little disheveled.

“Fucking missed you sweetheart” he groaned in your ear, his fingers coated in your sweet nectar as he plunged them repeatedly into your heat.

“You’re so tight again, you think you can still take my cock? Huh?” His free hand moving from palming his cock to gripping at your once neatly up done hair.

“Ahh Buck, please!” you begged, an orgasm approaching quicker than you’d like or expected.

“What baby say it”

“Fuck me, please Buck”

His fingers left your body, leaving your hole empty and clenching around nothing. You heard the sweet jingle of his belt buckle and zip and then he was over you, his large frame against your back, the gold embellished buttons sending shivers down your body as they ran down your spine.

Lining himself up with you, he ran the head from your hole to your clit, rubbing himself against the bundle of pleasure before making his way back up to your core. After a quick kiss to your temple he pushed his length inside you, hands gripping your hips with bruising strength. He was right, the abandonment of your pussy had left it tight, the thickness of his cock stretching you out wonderfully leaving you feeling completely full.

“Shit sweetheart I don’t think I’ll last long like this” he moaned erotically into your ear, the pleasure from his brutal pace evidently just as overwhelming for him as it was for you.

You moaned loudly, you could feel yourself slowly creep over that mountain, desperate to reach the peak and tumble over the sweet cliff of pleasure.

“Shit that’s it cum nice and hard for me baby. That’s it” he encouraged, dropping his right hand to play with your little clit.

It took around two measly strokes of your little bud for you to almost scream out his name in pleasure, his own orgasm coming over him as well. He pushed himself as far as he could into your hole, groaning a string of words along with your name through gritted teeth, his release hitting the farthest depths inside you.

“Fuck sweetheart” he laughed breathlessly, his sweaty head resting between your shoulder blades as he regained his strength.

You weren’t much better, the feeling of his cock slipping out with your combined juices almost enough to have you orgasming for a second time. Your weak knees suddenly struggling under the weight of both of your bodies.

“Remind me to wear my uniform more often” he quipped, gazing lovingly at you from the mirror over the sink before fetching something to clean you both up.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

40s Bucky is my literal oxygen, uhh man I just can’t. I write so much about him but get scared because I don’t like the way it’s worded and stuff. Just the SUIT the MAN, I need to go to sleep.

I hope you enjoy my mediocre writing x

[melkintoyou]

James Joint

pairing: mark x fem!reader

genre: fluff, smut, friends to lovers, stoner mark, established relationship, not suitable for minors

word count: 1,152

Summary: a summer afternoon spent with your boyfriend of four months as you slowly fall more in love

“don’t say a word.. just come over and lie here with me..”  John Mayer blared through the speakers as you sat on your boyfriend’s lap, trying to roll a joint. He swayed you both to the music. Your back into the comfort of his chest.

The room was lit bright from the golden hour, as the sun was setting. The mixture of warm sun rays and Mark's hands caressing your thighs under your dress made you highly content. 

“whatchu know about John Mayer!?” He giggled into your ear and leaving a kiss behind it. 

“Yes Mark.. you put me on..” You rolled your eyes as you sealed the joint with your tongue. 

“DONE!” You admire your work. “You like?!” You ask for your boyfriend’s approval, after him teaching you to roll for weeks now.

“Yes baby, well done” he handed you a lighter with a grin, as you turned to face him. 

Maybe it was the first hot day of the year, maybe it was your boyfriends hands desperately caressing your body or maybe it was the feel of his heart beating against your back. Something was in the air this evening.

It has been exactly 4 months since you and Mark have made things official. Each day spent with him felt like coming home after a long day. It all started with him asking you, if you had wanted a brownie from his work place one day. Then he asked again. Then again, the next day and the day after that.. Some days you didn’t even want a brownie but he continued to ask and you kept saying yes. 

He would come over almost every day with the brownie and you both spent hours just talking and laughing. Until one day you just kissed him. Shocked at first, he pulled back. “Are you sure?” He asked. 

“If we do this, you know we can never go back to being friends.. you know that right?” Sincerity in his voice. 

“I’ve never been more sure about anything else” you pulled him back into a kiss and rest was history. 

Fast forward to four months, here, now in this room. You were content. This relationship felt like a big sigh of relief from the intensity of the world and you were happy. 

“I wanna try something” he said taking in a drag. “Open your mouth” his lips hovered over yours as you tried your hardest not to melt into his mouth. He chuckled, “so needy baby.. patience.” 

You opened your mouth and fought against your instinct to kiss him. He blew the smoke into your mouth and you inhaled. “Good girl.. just like that” his voice now, lower and raspier.

He continued to do this a couple times before handing you the joint and picking you up, walking over to the bed. Laying you on the bed, he hovered over you. Taking in your features and your frame before granting you the kiss you so desperately wanted. The taste of smoke, mixed with his sweet tongue sent tingles down your spine. You got so lost into the kiss, as if the whole world had melted with your lips connecting. Nothing else mattered. 

“I want you to keep smoking” he looked into your eyes before placing soft kisses along your jaw, down to your neck whilst his hand grazed his fingers along your nipple. 

Weed made your senses work at a 1000 and you unfolded under his touch. It felt like electric shocks across your body as your underwear pooled with arousal. He slowly pulled your dress down to free your breasts, taking one in his mouth and continuing playing with the other nipple. It was getting hard to focus on the joint as your head was close to empty. 

Noticing your reaction, he chuckled to himself. “Don’t go weak on me now baby” leaving kisses across your stomach as he made his way between your legs. Moving your panties to the side, you saw his jaw drop and eyes dark, clouded with lust. He ran his fingers across your folds. “Fuck..” 

“So wet for me” he said in awe of you. Mark began to leave wet kisses along your inner thighs, making you ache for his mouth every second. He looked so majestic as the sun light hit the side of his face. Highlighting one side of his body and leaving the other side in shade. This moment felt like a painting. Unable to form words, you moaned. He licked a strip across from the bottom of your pussy to the top until he reached the clit. 

“baby.. im under your curse” the song now playing Curse by The Internet from your playlist. Mark was taking his time, giving attention to your clit making your breath get caught at the back of your throat. “ba.. I..” unable to form words you let out a moan. “Mm?” He hummed against your heat, making your mind go crazy from the vibration. He looked up at you and stopped. “Yes baby?” His face glistened from your arousal in the sun. His smile looked beautiful as ever. 

“I love this song” you finally formed a coherent sentence. “It reminds me of you” you blushed, feeling your face get hot. He inserted two fingers inside you. 

“Yeah?” His face soft but eyes determine to make you reach climax. He slowly started to pump his fingers inside you. “Is this our song?” 

You felt frustration from the absence of his tongue on your clit and pushed his head back down. “Yes..” 

He started sucking on your clit with fingers still inside you, making you see stars. He stopped and looked up again. Now, teasing you. “So what part of the song is your favourite?” He asked, furrowing his brows as if he’s genuinely curious. 

“Shhhh” you pushed his head back down again.

“Oh you want me to shut the fuck up?” He sucked on your clit one more time, gaining another moan from you. “You want me to shut up and eat your pussy baby?” 

These words went straight to your brain making your synapsis short circuit. “Uh huh” last coherent response he got from you before he grabbed your thigh to pull you closer and made circles around your clit. Fingers finding your g-spot at the same time, making you moan uncontrollably. 

“Is this the spot baby?” He giggled against your heat, no chance of slowing down. “Cum for me baby” and with that, you released all over his hands and face. Joint lost, somewhere in the abyss. Only his name and moans rolled off your tongue as he let you ride your high. He came up smiling to your face, evidently proud of himself. You grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a messy kiss, your spit and arousal mixing into one, making you dizzy. 

“I love tasting myself on you” you moaned into the kiss. 

[sizzlingstarlightsky]

*First Day Of Training

Kinktober 2024: Brat Taming

Eris x Nesta

word count: 1000

cw: Brat taming, spanking, punishment, allusion to sex

"You're going to regret that," Eris murmured, a wicked smile playing on her lips as he leaned closer to Nesta.

The air between them crackled with challenge, and Nesta's eyes narrowed in response.

"Is that so?" Nesta's voice was as sharp as the knives she had been known to throw.

"You think you can handle me?"

Her question hung in the air like a dare, and Eris' smile grew more dangerous. He grabbed her wrist, his grip firm but not painful, and tugged her closer.

"Oh, I know I can," he said, his breath hot against her ear.

Nesta's heart skipped a beat, and she could feel the heat from his body seep into her own. The scent of him was intoxicating, a blend of musk and leather that made her knees weak.

She tried to pull away, but he held her fast.

"Prove it," she spat, her voice betraying none of the desire that was slowly pooling in her core.

With a low chuckle, Eris dragged her over to a nearby chair and sat down, his eyes never leaving hers.

He yanked her over his lap, her skirts billowing up around her waist. The cool air kissed her bare skin, sending shivers down her spine. Nesta felt vulnerable, but the thrill of the moment only made her more defiant.

"You've been a very naughty girl," Eris said, his voice thick with amusement.

His hand rested on her backside, a silent promise of what was to come.

Nesta squirmed, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and arousal.

"You're one to talk," she shot back, her voice a sultry whisper.

"Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing," Eris replied, his voice dropping to a seductive growl. "And you're about to find out just how good I am at it."

Without wasting another second, he raised his hand and brought it down with a firm smack on her plump ass.

Nesta gasped, the shock of the impact sending a jolt of pleasure through her body.

She had never felt anything like this before – a strange mix of pain and pleasure that made her want to both struggle free and push back for more.

"You're going to learn to obey me, little brat," Eris said, his voice filled with authority.

His hand rested on her burning skin for a brief moment before it lifted again, delivering another smack. Nesta's breath hitched, and she could feel herself growing wetter.

"You're enjoying this," Eris observed, a smug grin playing on his face. "But that's not enough. You need to learn your place."

He began to spank her in a rhythmic pattern, alternating cheeks, each smack a little harder than the last.

Nesta bit her bottom lip, trying to stifle the moans that threatened to escape. She could feel the heat from his palm spreading across her ass, the sting growing more intense with every impact.

Her pussy was throbbing now, and she could feel the dampness spreading between her legs.

"Count," Eris ordered, his hand stilling for a moment.

Nesta's breathing was ragged, her mind racing.

This was a game she hadn't anticipated playing with the infamous High Lord, and she didn't know if she could do it. But the look in his eyes, the dominance in his tone, it called to something deep within her, a need to push boundaries and submit.

"One," she murmured, the word barely escaping her lips.

Eris' hand descended again, a little harder this time.

"Two," she counted, her voice a mix of pain and pleasure.

The sound of his hand slapping against her skin filled the room, the noise echoing in her ears. Her body was alive with sensation, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation of the next smack.

"Three," she managed to get out as another blow landed, making her jolt.

The sting was intense, but it only served to fuel her desire. She felt her cheeks burn not just from the spanking, but also from the embarrassment of her body's traitorous response.

Eris paused, his hand hovering over her reddened skin.

"You're going to count to ten, Nesta. And with each number, you're going to apologize for your disobedience." His eyes bore into hers, a fierce challenge that she couldn't ignore.

Her breath came in short gasps, the heat of his hand branding her.

"Four," she murmured, the word almost a purr. "I'm sorry for questioning you."

"Five," Eris said, his palm coming down with a sharp crack. "And for that smart mouth."

Nesta's eyes watered, but she remained defiant.

"Five," she echoed, her voice shaky with need. "I'm sorry for my mouth."

Eris' hand paused, his gaze darkening with desire.

"Your mouth," he mused, his thumb tracing a slow, teasing circle on her ass. "It's going to get you in trouble one day, little brat."

He smacked her again, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

"Six," she gasped out.

The spanking continued, each smack sending a wave of pleasure rippling through her. Nesta found herself leaning into the pain, craving the next hit as if it were a sweet caress.

Her apologies grew more earnest with each number, the words slipping out between gasps and moans.

"Seven. Eight. I'm sorry for fighting you."

Eris's hand fell harder, and she felt the tension coil tighter in her belly.

"Nine," she whimpered, her eyes squeezed shut. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

"T..ten," she finally managed, her voice breaking.

He leaned in close, his breath warm on her neck.

"Very good," he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Now, let's see how well you've learned your lesson."

He stood, setting her on her trembling legs.

Her ass was on fire, but she couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through her at his praise.

Nesta turned to face him, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and arousal. Eris's gaze dropped to her heaving chest, and she felt a smug satisfaction knowing she had affected him too.

"Is that all?" she asked, her voice a challenge.

"For now," Eris said, his eyes never leaving hers.

He stepped closer, so close she could feel the heat from his body, and ran a finger down her cheek.

"But don't think for a second that this is over. Your training has just begun."

Let me know if you want to be in a Taglist

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[doki-doki-imagines]

tw: Smut, scent kink, pee mention, masturbation (m), the reader wears panties but no pronouns are used.

author notes: This is what happens when I wake up and first thing I see is @boyardee-znuts asking for desperate 'Tsumu. I just upped the ante LOL. Hope to go back to normal writings after I finish my exams.

‘Fuck you and your cookie game’ Atsumu thinks while his right hand desperately strokes his hard cock a pair of your used panties adding a new texture to this pitiful experience.

How does he know he looks pitiful? Well, the expression on your face while you look at him leaves no room for doubts.

If you just accepted to help him out now he wouldn’t look like a loser, he wouldn’t have to dig in your dirty laundry to find two panties, like one of those sick perverts, he wouldn’t have ended up looking like this.

The blonde tried at first to look irresistible, he wanted to lure you into joining him after all, you would have fallen for his charming way in…5 minutes? Atsumu did his calculations.

So sad he is so bad at math.

Not only you didn’t even glance at him, but his mind also numbed just after sniffing the scent in your panties. He soon licked the cotton of your panties where he could slightly taste your essence and something more…sour? Is this piss? And why is it turning him on so much?

Atsumu’s head stops thinking, letting this whirlwind of degeneracy engulf him; if doing 10 makes you go to hell then why not do 1000?

He frees his cock from his shorts, not even bothering to pull them off completely, to stroke his aching cock with another pair of your used panties, his hands try to match the rhythm of his tongue, hot muscle still licking up and down the wet cotton, in the desperate search of your flavor that always send a tickle down his spine and make his hips snap up. If only you were really sitting on his face right now, thighs trembling while his fingers leave indents in them, Atsumu is sure that he’d be able to make you mewl with pleasure.

Atsumu pushes his pinkish sweatshirt in his mouth, teeth keeping it up as if his life depended on it. Maybe if he shows his abs, now covered in a thin layer of sweat your willpower will crumble. He opens his eyes, his lashes a bit sticky from newly formed tears, and what he sees?

You are looking at him. Too bad that the disinterest is dripping from your face.

That’s how he finds himself at the starting point, a too-loud moan escaping his throat, reddish lips hanging open, sweatshirt now crumpled and wet sticking on his chest, some of his blonde curls stick on his forehead, but Atsumu doesn’t move them away, hands too busy either stroking his cock or touching his hard nipples.

“You look like a real whore ‘Tsumu.”

“Ah-“ You finally step closer to him, but still out of reach. “Please h-help me” His doe-eyes shining for all the tears spilling on his reddened cheeks, he sits lower on his armchair so he can get his hips near you, each thrust more desperate, his dick twitching begging for your attention.

“I never took you for the begging type.” Your voice is so cold and disinterested, your disappointment only excites him more.

“Please, please-“ A louder moan reverberates in his living room, the music from your game dulled long ago.

“You are really a pathetic guy.” You reply, your feet pushing against his hard-on, making your boyfriend groan in pleasure. “Really, really pathetic” you slowly say, never leaving your position, keeping him afar.

“Y-Yes I am! I’m just r-really disgusting boy.” He bucks his hip on your feet, the rhythm is random and you can sense his orgasm approaching.

So you just step on it harder, your heel pushing hard at the base of his cock.

Seems like it was the right decision, Atsumu’s eyes roll back, and his tongue lolls out staining his face even more with drool. His dick twitches one last time, cum stains both his abdomen and his sweatshirt, his red tip still covered in little globes of cum.

 “Are you fine dear?” You finally get closer to him, you remove your feet and pat his head, brushing away the blonde curls to look at him better.

“Do you need something? Water? A warm bath?” Your voice is warm and soothing this time, helping him come back to Earth after the intense orgasm.

He looks at you, eyes still a bit misty, and gulps before talking “Can we cuddle?” His voice is broken and rough. You smile, your hands softly caressing his chin “Yes, dear, let me pick a napkin before.”

You clean him up the best you can before joining him on the armchair, that cracks from the new added weight.

A few minutes of silence go by, some sweet kisses exchanged but nothing more, his breath and heartbeat still.

“You don’t think I’m pathetic, right?” Atsumu looks at you, a smirk gracing his face.

…

“Hey, hey, (Y/n) answer me- where are you going, hey!”

Some things are better left unanswered.

[nsf-watch]

SYMWEAVER SEX HEADCANONS

!! 18+ • MDNI

!! SubTop! Niran, DomBottom! Satya, p in v, Bondage, Teasing, DS dynamics, Unprotected Sex (wrap it up), Orgasm / Creampie, Face Sitting, uhm - face sitting after creampie ? what do I mark that as?

!! gods they're so cute together..

SYMWEAVER WHO...

Loves teasing each other in public, even if one's more subtle than the other.

"You're looking good enough to ravish tonight, Satya, dear.. I might just have to take you home right now."

Followed by a subtle glance from Satya, letting Niran know who's in charge tonight.

His face for sure turns red in response, thinking of all the things she'll do to him.

Nothing crazy, of course.

Mostly being wrapped up in her light, tied to the bed as she teases his cock.

Her tongue lightly caressing his shaft, her hand teasing his tip.

And every time he thrusts his hips up a little, she squeezes his thigh.

"Patience is a virtue you still haven't learnt, I see."

The shivers that send down his spine as she finally gets on top and sinks her pretty pussy on his aching dick.

She doesn't ride fast, no, she takes her time.

She considers it payback for keeping her up late during their years at the academy.

Satya's hips just grinding against him before she bounces at just the right pace, her moans soft compared to Niran's desperate ones.

He tugs against the constraints on him, silently begging to just hold her.

He goes crazy each time she drags his nails across his chest, his eyes rolling in the back of his head.

She always stops her movements when she notices that, grabbing his chin and making her look at her.

"Eyes on me. Unless you want me to stop?"

"I'm sorry.. You feel so good and I-"

"Eyes. On. Me."

"..Yes, ma'am.."

"Good boy."

And she keeps going, a little slower now just to tease and punish him for looking away.

She keeps his chin in her grasp though, 1000%

She shakes and shivers as she's filled with his hot cum, desperate pants as she keeps riding him all the way through his orgasm

She does free him from his restraints to only sit on his face after.

"Good boys always clean up their messes.."

And he does so willingly, slopping away at her wet and seman-filled cunt.

Her fingers play with her clit as she rides his face until she reaches her own peak, his name falling from her lips as she does..

After-cuddles are always a must after cleaning up together.

Niran usually covering Satya's face in kisses as she runs his fingers through his hair.

[sorcerous-caress]

Glad to see that Artemy is still down bad with his puppylove crush for Rubin in P1

Fellas is it gay to tell your platonic best friend how a dirty suggustive word escaping from his kissable lips literally made shivers run down your spine?

This was their first ever conversation after the long series of murder threat letters Rubin sent to him

Artemy read those and thought damn my bff missed me <3 better go check on him and make a dirty joke hehe just like old times

Bonus: Grief holds the crown for the ultimate Artemy simp even in P1

At least in P2, you were childhood friends, but here? You're just strangers. Pull yourself together Grief, you just met this guy! And pick your jaw off of the floor

Artemy: call me soft again and I'll break your jaw

Grief: Awoogha 🔥🔥🔛🔝🔛🔝🗣💯💥🗣💯💥

Artemy: And I killed some of your guys.

Grief: !!!!! Did they pick on you!!!!

Artemy: y-

Grief: Then consider it on the house, big boss. Especially just for you, a gift from me to you, beautiful guy. Don't even worry about it or apologise. Actually, say less sweetheart. From now on, you have free rein to murder as many of my goons as you wish blondie. You're worth 100 guys NAY 1000 NAY 10000 guys just for you. Wanna a gun? Want some bullets? I even have shoes that are your exact size. Don't ask why. You know I always admired and respected your father. You should definitely come talk to me more so that I may drop lore about him in exchange for your time and company wink wink. I know I said wink wink out loud, don't mind it, sweetness.

[kick-a-long]

My friend puts together end of the year album rankings. I asked him if I could share it here and it’s pretty awesome. Check it out.

Best Albums of 2024

1. MJ Lenderman - Manning Fireworks (A beach house up in Buffalo and a houseboat docked at the himbodome)

2. Rosali - Bite Down (Rosali and Jim Schroeder’s guitar explosions)

3. Waxahatchee - Tigers Blood (my spine’s a rotting 2x4)

4. Advance Base - Horrible Occurences (intruders and ghosts)

5. The Decemberists - As it Ever Was, So it Will Be Again (wait for the reapers to mow)

6. Geordie Greep - The New Sound (jazz rock for creeps)

7. Mount Eerie - Night Palace (winter on a vacation island)

8. Cindy Lee - Jubilee (geocities Twin Peaks)

9. Chelsea Wolf - She Reaches Out to She Reaches Out to She (goth metal trio hop)

10. Foxing - Foxing (Carson MTV, Bizkit NYE, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK)

11. Merce Lemon - Watch Me Drive Them Dogs Wild (seeds between all my teeth)

12. Jessica Pratt - Here in the Pitch (a decaying lost record)

13. Vampire Weekend - Only God Was Above Us (I Scream Piano)

14. Jack White - No Name (like a White Stripes)

15. The Smile - Wall of Eyes (like a Radiohead)

16. Blood Incantation - Absolute Elsewhere (Prog metal for waking)

17. Adrianne Lenker - Bright Future (sadness as a gift)

18. This is Lorelei - Box for Buddy, Box for Star (all fucked up)

19. Fontaines D.C - Romance (an inhaler for a panic attack)

20. The Lemon Twigs - A Dream Is All I Know (1 in 1000 beach boys imitations sound this good)

21. Glass Beach - Plastic Death (the soundtrack to Metropolis)

22. Beth Gibbons - Lives Outgrown (Portis-folk)

23. Los Campesinos! - All Hell (a psychic wound)

24. Katy Kirby - Blue Raspberry (cancer has entered the chat)

25. The Cure - Songs of a Lost World (a fragile thing)

26. Mannequin Pussy - I Got Heaven (loud bark, soft bite)

27. Hurray for the Riff Raft - The Past is Still Alive (two weeks just to catch the Buffalo)

28. Friko - Where We’ve Been, Where We Go From Here (Bright Eyes-core)

29. Being Dead - EELS (Godzilla Rises)

30. Magdalena Bay - Imaginal Disk (chill wave pop)

31. Father John Misty - Mahashmashana (an accidental dose with a drop of Imagine Dragons)

32. Arab Strap - I’m totally fine with it don’t give a fuck anymore (bliss?)

33. Cloud Nothings - Final Summer (reliable post-hardcore)

34. Cassandra Jenkins - My Light, My Destroyer (Sophisti-Kate Bush)

35. Tyler, the Creator - Chromakopia (intruder noid)

36. Tucker Zimmerman - Dance of Love (the idiot’s maze)

37. Christopher Owens - I Wanna Run Barefoot Through Your Hair (welcome back Chrissybaby)

38. Ben Seratan - Allora (screaming guitars)

39. Fred Thomas - Window in the Rhythm (a guitar left in the rain)

40. Jake Xerxes Fussell - When I’m Called (don’t place your affections on a green growing tree)

41. The Smile - Cutouts (like a Radiohead)

42. Young Jesus - The Fool (shit, I feel like a million bucks. I think I’ll take the bus down to New Orleans. Yeah I think I’ll buy some drugs)

43. Storefront Church - Ink & Oil (Scott Walker-core)

44. Parannoul - Sky Hundred (Korean shoegaze)

45. MGMT - Loss of Life (a bubblegum dog)

46. SUMAC - The Healer (Sludge Metal for sleep)

47. Julia Holter - Something in the Room She Moves (spinning these morning)

48. Haley Heyndrrickx - Seed of a Seed (a garden)

49. Sour Windows - Revival of a Friend (Midwest emo)

50. Dummy - Free Energy (Baggy Madchester)

[easygame12]

aviator-download.com

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Nectar of the Gods || Albert Wesker

A/n: in honor of the RE 4 remake Wesker. Please enjoy.

Warning(s): RE 4 Wesker, GN reader, hate fucking, short one-shot, oral (m).

No Minors Allowed!!

You can hardly contain your moans; it's a good thing that no one is around to hear the filthy noises pouring from your mouth. As if anyone would question your superior. 

Regardless, this isn't meant to be. 

Your work with the Organization is surrounded by secrecy. But for a few weeks, you have been tasked with assisting a former scientist turned traitor, Albert Wesker. 

He's egotistical…a prude of a superior, but hot in a wicked sort of way, unlike any man you've ever met. Those glasses he wears annoy you, wearing them indoors no matter how dim the lighting in the facility is; 'Chopard', you reckon - 500 to 1000 a pair, because you know his majesty can afford it. 

Then there is the way he carries himself as if he is a God clad in a form-fitting gray suit. Despite your distaste for the man, he looks good enough to eat and he knows it; he flaunts it in your face; the cocky shit. 

So it's no surprise when he flat-out asks you if you want to fuck him, you don't beat around the bush with your answer. 

“Riding your cock would be more pleasant than hearing your sad attempts at a rude analysis whenever you're feeling particularly nasty." 

And so here you are, channeling all your irritation for the man as you ride him, clutching the leather gun straps buckled around his sturdy shoulders to keep your pace hard and rough. It helps that Wesker isn't sitting like a lazy frat boy, thrusting his hips to match your pace, which he seems to have no problem doing. 

Your thighs are a trembling mess when you reach your orgasm, arching your back as intense waves of pleasure overtakes every nerve in your body. Warm tears gather in your eyes but you blink them away and lean your head down to capture his lips. 

A snarky grin tempts you to stand up and walk away, but the moment he opens his mouth, you are ensnared. He's exquisite, a taste so saccharine you fear too much will rot your teeth. You want more. 

The burn in your thighs pulls a groan from you and you tremble in exertion, but Wesker pulls your weight, a notion that furthers your annoyance, and slowly thrusts into you so that you can savor his taste without interruption. 

How generous. 

A sudden alert draws your attention to the screens behind you as a call comes in. Wesker tightens his jaw and motions for you to get off him. You consider leaving, but the completionist in you keeps you from doing so. 

Once you're off him, you sink to your knees between his legs. Wesker raises a thin brow in response. 

“I can always leave you with your hand," you state, daring him to question you. 

His jaw tightens and instead, he leans forward and answers the call. 

“I've obtained 'the Amber'," the voice of a woman declares. 

You tune out Wesker's response, taking his cock into your mouth. The taste of you mixes with your saliva as you sink to the base, angling your head to keep from banging it on the underside of the desk as you bob your head.

A low hum pours from His Majesty, gracing the words that effortlessly follow; something about the lives in the balance of his plan. You don't necessarily hear the entire thing, focusing on the task at hand. Even when the call abruptly ends, you ignore the stunning blond until a hand rests on the back of your neck, fingers slowly sliding into your hair. Your eyes nearly roll back when he tightens his hold on your scalp, turning your head at the perfect angle to witness the expression on your face as he cums, coating your mouth. 

You swallow the mess, turning your eyes to Wesker as he uses his free hand to part your swollen lips. Sticking out your tongue, you show him that not a drop is left. He seems pleased, but a hint of irritation knits his brows. 

“Don't be disrespectful," Wesker utters. His baritone voice sends shivers down your spine. “Say thank you."

Is he serious? Of course, he fucking is. His Majesty isn't the joking type.

You tighten your hand into a fist, narrowing your eyes. It's fine. You're the bigger person here; he's nothing more than a nail looking to get knocked into place. 

“I have to give credit where it's due. At least you weren't a lousy fuck."

Wesker tightens his jaw but grins, releasing you. 

Standing, you readjust your clothes and saunter towards the door. 

“Forget what you heard, or not…it doesn't matter," Wesker states.

His tone is threatening, but you merely grin. 

“Every wall has eyes."

The powers that be already know his plans. They could stop him, but they merely wish to watch. His inevitable downfall will be sweet. 

You wet your lips. Perhaps even sweeter than him. 

[filmtv2022]

The Light in the Storm

Pairing: Aziraphale x Reader

**I did my best to keep the reader gender-neutral in this one.

Synopsis/Lead Up: Metatron has called Aziraphale back to Heaven leaving you and Crowley to pick up the pieces on Earth. In Heaven, Zirah believes he is making lasting change. Little does he know that things are worse than ever. With Aziraphale preoccupied, the Metatron has a group of angels sent to remove the threat that is Anthony J. Crowley from the playing field… for good. Having fulfilled their task, you are left all alone to pass the time until they come for you too. Unable to move forward, and unwilling to let Heaven dictate how you’ll leave this world, you vowed to avenge Crowley’s death. Using any means necessary, you lured the angels away from society. With no one around to see the carnage, you eliminate those who took your demon (and your angel) from you.

Warnings: Mentions of suicide/taking one’s life through holy water + blood + illusion to torture/murder + Dark fic (with just a little comfort at the end) + grief

A/N: This is kinda dark, so please use some caution when reading it. There is some comfort in the end and the reader does survive the ordeal. Additionally, for this fic, the reader is a demon that has been living with Aziraphale and Crowley for 1000s of years. Also, the reader uses some type of blade that can make an angel bleed but it also kills them if they are stabbed (think Supernatural kinda… but not really). And, as always, I apologize for any mistakes.

Driving rain pelted the windows leaving all that sat in the darkness beyond the thin glass in shadows. The tiny cabin groaned in agony as heavy-handed gusts beat against it. Hours had passed since the storm began to rage and it showed no visible signs of slowing. The lights flickered nervously as though trembling in the wake of the lightning and its ever-consistent partner. Thunderous tremors wracked the aging structure filling the deadly still with momentary life, but it wasn’t enough to drive out the oppressive stench of death that gripped the cabin.

A metallic oder clung to the air, its sting was matched only by the warmth of the blood that dripped in heavy lines along your fingertips and pooled in crimson puddles beside your feet. The sharp clatter of a steel blade smacking against the wooden floor echoed alongside the storm as it fell from your grip. Free of its hold, you drifted toward the large window near the front door. Your bare feet struggled to grip the gore-soaked floorboards. Layers of dried and fresh blood mixed in sticky smears and pools. Blankly you stared out the window overlooking the front drive of the cabin.

The white crash of lightning illuminated the muddy drive and the slick black outline of the Bentley parked nearby. You pressed your crimson-stained forehead and palms to the glass letting your eyes slip shut as Crowley's agonized screams sounded violently in your memory. Losing control of your resolve, what remained of your fragile hold on reality slipped away into the abyss. The air inside the room crackled with electricity and the stink of ozone overpowered the omnipresent presence of death. Rage tore down the length of your spine as a scream ripped from your lungs. Your head flew back and your body arched. Your arms flung wide, as flaming red light radiated in waves from your body.

Turning away from the window to observe the scene of your slaughter, electricity surged through the tiny space smashing wildly into everything it touched shattering it all beyond repair. Slowly, the strength it took to wield such power drained from your limbs forcing you to the ground. Your knees crashed into what remained of the now broken floor with a sickening crunch. Pain radiated through your body forcing the rest of the air from your depleted lungs.

Gasping, your shoulders heaved and your face came up to meet the sky that now was visible through the broken roof. Icey rain whipped against you, soaking through your bloodstained clothes and drenching your onyx wings. The droplets tried to wash away the ichor that coated your skin, but there was nothing strong enough to wipe away the evidence of your sin.

In a near whisper, you spoke toward Heaven, “Aziraphale, I'm so sorry.” His name was a plea… an unanswered prayer. With eyes shut and nothing left to say you reached into the pocket of your jacket, the material was stuck together with blood and water. Delicately you gripped the vial, its weight was hardly enough to register. Freeing it from its hiding spot, you worked blindly to remove the cork, allowing it to drop from your fingers.

With an unsteady hand, you brought the vial of holy water to your lips. Heaving a ragged breath you moved to tip it back, but the soft touch of another forced you to halt. Your eyes snapped open, and the vision before you was too much to fathom. Aziraphale knelt in the wreckage, the bloody water staining the creamy white of his suit an jarring scarlet as his hand wrapped softly around your wrist preventing you from ending it all.

“Aziraphale…” his name fumbled from your lips in a daze. Your free hand came up to caress his face. Tracing along the curve of his cheek, your head swam still unable to believe that he was real. Letting go of the touch, you sat stone still.

Taking advantage of your distraction, he carefully slid the vial from your grip and replaced the cork before slipping it inside his jacket. With both hands free, he pulled you close. Settling a wide palm on your waist, he watched as your eyes fell to where he touched you. Needing to see you more clearly, he cupped your face, guiding you gently to look at him.

The piercing blue of his eyes met the dead black of yours. Nothing human remained in your gaze as he held your focus on him. Tenderly, his thumb swept in an arc along your cheekbone smearing a streak of gore.

“My dear…” Zirah's voice faltered.

Tilting your head, your eyes swept over the angel taking in his soft edges and heartbroken countenance. Whispering, Aziraphale spoke your name. The sound of it seemed to stir something dormant inside of you. Raising your hands, you pushed against his chest testing the sturdiness of him beneath your touch.

“Aziraphale?” Yet again you spoke his name.

“It's me, I'm here.” Aziraphale's hands settled on top of yours, dulling the tremble as you held onto him for dear life.

Hearing his response, your eyes locked in on him. The dazed stupor gave way to bone-deep agony. You gripped his lapels violently, bunching the fabric in your fists as you began rocking back and forth in anguish. A guttural moaning cry rumbled deep in your chest as the pain and grief became too heavy to hold.

Leaning forward, you rested your forehead on his chest as his strong arms encircled your body and pressed you tightly to him. The force of your sobs shook the pair of you, but it didn't matter, he wasn't letting you go… not this time… not after all this. There was no Heaven or Hell, there was just you and him. He'd made the mistake of leaving before and it had cost him dearly. And he'd be damned before he'd lose you too.

[ikeromantic]

For your 1K follower celebration, could you do Motonari, jewel, and 😤?

Thank you!~

Alright, Noni! I couldn't help but think of the start of Motonari's route with this. I hope you enjoy! Approx. 1000 words of a certain naughty pirate, a jewel, and some rage inducing moments ^_^

Motonari attended the secret auction with his usual mix of nerves and bravado. He was a merchant prince, a warlord, and the God of Deceit. The hectic chaos of a blackmarket auction was his kinda vibe. He swaggered in and took a spot close to the stage. 

There was supposed to be something special up for grabs tonight. Something precious, a stolen treasure. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. 

The auction began with the usual trash. Gold and silver and jade. Silks and paintings. He bid on a few, things that caught his eye, pretties to decorate his shipboard cabin or to send back with Hiroyoshi. 

He was beginning to get bored, wondering if the rumors hadn’t wasted his time. But something - or rather someone - grabbed his attention. A woman, bound and gagged, stood in with the other goods. She wasn’t the only person being sold - there were a handful of others. A strong man with wide shoulders, a thin slip of a boy, and two other women - all unfortunate enough to be swept up in the illicit trade of slaves. But where the others all stood with bowed shoulders, their heads down, she stared out at the audience with fierce anger. 

Motonari felt a moment of sharp recrimination, his conscience telling him he ought to do something. But this was the way the world worked. Only . . . the girl caught his eye. Her eyes blazed with a righteous indignation. Her chin jutted forward stubbornly. And she held her body upright with pride. She was a diamond in the rough. A real gem. 

“And now, for your pleasure, a princess of the Oda. Known as Nobunaga’s favorite, a luck charm and bedwarmer. Starting bids?” The announcer pulled the girl forward and hands went up all over the room. 

Motonari would not be outbid. He wanted this one. She was beautiful. At every raise, her burning gaze would fall on the bidder with disgust. It only made him want her more. To see what lay behind those eyes. And she would be useful too. A tool he might leverage. There were so many possibilities. 

In the end, it cost him more than it should have to buy her, but he won the bidding. “Well, princess, it looks like yer all mine now,” his first words to her as he grabbed her rope and led her away. 

She didn’t deign to struggle, only gave him that ferocious stare that sent a shiver of unease down his spine. 

He took her to his cabin and shut the door behind them. Alone now, and far enough from prying eyes and listening ears, he felt safe to remove her bonds. “Look here, girlie. I’m gonna take yer gag off. If ya scream or start spoutin’ crap, I’ll put it back in again. Savvy?”

The woman gave a curt nod. 

Motonari pulled the gag down with one gloved finger. He could see that she struggled with herself not to bite him. “There. Isn’t that better?”

“You bastard.” She spat the words at him. 

“I might be,” he laughed. Then his expression turned serious. He grabbed her by the jaw, pressing his fingers into her skin until he could see a flash of pain in her eyes. “But bastard or no, I own you now. You’ll do what I say, when I say. Or I’ll do worse than kill you.”

Motonari expected her to look afraid. Perhaps to squeak or quiver. Afterall, he was an intimidating man and she was a small woman, tied and at his mercy. But she smiled instead. “I’m not stupid. I’ll do what you say as long as I must. But the second I have a chance . . . I’ll get free. And you’ll regret every terrible thing you did to me.”

“No one is really free. You should be glad you at least know you’re a slave.” He snorted. “I shoulda guessed you had flowers in yer head. Only an idiot would act brave in your situation.”

She didn’t reply, but something wavered in her eyes. Perhaps she was more scared than she let on. It made Motonari feel a little bad. He rubbed her chin where his fingers had dug in and then let go. Her skin was soft, he could feel that much even through his gloves. He had a mad urge to pull one off just to see how soft her cheek was, but he resisted it. 

The woman was still staring at him with bared hatred. The kind of look that would kill you if it could. He didn’t blame her. She was a jewel and he was treating her like common stowage. Motonari turned away and rummaged in his locker. He wanted to give her something to make up for it. A peace offering, of sorts. 

He found what he was looking for and turned back to face her. The wrath in her expression was still there, but she looked curious too. “I got something for ya. A little reminder.”

The choker he held out was beautiful. A western bit of jewelry, velvet ribbon with a silver clasp. The gem that hung from it was a pink tourmaline, cut in a pear shape. The facets of the jewel caught the light, sparkling beautifully.

He could see she liked it. The slight softening around her eyes, a little curl at the edges of her lips. “It’s a collar,” he said roughly, hiding the warmth he felt behind more comfortable cruelty. 

Motonari leaned forward, fastening it carefully around her neck. “You’re gonna keep it on, all the time. ‘Cause it’s gonna remind you who you belong to. Savvy?” He was close enough to kiss her. The realization made him uneasy, as if he really were the kind of man who bought kidnapped girls to warm his bed. He backed away a step.

She nodded. Her eyes were wide and he caught the beginnings of a tear forming in the corner as she blinked it away. “I told you. I’ll do what you say.”

“Good. Then I’m gonna take off yer bindings. And you are gonna stay put when I do.” He pulled out his knife and cut through the ropes. The woman didn’t run. “Better?”

Her fingers felt along the edge of the velvet ribbon on her neck. “I hate you.” 

He shrugged. “That’s fine. You can hate me, so long as you obey. Now. What do ya want fer dinner?”

[swanno-arts]

👀 🤲 any details about your fallout au gamer

GRIPS YOUR SHOULDERS. can i talk about cygnus and formes' downfalls? can i talk about them being what they once HATED???

okay so this got WAY TOO LONG, I have to splice this into two so here's Cygnus' bit under the cut first!! I'll reblog this and add Formes' after!!

[CW mention of gun violence/injuries and suicide]

Cygnus and The Balancing Act SO, Cygnus! He's the sixth courier from the Mojave Express tasked to deliver packages to Mr. House. Only he has the actual package, the Platinum Chip and because of that he got fucked over by Benny and his gang and was almost left for dead. Thankfully Doc Mitchell saved him even though he has to live with losing one eye and a dreadful amnesia.

Cygnus goes on a wild goose chase to retrieve the package he lost and ends up later in New Vegas. Though he HATED New Vegas as someone who had to survive the hard way and see people die just trying to live while these people are getting high off their asses gambling everything the have. Meeting Mr. House did not make anything better. Distraught and overwhelmed, he told Swanno and Axon (his companions, Swan once being a thief in Primm and Axon being Courier Two) that he'd need some time alone to walk off the stress and that he'll deal with Benny when he's in the right mind to talk things through.

Though, on his lonesome, Cygnus just ends up stumbling into MORE problems. Such as having his entire spine, heart and brain swapped with cybernetics in Old World Blues (though he did get a cool new cybernetic robot eye just because one of the Think Tank guys didn't like an empty face hole?). Got in an entire argument with his own brain and decided to LEAVE it. He's growing more and more distraught and exhausted. My GOD he just want to get this all over with.

THEN, the big kicker, Lonesome Road. Cygnus stumbled into the Divide, and although the place seemed familiar to him, his amnesia just couldn't pin it down. Though, you can IMAGINE the amount of emotions going on in him when he learned that the entire destruction and the creation of the Divide was HIS FAULT. He gave birth to its community, he kept the community alive and YET, it was also him to bring it to its demise. He caused so much hell and he WALKED FREE AWAY FROM IT. Cygnus grew so distraught that he couldn't convince Ulysses to not fire the missile without going down in a fight. As if killing a fellow courier wasn't enough, having to see ED-E sacrifice itself to stop the missile just broke him entirely. He fled the Divide a changed man completely. With the Old Glory in his hands, he decided he'll right the wrongs.

Cygnus returned to New Vegas and stormed into The Tops. Getting access to Benny's room, he waited before he ambushed the poor guy and starts to beat him up senselessly. When Benny begged for mercy, Cygnus shot him twice, on the forehead and on the eye. Snatching the Platinum Chip (and one fun little encounter with Yes Man) he returned to House, demanding his pay (curse his People Pleaser perk, he can't bargain beyond 1000 caps). When House elaborates his plan with the chip, Cygnus simply did as told as he later activated the Securitons (and maybe fuck over Caesar while he's at it). Returning to New Vegas however, he betrays both Yes Man and House, killing House with the strike of the Old Glory. Manipulating his cybernetics, he gains control to House' systems and uses it to control his securitrons in the Battle of Hoover Dam. New Vegas, now independent... sike! Manipulating his cybernetics even more, Cygnus literally wires himself into the system ala House, taking over completely. He enacts what he calls The Balancing Act, a rule for all of New Vegas and the Mojave that EVERYONE is going to live an equal life. There won't be a poor nor a rich, SOMEHOW, everyone has to be in the middle grounds of it. He though YEAH that'll fix everything and everyone's gonna live happily ever after!

Except, no, it can't work that way. The act was so vague and this imaginary middle ground is even vaguer. The Balancing Act was a complete failure and people were MAD about it, but Cygnus... ahem, Mr. Six, had grown oblivious about it while he played dictator and House Part 2. The more people protest or slightly go off the balance, Six would sic a bot on them. Swanno and Axon got wind to the whole crap and when they learned it was CYGNUS that's behind all this, oh boy what the HELL and HOW THE THE HELL did that happened. They tried confronting him once, and Six was kind enough to offer them to stay in the Lucky 38 for several months because hey we're friends and I love you both dearly wanna be my second and third in commands? No? After everything I did for you two? Get out. They both got booted out and oh boy this cannot go on. So both Swanno and Axon planned to confront Six once more.

Axon created a rouse to distract the securitrons while Swanno sneaks his way back into the Lucky 38. Fucking around with the terminals, he finally gained access to where Six was expecting him. Six will threaten Swanno to back out, saying it was for her own good. After debates of the Balancing Act's failure and lots of emotional hell, Six decided that if Swanno won't listen, she can just try to kill him if that's what she wanted so badly. From here, there would be several options.

First Bad End, Swanno chooses to attack Six, initiating a fight. Swanno kills Six and severed his connection to the system, bringing New Vegas and the Mojave back to independence. ... Though, with Six dead, so was Cygnus.

Second Bad End, Swanno tries to reason with Six but failed to pass the needed checks. This will end up with a fight that would also end in Six's death.

Through difficult checks, Swanno manages to reason with Six and convince him to see what he had brought upon. Seeing the reality of the Act, Cygnus snaps back and drops the Six facade. Falling back, he broke into a break down, completely distraught that he was (once again) bringing destruction, this time by his own choice. Swanno attempts to comfort him, but Cygnus insisted that she shouldn't be near him as he tries to sever himself off the system - tripping the security systems as it registered himself being attacked. After disarming the security (through combat), Cygnus finally severs himself off the system, cutting off his control over the securitrons. Swanno attempts to comfort Cygnus once more as he broke down into a sob. Cygnus mentions that what he had done cannot be fixed and he should pay for what he had done. There was no righting his wrongs anymore. Again, Swanno would be given several options to end Cygnus' dilemma.

Third Bad End, either by allowing him or failing to convince him otherwise, Cygnus would commit suicide, claiming death was the only way he could repay everything he had done (referring to not only The Balancing Act, but to the Divide as well).

The Good End, Swanno convinces Cygnus not to take his own life. Instead, he tells him that if he really wanted to disconnect himself to his deeds he could leave (read: exile himself from) the Mojave altogether. Cygnus takes the suggestion but tells Swanno that he'll be going alone, unable to bear the possibility of hurting them again. Swanno refuses and insist that she and Axon would travel with him. Cygnus finally relents and the three of them would make their escape out of New Vegas and the Mojave completely. (Who runs New Vegas now? Who knows, maybe Yes Man came around lol)

The three would end up as wanderers in the greater wastelands with no real destination in mind. Cygnus still finds it hard to disconnect himself from what happened... but he's trying. Really hard.

On their mile long journey across what's left of America... they encounter a peculiar man with his Mr. Handy companion... and a strange feeling of an always lurking gaze.

[theartofdreaming1]

For the weird writing asks and sorry I'm on mobile on the train, can't copy the questions right now but:

4, 15, 16, 35 aaaand 40

Sorry <3

4. What's a word that makes you absolutely feral?

Hmh, I don't know if I really have a specific word like that (or at least can't remember on the spot), but I guess the most recent time I felt like I'd go feral over a word was while watching episode 2 of Pushing Daisies, when we see Ned getting dumped at boarding school and his father's saying good-bye and we get this absolutely cutting narration:

"I'll be back," he lied.

I think I've never felt this strongly over the use of such a simple word as 'to lie" before, but this simple phrase (and word) really felt like a punch to the gut, damn.

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

No, I can't bring myself to write in books; I once just wrote my name on the very first empty page of a book (I think in pencil, even?) and I have felt absolutely horrible about it ever since (it doesn't help that my handwriting is atrocious). If I want to mark some phrases/passages from a book I'm reading, I write them down on a blank index card (complete with page citation) and put that in the book or I use some tiny sticky-notes 😅

The only exception I've ever made without a guilty conscience was writing the inscription of the ring from LOTR into my edition of Heinrich von Kleist's "Die Verlobung in St. Domingo" ("The Betrothal in Santo Domingo"), which I had to read for school xD

Similarly, I can't even fathom dog-earing any book on purpose! I try to keep my books as pristine as possible, even doing my darndest not to open my unabridged edition of Les Miserablés too widely, lest the spine gets more cracks and becomes even uglier (a very futile endeavour, since it is one of those boring black penguin paperback editions and the book is over a 1000 pages thick and you're inevitably gonna get some cracks in the spine, but I just cannot help myself)

And since I don't like taking baths and don't have a tub in my apartment, I don't read in the bath (I also would be terrified of getting my poor book wet).

But at this point in my life I'm mature enough to take a live-and-let-live stance on these things, so I won't judge people who do this to their books too harshly ;) (I can definitely see the appeal of handwritten margins in books, although the concept of dog-earing a book still makes me wince just thinking of it- but as long as it's not my book, it's fine)

16. What's the weirdest thing you've ever used as a bookmark?

Boy, I'll use anything at hand as a bookmark (although now that I have gotten some of the bookmarks I designed myself printed, I usually have something at hand) and since I'm quite messy, an improvised bookmark can be anything - grocery receipts, return receipts from library books, other books, whole comic book issues, empty envelopes, you name it 😅

35. What's your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

Rules, what are rules? 😉🔨 Honestly, I don't think I consciously follow any rules when I sit down to write my little stories - I just bang my head against the keyboard until the words sound like the story that is lodged somewhere inside my brain;- I once had to take a "Writing" exam in which we had to write a strictly structured 250-300 word pro-contra-essay and it was absolute agony - I like my creative writing to be joyful and free (once it gets past my crippling perfectionism and debilitating procrastination, that is ;)

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

I'm always very fond of Emily Dickinson's "Hope":

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all - And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm - I’ve heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never - in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me.

[acertainmoshke]

Summer fest question: So I was reading about Cold Iron and it grabbed my attention because I'm going to be playing a Changeling soon in a World of Darkness game!! Do your Fae look human? Or do they have something distinctly Different™ about them? Do they have any dealings on Earth? Or do they only leave the faerie realm to retrieve Changelings?

@roll-for-twig

Oh, thank you for this question! They do not look remotely human. But because they're beings of magic more than genetics, there is little logic in how they do look beyond being (usually) humanoid. Fae covers an entire genre of beings, so there are exceptions--Fae that are more animalistic or have no easily recognized shape and instead hide and call you away from safety. And there are pixies, who mostly look like humans except for being tiny and with wings.

But the Fae mostly focused on in my stories are the ones of European legend that trick humans, make bad deals, control them with true names, and steal their children. They come to the human realm less often than they used to because it's so very permeated with iron that makes them sick. They do still show up sometimes for deals and trickery. Humans are wiser about this than they used to be, but there are always desperate people. They can get away with "stealing" children because it's not stealing by their definition. Most things require a deal, a transaction, something given in return (even if the meaning is twisted).

The exception is if they voluntarily leave something which is so valuable no contract is needed--such as their own child. The rules are that it must be their own, not another Faerie child. Thus, the ones left are usually ill and weak already, and with all the iron in the world now, the often die young naturally before their human parents ever know they weren't the original. Fae glamour the babies to look human, but that begins to wear off so that by 10 they are usually clearly something else. If they don't die on their own, many more die of neglect or even abuse at the parents who discover a monster living in place of their child. Very few make it to adulthood, but there are those that do. Their aging slows down around puberty, between 11-15 or so, so that they end up living between 300-500 years. Fae in their own realm without the weakening influence of iron can easily live to 1000. The flipside of that is that changelings are both weakened by iron but also build up some immunity so that most things, especially if painted, don't burn them if touched for a short time.

Oh, I forgot to do the actual description part. So they are generally humanoid, 2 arms and 2 legs and 1 head and between 3-8 feet tall. But anything else is up for debate, and they don't bear any resemblance to their parents. The might have skin like bark or like bone or like rock. Or like human skin but in any number of unnatural colors. They might have a hollowed out back with a vine where their spine should be. They could have horns, antlers, leaves for hair, cloth for hair, no hair at all.

Also, notably: although much of their aesthetics have to do with nature, and much of their homeland is made of wild woods and marshes, their magic and culture has nothing really to do with it.

I hope this helped! Feel free to ask me any more questions, and have fun playing a changeling @roll-for-twig