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thefairywithboots · 1 month ago

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And The Gods Made Love (Thor 1!Loki x Fem!Reader)

As requested by @mischiefmaker615, I present to you And The Gods Made Love!

Summary: Reader gets tired of the rowdiness of the feast, and slips off to the library for some peace and quiet. Loki has the same idea, but things don't go as planned.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Smut, sex, oral sex (female receiving), body worship.

Rating: Explicit (minors please DNI)

I hope you all enjoy this fic. I spent several days on it because I wanted it to be better than my last one. Comments and thoughts are always appreciated. :)

I tag @oswildin @mischieffae @bitchy-bi-trash @merakifreedom @kathren1sky-blog

@groovy-lady @trash-panda-kitty @mischief-dream @simone818283 @soulpiercing

@lokisgoodgirl @buttercupcookies-blog @stilleobjection @wolfsmom1 @firedrakegirl

If you would like to be tagged for future Loki fics, just let me know. 👍

The sound of the merriment from the feast faded into the background as I stepped out into the corridor. It was far too loud for me to handle Thor and his friends loudly shouting over each other, smashing their goblets... They had always teased me about not caring much for parties and festivities, about always having such a low social battery. But it wasn't something I could help. I longed for the quiet and solitude of the palace library, preferably with Loki's company.

I quickly but quietly made my way down the corridors of the palace in case Sif came to look for me to drag me back to the feast to try and get me to drink more mead. I would fall on my face after two goblets. Me being a lightweight was another thing they liked to tease me about.

I made it to the doors of the library, hoping to slip in there without making too much noise, but the familiar sound of a silken voice caused me to nearly jump out of my skin.

"Tired of the festivities already, are we?"

I turned to find Loki leaning against the wall of the corridor, so still and casual, that I didn't know how long he had been standing there, watching me. I placed a hand over my heart, trying to calm myself.

We had been meeting each other in secret for the past couple of months, stealing kisses when meeting up in the woods and empty corridors. He never failed to make my heart race when he stood before me, appraising me with those smoldering green eyes.

"I wish you wouldn't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry, love. I saw you leaving the feast and knew I couldn't leave you alone in such a big palace, and let you get lost..." he said while moving closer to me.

I rolled my eyes. "You were tired of the loudness of it all too, weren't you?"

"Of course. I don't like loud gatherings anyway... I can only handle so much of my brother's idiocy." He smirked, his gaze never leaving me.

I felt my cheeks heat up as my hands fidgeted. "I plan to spend the rest of the feast in the library... would you care to join me, my prince?"

A soft chuckle escaped Loki's lips as he stepped forward to practically tower over me. He never failed to make my knees weak with his height, when I was not even short myself. He brought one hand up to gently caress my chin as he lifted my eyes to meet his.

"Nothing would make me happier, love."

We snuck into the library together, the silence of the room during nighttime pressing down on us as we walked through the shelves of books together. The moonlight softly illuminated the large tomes on the towering shelves as it poured in from the tall stained glass windows. The absence of the librarian and other patrons browsing the books made the place feel like a desolate land, filled with forgotten stories.

Being in here alone at night always felt strange to me. It carried a serene peacefulness but at the same time, it felt eerie. Sometimes I could see the shadows dancing in the corners of the room as if the characters from the stories were trying to get free, but when I looked closer, nothing was there. But having Loki with me felt like we had an entire kingdom to ourselves.

I quietly made my way to my favorite armchair near the fireplace, picking up the novel I had been reading. I turned to the fireplace to light it with some flint, but Loki was already using his magic to instantly cause the hearth to burst to life, illuminating that area in a soft orange glow.

Footsteps echoed behind me as he made his way around my chair to peer over my shoulder. I blushed when I felt his warm breath on my neck as his lips ghosted over the shell of my ear. "Loki..."

"Yes, love?"

"What are you doing?"

I could feel him chuckle softly as he brought his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder. "I can't help myself, love. You look simply ravishing."

His voice seemed to go straight through me to the pit of my stomach. I sighed and closed my book, turning to face him. He didn't waste any time and crushed his lips into mine.

I brought my hands up to wound through his silken raven-black hair, kissing him back passionately. Despite our many meetings, his kisses never failed to make my heart race and my thighs tremble.

When I felt his tongue slither its way into my mouth, I couldn't hold back a soft moan. He made a soft sound between a moan and a sigh as his lips trailed down to my neck, leaving small bites there.

"Oh, how I love that sound..."

I shivered slightly. "Loki, don't..."

"Hmm? Don't what?"

"If you leave a mark on my neck, Thor, Sif, and the others are not going to let me hear the end of it."

Loki didn't relent with his kisses. "Mmm... maybe I want to leave my mark on you... let the others know who you belong to."

I couldn't resist him when he talked to me in that voice. It sounded like velvet to my ears, and I felt myself tilting my head to give him easier access to my neck.

"I want you," he whispered against my ear, his teeth gently tugging at my earlobe. The sensation caused a strange sensation in my loins.

I sighed, turning my head. Embarrassment filled me as I felt him leave more intoxicating kisses over my neck and up my face. He noticed my hesitation and looked at me, a frown creasing his handsome face. "Am I hurting you, love?"

I shook my head. "No... I want you too, Loki... but... I-I've never... I don't have any experience with..."

Loki smiled softly and pressed his lips to my cheek gently. "Such an innocent little princess... I know you don't, love... but I can teach you. But only if you want me to."

I closed my eyes and kissed him again, breathing in his scent, trying to memorize every little detail of him. I had always found comfort in his scent; warm and earthy, like the woods on a warm day, but also with sweet floral undertones. It was something no cologne or perfume could ever replicate.

"Yes..." I whispered against his lips. "I want you to show me..."

He smiled against my lips, his breath hot against my skin. "I can give you pleasure that you've never felt before..."

He took my hand and led me over to the sofa, pulling me into his lap. I gasped, wrapping my arms around his neck, trying to keep myself steady. When our lips met again, his hands gently stroked up my sides, as if feeling me up through the fabric of my dress.

When I felt his hands start to unfasten the back of my dress, I froze. He stopped.

"Do you not want to go through with it?"

I could feel my cheeks flame with embarrassment. "I-I do... but... here? What if someone walks in...?"

"No one is crazy enough to be in the library this time of night. No one except for us..." His smile made me melt like putty in his hands. He leaned forward to press his lips to my neck, and the feel of his lips made me shudder. "And if anyone does happen to walk in on us, I can use my magic to make us both invisible."

I closed my eyes, letting him kiss me again. I didn't want to admit that I was scared, but it all felt so strange to me. We'd never done anything more than kissing. But I wanted him, I truly did. Every fiber of my being craved him.

"You don't have to be afraid," he whispered while running his fingers through my hair before pulling me closer by the nap of my neck. "I'll take care of you. I'll guide you through the entire thing. You can trust me."

I nodded, resting my forehead against his. "I trust you..."

Loki's hands unfastened my dress, causing the snug fabric to loosen on me. He gently pulled the dress off my shoulders, pressing kisses to my skin as it was exposed. The warmth from the fireplace kept me from shivering, illuminating my skin with a warm glow.

A wave of self-consciousness came over me at the idea of being exposed to him, and my arms tightened around my midriff. He pressed gentle kisses to my exposed shoulders, his breath teasing my skin.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered against my shoulder as he trailed kisses up my neck. "You are truly the most beautiful woman in all of the Nine Realms. You are befitting for worship, like the goddess you are..."

His voice made me melt against him, my arms loosening from around me. He used this as an opportunity to pull my dress the rest of the way off my shoulders. "Says the god..." I whispered as he kissed down my back and he slid the sleeves off my arms, exposing my breasts.

My dress was now around my hips, and he pulled back to appraise me like he might a fine sculpture. My heart raced in my chest as I brought my arms up to cover my chest, but he shook his head, gently taking my hands into his to stop me.

"My love... if I had my way, you'd rule alongside me as my queen for all eternity. To me, you are a goddess." His lips pressed to my neck, and I felt like I could melt right into his hands. "Don't cover yourself. You're too beautiful. Allow me to worship you instead."

I couldn't speak, I was breathing too heavily, my heart racing erratically in my chest. Loki knelt before me like a devoted worshipper would to his goddess. It was such a strange sight to see him like this. He gently tugged the rest of my dress off my hips, causing it to fall into a pool around my feet.

My face was burning now, my hands covering my face so that I did not have to see his reaction to my naked body.

"My love... look at me," he said gently while taking my hands in his and kissing them gently. I looked down at him, my hair spilling over my shoulders and curtaining my face. He pushed a strand of hair behind my ears. "We can stop any time you want to."

I swallowed thickly. "I want you..."

"Then why do you hide from me? Why do you attempt to cover yourself?"

I bit my lip, bringing my eyes down to our joined hands. "I'm sorry, I just... I've never done this before... I don't... know how..."

He shushed me and gently kissed my neck, sending every nerve of mine on fire. "I'll show you how... but only if you trust me."

I tried to hold back my moan as he nibbled softly on my neck. "I trust you..." I whispered breathlessly as my hands wound through his raven locks.

His arms wrapped around both of my legs as he kissed down my neck until his mouth reached my breasts. I flinched when he took one nipple into his mouth, his green eyes glaring up at me as he gauged my reaction. My cheeks were aflame, and I knew it wasn't because of the fireplace. I leaned my head back, closing my eyes as I tried to focus on the feelings and sensations he was bringing me.

He spent time using his mouth on both of my breasts; kissing them and tugging the nipples into taut points with his teeth. The sensation was overwhelming for me, and I could do nothing but gasp and mewl, and then bite my lip in case someone might walk into the library and hear us.

"Please..." I whined, my hands fisting in his hair, unable to decide if I wanted to push his head away or pull him closer.

Loki brought one of his hands out from underneath my legs and pressed firmly on my clit. My eyes widened as an unbelievable amount of pleasure shot through me. When he started rubbing firm, slow circles, I thought I could see the Nine Realms behind my eyes. I couldn't hold my moans back this time. It wasn't as if I was foreign to this kind of pleasure. I had touched myself before; oftentimes when thinking about him. But the skill and pace at which he did this caused me to writhe and squirm in his arms.

"Does that feel good?" he whispered gently.

I nodded quickly, keeping my eyes screwed shut.

"And how many times have you touched yourself in this exact same way? While thinking about me...?"

I felt the color drain from my face. "S-Stay out of my head!" I snapped. I couldn't believe he was going to use his magic on me here.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he pressed kisses down my chest, traveling down between my thighs. "I apologize, my goddess. Will you forgive me for my transgressions?"

The moment I felt his mouth on my core, I gasped. I could feel his tongue probing at my folds, licking a stripe up my slit before settling on kissing and sucking on my clitoris.

I let out a sultry moan that I had no idea I was capable of making. "O-oh my gods..."

"Does this mean I am forgiven?"

It seemed like such a stupid question in a moment such as this. But he wanted an answer. When he pulled away briefly, I whimpered in frustration. "Loki... don't you dare stop..." My voice then softened. "Please..."

"You didn't answer my question. Am I forgiven?"

I gasped, my head falling on the couch. "Y-yes... just please... keep going..."

He hummed softly before bringing his mouth back to me, his tongue skillfully manipulating my clit. The pleasure I felt was nearly unbearable. My hands fisted back into his hair, and I pulled harder than I had intended. Instead of expressing pain, however, Loki moaned into my core, the sounds muffled by lewd slurping noises. I felt a tightening in my stomach as if I were a spring being tightly wound around the very being that was him. I didn't realize my legs were wrapped so tightly around his neck until I felt my heels dig into his back.

He continued to go down on me, glaring up at me occasionally as he watched my reaction. I let out a few soft moans, despite trying to hold back as much as possible.

I felt like the soft sounds that I was making would echo throughout the library, down the corridors, and into the feasting hall. I could just imagine Thor, Sif, and the warriors three overhearing us and coming to investigate, giggling and jeering like a group of drunken teenagers. If they caught me and Loki in here like this, they'd never let us hear the end of it.

I tried to shove those thoughts out of my head as Loki used both his tongue and his fingers to stimulate my clitoris, rubbing and licking faster. He used his fingers on my clit while alternating between giving my slit thorough licks and my clit firm sucks. He continued these ministrations until the tightening that had formed in my stomach unraveled, causing a wave of pleasure so strong to shoot through me, it felt like I had been taken under by a giant tidal wave, the ocean of ecstasy I was in throwing me around as I was completely powerless to stop it.

I heard an aria of moaning and mewling, and it took me a moment to realize that they were coming from my own mouth. I could feel Loki licking up every drop of my release as my hands convulsed in his hair, pulling hard.

The aftermath of my first orgasm left me dazed. I didn't realize how tightly my legs were wrapped around him until he had to pull them off his shoulders to pull away from me.

He wiped his mouth as he looked down at me, drinking in the sight of me lying on the couch. "Look at you... so limp and satisfied. You look so... exquisite spread out like that. Your breasts and cunt are swollen because of my attention. Your cheeks flushed and lips parted... your hair around you like a halo." He started undoing the buttons of his shirt. "You look every bit of a goddess as I am a god." He slid his shirt off his shoulders, revealing his lithe yet toned chest. I was still so dazed, all I could do was stare at him. "And now tonight, we will witness what happens when the gods make love."

He unfastened his belt, shimmying out of his trousers, the warm glow of the fireplace illuminating his divine figure. He was larger than what I had expected, and for a moment, I wondered how he was going to fit inside me. I wanted to get up off the couch and go to him, but my legs were so weak, I knew I would fall straight on my face.

Loki kicked his trousers to the side, getting down on all fours as he crawled towards me. The idea of what else he might have planned for us made my thighs clench in anticipation. He was soon kneeling in front of me, but instead of burying his face between my thighs again, he grabbed me by the hips and pulled me onto the floor on top of him, adjusting my legs to straddle his waist.

I clutched his shoulders to steady myself as he lifted my hips slightly off his lap to align his cock with my soaked slit. He pushed into me slowly, the feeling of him stretching me causing me to gasp, burying my face in his neck.

"Gods..." I moaned.

"Am I hurting you?" his silken voice whispered in my ear, warming my heart...and my loins.

I shook my head quickly, breathing in sharply, his warm scent filling my senses. He had stilled inside me, giving me time to adjust to his size. "No... I just feel... full."

He wrapped his arms around me, cradling my head like a child's. "I love you. Have I ever told you that before?"

I felt my heart skip a beat at this confession. "No. You haven't."

"Well, now you know. I've looked forward to this moment for so long... I've wanted to be tied to you in every way possible... both in mind... body... soul."

I gasped when I felt him thrust sharply into me, my hands gripping his shoulders. "L-Loki...!"

He groaned as his hands went down to grip my hips, lifting me only to push back into me again. "I love when you moan my name, love..."

I dug my nails into his shoulders, my breathing becoming more labored as his pace gradually increased, his hands controlling the rhythm even though I was on top of him.

Gathering my courage, I rolled my hips against his, a sharp sting of pleasure shooting through me as his cock pushed deeper inside me.

Loki stared up at me, his eyes glazed and his mouth open. "Gods... yes, love... roll your hips against mine... just... like... that..."

I gripped onto him, moving in time with his thrusts. All sense of insecurity or uncertainty had been peeled away from me, awakening a raw, primal need for him, and him alone.

Loki wound one hand through my hair before pressing his forehead against mine. Our breaths mingled together as our moans and heavy breaths made a symphony throughout the library.

My hips continued to bounce on top of his as if they were acting on their own accord. He was so deep inside me, I could feel the tip of his cock brush against my cervix.

I felt that familiar tightening in my stomach again, and the idea of having another powerful orgasm both scared and thrilled me. Loki's breath came faster, and his movements were more hurried as he must have been approaching the edge as well.

"Loki... I-I love you..." I broke out in a hushed whisper as I moved so fast, that my breasts were bouncing wildly.

He grunted, thrusting his hips forward at such a fast pace, my walls clamped hard around his cock while my back arched. I couldn't stop myself from screaming right in his ear during my second climax. One hand convulsed in his hair while the other clawed down his back.

He waited until I was in the throes of ecstasy before taking my nipple back into his mouth and biting down on it. He pumped his hips, allowing me to ride out my orgasm. He finally came, shooting his seed into me as he let the warm release seep through me. He groaned loudly, burying his face in my neck as he rode out his own climax.

When we finally stilled, I felt boneless and limp in his arms. We both lay there on the floor of the library, catching our breaths as we stared up at the ceiling that was adorned with intricate imagery during the daytime but was immersed in darkness with nothing but the dying fire in the hearth dimly illuminating our exhausted bodies.

"You were incredible, darling," he finally told me with his arms wrapped around me tightly. "A natural..."

I breathed in his scent deeply, burying my face in his chest. "Thank you... for showing me..."

His chuckle reverberated through his chest, vibrating against my ear. "You know once is never going to be enough, don't you?"

My eyes widened slightly. Loki took my hips and pulled out of me slowly before setting me gently down on the floor. "Not tonight, obviously. I don't want to render you unable to walk."

He lay down beside me on the floor of the library, using his magic to conjure a thin green blanket to cover both of us with. I was still dazed and exhausted from the evening's activities, but I used what little strength I had left to drape my arm around his waist and cuddle into him. I felt his strong arms encircle around me, pulling me against his chest.

I let out a breathless sound, too drained to laugh. "You're unbelievable."

"Oh? And why is that?" he asked while massaging my scalp idly.

"I had always thought my first time was going to be... painful. And you made me... feel things I never imagined I'd feel."

I barely registered his lips pressing against my forehead. "I guess your body is just made for mine, love... our souls were tailored for one another. And it does get even better than this... that I can promise you."

I tried to fight the sleep, but the steadiness of his heartbeat along with the blaze of the fireplace lulled me into a sated doze. I tried to tell myself that if we stayed here when dawn came, we'd be caught by the librarian, or even more embarrassing, his mother. The mere idea of the situation mortified me.

Loki must have been listening to my thoughts because he pushed a strand of hair over my shoulder. "Rest, little one. The feast is still ongoing, and I will have us out of here before dawn. You don't have to worry about us being caught."

I was too exhausted to snap at him and tell him to stay out of my head. I instead gave into the lull of his heartbeat against my ear as it started to slow, and the slow dimming of the fireplace as I gave in to my exhaustion and slipped into the comfort of sleep in his arms.

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson x reader #smut #fluff #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #thefairywithbootslibrary

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skzdreamer13 · 1 month ago

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Rest

LeeKnow Cuddle Time 🖤

Minho x Reader

Minho's turn for the cuddle time Chapter!

Thank you @intrikatie, my love for ideas! ♥︎

Cuddle Time Masterlist ~ Here

Info ~ fluff, cuddling

“Ugh, Finally!” You shout as you step out of the passenger side of the car, leaning back with your arms up in the air to stretching your back with a loud ‘ahhh’

Two hours in the car isn’t very long but it was uncomfortable nonetheless.

"I'll get the tent set up" Minho says as he walks around from the drivers side and plants a quick peck on your cheek.

He smiles fondly at you and walks around to the trunk of the car to start unloading.

After about an hour and a half of setting up you both finally rest in your respective chairs, next to one another with a campfire blazing a few feet in front of you.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" You say getting up excitedly and running over to the car.

Minho raises an eyebrow at you, but you are too preoccupied to notice. When you return you have a large thermos in your hands and as you walk towards him, the inquisitive look on his face still hasn't dissipated.

"Hot chocolate silly! Remember I packed it this morning." You say and excitedly plop back down in your camping chair to pour a cup of hot cocoa for each of you.

"Oh yeah! That's what you were doing? That's sweet." He smiles at you softly as you hand him his mug, and he takes it. He may not be as expressive as most but you cherish when he is, as it's such a rarity. Almost like an occasion. They way his lips curl upwards and his teeth peak out, a cute soft gummy smile that makes him look like an adorable bunny.

For awhile you both sit in a comfortable silence, drinking hot chocolate, watching and listening to the crackle of the fire. One of your hands are intertwined with one of his, dangling your arms slightly over the armrest of your chairs. Anything to be closer to one another.

His thumb is softly rubbing circles into the skin on the back of your hand as he takes a big sip and finishes his drink. As he lets go of your hand to set his cup down, a loud clap of thunder sounds around you.

You jump slightly not expecting the loud, almost booming sound. A wide smile paints his lips and a chuff leaves him as he finds your reaction endearing.

Your eyebrows knit in annoyance and you push his arm slightly as a small laugh leaves him. He gets up and plants a kiss on your forehead before reaching his hand out for you to grab.

You place your hand is his warm grasp and let him guide you out of your chair. You both stand at the end of the covering, that the tarp you set up earlier, provides as the rain starts to pour down.

Minho wraps his arms around your middle as you lean back into him, your mug of hot chocolate warm in your hands as he rests his chin on your shoulder. You both love to just watch the rain together, the sound of water beating down bringing you both peace.

Peace brings relaxation and relaxation brings drowsiness. You start to slump in his hold, laying more of your weight back into him, your head leaned back into his shoulder and the now empty mug is held loosely between your hands. Feeling you start to grow heavy in his arms, Minho grabs the mug from you.

"Let's go to bed." he says and puts the mug away so no critters get at it in the night.

You shuffle over to the tent and are grateful that you both worked so hard earlier to have everything set up as you can just lay down and rest not with no preparations.

You lay down in what is basically a pillow/blanket fort. Four or five blankets on the large air mattress in the tent, dim light from a battery power gives just enough illumination to the small sleeping space. You get under the many blankets, and as Minho enters the tent and zips it close behind him, you reach your hands up making 'grabby hands' at him.

A smile graces his beautiful lips and he crawls into bed beside you. You snuggle in close to his chest letting his distinct smell surround and relax you. His arms wrap around you, he instantly makes you feel safe and attended to.

"Thank you, for making the time to do this with me." Your voice is soft, just above a whisper so he can still hear you over the pitter patter of rain that still comes down above you.

"I'll always make time for you." His arms wrap around you tighter with his words and you feel his sincerity through it.

Slowly you fall asleep surrounded by his warmth and soft rain around you.

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bump1nthen1ght · 6 months ago

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Attention to Detail (M!Reader x M!Demon)

Pairing: Male!Demon Cosplayer x Male!Demon

Genre: Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Flirty, Fluffy

Word Count: 2563 words

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Halloween is a great time to subtly flex your cosplay skills, pouring hour and hours into your costume. You’d even found an occult book at a second-hand store for reference! At a house party, someone pays special attention to all your hard work.

Request: I’m so glad you’re doing well and good!

Can I request a Male Demon x Male Demon Cosplayer on halloween night? Cosplayer could think that the demon is just another dude unaware of the actual danger he’s in?

and maybe could the demon praise and love cosplayer for cosplaying their kind and getting all the little details just right? 🥹

Sometimes, house parties aren’t so bad.

Sure, they could be crowded, smelly, and way too loud. But that was often a by-product of teenage stupidity and desperation; too many bodies crammed into one place, scrambling for beer and faking adulthood. As an adult they get a lot more tolerable. Comes with practice, you suppose.

This halloween house party has been great so far. You’d come with a group of friends who'd all split up, leaving you to find more drinks in the kitchen, but it wasn’t super stifling. You’d actually gotten a lot of compliments on your costume too, a little ego boost to ease you into socializing with all the strangers.

This kitchen is nice as well. Spacious, lots of counter space, some really nice cooking ware. The kinda thing you appreciate more as an adult. The walls helped block out a lot of the music as well, a perfect hiding hole to refill your beverages and recharge your battery for a second. And adjust your costume. God, leather and sweat do not mix.

You take the time and admire your costume-paint, several runes decorating up and down your bare arms. The paint held up pretty well after dancing for so long, the intricate lines still being cohesive. Your body paint had begun to chafe and smudge a little at your knees and elbows, but luckily were hidden beneath your many leather accessories.

“Ow, fuck!”

A voice snaps you from your admiration, a shadowed figure with a red solo cup in his hand, now rubbing his forehead.

“Damned horns. These infernal houses are too small…” He doesn’t seem to notice you at all when he ducks his head and enters the kitchen. It makes sense, you’re probably under his line of sight because holy fuck this guy is tall.

You're not the best frame of reference, still sitting on the counter as you are, but he’s pushing 6 '6, maybe even 6' 7. Not including the horns, which seemed to add an extra 3 inches of height alone. You wonder what they’re made of to support their bulk. They stay pinned to his head well too, despite the bump. His paint is immaculately done, dark purple showing no signs of fading or chipping away.

“You need some ice?”

That catches his attention, your quiet voice somehow making this absolute giant of a man jump out of his skin. His eyes are wide, yellow sclera glowing in the dark.

Gotta ask where he got those contacts. They look so real.

Said eyes go up and down, his nose twitching as he takes a deep breath. His face crinkles. Jeez, did you smell that bad? You’d made sure to wear deodorant!

“No…I am alright.” He rubs the sore area again. “It’s just the third time it’s happened. Who lives in this house? Imps?”

That gets a snort from you.

“I think you're just tall, dude. Those horns are killer though, totally worth a casual head injury.”

The tall cosplayer stands a little bit taller, finally relaxing and properly looking you in the eye.

“Thank you. I like..” His eyes narrow, “..yours too.”

You brush a hand across your clip-on horns, gentle enough to not mess with the paint. You had set it, but those hours of shaving down the foam and painting were not to go to waste. “Thanks, not that sturdy but I figured I wouldn’t be headbanging too much tonight.”

The man goes silent, eyes now locked on your arms. You twist your forearm, wondering if maybe the paint had smudged while you weren’t looking.

“Those are incredible.” The man is able to cross the length of the room in just one stride, now firmly in your bubble. You figure he must be a little tipsy and not realize, so you brush it off. Hard to be mad when you’re getting complimented.

“Thanks, man. It was hard getting the shapes just right in the mirror. But I think I did an okay job.”

“You did a fantastic job.” He eyes the specific curves of one rune, the more intricate one on your inner wrist. “People often mess this one up, you see. They forget the toz’goth.”

He gestures to a small arrow-like shape protruding out of the side of the rune.

“Is that how you say it?” The book you had copied from hadn’t had many English sections, most being in a script unrecognizable to you or Google Translate. “Good to know.”

“May I?” The man gestures towards your forearm, palm out and stretched open to hold. You quirk up an eyebrow. You don’t even know this guy's name and he’s already asking for a feel?

But he has been giving me a lot of praise, sooooo.

It’s a mixture of the alcohol and the need for approval that has you nodding, setting your arm into his palm. You finally notice his long, sharp black nails as they gently wrap around your wrist, hand ensconcing it in its size. A textured thumb brushes across your inner wrist. A (hopefully) impercitable shiver runs down your spine.

Can’t say I hate this.

The man mutters under his breath as he traces more and more of the runes, nodding approvingly. You try not to shake with giddy.

“The detail you’ve managed with just a paintbrush is astonishing.” His low voice does pleasant things to your stomach, eyes still locked in thought.

“Thanks, I got a nice set for Christmas. One benefit of being the ‘artist’ of the family, I guess.” You snort, thinking back to all the cheap sets you’d gotten over the years. The thought was appreciated, if nothing else. “I buy the paint in bulk, it does great for really long wear time. I can send you the link, if you want.”

The man just hums, eyes now crawling farther up your arm to your biceps, then to your shoulders. It lands on your neck and you swear the man darts out his tongue to lick his lips when he lands on your pulse. Your stomach flips again.

“My name's ____, by the way. What’s yours?”

The man's eyes go slightly wide, a smirk curling up the sides.

“Galvith, the Torturer.”

“Ah, much cooler than mine already.” You play long, a little salty he didn’t give you his real name when you gave yours, but whatever. Maybe he’s just really method with his cosplays, or a more private person in general. “It’s a shame, left all my torturing stuff at home. Otherwise us demons could have had some real fun.”

That gets a laugh, a shockingly boisterous laugh. You see the hints of sharp canines, surely fake, that almost glint in the low light.

“Yes, I bet we could.” Galvith chuckles to himself, almost like he’s remembering an inside joke. “I’d be the brawn, you’d be the brains behind the operation?”

“Well, if you insist.” You throw your hand in a faux sign of humility. “Just didn’t want you to waste all those muscles, big guy.” Patting his chest is a good way for you to subtly feel his chest, and wow are those pecs prominent. Gotta respect the hustle, Galvith is a brick shithouse.

Galvith takes the compliment easily, going the extra mile and flexing his bicep, which is almost as big as the honeydew melon sitting not too far from you. Thank god you’re sitting, or else you’d have probably swooned already.

“Think we’d have to get you a different outfit though. Cargo shorts and a graphic tee aren’t really giving ‘torturer’.”

“And I suppose all of this is?” Galvith flicks at a tassel on your leather vest. “Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of leather?”

“Hey man, don’t hate the look! What kind of torture-expert would I be if I didn’t bring style to the gig?”

“A messy one, that’s what.” Galvith takes a step back eyeing your whole outfit, from your vest to your ripped jeans to your combat boots with studs. “You’re less tortue-expert and more Incubus. All style and,” He eyes up your exposed clavicle, tracing it with his eyes, “-debauchery.”

The word feels so perfect coming out his mouth, like it was molded by it. This hard seltzer must be stronger than you thought, cause you can’t remember the last time a total stranger had you this horny.

“Well maybe I’m looking to change positions. Heard it’s much cushier, being an Incubus and all.”

Gavith chuckles, eyes once more rolling up and down your body. Goosebumps pepper the back of your neck, a primordial something settling in your gut. You're not sure if it’s a good or bad thing.

“You’ve certainly got the looks for it, little one.” He clicks his teeth, fake fangs and all. You’re impressed by the durability, and how he doesn’t seem to speak with a lisp with them in.

You find yourself getting lost in his contacts, yellow and slitted. They don’t seem to be irritating him at all, and you add it to the list to ask what his prescription is. It’ll be hard to remember though, when he places a hand right by your thigh, enclosing into your space.

“Do you like to dance, my little Incubus?”

“Y-yeah.” You swallow the lump in your throat, once again getting lost in his hot gaze, in that sultry look. “Yeah, I like to dance.”

“Good.” A clawed hand settles on your lower back, pushing you off the counter and practically in his arms. On the ground, it’s even more noticeable just how big Galvith is. “Let’s test out that body paint, shall we?”

—

It’s hot on the make-shift dance floor, despite just being a mat laid out in the backyard, a wireless speaker pumping the top 100 over the party noise. But with Galvith’s hands on your hips, those fangs nipping at the top of your ear, you're steamy.

“I must admit, I’m a fan of this new genre of human music.”

Galvith whispers in your ear, swaying your bodies to the drum beat.

“I think they call it ‘pop’.” You play along, adding an extra haught to your voice, as if you're really 100 plus years old.

“Hm, like the pop of a vertebrae when you snap it in half. Or a bone being forced out of the socket.”

That has you both laughing, that shared dark humor coming in clutch. You could get down with this kind of roleplay.

“Exactly! The most pleasant sound around.”

Galvith swings you by the hips, your feet nearly lifting off the ground. Your head gets thrown back in a giggle. Seems like those muscles aren’t just for show.

“Oh, what is this?”

Galvith grabs at your necklace, now untucked from your high collar and free flowing. His eyes go slightly wide at the intricate design, composed of several small circles and wrapping lines.

“A friend made it for me actually. She makes jewelry and I offered to trade some leather pieces for a custom design.” You look at the emblem, wondering if he recognized whatever series the book you found came from. It was extremely detailed, and although a bit on the older side, was full of information too niche to be from any religions you’re aware of. You double checked and everything.

“Asmaes.” Galvith purrs, twirling the sigils between his fingers. The silver chain rubs against the back of your neck. “Fitting piece, you chose well my little Incubus. Superb craftsmanship as well, kudos to your friend.”

“Thanks, I’ll let her know.”

Before you can ask him more about the book, he spins you around once more, the world turning as he drops you into a dip. Galvith pulls you up with just as much ease, your ankle hooking around his calf so you don’t collide face-first.

Hot breath blows across your lips, your tongue darting out for just a second. Up-close, those fake fangs look even more real. The closeness is almost too much, your eyes darting to look away. But a calloused thumb presses against your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“So…delectable.”

Sweat pools at your clavicle as Galvith kisses you. Your costume fangs clank together, almost coming loose in your mouth, but it’s hard to care. Not when his hand comes down to your hip, grabbing you and pushing you against him.

It’s easy to fall into the kiss, for that sense of shame to fall to the wayside, even as he practically devours you in front of all these people. You’re not usually like this, you don’t come to these parties for someone to kiss and grind against. But there’s something about him, something thats drawing you in. It’s hot, like a moth to a flame.

The only thing that drags you out of the lust-bubble is the vibration of a phone in Galvith’s pocket, resonating against the thigh you currently have pressed up against him. He growls into your mouth, pulling back at the very last moment.

Galvith curses in a foreign language, you think, grabbing the phone with one hand, the other still swaying you side to side.

“What?”

You swallow down a weird jump of fear. Jeez, you would not want to be on the other side of that phone call.

An unintelligible voice babbles something from the speaker. The vein in Galvith’s head begins to bulge.

“Fine. Whatever.”

He hangs up as the other person is mid-sentence. You don’t even get a chance to ask who it was, before he steals you in another breath-taking kiss.

“Sorry, little human. I have to go.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah, sorry.” You try to unlodge yourself from his arms, the haze of kissing fading and feeling a little more than embarrassed. God, what came over you? But Galvith’s grip is tight, keeping you in place with an alluring smirk.

“Do not worry, we will meet again. Sometime soon.”

You try not to let your smile get too wide, to seem too eager. “Sure thing. Do you want my phone number, or-”

Galvith digs his face into your neck, taking a deep whiff. You nearly squeak. He pulls away with a shuddering breath, wetting his bottom lip.

“I’ll know where to find you.”

Finally, Galvith unwinds his arms, letting you free. You find yourself almost lurching forward, desperate to feel that heat again.

It’s gotta be the alcohol, right? That’s the only logical explanation.

Galvith gives you one last peck to the cheek, a cheeky squeeze of your ass.

“Goodbye, my sweetling.”

With that he’s sauntering back into the house, leaving you speechless and breathless. All alone in someone’s backyard.

I gotta find my friends. They gotta hear about this.

—

Galvith has to sneak into a broom closet to teleport, just barely large enough to fit him. It’s demeaning, even if the spell takes just a second to go through.

Ugh, the one time he finds an interesting human, and he’s called in for an ‘emergency.’ He had wanted to scream at the amatuer demon over the phone. “It’s torture! How hard could it be to figure it out!?”

Galvith steals himself. It will do no good to be angry. Save it for the poor soul currently strung up by his ankles. He takes a deep sniff of the palm of his hand, the smell of leather, denim and your sweat still lingering.

He’ll come back for his little human. One day.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #male reader insert #x reader #demon x reader

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koolades-world · 10 months ago

Text

Your Umbrella (solomon x reader)

It'd been a long day. The rain poured down like the heavens weeping. He had forgotten to bring his umbrella from home. Resolved to the only good part of his day being getting to get to bed, he set off to Purgatory Hall through the onslaught of rain.

As he walked, he contemplated his life, staring down at the sidewalk. Simeon and Luke had headed back at the end of the school day, but he had to stay behind to help out with setting up for tomorrow's lesson in potions since he'd agreed to help since he knew a thing or two. At the time, he was all for it, but now that he was actually there, he couldn't be dreading it more. The last thing he wanted was to help teach a lesson.

Maybe his social battery was just finally drained, after all these years. Maybe RAD had finally been the thing to wear him down. Or, maybe he just needed to power through it. He had no clue what he needed. But, he had to figure it out, or it he wouldn't find the answer he was searching for. That's that way it'd always been.

Despite always seeming chipper, he wasn't sure how much of that he had left in him. He'd honestly lost track of how old he was at this point. He vaguely remembered his birthday, but for a while, it stopped mattering to him because despite the passage of time, his physical body showed no signs of aging. Most of the demons around him knew this, and it felt like common knowledge. But something none of them had considered was the state of his psyche. The human brain wasn't meant to function for an indefinite amount of time like his. He wasn't sure what it felt like to be normal anymore. Was he even human anymore? Even if he was, he wasn't sure he really enjoyed it anymore. Anything that was joyful about being human he felt like he lost long ago.

Being surrounded by demons who were hundreds of thousands of years older than him was troubling at times like this. Sure he was young by comparison, but that thought didn’t comfort him. He should've died a long time ago. Yet he was still here, and it felt as if he was rotting away from the inside out. They didn't stop to consider the toll of spending so much time with them was taking on. And, it wasn't even like it was anything they did on purpose. He wasn't trying to discredit their efforts of course, but they just didn't know what it was like to be human. If he didn't understand himself, how could they?

At this point, it just felt like he was dragging himself through the days. He honestly wasn't sure how he'd made it this far, or how he'd done this in the past. He felt like a dead man walking. He felt like he was wasting away.

But that's when he met you.

Mc made him feel young again, like he finally had a place to belong. Someone that kind of understood him and the struggles of being human. He didn't know what he'd do without you. You breathed the life back into his daily routine, by doing all sorts of little things you probably didn't even think twice about. You actually understood his struggles, and he felt as if turning to you was embracing the sun's rays. He smiled to himself as he continued to shuffle through the rain. He found himself thinking of you more and more as of late. You were nothing but the sparkle of joy in his day.

Behind him, he heard someone splashing through puddles through the din of rain. As he turned around, with the echo of the smile still on his face, he saw the very person he was thinking about. You had a cute pink umbrella in hand that was proabaly a gift from Asmo, blocking the rain from directly hitting you. However, you were still pretty soaked and water was practically dripping from your RAD uniform.

"Ah! You caught me. I was hoping I could sneak up on you and jump on your back." You walked over to him and immediately pulled him under your umbrella.

"You're so interesting." Solomon found himself laughing a little at your antics.

"What're you doing out here all by yourself? I went looking for you and was told you left in this awful weather." You immediately reached up and brushed his bangs out of his face so you could see his eyes. He reeled for a second, his heart thumping, before remembering he had to respond.

"Oh, I just wanted to get back to Purgatory Hall. Simeon took my bag home with him when he left at normal dismissal, and the rain didn't seem too bad when I left. Clearly, I was wrong." He tried to smile and brush it off, but you saw through him.

"Are you upset again? You don't have to tell me why, but let me just be with you and try to cheer you up, if you'll let me." The smile faded from your face a little, and he saw the concern shine through.

He didn't have it in him to speak, so he just nodded. You grabbed one of his hands with one of yours unoccupied with the umbrella. The way you quickly pulled him close and covered him with your umbrella felt oddly fitting to him. You were quick to grow close to him, for whatever reason, and he felt as if when he was around you, it was alright to feel how he was feeling. "Let's go do something crazy! We're both already wet, so what'd you say to dancing in the rain somewhere, then heading to Purgatory Hall to enjoy a movie together? Your favorite, of course. We might get sick, and while magic could solve that, that just means we could take a few sick days together." You leant into his side, placing your chin on his shoulder.

"I'm following you, Mc." He felt himself begin to smile again. He couldn't lie about how enamored he was with you. He couldn't say no to you. You made him happier, like he didn't just have to let the days bleed together. Not everything was going to go his way, but that's alright. At least he knew you'd be by his side.

Maybe being human wasn't so bad after all.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me asmo #obey me solomon #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me simeon #obey me luke #oneshot #gn reader

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cursedonyx · 3 months ago

Note

Hii! I saw your ideas for one shots you posted recently and I would absolutely LOVE to read all of them, but especially the one with Ominis, where Garreth slips Ominis his new potion and MC is helping Ominis with its 'hard' effects 🤭

So if you have time and if you'd want to write it, I would love to read it! ❤️

I have FINALLY gotten around to doing this ask, and as I’d had this in my drafts for ages I thought why not make it an eleventh-hour post for Kinktober too? I would have done more for Kinktober but, like our favourite old faithful that hasn’t been charged in a while, my smut battery was firmly depleted for quite some time.

This doesn’t follow any specific Kinktober prompt, but what the hell, hopefully you all enjoy this little tale of poor Ominis being utterly humiliated and thoroughly fucked.

Masterlist

Don’t Drug Your Friends

(Unless They’re Ominis and in Need of a Good Fucking)

Synopsis – After a multitude of experimental potions and a variety of undesirable effects, no one at Hogwarts wants to be a guineapig for Garreth’s new brews. In desperation, Garreth resorts to underhanded methods in order to test his newest concoction, and slips it into Ominis’ tea. Unfortunately for the poor Heir of Slytherin, the effects are both humiliating and unconquerable until the woman he’s secretly been in love with for the last two years offers to help put the proverbial basilisk back to sleep.

Word Count – 4.9k

Warnings – Female MC, House unspecified, NSFW, MDNI, dubcon, drugging, masturbation, handjob M!Receiving, oral M!Receiving, PIV, and a very embarrassed and needy Sub!Ominis.

All characters aged 18+.

Happy Kinktober.

Springtime at Hogwarts was a time for most students to pretend they were studying, as they instead dreamt about who they were going to ask on a date to Hogsmeade for Valentines, gossiped about the latest scandals, or got hyped for Quidditch. For the seventh years, it was a time to begin to panic about their upcoming exams and pretend they weren’t.

For Garreth Weasley, it was more a struggle than for most. Since the end of sixth year, when he’d convinced Lucan Brattleby to try his latest potion, and the poor lad had ended up in the Hospital Wing with scales, feathers, and the ability to burp luminous, sausage-like bubbles that took days to pop, the entirety of Gryffindor House had put a blanket ban on accepting so much as a biscuit from him. The other houses learned very quickly after this that no matter how much gold he offered, no matter how many favours, no matter how much he begged, it just wasn’t worth spending a week in hospital for.

But Garreth knew the only way to discover ✨The Perfect Potion™✨ was to practice, practice, practice, and in order to make sure his experiments actually achieved what he thought they should, he needed to test them. He always made sure he had a few poison antidotes on hand just in case, so he wasn’t entirely sure what all the fuss was about.

So it was that Sebastian and Ominis found themselves accosted by the boisterous redhead one early February morning in their seventh year, in the Defence Against the Dark Arts Tower.

“Seriously, Sallow, I’ll pay you fifty galleons. Fifty! Think what you could do with that money!”

“Fuck off,” came the terse reply. “I said no eight times already, I’m not going to change my mind.”

“But if I can get this to work ahead of Valentines-”

“Unclog your ears, Weasley, he said no,” Ominis said, using his wand to pour a cup of tea with the cool indifference only a Slytherin pureblood seemed able to master.

Garreth narrowed his eyes. “I’d have thought you’d jump at the chance, Gaunt. Heard your family’s fallen on hard times.”

“It’s no secret,” Ominis said, supremely unbothered. Then, a tiny smirk touched his lips. “That said, I’m surprised you’ve got fifty galleons to offer in your entire family’s account.”

Unlike Ominis, Garreth was just a little bit touchy about his family’s fortunes. He needed to make this potion work ahead of Valentine’s so he could sell it for a huge profit! It would be so popular and he’d be rich and famous and would be able to make sure all his family were comfortable, what was so wrong about that?

Perhaps this was why Garreth decided to do what he did. Maybe he was just in a bad mood and wanted to cause a bit of trouble. Or maybe, just maybe, he was having withdrawals from seeing his potions at work and was determined to do anything to get his creation tested. He pretended to see Peeves causing havoc on the other side of the Tower, and when Sebastian turned to look, he upended the tiny, pink potion into Ominis’ tea.

He shared a grin with Leander, and groped for a notepad as Ominis picked up his cup.

“Alright, fine, suit yourselves. But it would have made an absolute killing, and I’d have given you commission for your help,” he said, trying to be nonchalant.

“Whatever.” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I’ve enough to be worrying about without dealing with beetles falling out of my ears, thanks.”

Ominis shook his head and sipped his tea, closing his eyes at the warmth that slid past his lips and down his throat. He let his mind wander a little, and as it always did when he let it have some form of free reign, it landed squarely on the most incredible woman he’d ever known, the Hero of Hogwarts, for whom he had harboured a secret, burning love since their ill-fated trip to the Scriptorium.

A slim line appeared between his brows as the warmth from the tea seemed to settle under his collar, before spreading over his chest, creeping down his torso to pool between his thighs, and something began to stir.

Ominis, like any other man of his age, was no stranger to random bouts of wilful disobedience from his personal basilisk, and so he elected to ignore it, crossing an elegant leg over the other, hoping no one else had noticed. He took a slow breath and another drink, wondering vaguely why this particular standing to attention was coupled with something that felt concerningly like arousal. Yes, thinking of her certainly fired him up him like nothing else did, but he hadn’t been thinking of anything particularly ungentlemanly. He was in public, after all.

His hands tightened on his cup as the unspecified heat began to intensify, his half-mast blooming full, and as he heard Garreth leaning forward in his chair, and the scratch of quill on parchment, he began to put two and two together.

Uh-oh.

“Soooo…” Garreth said, in a voice so overly casual that it sent a thrill of fear through anyone in the vicinity that had recently had a drink. “How are we all feeling today? Normal? Bit hot under the collar? Thinking of anyone in particular?”

Ominis faced him, quite certain that steam might be curling up from under his shirt as his heart began to pound.

“What have you done?” he managed.

Garreth laughed. “Only what I had to. Don’t worry, the effects won’t last more than a few hours. I think.”

There was a clatter as Sebastian lunged across the low table, followed by a smash as the teapot shattered. Garreth yelped as Sebastian gripped handfuls of his robes and wrenched him out of his seat.

“What did you do?” he demanded, snarling.

“I needed to test my potion,” Garreth said, shoving him back. “Just slipped him a bit, that’s all!”

“What the fuck do you mean, you slipped him a bit!?” Sebastian barked. “What the hell is it meant to do?”

“I’m not sure yet, that’s why I needed to test it,” Garreth said, proudly. “It’s only a variant of a love potion that’s meant to make anyone you like want you in bed, nothing to worry about. Gaunt, tell me exactly what you’re feeling, spare no detail.”

“Are you insane?” Ominis hissed, hunching forward as his arousal twitched, nudging insistently against his belt and threatening to pop right out over the top of his waistband. “You better have an antidote for this, you cretin!”

Garreth gulped and edged behind Leander as Sebastian drew his wand, aiming it at his nethers. “Antidote? It’s only in the testing stages, I’ve not had time to-” he yelped as Sebastian fired a curse at him, and Leander had to put out a small fire on his robes.

Ominis felt his cheeks sear as another thrum of unspecified interest surged through him, his mouth drying. There was an insistent, needy ache growing in his lower abdomen, and he got the feeling that if he didn’t take care of it soon, he was going to be in serious trouble. It didn’t help that he could sense his friends staring at him, Garreth’s lack of subtlety and his shortening breath all but confirming the state he was in.

“Undercroft,” he managed to growl to Sebastian out of the corner of his mouth. “Don’t follow me.”

“You okay?” Sebastian asked, as Ominis tugged his robes tight about himself and rose.

“I’ll be fine,” he muttered, trying to stand as casually as he could without revealing his significantly growing problem. “Do try not to kill that little bastard while I’m gone, I’d like to do it myself.”

The cool of the Undercroft’s stone walls did little to alleviate the heat in his body as Ominis shouldered his way through the hidden entrance, his pace increasing as he half ran towards a stack of crates at the back, positioned deliberately to hide a pile of cushions and blankets for the rare instances when he just couldn’t ignore his body’s needs. Ominis hissed between his teeth and turned his wand about the Undercroft, hoping that she wasn’t down here. Merlin, he’d never live it down if she saw him like this.

Hell, it was embarrassing enough to be in this predicament, but for his friends to know as well! The thought scalded him, making him cringe. It was worse that they knew why he’d gone off by himself. Yes, everybody did it, but that didn’t mean everyone should bloody know about it when he did! It was hard enough to find alone time as it was, but for anyone else to know… Ominis groaned. With the way gossip spread, the whole bloody castle would know that the infamously stoic Ominis Gaunt had needed to dash off and have a wank by the time he reemerged, if his past luck was anything to go by.

No matter. The state he was in, it wouldn’t take long, and then he could try and forget about the whole, sordid mess. After he’d murdered Garreth, of course.

He sucked a sharp breath between his teeth, bracing a hand against the wall as his mind flooded with thoughts of her, as it always did when he needed to attend to himself. He focused on the faint brush of her hand against the back of his when they studied together, her fingertips cool as she handed him a book or stack of parchment, each light touch sending sparks through his skin that never failed to stiffen his cock. He whimpered softly as he recalled those few times he let her embrace him, his attention always zeroing in on how her ample breasts pressed against his chest, his hands resting just above the curve of her hip. What he wouldn’t give to feel these things without the cursed barrier of her clothes…

And Merlin, the sound of her voice, low and rich, some sultry note always winding about underneath it, as if she was but a moment away from singing or whispering nothing but sinful filth into his ear, her dark chuckles, the freedom of her laughter never failing to set his heart to racing.

Then the scent of her hair… citrus and exotic blossoms from some far off, sun-drenched land infused his mind as he wished and wished he knew what it was like to have those silken strands fall over his face as she rode him.

Ominis fought with his belt and the fastenings of his trousers, unable to stop thinking about her, imagining all those things she could do to him that would only ever be in his mind. She was too good for him, too perfect, too glorious, but it never hurt to imagine. Imagination never hurt anyone. His lower lip found its way between his teeth as he took himself in his hand, instinctively setting up a rapid pace that, when he’d been this worked up before, had brought him blissful relief in little under a minute.

But something was wrong. He could feel his hand sliding along his length, feel the pressure as he tightened his grip, but it brought him about as much relief as sticking it in a jar of numbing potion would have.

“Oh, come on,” Ominis hissed, gripping himself tighter in a vain effort to evoke some of the promised euphoria such an act usually provided him, even going so far as to spit in his palm, but it didn’t work. To his horror, it served only to heighten his need, and brought him no relief.

✧˖° ˖ * ˖ °˖✧

Almost an hour later, Ominis emerged, limping and red-faced, his breathing ragged and his hair dishevelled, his cloak pulled tight about his body.

“Well?” Garreth asked, eagerly, quill and notepad at the ready.

“Piss off,” Ominis snarled. “If you can’t get me an antidote in the next five minutes then what good are you?”

Sebastian shouldered Garreth out of the way and leaned in close.

“No better?”

“Fuck off. I don’t want anyone near me.”

“What about New Girl?” Leander piped up, clearly enjoying himself far more than was appropriate for the Slytherin’s suffering. “Bet you wouldn’t mind her being around you right now.”

Ominis spat a string of violent curses in Parseltongue at the thought of the Hero of Hogwarts assisting him with his predicament once again, before he tried to push away the idea as it sent another painful thrum of arousal through him. Unfortunately, the idea of her didn’t want to be banished and remained stubbornly inside his head, doing things no self-respecting woman would ever do, let alone to him.

“She hasn’t been new for two years,” Sebastian said, placing his foot firmly on Leander’s hip and shoving him away as Ominis clung to the wall, biting his tongue to stop himself groaning. “If you’re not going to help, then sod off.” He gripped Ominis’ shoulder, leaning close, and Ominis wriggled away, hissing as his skin tingled. “Mate, maybe he’s got a point. She’s good at potions, maybe she could do something about this? Plus, you like her, and she likes-”

“Never,” Ominis growled. “She can never hear of this.”

“Okay, then maybe we should get Professor Sharp, he’d be able to-”

“If you breathe a word of this to anyone I will kill you myself!” Ominis snarled.

It was getting decidedly hard to think, and Ominis huddled against the wall, bent almost in two as wave upon wave of rising need threw itself about his insides. If he didn’t do something soon, he was either going to explode or go completely insane. It was all he could do not to grab at himself, despite the fact that he was in public and he knew that it wouldn’t help one bit.

Sebastian shared a worried look with Garreth, whose eagerness to see the effects of his potion in action had worn off upon seeing how decidedly uncomfortable Ominis was. Yeah, it had been kind of funny to see him so embarrassed, but this was a problem. How could he sell his potion if the effects were this drastic, and didn’t wear off quickly?

“Maybe just… I don’t know, try and sleep it off?” Sebastian suggested, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry mate, I don’t know how else to help you.”

“I know a way you can,” Leander laughed, and quickly shut up as both Sebastian and Ominis glared at him, drawing their wands.

“Go up to the Room of Requirement,” Sebastian said, giving Ominis a little shove between the shoulder blades that made him yelp. “Garreth, you go too, there’s potion stations up there, and you better get to work on an antidote, or I’ll hang you off the Astronomy Tower by your balls.”

With a barely restrained whine, Ominis disillusioned himself and all but ran for the stairs, the outline of his figure vanishing as he rounded the bend. Garreth took one look at Sebastian’s murderous expression and followed, jotting notes on his parchment as he went. No sooner had he vanished than Sebastian took off, pelting through the castle, seeking the one person he hoped might be able to put an end to his brother’s suffering.

✧˖° ˖ * ˖ °˖✧

“How long’s he been like this?” she asked, matching Sebastian’s pace as they hurtled towards the Room of Requirement.

“A bit more than an hour or so, I think,” Sebastian panted, struggling to keep up. “It’s really bad.”

She cursed under her breath, her long, dark hair swishing to and fro. “What did Garreth say it was meant to do?”

“Turn people on so they’re easier to get into bed,” Sebastian replied, glowering. “Or words to that effect. He wants to sell it ahead of Valentine’s Day.”

She made a face, her small nose wrinkling. “Creep. As if it wasn’t bad enough having to worry about love potions. Poor Ominis.” They slowed as they reached the seventh-floor corridor, and she glanced at him. “I presume he’s… um… tried the usual methods?”

Sebastian shrugged. “I guess so. Didn’t ask, he’s embarrassed enough. He’s going to kill me when he finds out I’ve told you.”

“Me in particular?” she raised a brow, and Sebastian hesitated. It wasn’t a secret to those who knew him well that Ominis was madly in love with the woman before him, but he hadn’t thought she’d figured it out. His silence seemed to be all the answer she needed, and a little smile touched her lips. “Leave it to me. He’ll be right as rain soon enough.”

“What are you going to-” Sebastian began, but she’d vanished into the Room of Requirement before he could finish. With a low sigh, he crossed his fingers, counted to ten, then followed, finding the large space mostly empty, save for a sweaty Garreth standing before a table of five cauldrons, each of them hissing different coloured steam. His nose was bleeding.

“What happened there?” Sebastian asked, and Garreth glowered.

“That cow just punched me,” he said, thickly. “Didn’t say a damn word and ran off to the bedroom.”

Sebastian grinned. “Can’t say you didn’t deserve it.”

Garreth wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Shut up and help me with these, would you? Whatever she’s planning, I hope it works, because none of these antidotes look promising right now.”

✧˖° ˖ * ˖ °˖✧

Ominis twisted and writhed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. His clothes lay discarded on the floor of the small room, the light satin sheets of the bed dragging across his fevered skin as he desperately sought some form of relief from the blazing need surging through his body. But no matter how much he rutted against the mattress, no matter how fervently he beat himself, he couldn’t break through the barrier between desperate desire and the enduring numbness that denied him, over and over.

He couldn’t say how much time had passed. He couldn’t say how long he’d been tangled in these sheets, moaning softly as he chased a high that tormented him as it danced away, again and again. His mind was fragmented, consumed by a primal, visceral need for relief, for this aching agony to end, for the heavens to open and just please let him come.

So scattered was he that he barely registered the door opening, the footsteps hushing over the carpet as he gripped handfuls of his hair, curled in a ball on his side. But he heard the sharp intake of breath, smelled that torturously familiar scent that was so deliciously her, and his tormented mind took on a crystal clarity as pure, unadulterated panic flashed through him.

“No, no!” he gasped. “No, not you!”

She pulled up short, her brows drawing together a little as Ominis struggled to pull the fraying threads of his brain back together.

“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…” he whimpered softly as another agonising pang of need surged through him, intensified by the fact that it was her standing there, and he curled up tighter, his hands tensing in his hair, trying to hide his shamed face as he tried to burrow under the sheets. “I… I don’t want you to see me like this.”

She was concerningly quiet for a moment, then her footsteps sounded once more as she approached, and Ominis bit down on a high-pitched whine as she settled on the bed, her weight pulling the sheets tight against his skin. He fought not to writhe, every nerve ending on fire as he curled up tighter.

“Please… please leave,” he begged. “I-I c-can’t…”

“This needs to be fixed,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “Ominis, you can’t go on like this. I want to help you.”

“Then get me a fucking antidote,” he spat, his limbs trembling as he fought to remain still. He didn’t care that he swore in front of her, something he vowed never to do in front of a lady, he was too concerned with retaining some miniscule shred of dignity. Shame and humiliation burned a torturous path through his body as he bit down on another low whine, his cock throbbing at the thought of her being so close to him, her beautiful scent, her delicious voice sending waves of primal desire through him.

She couldn’t be here. She had to leave, or he was going to do something they would both regret.

It seemed she either couldn’t sense the danger, however, or she didn’t care. She slid closer to him, a cool hand finding his shoulder, such a simple touch making his hair stand on end as he fought with himself not to grab at her. He had to maintain control, no matter how difficult. He was a gentleman, he was proper, he wasn’t one of those base louts that thought with their dicks and followed wherever they pointed, he was… he was…

Fucking hell. He was desperate for her.

Her hand tightened on his shoulder, pushing lightly, and little by little he uncurled enough to reveal his face, his skin flushed, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“You poor thing,” she murmured. “Will you let me help you?”

Her hand slid over his shoulder to his chest, and Ominis bit down on a whine. How often had he tormented himself with fantasies of this exact thing happening? It almost made him want to weep with the frustration of it all, because he knew all too well that nothing would come of this but further humiliation.

“P-please… don’t,” he whimpered as she peeled the sheets back, moving closer to him as she trailed her fingers over his stomach, the muscles contracting at her touch. “It won’t… it won’t d-do anything… I c-can’t feel-”

His next words were cut off by a yelp as the heel of her hand grazed the aching head of his length through the sheets, sending a surge of pleasure so powerful through him that it snapped his head back.

He could feel her touch.

His hands flew out, one latching onto her wrist, the other winding into her hair. She came to him willingly, her lips brushing his hesitantly for a heartbeat before he crushed his mouth to hers, moaning helplessly as she found his aching steel through the sheets, her palm curving around the shape of him.

Ominis launched up, hooking an arm around her neck, his free hand shoving at the covers. There was no longer room for hesitancy or fear or embarrassment – any last shred of lingering dignity had been eviscerated by her kiss.

All Ominis knew is that he needed to be held, to be kissed, to be touched, and to be fucked. Right. Now.

He shoved at the sheets covering him as her lips moved from his to lavish attention on the side of his neck, her hand travelling down his chest sparking through his nerves. A high, desperate whine escaped him when she showed no hesitation and wrapped her hand around his fevered length, the soothing cool of her skin a balm to his burning flesh.

Even through his maddening haze of desperation and need, Ominis was dimly aware of the inexplicable skill she displayed, each swift, twisting stroke of her hand designed by some omniscient power, it seemed, so perfectly did it make his body sing. Her pace was steady, her grip firm but not tight, and his mind went to pieces. In all his furtive, shameful imaginings of being with her at last, he had never once suspected that she would know just how perfectly to treat him.

She murmured gentle encouragement to him, her words a song of sin and fire as her touch sent him ever higher on a glittering ladder that seemed heaven bound. Ominis bucked helplessly against her, his hands alternately clutching and tugging at her clothes, knowing in some deep, primal way that the simple touch of her hand, no matter how glorious, would never be enough.

It seemed she understood this as well, for her lips left his neck, trailing down his body, each press of her lips tensing the muscles they touched. Something in the back of his mind set up a wild protest, the part of him that was still human underneath his frantic desire screaming that he would never live this down, but even this stubborn part of him was silenced when a searing heat enveloped him from head to base, hard at the edges and so deliciously soft in the centre, something long and dexterous winding about his entire length.

The sensation of her mouth on him in such a way pushed a yell that was almost a scream from deep within his lungs, flying up his throat so harshly that it roughed the edges of his voice, his hands flew to her head, winding his fingers into her hair and driving himself as deep as he could. He didn’t care that he might choke her, that he might make her wretch, he just needed more of that sensation, more of this heavenly feeling of pure euphoria.

She didn’t choke, and she didn’t retch. She tightened her lips, hollowing her cheeks and sucking hard, her throat closing over the tip of him as he threw his head back, yelping in wordless ecstasy. Her arms wound around his waist as his legs fell apart, anchoring them together as her head bobbed at a steady, rapid pace, and if Ominis had the gift of sight, he would have seen the entire cosmos.

"Fuck... yes..." Ominis gasped. "Right there... don't stop, please don't stop..."

And yet it still wasn’t enough. Though each swipe of her tongue drew a whining moan from his lips like silver thread, the pulsing of her throat in time with his racing heart, his body stubbornly refused to fall over the edge upon which he teetered. Almost rabid, Ominis gripped he hair, pulling her back up to crush his lips to hers, tugging at her clothes so forcefully that her blouse tore.

In response, she pinned his wrists over his head. He had no time to protest this as she straddled him in the next moment, leaning down to capture his lips with hers once more, holding him tight with one hand as the other slid down, grasping him firmly and angling him up.

Ominis could never have imagined the euphoria that he experienced next. One moment, he was aching, spit-slick and cool in the empty air, and the next he was enveloped in searing satin and silken fire. If her mouth had been the cosmos, this was heaven itself. He could barely draw breath to moan as she seated him fully inside her, and even through his primal haze, he couldn’t believe it, couldn’t understand it, that he, Ominis Gaunt, was being loved by her.

He thrust up with abandon, garbled pleas and frenzied, worshipful praise flowing from his mouth between urgent kisses, his hands held firmly above his head as she rode him like a graphorn. Her hair swung down, the silken tresses brushing over his face and chest like he’d always dreamed of. He began to feel a delicious, prickling heat pooling at the base of his spine, in the pit of his stomach, his skin tingling as he ran full pelt towards the edge. Something within him knew he needed to savour this, to commit each and every detail to memory as she herself released a soft, breathy moan, but that single sound, the knowledge that came with it being that he was making her feel good was too much for him.

"Fuck... fuck... FUCK! YES! YES!"

The spell was broken, the potion overcome as Ominis’ entire body went taught, his balls drawing up tight as he finally, finally came like a fucking hose. His head snapped back, his moans rising to echoing yelps as his back arched, his hands pinioned above his head as he writhed, the sensation so much more intense than anything he had ever experienced before, going on and on and on until he was certain he might go mad. But end it did, and he fell back, utterly boneless and exhausted, his breath trembling as his body quivered, the warm weight of her comforting as she settled to lie atop him, her lips soothing once more at his neck.

“Are you alright?” she asked, after some small time had passed. Ominis could only mumble non-words, his mind still scattered, his not quite feeling his body as he should now that there was this sudden absence of primal need. Little by little, the last few hours came back to him, and he felt his chest grow tight. Wincing as fresh shame burned a path through him, Ominis turned his face away.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he managed, his voice cracking. “Y-you shouldn’t have… my behaviour… I never should…”

“Hush,” she brushed his hair back, pressing a delicate kiss to his temple. “I was happy to, Ominis.” She pulled him closer, a hand at the back of his head, and he curled into her automatically, burying his face in the crook of her neck. The lingering ache in his body melded with his utter humiliation, contrasting bizarrely with a feeling of purest bliss. He held onto it, onto her, knowing that once she left this bed, this room, she’d never want to speak to him again. She had helped him, yes, but that was what she did. It wasn’t because she liked him. How could anyone like someone as depraved as him?

As if she could read his thoughts, she gave him a little squeeze, her lips brushing his ear.

“You know, I’d be happy to do this again,” she murmured, and he felt her lips stretch into a smile against his skin as his heart leapt. “With you, and only you. Only… let’s leave the experimental potions out of it next time, hm?”

Ominis was only too happy to agree.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #subinis #ominis smut #ominis gaunt smut #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt x mc #sub!ominis #sebastian sallow #garreth weasley #dubcon #lust potion #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #ominis x fmc #ominis gaunt x fmc

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kiribakuswife · 3 months ago

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Make it Up to You

Denki Kaminari x Reader

Kinktober Day 11!!

The last thing you expected to happen on your drive home was to have a body fall practically out of the sky onto the hood of your car. A scream ripped through your throat, and at the sound a head lifted, and even less expected, you were met with the shock of blond hair that signified it was in fact your boyfriend who fell from the sky. He jumped off as quickly as he fell, pulling your hood open and grabbing the battery. Before you could even move, he was off a thumbs up and a cheesy grin in your direction as he ran down the street. Trying to catch your breath, you stepped out of the car, taking in the damage.

There was a perfect Denki sized dent in the hood, something pouring out of the bottom of your car and onto the pavement. “Ma’am, are you alright?” A cop shouted, running towards you. You were worried about him for sure, ignoring the question as you watched the night sky light up from his attack, “Chargebolt’s quite a powerhouse huh?” He laughed, watching as the sky lit up again, “At least it wasn’t Red Riot, this car would be destroyed from that kids quirk.” He shook his head, looking awkward as he rubbed the back of his neck. The man was nearly old enough to be your grandpa. “Are you alright though, ma’am?”

“Fine.” You mumbled, shaking your head as you looked back at him. The sound of footsteps approaching caused you to look over, the hero returning with the villain slung over his shoulder, grinning as he approached.

“Trade?” He asked the officer, who nodded graciously, going to cuff the villain as Denki sent him down. “Hi, baby girl! Fancy meeting you here.” He cooed, coming up to you for a huge.

“My car…” You whispered sadly, stepping back, causing him to grimace.

“Does it make it better or worse if I say I landed on your car on purpose.” He said slowly, “I’m sorry!” He whined as your eyes flashed back to him. “The agency has been breathing down my neck about property damage and it was either yours or that one,” He gestured over his shoulder to the absolute shit box that was parked right beside where your car had skidded to a stop, his pace quickening as you felt your annoyance rising.

“Kami! My car!” You whined back, “You couldn’t have just landed on the sidewalk like a normal person.” You huffed at him, crossing your arms.

“It hurts my knees- I mean! I saw it was you and I wanted to see you, catch you before you got home!” He fumbled as your eyebrows narrowed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m sorry, I promise I’ll make it up to you!” he put his hands together in a prayer motion, bowing slightly to you with his eyes closed.

“You can start by calling me a tow truck.” You huffed back, sitting on the curb with a pout. “And you owe me a new battery.”

“Anything for you, baby girl.” He winked at you, causing you to roll your eyes, a small smile tugging on your lips as he pulled out his phone.

“Chargebolt, sir, I can take care of that.” A different cop had joined you, looking between you both, confused at your familiarity, “You should get back to work sir, we can handle this from here.”

“I got it!” He said back cheerily, “Or else I’m in the doghouse.” He added with a mock whisper, sounding overly terrified for good measure. He winked again at you as you laughed a bit, the other line finally picking up as he described the situation.

“Ma’am, I have some paperwork if you would like to fill out so the city can help pay for the repairs, I’m really sorry you got caught up in this tonight.” He continued, turning to you.

“Thanks, but Chargebolt has actually agreed to pay for all the damages and take me home tonight, so I am all good!” You said to him, causing Denki to blanch as he spoke. The cop nodded awkwardly before leaving the scene, Denki coming to join you on the curb.

“It should only be a few minutes.” he said with a yawn, pulling you into his side. You hummed in reply, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. You must have started to drift off, lulled by his warmth, jumping a bit as he shook you, yellow flashing lights filling your vision. He stood once making sure you weren’t going to slump to the ground, chatting with the tow truck driver as they loaded your poor car up, gone just as soon as they came. “Come on, baby girl.” he said lightly as he approached you, turning and gesturing for you to hop onto his back. You shook your head at him, a sleepy laugh falling from your lips as you hopped up, his strong grip on the back of your thighs as you curled into his neck.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked delicately, leaning down to grab your purse before beginning the short walk home.

“No.” You mumbled, placing a kiss on the side of his neck, “Not if you carry me wherever I need to go.”

“That can definitely be arranged.” He laughed back, patting your leg. You hugged him tighter as a reply. He soon reached your door, placing you back on the ground as he fished his keys out. As soon as you got inside, you were suddenly grabbed, shoved against the door with one hand cradling your head and the other tight on your waist. “I’m gonna make it up to you.” He declared, and soon his lips were on you, hot and heated as he pressed into you, causing a moan to slip from you.

He lifted you again after locking the door, carrying you into the bedroom, mouths locked the entire way before unceremoniously throwing you to the bed with a plop. He smirked down at you as you watched him, an all too familiar glint in his eyes. “Pay you back” often meant pinning you down onto the mattress until you screamed, stars in your eyes, and it seemed like tonight would be no different. He was a man on a mission.

Your heart began to thunder as he leaned down, hands sliding under your shirt before pulling it off, your bra soon following. His fingers ghosted over you, static electricity making you squirm below him. “Please.” You begged, already breathless despite the fact that he had barely touched you.

“Patience.” He chided, before pinching your nipple, a light shock flowing through you in a way that made you shudder below him. His languid pace continued, taking his time, and before long you were practically crying below him, begging for anything really. His hand drifted down, slowly coming to ease your pants off. He spread your legs, easing down between them, blowing lightly on you, causing your hands to fly down to his hair, pulling lightly on it, trying to lead him where you wanted, but he only chuckled lightly at you, rubbing his hands over your thighs. “Needy, baby girl?” He asked, earning a groan of frustration in reply. It felt like just one touch would send you hurtling over the edge.

He ran a single finger through your folds before finding your clit, circling it lightly, and you felt your body instantly sag, truly giving over to him. He laughed lightly again, sending a light bolt directly to your clit and with that single moment, your back was arching as you came around nothing, tears coming to your eyes as you climaxed.

“Kami, please!” You whined, hips bucking away or towards him, you weren’t really sure.

“Please what?” He smiled up at you, clearly loving this. “What do you want, hmm?” he was driving as he smiled up at you.

“Fuck me!” You cried. He shook his head at you, leaning down to place a single kiss to your clit.

“Not yet, I have to make it up to you first.” His grin was devilish as he met your eye, head finally, finally moving down.

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #mha smut #mha x reader #mha #smut #kaminari smut #mha kaminari #kaminari x reader #denki kaminari #mha quirks #chargebolt #electricity #electrostimulation

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theghostavocadoe · 1 month ago

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FUCK YOU domestic Remnants of Sephiroth + AC fam headcanons

After being brought into the household by a very disgruntled Cloud and a Mom Instinct Tifa, the Remnants were quickly indoctrinated into their funky found family.

Their first few days were spent shopping for new clothes, accessories, furniture, and other various goodies for their room

Speaking of their room, they all share a single room, but with three separate beds. Cloud's policy is that if they're too pissed off with each other to sleep in the same room, they can sleep on the couch.

They each have their own coffee mug. Loz's has a cat face on it. Yazoo's is one of those mugs that changes colors when a hot liquid is poured into it that looks like a battery being charged. And Kadaj's just says FUCK OFF in sparkly cursive font.

Marlene is quick to forgive and even quicker to get along with the three of them. Denzel, not so much; he's still got a big grudge over being literally mind controlled, which is fair.

Loz is the quickest to befriend everybody because he's got a big heart and is just happy to have a roof over his head. He also feels a bit bad about beating up Tifa, so he jumps on any opportunity to help her with things like cooking or carrying an obscene amount of grocery bags.

Yazoo is second for everyone to warm up to because he's quiet and polite. He mostly just sits and reads during his free time. One time, when she felt confident enough, Marlene just walked up to him and climbed into his lap. He didn't mind at all and she ended up falling asleep there.

Kadaj, as expected, took the longest to adjust. He needed a lot of time to get over his grudges and realize everything about Mother and Sephiroth was pointless. Once he did warm up, though, it was like a flip switched.

His confidence skyrocketed. He made jokes. He laughed. He was happy. Loz and Yazoo were completely unbothered, as if this was normal, but everyone else was shocked. When he was asked about it, Kadaj just shrugged and said he didn't want to waste his time pretending to be negative anymore.

He definitely still has his moments and his mood swings. But otherwise, he was content.

Now for the more fun headcanons:

Yazoo is an absolute fiend for garlic bread. Or anything garlic in general. He could kill a vampire just by standing near it.

Loz assesses everything by sniffing it first.

When they start to get along, Kadaj and Denzel start an ongoing game of punchies.

Loz forces everyone in the family to play card games with him at least once.

Yazoo is overall great with children. Any time he goes out near the local orphanage, the children flock to him with average children questions while begging to touch his hair.

Tifa and Yazoo help brush each other's hair sometimes. Tifa even puts Yazoo's hair in a little braid from time to time.

During the holidays, putting up the tree is a collective effort. At one point Kadaj climbs on Loz's shoulder to try and put the star on the top, which almost pushes the tree over and gives Cloud a heart attack.

Kadaj hangs around Cloud when he's working on Fenrir and is often forced to fetch tools or hold flashlights for him.

The remnants all go with Cloud whenever he visits the church so that they can thank Aerith for giving them another chance.

When the rest of the gang visits, Loz has a blast with Cait Sith and Red XIII, Kadaj has a heated debate with Cid, and Yazoo and Vincent stand in the Antisocial Corner to quietly talk.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #advent children #remnants of sephiroth #kadaj ff7 #yazoo ff7 #loz ff7 #cloud strife #Tifa lockhart #marlene wallace #denzel ff7 #cait sith #vincent valentine #cid highwind

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sunraies · 2 years ago

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Cupcakes and Rainstorms

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings - fluff, enemies to something, kissing. Rafe has a crush.

Getting stuck on the side of the road in a rainstorm has an unexpected outcome

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The sudden downpour came out of nowhere. The joys of summer rainstorms. One minute, the sun is shining, and then suddenly, the sky becomes dark and grey.

It was just your luck that the heavens opened while you were making a delivery to the Figure Eight. You father's beat up, bakery van was never good in the rain.

The white van with a smiling cupcake tended not have the ability to break in the rain. You begged your father to upgrade it as the business grew but he insisted it worked perfectly fine. The rusted, cupcake smiling, piece of shit.

Sure, it had memories from the days when the bakery first opened but it wasn't worth your life. You should have just biked the five dozen white cupcakes to the obnoxious white themed party.

What 14 year old held a white themed party, anyway?

You had pulled over to check the directions and got stuck in a muddy puddle, which was more like a bog with a stupid little white dress on. No way could you risk trying to push the fucking, heap of junk in the rain.

You had phoned JJ for help but had no luck and it wasn't worth trying the others. If JJ didn't pick up, the others wouldn't. Whatever shit he was getting up to, they were definitely with him. You sent an SOS message to the group, but they could take hours.

Hitting your head on the stirring wheel, you groaned in tune with the horn. Stuck between Figure Eight and The Cut with your phone battery dead. Maybe you should have called a tow truck before JJ.

With the horn blaring you didn't hear the roar of the motorcycle. It was the sharp knocking on the driver window that caught your attention.

"Holy shit!" You yelled, jumping and holding a hand over your heart.

Stood outside your window in the pouring rain, white shirt soaked through was Rafe Cameron.

"What the hell, are you doing?" You rolled down the window as he frowned at you.

"Oh, that's a shame. I thought I found a dead Pogue"

You could have sworn he looked concerned for a moment before realising it was you.

"Sorry to ruin your fantasy" you grumbled, ready to roll the window up on him but his hand stopped you.

"It's pissing it down," He pointed out, like you couldn't tell.

"And?"

"Let me sit for a bit"

You raised an eyebrow at him, watching the rain drip from his hair as the fabric of his shirt, which made it more and more see-through. He noticed you looking, and a small smirk appeared.

"Come on, my bike is laying in the mud, and this shirt is expensive."

You glanced in the mirror, noticing the motor bike thrown down in the bog like puddle. Had he really been that concerned?

"Fine, but you're phoning for a tow truck." He was already running round to the passenger side.

He made a shivering noise as he slammed the passenger door shut and shook himself. "You didn't call a truck?"

"Dead battery" you held up, your battered and broken phone.

It had a cracked screen and worn-out case, but you loved it. The lock screen was of the gang on the beach, and tucked in the back was a post-it with a doodle from Kie.

It was your father's stupid cupcake, smoking a joint, and the knife stabbed into the icing.

"So we're stuck." Rafe tried not to smile at the doodle as you throw your phone upside down on the dashboard.

"We?" You looked over at him.

Taking in his appearance more. He really did have a body like a Greek god, clearly visible with his shirt clinging to his toned torso. He had a face like an angel when he wasn't scowling.

"Don't have my phone on me, sweetheart" He shrugged, patting his pockets to prove a point.

You stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Who the fuck, doesn't have their phone on them?"

"Didn't think I needed it"

After some silence and the annoyance of him huffing while playing with random things in the van. You snapped,

"Would you stop that?"

"Stop what?"

"Breathing so hard"

"I'm just breathing"

"Well, stop"

"I'm sure you and your little friends would love that"

"I wouldn't be complaining"

"Wow. Ouch" He scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. "Didn't know you could be so heartless"

"Guess we don't know a lot about each other"

"I do" He muttered, so quitely that you barely caught it.

"Oh really? Let's see what the Kook King, thinks of a Pogue 'peasant' like me"

The rain was still hammering down on the windscreen and making a tinny sound as it bounced of the roof of the van.

He scoffed at you again. "I wouldn't say peasant. What with your father's business and all"

You rolled your eyes. Of course, he wouldn't reject the idea of being called Kook King.

Your father's bakery had become so popular in Outerbanks that custom had even spread the main land. He had more than enough to move, upgrade, and even buy a house in the Figure Eight, but he didn't want the change. Everything he was gaining was going into a collage fund for you and your future.

"Thanks, I guess"

Uncomfortable silence fell again as the rain didn't ease.

"Why did you stop?"

"Stop what?" He asked again.

"At the van"

He shrugged "I knew it was your father's"

Rafe didn't look at you as he quickly added at the same time as you, before you even asked why.

"Fucking smiling cupcake"

You actually laughed at the timing. Little did you know, he hated the cupcake as every time he saw it around, he hoped it was you driving.

In the cute polo shirt with the cupcake logo and shorts that hugged your butt. The baseball cap with the same logo, worn backwards and your white, now grey, scuffed up converse.

You bounced around, smiling and wishing good day to people as you delivered the elite of the island. Music blaring out of the rust bucket or taping away on your phone, nodding as you picked the next track before hopping on your bike.

The first time he saw you around was about a year ago. Sure, he'd seen you with the Pogues, but he really noticed you when you had come to Tanneyhill.

It wasn't even an actual delivery. You had been popping by to pick Sarah up for John B bringing a small box of baked goods with you. Wheeze actually hugged you when she saw you at the door. She loved the cupcakes.

"You scared me, you know?" He played with the ring on his finger.

"How?"

"When I saw the van, and the horn. I thought

...." he sighed as you watched him. He looked so vulnerable as he swallowed.

"I was dead?" You frowned, you were going to snark back about how fucking morbid that was before he shook his head and ran his hand through his hair.

"So you throw your bike in the mud? Wow, dramatic much? " You chose a lighter topic, which actually made him laugh.

🧁

"Hey, hey," you hit his hand away from the box of perfectly iced cakes. "Don't eat those!"

"We have been sat here an hour." Rafe pointed out his watch.

Your eyes went wide, shit, shit, shit. An hour. You were an hour late. An hour of money lost. An hour of no one coming to rescue you. A hour of -

"I'm sure, Wheeze won't mind"

Wheeze? What the hell, did he mean Wheeze? His baby sister.

Oh, you were going to kill, Jeremy. The dipshit had put Tawney Hall on the delivery notice. No wonder you couldn't find it. If you known you were delivering for the Camerons you would have never pulled over in the first place.

"Wheezie, wanted a white theme party?" You found that hard to believe.

"Rose wanted" He corrected as he grabbed a cupcake from the box again.

You hit his hand a moment too slow, causing the cupcake to go flying and land on his drying, white shirt. You laughed and covered your mouth.

"Oh, I'm sorry." You tried to be sincere, but the laughter didn't help.

"I told you this was expensive, baby"

He shook his head at you, he looked annoyed but there was a twinkle in his eye. God, had they always been so blue?

He dipped his finger into the icing before making you gasp as he ran it down your nose.

"Rafe, no, no" You laughed and put your hands up but was not use.

Soon, you both ended up covered in icing and crumbled cakes.

His face was so close to yours that you could feel his breath fan over your lips. You had ended up with your back against the door as Rafe fitted perfectly between your legs. His hand cupped your neck as you held his shoulder.

His eyes darted from yours to your lips and back again. He swallowed a few times as your heart beat loudly in your chest.

"Kiss me"

It was a whisper, but he caught it and took only a moment before his lips collied with yours. He tasted of vanilla icing.

You broke suddenly apart as the familiar tune of The Twinkie's horn sounded so close by.

#rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #outerbanks

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w4nd3r3r123456 · 18 days ago

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BURNS

Flames: From fire, candles, campfires, explosions.

Hot Surfaces: Stoves, irons, grills, car engines, metal objects in the sun.

Hot Liquids (Scalds): Boiling water, coffee, tea, soup, cooking oil. (Whumper making Whumpee boil a pot of water and pouring it down their throat/ forcing them to drink it, after Whumpee lied or cursed them out + they can't eat/talk for days after.)

Electrical Current: Exposed wires, faulty appliances, electrical outlets.

Lightning Strikes: During thunderstorms.

High Voltage Burns: Power lines, industrial equipment.

Acids: Battery acid, vinegar, hydrochloric acid. (Whumper pouring an acidic solution onto Whumpee's wounds.)

Bases : Ammonia, bleach, oven cleaners. (forcing them to bleach their hands after they steal? "wash the sin away")

Household Products: Drain cleaners, detergents, fertilizers.

Sunburns: Prolonged UV exposure without protection.

Road Rash: From falling off a bike or during a car accident. (Whumper trying their hands to the back of the car and driving off.)

Rope Burn: From fast-moving ropes. (Okay, but what if Whumper attaches sandpaper to the rope?!)

Treadmill Burn: Falling on moving treadmill belts.

Direct Contact with Freezing Objects: Dry ice, frozen metal.

Extreme Weather Exposure: Frostbite from prolonged exposure to snow, icy water, or windchill.

Extreme Temperatures: Metal, glass, or plastic heated or cooled.

Heated Products: Curling irons, hair straighteners, heat packs.

Cold Injuries: Liquid nitrogen or frozen items.

Explosions: Gasoline, fireworks, propane tanks.

Inhalation Burns (I didn't know this was a thing. If anyone asks WTH you get out of writing Whump, I learn new, very useful info.)

Smoke Inhalation: During fires.

Chemical Vapors: Breathing in strong fumes from cleaning agents or industrial chemicals. (Being locked in a room after using these chemicals agents because they "didn't clean it properly")

Jellyfish or Coral Stings: Releasing venom into the skin. (Whumpee having to jump into some body of water in order to escape Whumper + they can't swim)

Poison Ivy or Poison Oak: Causing severe skin reactions. (Running through a forest.)

Laser Burns

Fireworks

Explosive Devices: Military or war-related injuries. (JASON TODD)

Compressed Gas Burns: From rapid expansion or leaks.

#BURNS #BURN #burn #punishment #whumper #whump #whumpee #whump prompt #whump tropes #whumpee x whumper #whump scenario #whump ideas #whump idea #whump community

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dixonsdarkelf · 2 months ago

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QOTU: Something Good

My first official installment in the 'Quarters of the Undead' AU created with @dixons-sunshine is here! We get to watch Vec and Scud's first meeting play out. Be prepared to become obsessed with them because I certainly am. Lydia Vector (Vec) belongs to me, Georgie Hawkins (Ginny, as Vec calls her) belongs to Krys. Banner and divider were also both made by her.

You can get to know Vec a little bit better here and Georgie here

This is my first time writing for Scud as well as my first time writing in third person in a long time, so please go easy on me.

CW for swearing, mention of medical procedures (she is a doctor, after all), a teeny tiny bit of sexual content if you squint really hard

Word count: 3.8k

@gothic-pumpkin you asked to be tagged in this <3

I'm not joking when I say I screamed into my pillow the other night because I love them so much these two make me absolutely feral I need to be put down or sedated or something

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Vec sighed, running a hand through her hair as she rested her elbows on the counter.

First, there was spilling hot coffee all over her fresh scrubs. Then, there was cutting her finger on a can of Monster, followed by dropping her keys in the toilet and burning her toast to a blackened crisp.

And that was all before even setting foot out the door.

While pulling up to a stoplight on her way to the hospital, her 2007 Toyota Corolla came to a halt, the dreaded sound of repeated clicks filling the car as she tried to start it again. A kind stranger stopped to give her a jump start, allowing her to make it to the auto shop just down the street, but not before she took a moment to white-knuckle the steering wheel and scream at the top of her lungs.

When it rains, it pours.

“Just what I thought. Dead battery,” a man behind the counter called out as he approached from the back. His name badge branded ‘manager’ swayed around his neck as he walked, creating a soft tapping sound as it clacked against the buttons of his shirt. “We can do it today, but it’s gonna be a while. We’re a bit backed up.” He reached under the counter into a drawer and pulled out an intake form. “You gonna wait around?”

“No, I’m heading to work,” Vec corrected, flipping her phone open to send a quick text to her best friend.

Vec: Car broke down on the road. Having the worst day :( Ginny: Oh no :( Ginny: Hoping something good comes out of this shitty day <3

That was Georgie, always whipping out her relentless optimism whenever the moment called for it.

“Your name?” the man asked.

“Lydia Vector. V-e-c-t-o-r.” She slipped her phone back into her pocket, grabbing a scrunchie and pulling her long black hair into a ponytail. “I prefer to go by Vec, though.”

“I’ll put both,” he said.

As she flattened and tied up her hair, a movement out of the corner of her peripheral caught her attention, and her eyes trailed over to one of the mechanics. He was tinkering with something, a welding gun in his hand and a bandana tied around his head to keep his soft brown hair from falling in his eyes.

And she was practically drooling after just one look at him.

“Hey,” she asked, nodding her head in the mechanic’s direction, “the cutie with the bandana. What’s his name?”

The man’s gaze followed her nod to his employee in the corner of the room. “That’s Josh,” he explained, the sound emanating from the depth of his chest a hybrid between a scoff and a chuckle, “he’s uh…he’s a bit of a wildcard.”

A small smile crept across Vec’s lips. She, too, had been granted the title of “wildcard,” both by her best friend & her family. She was already looking forward to meeting her match.

“We close at eight,” the manager interjected, clearing his throat before he continued, “if you can get here before then, you’ll have it back today.”

“Oh, that’s perfect. I’m supposed to be off at six. Might be a bit late, but I should be here before you close,” Vec assured, slipping her keys back into the pocket of her scrubs, “that’s the life of an ER doctor for you.” She gave the manager a grateful smile as she scooped a fresh can of Monster from her bag. “Thank you again. Today has been a nightmare.”

“Not a problem, ma’am,” he reassured, returning the grin, “we’ll call you when it’s done. I hope your day gets better.”

“Thank you. Me too.”

Before heading out the door, Vec looked back over her shoulder to steal one last glance at the handsome mechanic. Torn between wanting to give him her number on the spot and not wanting to be disrespectful and corner him at his workplace, she opted for the latter, hoping he would be there when she returned. Plus, she was already running behind. “Cutie with the bandana” Josh would have to wait.

Little did she know, she hadn’t been the only one stealing glances.

He’d taken notice of her the second she walked in the door. A little frazzled, hair disheveled from forgetting to brush it during the chaos of her morning, eyes tinged red from the stress cry she had in her car before coming inside. But he saw right past all of that.

It was almost angelic the way she ran her fingers through her hair, gathering it into a high ponytail. Her hair was so long that even then, it still reached far down her back. Though her eyes were tinted red, the ocean blue of her irises were the most stunning color he’d ever seen. The smile she gave the manager as she left, the way her scrubs hugged her body…the light thumping in his chest was beginning to pick up speed.

“Josh!” another mechanic called out, smacking him in the chest with the back of his hand. Though it stung, even that was barely able to pull him out of the clouds and back down to reality. “C’mon man, help me with this!”

“S-sorry,” Josh stuttered, subtly shaking his head and blinking rapidly a few times to further pull himself from his trance.

Over the course of her shift, Vec had forgotten all about her car and the shitty start she’d had to her day. She didn’t forget, though, about the cutie with the bandana. He’d been nestled in the back of her mind all day, creeping his way to the front at every few-and-far-between free moment she had. All Vec could do is hope he’d be there when she returned.

A nasty bout of gangrene and a couple of motorcycle accidents later, she was back in the staff locker room, eager to be home and in bed after being on her feet all day. Stepping out the bathroom stall, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, and it was only in that moment that it occurred to her what time it was and that it was, in fact, past closing time at the auto shop. She answered the phone with a sigh, repeatedly mentally kicking herself for letting time slip away from her like that.

“I’m so sorry, my shift ran over,” she apologized as she opened her locker, scrambling to grab her jacket and her bag.

“My wife’s an ER nurse, I get it. Don’t worry about it,” the manager said, “one of my guys offered to stay late so you could pick it up.”

Vec set her bag on the bench behind her, holding her phone between her shoulder and her cheek as she slipped her arms into her jacket sleeves. “I can’t ask any of you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask. He offered,” the man corrected. The jingling of keys filled her ear, followed by the ‘click’ of a door lock. “If you’re gonna be later than nine, try to call if you can and let him know.”

“Oh my God, thank you.” Her shoulders relaxed as she breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

The clock on her phone read 8:45pm. The auto shop was only about a mile up the road, she thought, she could easily make it. As she reached the front doors of the hospital, she sent another series of texts to Georgie.

Vec: Picking up my car Vec: If I don’t text you by 9:30, call me until I answer Ginny: Be safe <3

It had only just gotten dark, the streetlights coming on as she stepped out the automatic hospital doors. The road was still busy, as the streets of Atlanta often were, flooded with cars late into the night. Despite all the lights and amount of people outside, she still kept her wits about her as she walked.

She stood at only 5 foot 7, yet despite her average size, she had surprising combat skills, her Navy SEAL brothers having taught her everything they knew. She’d handled men bigger than her before, once breaking one’s nose, and other bones, after she caught him trying to spike her drink at a bar. Still, she found comfort in toying with her small blue canister of pepper spray and clenching her keys between her fingers.

The walk to the auto shop was brief, only around 15 minutes or so, nothing noteworthy aside from a group of college students stumbling their way toward downtown. A car drove past with their windows down, blasting a song that was one of Vec’s favorites from her high school years, and she caught herself softly singing along to the tune long after the car passed by, all the way to the front door of the tiny auto shop.

Removing her cap and scrunchie, she shook her hair out, fluffing it with her fingers and adjusting her glasses on her nose. Cupping a hand around her eyes and peering through the glass of the front door, she saw him propped on a stool behind the counter, flipping through some sort of book she couldn’t quite make out, that soft brown hair tied up out of his eyes.

The cutie with the bandana.

Josh had kept himself occupied by flipping through old comic books his boss kept in his office and crafting little sketches on a notepad as he eagerly awaited for her to return. The sketches were small but chaotic, the random words scribbled alongside them acting as triggers for him to remember important details later.

This cutie with the bandana was an auto mechanic by day and inventor by night.

She knocked softly on the glass, tapping it gently with her knuckle as to not spook him. Peeling his peepers away from his half-completed drawing, he nearly lit up when he saw it was her standing there on the sidewalk, giving him a small wave and a smile. He quickly shoved the notepad into his pocket and hopped off the stool, doing his best to keep his cool as he walked as to not appear too eager.

During those few seconds as he approached and opened the door, he was finally close enough for her to get a good look at his facial features. He had the cutest button nose, high cheekbones, and piercing eyes that were the most breathtaking shade of blue she’d ever seen. Vec had to clench her jaw and repeatedly swallow to keep herself from drooling.

Blue was her favorite color, it always had been. Now, she had yet another reason for it to be.

“Cutie with the bandana at your service,” he greeted with a smirk as he held the door open for her.

Blood rushed to her cheeks as she stepped inside, the chill of the evening Georgia air being cut off as he closed the door and the dread setting in at the realization that someone had told him about her earlier comments. “Oh God,” she groaned, rubbing between her eyebrows as embarrassment flooded her system at an overwhelming rate, “Jesus, I’m…God, I’m so sorry.” She sheepishly trailed behind him to the counter, keeping her gaze on her feet, practically stumbling over her words. “I, uh…I have a tendency to be very…forward. Christ, this is humiliating, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. You know what you want, and you go for it. I like that.” Biting the inside of her bottom lip, an anxious habit of hers, she peeled her cerulean eyes from the floor, this time locking them with his. The feeling in the pit of her stomach was more than just butterflies. “My name’s Josh. Friends call me Scud.”

“Like ‘stud’?” Vec asked, and he nodded, “interesting. How’d you get that?”

“Could ask the same about—“ he paused to glance down at the form, as if he didn’t study her name on that paper over and over again before she arrived— “‘Vec.”

“I believe I asked you first.” Her tone was playful, oozing with flirtation, and that sweet pink flush returned to her cheeks yet again. Scud was never particularly drawn to pink, but now, it was quickly becoming his favorite color.

“And I asked you second,” he teased. He pulled a pen from his pocket and removed the cap with his teeth, spitting it onto the counter next to him. “How’s that saying go? ‘Second is the best, first is the worst?’”

Scud was immediately kicking himself for his choice of words. In his attempt to flirt back, he’d just sounded like an asshole.

“Wow,” she scoffed with a smirk, slightly wide-eyed and drawing the sounds of her words for dramatic effect.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He was nearly stumbling over his words to apologize, desperate to correct himself. “Probably should’ve went with ‘ladies first’.”

“It’s a nickname I got in high school. Too many Lydias in my class. What about yours?”

“Mine too.”

“Too many Lydias in your class as well?” If he wanted to tease, she could too.

“Cute and funny. You’re quite a combo,” Scud complimented as he worked at filling in the blank spaces on her form.

Vec ran a hand over her cheeks, attempting to hide that she was already turning red again. She could dish the flirtation on all day. Taking it, though, was a different story.

“So how come you didn’t just go by Stud?” Her eyes widened and immediately dropped to the counter, practically bugging out of her skull, and her jaw was on the floor. It was as if the words left her mouth on their own accord.

He was clearly reciprocating the flirting, but there was still something that felt wrong about it. He was still working, after all. She’d often fallen victim to being flirted with at her workplace, so she was well acquainted with the discomfort that came with that. Fearing she was crossing boundaries, she apologized once again. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

He found it endearing, flattering, and downright adorable, the way she couldn’t seem to stop herself from from being flirtatious, and Scud would’ve been lying if he said it didn’t help to boost his ego. A young woman comes in, and not only is she drop-dead gorgeous, but she was flirting with him? He was on cloud nine.

“Told you you don’t have to be sorry.” A sweet, boyish smile crossed his lips as their eyes locked again. He wanted to dive right into those crystal blue pools and never find his way back out. “So you like working as a nurse?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Your scrubs.” Scud gestured up and down her body with a nod, his gaze lingering on her curves for just a moment too long. Thankfully, not a moment long enough for her to notice.

A soft, amused chuckle trickled out from her half-smile, her eyes falling to the floor for half a second before meeting his again. Scud swallowed hard, his hand trailing to and holding his abdomen. The fluttering in his stomach was an unfamiliar sensation.

Was she making him nervous? He was a confident guy, albeit maybe a bit too confident at times. He wasn’t new to the world of women by any means and could often be a bit forward himself. He too knew what he wanted and would go for it. So what was with the butterflies?

“Oh no, not RN,” Vec replied, reaching into her pocket to pull out her badge, flexing her credentials, “MD.”

“Shit.” Scud’s stomach dropped, fearing his asinine assumption just ruined any chance he had with the beautiful doctor before him. “Fucking this up, aren’t I?”

She folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes, that sweet giggle traveling to his ears again. There was a glow radiating off of her. It was almost ethereal. “Now when did I say that?”

“So what kind of doctor are you?” Scud asked as he rotated the paper around to face her, tapping on the ‘signature’ line on the bottom with the tip of his pen.

“Trauma surgeon,” Vec explained as she dug around in her bag for her wallet, “emergency room. Bullet wounds, amputations, skin grafts, all that jazz.” Successfully finding her wallet, she handed over her card, their fingers barely grazing past each other.

Though their touch was small, the electricity that sparked between them could’ve lit the entire city of Atlanta.

“Damn,” Scud replied, swallowing hard once again and using his hand that wasn’t tapping keys on the register to steady himself on the counter. That brief moment when their fingers touched turned his knees to jelly. “You’ve probably seen some stuff, huh?”

“You could say that.” Her knees had also turned to jelly, and the butterflies in her stomach amped up, having made a home in her stomach from the moment she walked in the door. She was just a little better at maintaining her composure.

Taking the pen off the counter and twirling it in her fingers, a phenomenal idea crossed her mind. She nodded to the empty space behind him as she signed off on the form. “You got a sticky note back there, Josh?”

His name sounded so sweet when it dripped off her lips like that.

Hoping this was going in the direction he thought, he pulled his notepad from his pocket, tearing one of the small pages out and sliding it across the counter to her. “Thank you.”

As he ran her card and printed the receipt, she etched out a series of numbers and some words before folding the sheet in half and holding it out to him. “What’s that?”

“My number. For if you’d like to…continue this conversation. And you’re not off the market.” She let her fingers linger on his for just a second before pulling away, taking her sweet time in doing so. The thumping in Scud’s chest was now ringing in his ears.

“Been on the market a while. Surprised someone like yourself is too.” Slipping the note into his jacket pocket, he slid the receipt across the counter to her. “Just need your John Hancock and you’re good to go.”

As she signed off on the paper, blood continued to flow to her cheeks despite her best efforts to prevent it. However, the embarrassment of turning pink only made it worse, and it didn’t help that Scud was taking notice. “You do that a lot, don’t you?”

“Do what a lot?” She hoped feigning ignorance might deter him from inquiring further, but when he motioned to his own cheeks with his finger, she knew it was to no avail. “Oh, yeah. Unfortunately, I do.”

“Well it’s cute, so keep it up.” Naturally, that only made the baby pink of her cheeks darken into a crimson red. Scud couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander and picture her with those flushed cheeks in a more…nefarious situation.

He took her receipt off the counter and chuckled under his breath at her signature as he placed it into the register and locked it. Doctor’s handwriting. “C’mon, car’s out back. I’ll walk you.”

She slowly, cautiously stepped around the side of the counter, ensuring to keep at least a few feet of distance between them. Sure, he was cute, and yes, she absolutely loved that he was reciprocating the flirting, but he was still a stranger. She kept one hand in her pocket, fiddling with her canister of pepper spray, the other free and at her side.

“I’m not gonna bite,” he promised, “don’t even have a bark you gotta worry about.” As she took a couple of small steps closer, he put his hands in the air, interlocking his fingers around the back of his neck. “Can keep them like this if it makes you feel better.”

She nodded, and keeping a hand on her pepper spray, she followed him down a tiny hallway, still making sure to keep a couple of feet between them. She had a good judge of character, it was one of her strongest skills, and her gut only had good things to say about this guy. Even then, especially as a woman, one could never be too cautious.

The bitter evening air greeted them as Scud opened the back door to the building, holding it open for her with his body. He kept his hands locked behind his head, only removing them once they were at her car to reach into his pocket and hand her her key. Their fingers brushed again, and this time, he kept his in place for a few moments, letting the electricity dance between them. She kept her eyes on them, watching him toy with the key resting in her hand, and the same soft, amused giggle from earlier emerged from her chest once more. His baby blues were locked on her, watching strands of her black-as-night hair fall into her eyes and using every fiber of his being to restrain himself from reaching out to brush them away.

“Well, it was lovely to meet you, Josh,” Vec practically cooed, her lashes fluttering softly as her eyes flicked back to meet his, “thank you for staying. And I, uh, hope to hear from you. Sooner rather than later.”

That adorable, boyish smile returned to his face. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and folded his arms across his chest. “The pleasure was all mine. Now get home safe.”

“You too,” she replied.

Waltzing back toward the shop with a newfound pep in his step, Scud was far too eager to wait until he was back inside before tearing open the note she’d written for him. Her doctor handwriting was more legible here, and she’d clearly taken time to make sure it came out nice and pretty.

Vec 555-555-5555 Thanks for being my something good today :)

She tossed her bag in the passenger seat, removing her glasses for a moment and running her hands over her face. Exhaustion was beginning to set in, the weight of sleep heavy in her under-eyes, and her attempts to hold back her yawns were to no avail. As she buckled herself in and started her car, her phone vibrated in the cupholder. Normally, she wasn’t one to answer calls from unknown numbers, but her gut feeling told her exactly who to expect on the other end. And it was correct.

“You said soon. This soon enough?”

“I’d say so,” she chuckled as she slipped her glasses back onto her nose and adjusted them. She covered her mouth to stifle yet another yawn. “How about I text you in the morning? I gotta be up at 5.”

“I expect no later than 5:15,” he joked. The beaming smile on his face was evident in the tone of his voice.

“You have my word,” she promised. Vec always kept her word. It was worth more than gold to her.

After hanging up, she flipped to her messages to send one last text to Georgie before heading home, her cheeks already beginning to ache as her big, goofy grin somehow continued to grow larger.

Vec: So something good came out of this shitty day :)

QOTU taglist: @ripleyswife

General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie

Hit me up if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist(s)

#quartersoftheundeadau #quartersoftheundead #they match each others freak so well it's almost criminal #quarters of the undead au #quarters of the undead #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd au #scud frohmeyer x oc #scud frohmeyer x lydia vector #scud x vec #scud frohmeyer #josh frohmeyer

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bashfulgnome · 24 days ago

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Disturbance (Chapter 1 - Torment)

Fic below the cut; alternate links: Ao3 || FF

Hello everybody! Today I'd like to present to you a story that I've been chipping away at for a few years before actually writing it all down. This will be my first published multi-chapter fic—I usually tend to favor oneshots, but this one is too big for just one chapter. It's been a long time coming, since I wanted to handle what's being covered here with as much dignity as possible and didn't want to accidentally trivialize anything. For reference, this takes place when Felix and Tamora's relationship is starting to get serious.

A warning, as this is a little heavier than my normal stories: if you're sensitive to scenarios where alcohol is involved in near-sexual situations, then please use your judgment on reading this one. The scene in question is in the first chapter and will be referenced in later chapters.

Felix startled awake to what sounded like a small explosion, followed by the shattering of glass and a series of hissed profanities. In a daze, he felt around for his special lady, who was absent from her usual spot beside him in their bed.

"Tammy?!"

He grabbed his hammer off his toolbelt hanging next to the nightstand and jumped out of bed, running towards the source of the sound that had awakened him.

"Tamora?! Are you okay?"

Reaching the bathroom, he flicked on the light switch. Tamora stood behind the remains of the bathroom mirror, her right hand still balled into a fist. Blood coated most of her hand and dripped into a small puddle on the tiled floor. She blinked and stared blankly at the floor as she adjusted to the light, a glaze having just recently cleared from her eyes, watching the inky red fluid channeling into the tile grout.

Looking over to the wall, Felix noticed an impressive fist-shaped crater where the mirror had hung.

"Here, darlin', let me help with that..." He guided her to the sink and scooped handfuls of warm water from the stream to rinse out the cuts. Tamora only moved to lean on the counter with her other arm, stone-faced and unresponsive to any apparent pain, with her injured hand completely limp.

Once the bath had cleared away the blood and stray debris, it revealed ribbons of torn skin peeling off her knuckles, flayed by the glass shards. Felix's stomach wrenched at the sight and he tapped her hand with his hammer, immediately healing her. He patted her hand dry with a towel and took it in his for a kiss where the injuries had been moments before.

"All better!" he piped, with a hesitant smile.

The pleasant tingle of the hammer snapped her out of her statue-like state, and at the contact of his kiss she reflexively held his hand more tightly.

She raised her other hand to her face and rubbed her eyes, getting a clear look at what once was the mirror.

"Aw, Felix, I'm sorry." Her voice came out in a low rasp, a tinge of shame in her tone. "Guess I wasn't runnin' on full batteries. I saw movement and didn't wanna take any chances..."

He shook his head.

"I'll have that mirror good as new tomorrow mornin', don't you worry about it. Just watch out you don't step on the pieces."

—

Her muscles had already tensed when she woke up. The one reassurance she offered herself was that at least she hadn't accidentally clocked her poor little guy in the face or tossed him off the bed in the waning hallucinations of the nightmare.

Too overwhelmed to scream, she could only watch the neon-green entrails flooding the cab of the long-suffering old pickup truck and gumming the moving parts to a stop. What started as a drive into town on an errand from Mama had corrupted when the cloudy sky turned to charcoal, split down the middle with a thundering tear, and poured the disgusting green metallic slurry into every orifice of the vehicle. The doors worked but she couldn't leave, not with him still in the passenger seat, and the liquid contents of the cab stayed suspended inside despite the opening available.

Brad couldn't move, and couldn't breathe through the thick sludge as she somehow could. It dripped out of his nose and mouth whenever he tried to talk to her, and he fearfully refused her attempts to push him out of the truck. The struggle lasted for hours until her hands phased through him and she couldn't physically touch him anymore. 'Aren't you freezing?' he'd nonsensically sputtered out, before the cy-bugs climbed in through the open doors and each began gnawing on a different part of him...

She bit her hand to keep from vomiting at the memory of it. If Mama's land on the outskirts of town wasn't safe then neither was a game right across the station from those monsters—at least that's what her instincts would not stop screaming at her. She wilted slightly at her self-assigned post, head lightly knocking against the glass pane in front of her.

Felix awoke to see her silhouette by the window, leaning on the sill.

"Is something wrong?" he whispered.

She glanced back at him.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Lady Love. What's going on?"

"Thought I heard something," she shrugged.

He joined her at the window and looked out into the familiar surroundings of his game. The perpetual midnight sky lay peacefully above as it always had. Everything was still; Niceland wasn't the sort of place where anyone was out and about at this hour. Beyond the screen, he could faintly make out the flickering lampposts by the buildings across the street from the arcade, and the flash of the streetlights illuminating the occasional passing vehicle.

He placed a hand on hers and almost recoiled at how cold it was.

"We're okay, Tammy. Everyone's okay."

She sighed.

"I know."

He paused for a few minutes, quietly sifting through his collection of uncertainties to try and figure out how to respond.

"Why don't you come back to bed? It's awful chilly tonight," was the best he could muster. The only pajama clothing she wore was an oversized T-shirt, and he had no idea how long she'd been standing there. She didn't even seem to be aware of the temperature.

The sergeant turned over her hand to grasp his, but said nothing.

"Tamora, everyone's safe and we're not goin' anywhere. I'll be right here when you wake up. That's a promise."

In the low light he saw the shadow of a smile.

"I'll hold you to it."

They returned to bed and Felix made sure to pull the covers up over her shoulders. She tucked him into her arms and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. The thumping of his heartbeat—quicker than hers as expected, but steady and reassuring—lulled her to sleep.

He had thought it was just one bad night for her. But in the morning light when he went to open the curtains, he noticed overlapping sets of her handprints on the part of the windowsill where she had been keeping watch.

—

Several nights later he woke up to a harsh, low scratching making its way down the hallway outside the apartment. He froze in terror—Tamora had stayed late for work and gone out afterwards, telling him not to wait up for her. He broke into an instant cold sweat at the thought of a cy-bug evading her watch and coming into the game.

As quietly as he could, he rolled out of bed and rummaged around in his toolbox next to the closet. Finding a heavy wrench, he clasped it tightly and snuck towards the entryway. He hesitated only a moment to pick up his hammer as well.

The distant rumble rose to a horrible, continuous scraping as it came closer and closer to his door. Felix's heart pounded and shook his limbs, making his grip on the tools tremble.

The sound reached his door and stopped. Felix's ears rang in the sudden silence and his mouth went dry. He almost fell backwards at the sudden forceful knock afterwards.

"Felix? Babe?"

"Tammy?"

A long pause.

"Yeah?"

He collapsed on the floor, panting in relief.

"You...you really scared me, honeybadger! Give me just a second and I'll let you in."

After composing himself, he opened the door and nearly hit the floor again when Tamora fell into the room, landing on her hands and knees.

"Tammy!! Oh my land, are you alright?!"

He took her hand to help her up, and she snickered.

"Wanna...come get comfy down here."

The sour smell of alcohol broke over him in a wave. For the second time that night, he put a hand to his chest and caught his breath. He chanced a peek out the door and saw a long gash running down the hallway at about her shoulder height. It was impressive that she even had enough physical and mental acuity left to make it all the way to the apartment.

"Tamora, you're going to bed."

She cocked her eyebrows and grinned.

"Can you walk?"

"Kinda stupid question...issat. Watch."

She slowly rose to her feet and stumbled again, but ran with the forward momentum and charged right through the bedroom doorway.

Felix rushed into the bedroom and turned on a light to find her hunched against the wall, fist in the air, as though she was celebrating a victory. He placed his tools down on the nightstand, and with some effort he guided her to the bed.

"Tammy, listen to me. I'm gonna bring you some water in case you need it later. If you have to go to the bathroom, yell for me. I don't want you falling down in there and hittin' your head on anything. I'll be on the couch."

She stared at him for a few minutes and nodded.

"You're...the best. Take such good care a' me..." she grabbed his face in one hand and lightly shook his head back and forth by the chin, squeezing his cheeks. "Cute little fella. Very pretty."

Felix chuckled and a blush crept onto his cheeks. He picked up her hand off his face, running a thumb over her knuckles. She watched him leave for the kitchen and return with a large mug of water, then gratefully downed it in seconds when he handed it to her.

"There you go,” he sighed, placing the empty mug back on the nightstand. “Now, I don't know how you can ever be comfortable in all this armor, but let me at least make sure you don't have to sleep in it."

He removed her boots and got to work unlatching the plates covering her torso.

"I have to...you need to know. You're…" Tamora put her hands on his shoulders and stared at him, desperately trying to overcome her temporary lack of verbal communication ability.

"I’m not sure I understand. Can you show me what’s going on?"

She hugged him and kissed the base of his neck, patting his back.

"Need to do...something here. It—the words," she sputtered in frustration.

"You're all right. Do you wanna think about...the words while we get ready?"

Tamora nodded and released him.

After a few minutes of decoupling and shifting around the various pieces of her armor, Felix noticed that she had become unusually quiet. Taking his eyes off his work, he looked up to see her staring at him again, pupils dilated. He tried to ignore it and pulled the now-disconnected chestplate off of her, but the action set something off.

"It was this...!" she trailed off as she whipped around, startling him, and pinned him down to the mattress with a sloppy kiss.

The taste alone told him she’d had some of Tapper's strongest, a concoction that had knocked him off his stool from just a sniff when he'd curiously sampled it. Her attempt to unbutton his pajama shirt was quickly abandoned for lack of coordination, in favor of rolling it up.

"You wanna do...like that, Fix-It? Sssomeone's bold today..."

Alarmed, Felix pushed against one shoulder and pulled at the other, trying to roll or twist her off of himself. He could hardly get the leverage to even shift himself around, let alone move her.

"Top, huh. Hafta work for that..."

He shook his head and managed to pull his legs out from under her on either side. Feet flat on the bed, he heaved himself a few inches up and away, causing her to slide off of him and onto the quilt. The motion put enough distance between them for him to brace his hands against her shoulders and nudge her backwards.

"We're not doing that right now! Tam, for goodness' sake you’re in no condition for any of this!"

Something about the panic in his voice and expression stopped her. He very rarely shouted, and realizing that she was the cause of his fear chilled over her amorous state. The room pitched from side to side as she propped herself up on her hands and shifted further away from him.

He worried that his heavy breathing and the inadvertent redness of his cheeks from the kiss would drown out his words. But for an instant, Felix saw realization and shock pass over her face before she grunted out a soft embarrassed noise and rolled over. She shuffled to the far side of the bed, facing away from him.

Catching his breath, the situation caught up with him and made his insides churn. He refused to have that sort of experience with her in her current state, and if she’d regretted it he wouldn't have been able to forgive himself.

He kissed the top of her ear.

"I'm sorry for yelling. But you're not doing very well right now. We'll talk about it in the morning. For now I just need to get you settled."

"Hey...hurts?"

"What hurts?"

She shook her head and pointed over her shoulder at him.

"Me? No, you didn't hurt me. I'm okay. You just...gave me a bit of a fright."

She turned around and fumbled for his hand, kissing his fingers.

"Sorry...brain’s bad. Thought you wanted...I’m sorry."

Of course. She was still Tammy. But he couldn't name what he was feeling. She'd never have gotten to this point in a normal state and she even had the awareness not to hurt him now, inebriated more than he’d ever seen her before.

He ached to communicate, every fiber of him wanting to come up with some right combination of words that would fix this, but he had to remind himself that she wouldn't be able to process it anyway. Felix gave Tamora's hand a squeeze before tucking it into her chest, and smiled feebly.

"I'm going to finish getting you ready to go to sleep, is that okay?"

“Yeah,” She nodded. “S’okay...I won’t move.”

Over the next several minutes he removed the rest of her armor and laid it in a neat pile by the foot of the bed. By the time he left and came back with the refilled mug of water and empty bowl, she was already asleep. He left the items on the nightstand and pulled up her covers, tucking all of the available pillows under her head and shoulders to elevate them and keep her from rolling over.

Seeing her in the condition she was in that night twisted and stabbed at him. If she'd just been injured or gotten into a fight then it'd be obvious how to help. And if it wasn't, he could ask. But this...a constant background noise of low-grade anxiety grew louder at the sight of her obscured vulnerability made physical.

"I don't know what happened out there but have a nice rest, sugarplum," Felix whispered, wiping his eyes before they could produce any tears. He kissed the tip of her nose and left for the couch with an armful of extra sheets.

—

Tagging some of my WIR buddies: @ask-icancraft-it @ashleybenlove @sgtcalhouns @coneygoil @kittysfigurines24 @fix-it-feesh @shitpost-it-tristan @make-it-mavis @datamining-your-heart @nijimarii @scarfboyxiv @secretsocietyofgamejumpers @juanitascribbles @wreckitralphrestart

Let me know if you would like your name added to or removed from the tags for future fics!

#wreck it ralph #hero's cuties #sergeant calhoun #fix it felix jr #my fanfics #fanfics

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edgessunflower · 9 months ago

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If no one is standing beside you

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Fem reader

Description: Rhea stands with you when you prosecute your attacker

Rhea holds your hand as everyone listens to the jury give out the verdict while holding your breath. You were attacked while walking to your friend's house that was just half a block down the road from your house leading to your face getting busted open and a small brain bleed which worried everyone about your condition you were in the hospital for the next five and a half weeks with the police questioning you not too long into your stay as you slowly remember what happened to you. The one comfort that you had which kept grounded and sane during the police interviews and stay in the hospital was your girlfriend Rhea who never left your side as soon as she was by your bedside even for a second, it was during the third week that you decided to press charges and take your case to court so that the person wouldn't come back for you but also wouldn't harm another person ever again detectives work to find the person responsible after you get a visit and talk with a forensic artist and the sketch was put up and shown everywhere until you finally got the news that they had caught your attacker two days after your release from the hospital. Somehow your attacker gets released which makes you afraid and stay in your home while rhea called and talked with every type of law enforcement involved with your case and raised hell until they found him and not only identified him by DNA but also had you identify him out of a line up which sent you into a panic attack when you saw him leading to your case finally being taken to court where the judge heard testimonies from the people who had witnessed the attack and jumped in to help you along with a man who beat up your attacker after he shoved his teenage daughter before you took the stand, you pour out every detail from beginning to end before being led out where rhea pulled you into a bear hug as you cried. Everyone is pulled back into the court room after six hours of the jury deliberating the verdict leading back to you hold onto rhea's hand tightly as a jury member stands up with verdict, "On the charge of Assault and battery, we find the defendant guilty" the first charge makes your heart lightly pound but the next charge makes it soar "On the charge of Attempted murder, we find the defendant guilty" you were shaking with quiet sobs as the judge sentenced the man who could have taken your life not just to a few years but to life in prison without parole, you yell with joy outside the court house after thanking the prosecutors who fought for you before celebrating the outcome with rhea, your friends, and family.

#rhea ripley #wwe x reader #wwe #rhea ripley x reader

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mollymauk-teafleak · 11 months ago

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I wouldn't fall for someone I thought couldn't misbehave

I actually wrote a fic, go figure! Huge thanks to @minky-for-short for getting me into Hazbin and @hangsters for the support and love! I got a lot more where this came from <3

Please reblog and comment over on Ao3!

----

They've been told to live tonight however they want. And with tomorrow's Extermination looming and the Hazbin Hotel right in the middle of the target, there's only one thing Angel Dust wants to do.

And that's the bartender.

---

You didn’t wind up in hell without knowing fear. Whether you got there by painting it on other people or seeing it in your reflection or both, it didn’t matter, to everyone down below, fear was like an old friend.

And to Angel Dust, fear was like a toxic hook up whose calls he couldn’t make himself ignore after years of dissatisfying back alley orgasms.

All to say, he knew the taste of it, sharp like battery acid and sour like cheap, soapy lube. He knew how it sounded, laughter stretched so thin you could see through it, the whir of a camera lens pulling close to try and see where you were breaking. He knew how it smelled, sweat and latex and dry ice. He knew how it felt, cheap faux fur and overwarm, foreign skin.

Angel had been sucking fear’s dick for longer than he cared to remember. But what surprised him was that he didn’t see it here.

They should be scared. They should all be pissing themselves in terror. In who knew how many hours, the worst Extermination they’d known would descend, with their home and everyone in it smack bang in the center of the target. And Heaven wasn’t in the habit of missing their shot.

But when Angel knocked back another shot of top shelf whiskey, he didn’t taste fear in it. The laughter that surrounded him was real, all he could feel was a warmth that he wasn’t sure came from the drink.

Maybe this was what fear felt like when you didn’t face it alone.

“You’re staring.”

Angel didn’t have much of a defense, especially when he hadn’t even realized that Vaggie had moved onto the barstool next to him and jumped a mile when she started speaking, nearly spilling his next shot. Because he was busy staring.

So he took evasive action instead, trying to piece his cool back together, “Ain’t you got a girlfriend waiting on you upstairs? What are you still doing down here?”

“Finishing my drink,” she gave him a cool, bemused look, proving her point by draining the rest of her glass, “I don’t think any of us are in a position to be wasting alcohol tonight. Or time.”

“Thanks for the riddle, toots,” Angel rolled his eyes, taking the shot before someone else could come along and nearly make him spill it.

“Want me to say it plainly then?” Vaggie arched an eyebrow.

Angel scowled but he wasn’t mad at Vaggie, not really. He was more pissed at himself for not hiding it better. The five time winner of the Golden Tongue Award (for best performance in a pornographic visual production) should probably have been able to school his face.

He let his eyes wander across the bar, if there was no point in hiding it anymore. Husk was tossing a cocktail shaker from one hand to the other before sending it up behind his back, bouncing it between his wings, making it disappear and reappear before pouring out an electric blue liquid into Nifty’s waiting glass, to her immense delight. He bowed to the slight but enthusiastic applause, showing Angel a glimpse of the showman he’d been once upon a time.

It wasn’t just that he was handsome. It wasn’t just that he was Angel’s exact type and then some, that gravelly voice, the snark, the emotional unavailability, the tortured past that muzzled him, his boxes were well and truly ticked. If it was just that, Angel would have torn his clothes off, rode him on that bar and moved on with his afterlife.

But Husk had pushed back. He’d growled and snapped and thrown up more walls until Angel started to see getting the cat’s trousers off as a professional challenge. Robbed of his only way to safely interact with people, to feel like he was in control, Angel had fallen apart in front of him on one of the worst days he’d had in a while.

And all Husk had done was put him back together again.

So it wasn’t just that he was hot, there was a hell of a lot more to it than that. And there was the fear again, souring the booze on his tongue.

“I ain’t a fan of straight talking,” Angel grunted, hunching his shoulders and spinning the now empty glass on the edge of his finger.

“Figured,” Vaggie sighed in a way that might almost suggest she actually cared, hopping down off the barstool.

She looked ready to disappear up the stairs but something made her pause, maybe the weight of their borrowed time, maybe something dangerously close to sentiment. But she did stop, reaching out and putting a hand on Angel’s shoulder.

“All I’m gonna say…I’ve been told the only way to survive this is to fight for love. Find someone you can’t live without and go out there with one goal. Protecting them.”

Like a magnet, those words drew his eyes over to Husk again. And this time, he looked back, feeling his gaze. Those narrow yellow eyes, glowing like bulbs on a marquee or LEDs tempting a sucker to a slot machine, crinkled a little at the edges, shooting the spider demon a wink.

Angel groaned inwardly at himself. He was doomed and Heaven didn’t have anything to do with it.

“Someone like me don’t even know what love is,” Angel murmured, more to himself than to Vaggie, “Might as well be speaking a different language, sugar.”

But he heard him anyway, those damn sharp ears of hers, “Then what better time to make a change?”

Before he could shield himself with sarcasm, she was gone, off up the stairs to someone who loved her. To another heartbeat against her own, arms around her, a silent promise that she was cared about, no matter what the nightmares said. Angel felt a pang in his chest, somehow finding the poor sense to want something he’d never had.

“Another drink?”

Angel dredged up a crooked grin, “Sure! Put it on my tab, I’ll come settle up with you tomorrow night.”

“Very funny,” Husk poured him a couple more shots to keep him going, though he was now without other customers.

Charlie and Vaggie had gone upstairs, Cherri had dragged Sir Pentious over to the pool table where she’d definitely crush him, Nifty was curled up in an unnervingly cat like way, sleeping on the bar and making Angel wonder if there hadn’t been a sedative jn that drink Husk made her. Alastor was who knew where, Angel only cared that Husk relaxed a lot more when he wasn’t around.

This was the best chance he was going to get.

Let’s get to living. His own words from earlier that night tried to move his mouth, tried to force him forward, tried to stop him being such a damned fucking coward and just say something…

“Actually…I think I’ll turn in,” he seized the rest of the shots in various hands and sank them one by one, trying to wash away the bitterness, “My aim gets real shitty if I don’t get my beauty sleep. And if I’m gonna die tomorrow, like hell am I going down with bags under my eyes. Did it once, never again.”

If he was the kind to hope, Angel Dust might have tried to convince himself he saw disappointment in those slitted eyes.

But Husk only gave a rolling shrug, collecting up the abandoned glasses, draining them of their last clinging dregs of amber liquid, “Funny, my luck seems to get better when I’m hungover. Sweet dreams, kid.”

Angel Dust chuckled, putting a little swing in his hips, shooting a smile over his shoulder, “Ain’t no other kind with me, baby.”

One last lie for the road.

At least he didn’t sleep at all, choosing the cloudy headed middle ground of lying back on his bed, staring at the ceiling and prodding listlessly at the ache in his chest. It was like when his tooth had been knocked out, unable to keep his tongue out of the tender, empty gap, no matter how much it made him wince. Fat Nuggets did the sleeping for both of them, snoring on Angel’s chest, every gravelly honk ruffling the feathers pink robe that always made Angel feel like he could hold it together for a few more minutes than he would without it.

He was angry at himself but that was nothing new, only the reason was old. It had been a fucking long time since he’d promised himself he was done hiding, done paring himself down because someone else wouldn’t like the taste. Lying here, feeling sorry for himself because he was too chickenshit to ask a guy to fuck him, he may as well have been back in 1940, worrying himself sick that his dad would be able to see his secret written on his face.

Well, Angel Dust wasn’t Anthony anymore. And Angel Dust was losing his goddamn patience. The worst had happened and then some, he’d lost his family, he’d lost his home, he’d lost his life but the one thing he didn’t have to do was hide anymore. Husk was down there, he’d say no or he’d say yes, either way was better than being too damn afraid to know.

And if he felt more about it, well that was his problem to deal with. It wasn’t like he was going to live much longer anyway.

Fat Nuggets squawked a little as Angel Dust sat up, displaced from his comfy position.

“Sorry, sweetie,” Angel kissed the top of his head, trying to make up for it by tucking him nicely in his own little bed, “Daddy’s got some living to do. Last minute and all but you know me.”

A quick check of his hair in the mirror, a quick fluff of the fur on his chest, like he was going down to meet some doll by his car and get swept off the the dance hall rather than going to proposition his surly friend for a quick and dirty end-of-their-afterlife fuck. But there was no harm in looking his best while he did it.

His reflection in this mirror looked a hell of a lot different than the one in his studio dressing room. There were half a hundred tiny little flaws that would have earned him a sharp, cutting comment from Valentino and maybe worse, depending on the moth’s mood. But Angel Dust didn’t think Husk would care, in fact, he seemed to get further with the guy when he went in the opposite direction to what work demanded of him. So he left them, as much as a disconnected, confused anxiety itched at him, one that hadn’t realized they weren’t at the studio.

He took a deep breath, holding his own gaze tight, “You’re a pro at this, ain’t nothing you haven’t seen before. You know the steps, boyo, curtain’s up.”

Angel went to the door of his room, feeling buoyed, feeling confident. Until, of course, he ran into something he hadn’t seen before.

At least it was soft. Though it cursed like a sailor.

“What the fuck?” Angel yelped, feathers suddenly thumping against his face.

“Will you keep your goddamn voice down, you’ll wake half the fucking hotel-”

“Husk?” Angel stepped back, blinking in confusion, “Were you…were you outside my door?”

The other demon’s irritation collapsed, fizzing away like an alka-seltzer to reveal the bitch of a hangover underneath. Expressions he’d never seen on that feline face tried unsuccessfully to hide, embarrassment and coyness and a blush barely visible under dark fur.

“Look, I…can I come in? Please?” he tacked the politeness on the end like he almost forgot it while running out the door.

“Uh…sure, hon?” Angel Dust stepped to one side, suddenly wishing he’d tidied up a little at any point since he first moved in. Or that the dildos tossed about where a more impressive size.

Husk didn’t seem to relax a little until the door was closed, until they were definitely alone. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, an old antique in amongst a lot of plastic and rubber, while Angel leaned against the door and wondered how he’d lost control of this so fast.

Eventually Husk sighed, tail twitching and betraying his nervousness, “Look. Feel free to tell me to take a hike here, fuck knows you’d have the right. But…I kept thinking about what Charlie said. About spending this night living how we wanted or whatever. And I…I can’t think of anything else I wanted to do but…”

Angel Dust knew he was grinning like an idiot but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t every day you got a royal flush laid out in front of you.

“What? What is it you wanna do, Whiskers?” he tilted his head, faux innocence sparkling in his voice as he batted his eyelashes, “Anything I can help you with?”

Husk’s fur bristled and he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Fuck, I knew you’d be like this, goddamnit-”

Panic gripped him, a terrifyingly certain realization that if Husk left now, if he drove him away, he wouldn’t be able to stand it, “Wait. Sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to fuck with you.”

The apology clearly caught the cat demon off guard, eyebrows rising. A small smile pulled at the edges of his mouth, “Well…guess that was the aim of my coming here…”

The grin came back, feeling more honest this time, more firmly in place. Angel stepped forward, offering one of his hands out to Husk, “Good…cos I was just on my way to ask you the same thing.”

He’d heard Husk bitch about his demon form a lot and in that moment, he could see why. Those ears and that tail were tells you could spot from a hundred miles. And right now they were telling Angel he was damn pleased.

Husk’s fingers- claws? -were calloused, whether from cards or chips or the keys of the sax he’d apparently played once upon a time. But they held Angel’s in a grip he could be certain of, one he knew instantly wouldn’t let go.

Angel had jumped on odds far worse than that.

They toppled onto the bed, swallowed by fur and silk. It took some maneuvering, making their strange forms fit but once they found it, it was fucking sweet. Suddenly there was a solid heat between his legs, something to grind into, fireworks exploding behind his eyes when he did. There was a smoky growl in his ear, a heady smell of whiskey and, fuck, Angel could have gotten drunk just off that. His hands moved of their own accord, two anchoring him to the headboard, the other two taking handfuls of soft, impossibly soft fur.

“Easy…” Husk rumbled when he pulled a little too hard.

“Sorry,” Angel Dust purred, splaying his legs wide, rolling his hips harder against Husk’s, “Just feels so good.”

Instead his hands wandered, finding where fur gave way to feather along that strong, broad back. The moment his fingers brushed there, that unfamiliar muscle, Husk jerked and moaned, the hardness in his trousers throbbing.

“Oh? Kitty liked that, huh?” Angel tittered, pressing one thumb into a hollow at the base of his wing, earning another strangled yowl.

“I swear to fuck, if you make me come in my pants like a goddamn teenager, I- fuck, baby, I’m sensitive there- ah…”

“I’d consider it a compliment, honey, don’t you worry,” Angel cooed, shivering happily at the way Husk’s chest vibrated when he touched him, like he was an instrument he could play.

“Call me old fashioned…”

Suddenly they were rolling, Angel Dust’s stomach dropping dizzily for a moment until he found himself straddling Husk, who was smirking up at him.

“But when I’m from?” he finished, voice sounding like everything amber and musk and honey in the world, “If you’re taking a fine man to bed, you let him take his pleasure first. It’s good manners, see? So how about you tell me what you want, Angel?”

Angel Dust was left with the sudden anxiety of having forgotten his next line in the script. Or worse, he’d never even fucking read it in the first place. The answer, perched miserably on the tip of his tongue was that he didn’t know.

He’d gotten too used to sex where the only thing that mattered was getting a good review, any pleasure he got was a secondary concern. He’d taught himself to like whatever his partner was willing to give, even when it called him a whore, even when it was too much, even when it hurt. The real pleasure had been the packet of powder or handful of pills that came after or before, not the sex itself.

His confusion must have shown on his face because Husk’s voice gentled, a paw coming up to lightly cup his face, “You want my mouth or my hands, baby?”

Angel Dust pushed his instincts away, “Mouth. I want you to tell me how I taste.”

Rolling again but this time, he enjoyed the free fall. Now Husk was between his legs, drawing down the sweatpants he wore to bed, just enough that he could free Angel’s dick. Angel kicked them the rest of the way off, letting Husk see all of him, legs falling open.

“Fuck…” his voice was melodic, hypnotic and hypnotized, “You look fucking gorgeous, baby…”

“And it’s all yours,” Angel panted raggedly, wrapping his long legs around Husk’s shoulders. For however long we’ve got left.

Husk’s purr sounded more like a car engine on its last legs, a rough and slightly threatening sound, but as he nosed and nuzzled at the base of Angel’s cock, it ran through his body like the best warm whiskey. In the dim light of his room, Angel could swear those spots on his wings were glowing, along with his eyes, which were fixed on Angel’s face like he was getting as much pleasure from watching him as he was from licking a broad stripe across his length.

Angel hissed, back arching up like his whole body was drawn towards that sensation, “Fuck, watch that sandpaper tongue…”

“Sorry. I’m kinda rough all over, baby,” he didn’t sound particularly sorry, flashing him a grin but he did ease up, hands taking hold of Angel’s thighs, keeping him spread wide so he could bury his face against him.

In the studio, Angel Dust had marks to hit, lines to gasp out, a camera to play up to. With Valentino, he had to make the right noises, he needed to sound scared, he needed to beg. But here, with Husk, out of reach of a script or a contract, he let moans and gasps pour heedlessly from his lips, he moved his body however it felt good. He was loud, loud enough to blow out a mic, he cursed and babbled things that didn’t make sense, he just felt .

Eventually the fur around Husk’s mouth was soaked, his jaw slack. He was good at this, unfairly good, lips and teeth and tongue all as skilled as you’d expect from someone who’d made a living by them. But now Angel Dust was the sole focus of their attention and he was drawn tight as a bow, ready to snap.

“Come for me, baby,” Husk’s rasp was almost animalistic now, “Let me hear you fucking sing.”

Angel Dust was more than happy to give him exactly what he asked for, giving a broken, soaring cry as his orgasm crashed over him, sinking him down into such an overwhelming sensation that he soon lost sight of the surface. Panic threatened but then a voice echoed to him.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes…” his own voice didn’t feel attached to his body so it was free to answer truthfully.

It was those lips that brought him back, a mouth that tasted of salt and opened to warmth, arms coming to circle him and anchor him down. Angel moaned, not able to care that his voice cracked unflatteringly as he did.

“Baby…”

“I got you, Angel, you did good, you tasted fucking incredible…” Husk’s wings settled over them, shielding him from the pink glow of his room.

He didn’t know how to tell him that the praise threatened to break him all over again, so Angel took charge this time, needing all four of his limbs to press the stronger demon into the mattress.

He licked the taste of his own come off Husk’s fangs and drew back just enough to gasp out, “You’re gonna fuck me so hard and so deep that if I go down tomorrow, I’m going down with your spunk inside me.”

“Of course that’s your fucking last wish,” Husk’s laugh was a gorgeous thing, a rough bark that made Angel think of smoky jazz lounges from another time.

He couldn’t help but smile, even if it was mostly bemusement, he wasn’t used to laughing during sex. It did feel pretty fucking good, he had to admit, having a genuine grin on his face as he pulled open Husk’s trousers. Though it quickly fell into awe at what jumped out and damn near smacked him in the teeth.

“Holy fuck!” Angel grinned in delight, one arm having good sense and stretching out to snag the bottle of lube in his bedside table, “Is that an overlord thing? They took the power but they let you keep the massive cock?”

“Shut up,” Husk rolled his eyes, where they snagged on the two hands now soaking their fingers and reaching around to his ass, “Mm…you’re so beautiful, you know that?”

“Heard a couple of people mention it,” Angel grinned down at him, shivering pleasantly as his hands got to work.

Husk’s eyes burned in the dim light, “Yeah. But do you know it?”

Angel Dust faltered, eyelids half closed. Another question whose answer flitted on his tongue but he didn’t want to let it go.

And again, he didn’t have to. Husk pulled him down, bending him near in half to kiss him. Unable to wait a moment more, his slicked hands grasped at Husk’s cock, drawing a hiss out of him that he gratefully swallowed. Angel sighed through the stretch and burn, sitting back and slowly, achingly slowly, every inch of Husk disappeared into him.

Angel was used to pleasures that dissolved quickly on his tongue and in his nose, leaving cold, bitter metal behind. This was something entirely new, something that felt like it was etching itself on every cell in his body, redefining words he thought he’d known inside and out. Pleasure. Sex. Need.

“Husk…” his voice was a tremulous, faint thing, like he was afraid to be heard.

“Oh, I knew you’d be like nothing else, baby…” the other demon groaned, thrusting up into him after a moment to let him settle.

There was no awkward shuffling now, they moved like a dance, like they could hear some music that didn’t exist outside of their bloodstreams. Husk’s hips rolled, Angel arched, two arms thrown up over his head, two others raking down his lover’s chest, leaving deep grooves in his fur. Before, his mouth had been occupied but now Husk sounded like- what else? -a cat in heat, yowling and gasping.

“That’s it, baby, take it, fucking take it, you feel so fucking good, Angel,” he moaned it like a title rather than just a name, like he’d done anything to deserve it.

“Aw fuck…” Angel Dust felt like he was going to shake apart, there wasn’t room inside him for all of this, he didn’t know where to put it all.

But he did know that he was about to come, hard. It was unstoppable, undeniable, and if he was half the pornstar he thought he was, Husk was on his heels. It was in the way his voice had shifted up a few notes, the way his grip on Angel’s hips had grown desperate, the break in the otherwise metronome perfect rhythm of his thrusts.

And that terrified Angel. All the fear he’d expected to find down in the bar, it thickened the air in his lungs like he’d taken an inhale from a real bad batch. Fuck, please, it can’t be over already.

But this was a fall that had to end. Husk’s hips shifted, heating that sweet spot inside him dead on and he was lost, every muscle tensing as he surrendered to his release. It was sweet and the low roar of his own name, the heat flooding so deep inside him he could damn near taste it, that was sweeter. This time when he broke, he willed himself to stay in those depths, stay in pieces, there was nothing for him on the surface.

But there was that voice again.

“Angel…fuck, that was…that was amazing, I…Angel?”

His muscles must have switched off at some point but Husk had caught him, he was sprawled out across the other demon’s chest, their bodies still joined somewhere within the lovely, thrumming haze where the rest of him used to be. But his eyes prickled, heat running down his cheek, dripping onto Husk’s fur where oh fuck no, he’d felt it…

Angel flinched back from the sting of his own tears, bringing an arm up to try and hide, like there was even any point. He rolled off Husk, hunching down as small as he’d go, shoulders trembling.

“It’s nothing, I…” What are you doing, idiot? “...don’t worry about it, it’ll stop…” Dumb fucking slut, you’re ruining it! “...just give me a second to put myself together…” Like you have any right, get a grip “I’m sorry.”

“Angel.”

He listened miserably, waiting for the creak as the bed lifted without his wait, waiting for the sound of soft paws on the floor and the click of the door closing behind him. But it never came.

“Angel, can I touch you? That alright, baby?”

He managed to nod, surprise mostly shocking his muscles into moving. There was a shift, a whisper of silk and then soft fur as strong arms wrapped around his middle, embracing him with a deliberate light touch that would let Angel pull away at any point. Another heartbeat, slowing as the adrenaline ebbed away, drummed against his back like a knock at the door.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Husk murmured against the fur between Angel’s shoulder blades.

“Nah,” Angel croaked, inhaling deeply, finding that warm whiskey smell again and relaxing, “We ain’t got the time.”

“Fair enough,” he accepted it easily, much to Angel’s relief, “Just get some sleep, okay? I’m gonna stay right here.”

He couldn’t help it, however much it made him feel like a child, “Promise?”

“Of course I promise, Angel,” there was an edge of sadness to his voice, more than the usual, not at having to say it again but at the fact that he needed to ask, “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me. However long we got left.”

Angel smiled grimly. The second wasn’t fucking long enough to allow him the first. Just his luck to find exactly what he’d been looking for in the last few hours he had to live.

But he would take what he’d been given. Angel always had.

He turned, burying his face in Husk’s chest, feeling his rough but pleased chuckle, “Best roll of the dice I think I ever made, coming to your door…”

Angel Dust allowed himself a moment to smile at that. To feel wanted. To feel precious. Whatever happened tomorrow, he’d remember this feeling.

Whatever happened tomorrow, he wouldn’t face it alone.

#huskerdust #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #smut #please reblog and comment!#just a little idea of what could have happened before the finale episode

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