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mrsaltieri-real · 1 year ago

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Good Boy, Meeks (Mickey Altieri X Randy Meeks)

Words: 2.8k

Warning/s: language, smut, slight dom/sub dynamic, handjobs, blowjob, teasing, cum eating, cum play, filming/sex tape, hair pulling, Randy’s a nervous wreck, Mickey’s a teasing ass, implied stalking, frenemies to fuck buddies.

A/N: SO this is my first fic that is two canon characters. No reader insert, no OC. Just Mickey and Randy. The Film Bro’s™️. This was ridiculously fun to write, I’m definitely going to do stuff like this more often. I love them so much. Thank you @bisexual-horror-fan for beta reading and editing! You’re such a massive help dude!

I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Mickey had always found Randy sweet.

In a lot of ways, they were the same. Film geeks with an unfiltered passion for cinema and the art surrounding it, constantly looking for a deeper meaning, both there and in real life. Then again, they were more different than similar.

Randy was a small town boy still reeling from the series of murders that rocked him a year back. He never showed it, but he lived in a constant state of unease, glancing over his shoulder and never letting anybody but Sidney in. Even then, he couldn’t talk to her about this stuff. She was healing, getting better. He was happy for her, but when she began dating Derek, he realized that he truly was all alone.

Mickey, on the other hand, was from the city. Eager, outgoing, confident. He wasn’t scared about people finding him arrogant or full of himself, he lived his life with no regrets. He was being bankrolled through college by Billy Loomis’ mother to help her finish the job he and Stu Macher couldn’t. Mickey was violent, in more ways than the obvious. His ambition made him all the more magnetic, especially to Randy.

They had a fun frenemy vibe going for a while, though they both knew it was more affectionate than anything. Mickey liked Randy, he thought he was simply adorable. Randy liked Mickey, he enjoyed arguing with him even though most of the time he knew he was just saying opposing views on cinema to get a rise out of him, like when he’d sat in front of him and blatantly said that Superman 2 was better than Superman 1. Randy could see the amusement in his eyes as he argued back, but decided to roll with it.

Anything to stretch out the conversation.

Randy wasn’t gay. He knew he wasn’t gay, he’d been in love with Sidney since before he even knew what love was. But sometimes, just sometimes, he’d glance over at Mickey in class or in the cafeteria, watch his head tip back as he laughed, the dimples in his cheeks. His eyes would drift to his strong, muscular arms, watch his huge hands run through his hair or drum against his thigh, and it was almost impossible to look away.

But no, he wasn’t gay, he wasn’t bi, he was straight. Right?

“Randy!” Fingers snapped in front of Randy’s face, and he blinked, shaking his head before his blue eyes tentatively met light brown. “You okay, man?”

“Fine, why?” Randy cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his seat and looking down at his paper. He and Mickey had been paired for a project on cinematography in horror, and it bugged Randy that the moment their names were spoken out one after the other by their professor, he’d felt his heart flutter a little.

“Well, I was talking to you and you were just… Staring at me.” Mickey’s tone was light, almost playful. He didn’t look away from Randy, his grin spreading wider as he saw the rush of colour flood to the boy's cheeks. How cute is that?

“Fuck off, Mickey, no I wasn’t.” Randy scoffed, shaking his head. “Stop fucking around, what were you saying?”

“C’mon, Meeks! Tell me what you were thinking about.” Mickey leaned forward in his own seat, his hand reaching out and playfully pushing Randy’s shoulder. Randy swatted at his hand, only making Mickey chuckle and hold his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay!” He shook his head, still smiling as he grabbed his camera from his desk, flipping the small flap open and holding it up. “Don’t wanna tell me? Tell the camera.”

“Mickey, I swear to God, fuck off.” Randy held up his hand, turning his head to the side and burying his face into his shoulder. “You’re such an ass, dude.”

“Aw, I know.” Mickey didn’t drop the camera. His eyes were fixed on Randy through the tiny screen, his head tilting just slightly to the side. His smile had changed into a somewhat affectionate half smile, watching as Randy peeked up at him. “What?”

“You like me, don’t you?”

The question took him by such surprise, Randy let out a laugh that was a little too loud, a roll of his eyes that was a little too dramatic and stood to his feet, pushing the chair back a little too hard. Mickey watched the ordeal with an amused expression and a cocked brow, the camera still focused on Randy, “I think you’re a dick.”

“And I think that you think I’m blind and stupid.” Mickey retorted, finally looking up from the small screen, his eyes settling and Randy’s awkward stance. “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t do that.”

Randy looked away, as he says, “I don’t like you. Not like that.”

Mickey presses, “Like what?”

“Like- Oh, shut up.” Randy muttered, beginning to walk toward Mickey’s bathroom.

Before he could get past him, Mickey’s large hand that Randy had so often admired shot out, wrapping around his forearm easily and holding him next to him.

“Don’t make it weird, Meeks. We can fuck if that’s what you want.”

Mickey said it so matter-of-factly it took Randy a little by surprise, his eyes shooting to Mickey, who still gripped the camera in his other hand, the band around his wrist and his arm resting beside him.

“But you’re not…” Randy’s voice trailed off and Mickey let out another laugh.

There is that infuriatingly dazzling smile as he asked, “I’m not what? Gay?”

Randy stumbles over his words as he responds, “I mean… Yeah. I’ve seen you with girls and stuff.”

“Yeah, so? What, you're a film major and think people can’t branch out a little?”

Randy frowned, this isn’t as simple as making a movie in a different genre, at least not to Randy. His eyes darting from Mickey’s hand wrapped around his arm and to his face. He couldn’t deny, when Mickey touched him, he felt an uncomfortably strong wave of arousal flow through his body and stab him straight in the stomach.

Fuck, he hated that Mickey made him feel this way. Fucking Mickey Altieri of all people. It was no surprise really, though. Randy had seen first hand, he could pretty much fuck anybody he wanted. He was outrageously attractive, magnetic and just downright charming. He couldn’t deny he was attracted to him, and had been for a pathetic amount of time. And now, here he was, telling him he wanted him.

Randy didn’t move, caught in a hesitating limbo, so Mickey helped him, tugging on his arm and pulling him in front of him.

He had no idea what he was doing. He’d thought about this, this moment more times than he cared to admit whilst he was fisting his cock in the shower, thinking of Mickey. His hands, his arms, his smile, his cock, and more often than not, his lips. He was always filled with guilt after, wondering how Mickey would feel if he knew that Randy touched himself to thoughts of him on his knees with Mickey in his mouth.

This was fucking unbearable.

Mickey’s brown eyes were fixed on Randy’s torn expression, watching the vast array of emotions pass over his face. Suddenly, it wasn’t so amusing.

“Nod if you want me.” Mickey said, his voice unnaturally soft and tender.

Randy’s final thought was simple.

Fuck it.

He nodded his head, eyes, watching as Mickey released his arm and gently palmed over himself. Randy hadn’t noticed before that he was already half hard. Did he know? This entire time that Randy wanted him this much? Did he want it as long as he did, too?

Mickey didn’t speak, but he stood to his feet, placing the still rolling camera down on his desk, the lenses facing them, a light smile on his lips as he leaned forward, his hand moving from his own aching bulge in favour of Randy’s. The two of them were wearing sweatpants, and Mickey smiled in satisfaction at how fucking hard Randy was for him. He could feel his heat, feel the throbbing before he even made contact.

Mickey’s other hand cradled Randy’s flushed cheek, finding it sweet how panicked Randy looked, as if he was afraid this was all some big joke to his expense. But this wasn’t, Mickey wanted Randy, had done since the first day the little geek challenged him in film class.

Randy found that focusing on the beauty spot just beside Mickey’s eyes calmed him down slightly, humanizing the other boy a little more.

Mickey wasn’t going to kiss Randy first, however. He felt like that was something Randy had to do, and it didn’t take him anywhere near as long as he expected.

The minute Mickey’s head ghosted over him, Randy bit the bullet, closing the space and pressing his lips against Mickey’s with a passion that took Mickey by surprise. Randy let out a shaking moan into his mouth, pushing himself greedily against Mickey’s hand in desperate need for friction, to which the other boy eagerly obliged, his hand moving to frail his fingers down Randy’s happy trail and slipping smoothly into Randy’s sweats and boxers, eagerly kissing him back as he did. Mickey tasted like mint, his lips were unbearably soft and something about them seemed like home, the rough feeling of Mickey’s stubble scratched against Randy’s face, so satisfying and just how he dreamed it would.

The moment Randy felt Mickey’s well worked hand wrap around his cock, he was worried he was going to cum then and there. His hips thrust a little as he gasped into Mickey’s mouth, feeling him smile against him as he did. Randy’s hands were fast and eager, but he was stopped sharply by Mickey, who pulled back, shaking his head.

“Oh, God I- I’m sorry, fuck, I-“

Randy began rambling, his face flushing a deep red. Mickey simply rolled his eyes, bending down to pull Randy’s sweats and boxers down before pulling his own shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. “Shut up, I thought it would be easier this way, no?”

This was the first time Randy had seen Mickey shirtless. He momentarily marvelled at the hairs on his chest, his toned stomach, and swallowed thickly.

Before Randy could reply, Mickey kissed him, deeper and with more vigour than last time. Randy’s leaking cock pressed between both of their stomachs. Mickey’s hands gripped Randy’s hips, pulling him even closer to him and forcing him to grind against him before he pressed him firmly up against the wall, his lips beginning to drift from Randy’s lips, to his jaw, to his throat.

“F-fuck.” Randy’s moan was unsteady, his hands unconsciously moving to knot in his thick dark hair, his hips beginning to grind against him by themselves. The friction felt incredible, but what felt even better was Mickey’s hand beginning to slowly pump Randy’s cock as he kissed his neck, the sensation making goosebumps rise on his skin.

Mickey used Randy’s pre-cum as lube as he allowed the boy to messily thrust against his hand, his simpering whimpers and moans fucking music to his ears.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of you like this, Meeks.” Mickey breathed into Randy’s ear, twisting his hand expertly and relishing in the gentle whines flooding out from Randy’s lips. “A leaking fucking mess just for me.”

“Just for you.” Randy echoed Mickey’s words, his hands gripping his hair even tighter as his pace began to steadily increase.

The feeling of his rough hand gliding up and down his shaft, his messy cock aching and throbbing, it was nothing like he’d had before. His first and only time with Karen Kolcheck back in Woodsboro seemed pretty much laughable compared to how Mickey was making him feel right now with just his hand. Randy knew he was close, his balls were aching, and he could feel himself ready to unload all over Mickey’s stomach, but he didn’t want to. He knew that once he did, it would be over.

Fuck, he didn’t want this to be over.

“You gonna cum for me, Randy?” Mickey asked. Randy let out a soft whine, flinching in effort to avoid doing just that.

“N-no.” He groaned out, the grip on Mickey’s hair tightening.

Mickey let out a breathy laugh, his hand slowing to a gentle pump. “Why not?” He asked.

Randy didn’t answer, his head falling forward, so his forehead pressed against Mickey’s shoulder.

Mickey wasn’t having that. He pulled his hand away from Randy’s sloppy cock, knocking his arms out of the way so he could pull Randy’s head back before gripping his chin between his long fingers.

“Why not?” He asked again, his tone a little harder.

“Because I don’t want it to be done.” Randy blurted out. He felt Mickey cock twitch against his from the confines of his sweats and briefs and felt an overwhelming desire to touch him too. Mickey looked at the hungry expression on Randy’s face and smiled affectionately, releasing Randy’s jaw and sliding his hand into his hair.

“Okay, on your knees then.”

Before the words were completely out of Mickey’s mouth, Randy was on his knees, pulling down Mickey’s remaining clothes.

Randy had only seen his own dick and dicks in porn. No pornstar cock would ever compare to Mickey’s. The only word that came to mind was mouthwatering.

After Mickey spent a little time talking Randy through it, Randy took him greedily into his mouth, moaning at how delicious he tasted, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Fuckkkkk.” Mickey groaned, his head tipping back and one hand still resting on the top of his head. He glanced at the camera, picking it up and focusing it down on the adorable sight before him; Randy greedily sucking his cock as if his life fucking depended on it. Randy made a sound of disapproval at the sight of the camera, but Mickey shook his head. “Thought you might want to watch this back when you fuck yourself thinking about me.”

A brief thought of how the fuck does he know I do that? Crossed his mind for the briefest of moments before he forgot all about it, focusing on the feeling of Mickey’s thick, heavy cock in his mouth. He bobbed his head obediently, feeling Mickey begin to thrust harder, pushing his way down Randy’s throat.

“Yeah, good boy. Look up into the camera with my cock in your mouth, Meeks.” Mickey instructed, voice heavy and dripping with arousal. Randy did just that, feeling Mickey begin to twitch in his mouth as soon as he did. “Mm. You wanna get off?” He asked, smiling at Randy’s muffled yes. “Go on.”

Randy quickly took his own sensitive cock into his hand, realizing quickly his pre-cum had dropped onto Mickey’s hardwood floor. Mickey angled the camera, zooming in on the sight and watching it intently, his hips snapping against Randy’s face urgently.

“Fuck, I’m close.” Mickey grunted, halting his movement. Randy’s nose pressed against Mickey’s skin for a moment, beginning to splutter slightly as Mickey began to release hot ribbons of white down his throat, before pulling back to fill up Randy’s mouth.

The delicious taste, along with Mickey’s gorgeous expression, his head back and his chest heaving as he came, sent Randy into a convulsing mess, cumming all over his own hand, stomach and the ground beneath him. Mickey pulled out of his mouth quickly, relishing in the sound of Randy’s gasping moans as he finished.

It was silent between them for a moment, Randy trembling on his knees, not looking Mickey in the eyes. Mickey still had the camera rolling, looking fondly into the small window of it, before he glanced down at Randy pointedly.

“You made a mess, Meeks.”

Randy let out a sigh, relieved at the broken silence, before he asked, “What?”

Mickey nodded down beneath him at the cum staining the floor. Randy blushed, moving to shakily to stand up, only to be stopped by Mickey’s large, grounding hand.

“Clean it up.”

“I- I was going to. Was gonna get some paper towels and-“

“No, Randy.” Mickey cut him off, the cheeky smile back on his face as he knelt down in front of him. Mickey’s finger dipped into the impressive pool of white, before he raised it to his own mouth and licked it. Randy watched intently, his once softened cock twitching at the sight. Fuck.

“On your hands and knees-“ Mickey stopped, moving the camera and angling it down at the mess. “And clean. It. Up.”

Randy stared at Mickey for a moment, before nodding his head, and doing exactly what he was told.

He got on his hands and knees, dipping his head down, and began to lap up his own cum from the hardwood floor. Mickey watched through the camera, teeth sinking into his bottom lip at the sight.

“Good boy, Meeks.”

#mickey and randy my darlings #no one can tell me they didn’t canonically fuck at least once #I love them #this was ridiculously fun #hope you all enjoy!#scream #mickey altieri #randy meeks #mickey altieri and randy meeks #m x m #mickey altieri smut #randy meeks smut #mickey and randy smut #scream smut

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kit-williams · 10 months ago

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Weight of the Worlds

Thank you for @sleepyfan-blog for letting me use Cedric and @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for letting me use Ramiel; Roland, Arnault, and Angela are my own ocs;

Husbandry Tag list:

@egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts

@ms--lobotomy @nekotaetae

Summary: Cedric and Ramiel meet Angela (Quilterin) and Backerin

Cedric was bouncing slightly as Arnault and Roland had told him that they were going to meet. Ramiel sighed just looking at his fellow Primaris. "It's nothing to be anxious about."

"I'm not anxious I'm excited! I mean getting time to spend with a future Emperor's Champion and Brother Roland always makes me excited." Cedric says as since meeting the pair he's come out of his shell a bit more.

"Careful to not gloat too much about Arnault's achievements." Ramiel had gotten the distinctive feeling the Arnault does not know his eventual fate.

"Oh there you are." A woman's voice chimes in as they turn to look down at the human female just grinning up at them. "Roland was right you boys are sure big." The woman smelt like bread... she smelt like warmth... she smelt like what Roland kept describing. "I would have brought more bread." She looks up at Ramiel, "But I was told that we'd only be meeting one of you today."

Ramiel felt the heat go to his ears, "I see then I'll excuse-"

"Too late!" She declared grinning up at him as she passes him some bread. "Anyway Cedric I brought some more breads to try with some jams and some other things... if Roland isn't eating most of it... ROLAND!" She barks seeing the older Black Templar with some bread sticking out of his mouth. The Primaris marines were surprised at how sheepish he looked. "Bread Addict!" She said exasperated.

Roland walked over holding a large, now opened, container of treats from her shop, "Hallo Ramiel! I thought you were busy today?" Roland says trying to remember the younger Primaris' schedule.

"That was earlier in the day."

"Ah es tut mir leid then we were going to introduce you to our bonded another day but I suppose it can't be helped."

"Arnault I can carry it." A soft voice says.

"Nein." The distinct voice of Arnault says in a tone much softer than Cedric or Ramiel has heard.

"Why not?"

"Because it is too heavy for you."

"Arnault... you're too heavy for me."

Arnault's chuckle reaches the three causing Roland to roll his eyes as the innuendo is lost upon the younger two marines.

They finally see Arnault's bonded carrying a heavy bag. She had downturned eyes giving her a look that she was tired or perhaps docile and meek would be better descriptions. Her blonde hair was in half curls down to her shoulders as she came up to the middle of Arnault's stomach. Her brown eyes looked at Ramiel with surprise as she looks up at Arnault before he takes the bag and the two finally approach.

"This one is Cedric and this one is Ramiel." Arnault points to each marine.

"Hello." She says softly before pushing the bag Arnault is holding to Cedric. She turns to Ramiel, "I'll get started on yours right away then."

"On what?" Ramiel says while Arnault gets Cedric to open up his gift.

Her gaze turns away from him to Cedric as he looks at the quilted blanket. A large black cross in the center of the off white, patterned, background. "It's weighted. First time doing a weighted quilt but... I think I did a good job." She says smiling at Cedric's owlish look. She looks up at Arnault as he leans over as she whispers something to him.

Roland elbows Cedric, "You going to say something?"

Cedric's ears are red as he realized he was lost in looking it over, "Oh thank you! I'll use it tonight!"

Angela smiles at Cedric before Roland chimes in, "You go put your new blanket in your room and we'll get the food set up for you to try. Ramiel you're free to stay."

"And once meine engel has finished your quilt we will have another day like this for you." Arnault says.

"I look forward to it." Ramiel says with a soft smile.

#oc: Arnault #oc: Roland #oc: Cedric #oc: Ramiel #Bakerin #angela #black templars #space marine husbandry sentience #warhammer 40k #my part in this epic saga #intense bonds

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marivoid · 11 months ago

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"So this is the clocktower?" Martyn tipped his head back to see the colossal building. To see such architecture not in complete ruin was... Interesting, to say the least. Martyn also didn't see many buildings made of shiny, unoxidized copper and pristine gold. But it is the Crashlands.

His head turned to Brian. "Think you can fly as high as that building? Or would your wings give out?"

An unamused caw and a quick ruffle of metal feathers.

"So no?"

A much louder caw.

"I'm teasing, I'm teasing!" Martyn threw his hand up despite his laughter. Even if it didn't do much to stop Brian's brigade of pecks. "I'll stop, I'll stop! You're a very talented crow- HEY- THAT'S MY EAR-"

Martyn got so distracted with the crow that he didn't notice the doors opening. Or the people walking out of the building. Straight towards him. In fact, Martyn didn't realize until two different hands rested on his shoulder and pushed him inside.

"Gents- Gents, hey!" Martyn didn't get a response. "Me and my little crow buddy here were just bickering! Nothing to g-get too worked over about! Heh... Heh..."

Nothing would make them budge. Instead Martyn was shoved towards an actual functioning elevator. An elevator that had electricity! Martyn managed to take a spare glance around the building's lobby and was stunned. This much electricity on this scale... What in the world were these people using as its fuel source?

Unfortunately, Martyn didn't get a chance to ask. Not while he and Brian were shoved straight into the elevator and practically boxed in on both sides.

"Jeez, you would think I killed somebody!" His voice was a lot quieter than he meant it to be. But the meek caw he got from Brian confirmed the mutual feeling. Martyn's eyes locked on the small screen above the door.

"So... Gents!" Martyn attempted again. "Tell me! What's a fella like me doing in a place like this? I've never been to this part of the Crashlands-" He knew he was sounding panicked now with how fast he was speaking, "-but me and Brian here mean no harm! Just admiring the building!"

"Quiet, Craft. No more nonsense from you." One of the guards replied.

"Craft? Wait, wait my name isn't-" A ding cut Martyn off.

40.

They were on the top floor. Not a good thing in a situation like this.

Martyn's body was nearly tossed from the elevator with how hard he was pushed. He thankfully caught himself with his hands. "Fellas- You got the wrong guy! I'm being accused!" Martyn brushed his hands against his knees as he attempted to stand up. But his legs were frozen in place. "Oh come on!"

"CRAFT! I TOLD YOU TO NEVER STEP FOOT HERE AGAIN!" A loud, demanding voice chipped from behind him. "AND YET HERE YOU ARE, GETTING NEAR MY TERRITORY!"

Martyn looked over his shoulder to see... One very short, angry man. Sure he was put together! Martyn hadn't ever seen anyone walk around with a moss overcoat with blossoming azaleas and somehow pull it off- but it was pretty hard to take the man seriously when his face was a bright red and his hands were flailing around like mad.

Martyn couldn't help himself. He laughed. A dry, raspy, feeble attempt to get rid of the nervousness bubbling up in his chest. Only then did his legs choose to work as Martyn rose to the ground. "J-Just a second- Goodness!" He slammed a fist against his chest. "I think you may have the wrong person! My name isn't Craft!"

Martyn noted just how quiet Brian got. Normally the crow would be throwing his head back in a series of loud caws. But he was silent. And was he... Shaking?

"You? Not Craft?" The man got painfully close to Martyn. Big brown eyes bored straight into his soul. "Then why the hell do you have that THIEF of a bird with you, huh?! Craft had that same bird!"

And there it was. "Brian?? You're upset about Brian??" Martyn barely missed the shy coo that left his crow. "Ohh Brian. What did you steal?" Martyn turned to face the crow. Brian looked away with an ashamed noise.

"I'll tell you what he stole! That bird right there tried to make off with my clock!" The angry man jabbed a finger at Brian. "Nearly got away too! You better be glad E found you, not me! Ohh I woulda-"

"Enough!" Martyn pushed the other back. "Whatever Brian tried to take, he failed at it alright? You kept your clock and this "Craft" person clearly is not here to take it from you!"

The man stared between himself and Brian, not seeming to know who to be angry at. Then the man shut his eyes, let out a deep sigh, and clenched his fists.

"You're right! You're right. I apologize." He extended his hand to Martyn. "Let's... Let's try this again. Hi, I'm Bdubs. Operator of the Clocktower and mayor of Dia Bombia." A genuine smile crossed Bdubs' face. "And you are?"

Martyn promptly ignored his hand. "Martyn. Now, can you explain to me what logic ran through your head to have your little buddies over there grab me?" He still didn't like how he was treated. "If you're going to toss me around like I'm some dummy, I'd at least appreciate dinner first! Yeesh!"

A nervous laugh. "Well, I thought you were Craft. Philza Craft. He and I are... How does one say... Not the best of terms. He had his little thief-"

"His name is Brian."

".. Had little Brian attempt to steal my clock. Going on about being a King or something?" Bdubs shook his head. "Doesn't matter. All that matters is, I really don't like your little Brian buddy."

Philza Craft. A new name to remember. Martyn patted the top of Brian's head with his mechanical arm. "Well. I... Don't exactly see Brian stealing something like that. I mean... He's a crow. Clocks may be shiny but they're far too bulky." He then stared at the three clocks dangling from Bdubs' neck. "... Are you a collector or?"

"Me? A collector?" Bdubs shook his head. "No, no, E would kill me! Too much junk already taking up the floor. These are just gifts. Always gotta keep things close in this world!"

A nervous caw drew his attention from the blabbering man. Brian seemed much more nervous around here. Wings were fidgeting, hoping around on his shoulder more, cawing less than normal. Something about Bdubs was making his crow upset. And something made Martyn believe it wasn't guilt.

"Anywhooo-" Two hands clamped onto his prosthetic. "This right here doesn't look all that good! I got a guy here who can help you get a fancy one!" Martyn was half tempted to sock the guy right in the face for insulting the rather new arm. But... The new guy could also be The Doctor. That meant he was one step away from going back home.

"Are you doing this out of guilt?" Martyn watched the man's body go tense. Poor guy sucked at holding a poker face.

"Do not question my generosity! It's rather rude, wouldn't you agree? Anyways, as I was trying to say. I have a guy here who can fix up your arm, good as new! Make it run off of the very carbon in the air, that's how smart he is!"

"Carbon, ey?" Martyn clenched his prosthetic's fist. That would be a pretty decent upgrade. He hadn't had luck in finding that Parrot Flight Master, so anything carbon based would help out severely.

"Exactly! And while I'm at it, I'll add in a personal explanation to Dia Bombia! And about MCC, whatever you wish! Hell, I could ask Scott himself to give you a great explanation of how that worked. He's a genius, I tell you!"

"SCOTT?!"

( @hermitadaymay )

#hermitblr #hermitcraft #the crash #hermitaday #the void speaks #martyn inthelittlewood #martyn itlw #bdubs #bdoubleo100 #hermitcraft bdubs #brian the crow

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skullsnbruises · 2 years ago

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I’m so happy to finish this ugh, I think this is the best vore descriptions I’ve written so far? Let me know how y’all liked it :)

If I made any mistakes no I didn’t, we wrote this partially at midnight and then the next morning on very little sleep. Lol. (Also. One day I’ll finish my requests, HAHAH, don’t worry I haven’t forgotten them)

[Ao3 Link]

Taglist: @poprockpanda @brick-a-doodle-do @local-squishmallow @dingbatnix @da3dm

As the Sun Sets

(2722 words) [fearplay, miscommunication, violence]

Walking along the wall was Philza and his two adopted dragon children. The skull masked one, Chayanne, was leading the group, proud dark purple scales on display as his tail whipped from side to side, a much smaller Tallulah gripping onto it lightly with her teeth. She was speckled with brown and blue, and her features were quite reminiscent of being aquatic, while Chayanne’s features were sharp and like knives, and was more striking of a scorpion, if anything. His body was his armor, tough skin built for anything, while Tallulah was meek, her petite body built for beauty instead.

Philza walked behind them, keeping an eye on his oversized children as they attempted to slow to his pace. He felt a spark of pride flicker inside his chest, watching how Chayanne was so careful with Tallulah, making sure to defend her at any cost. He’d tear obstructions out of their way with his claws, and nudge a path out for her, as she’d shyly pass through.

Phil loved his children a lot. He’d do anything to protect them, just like how he knew Chayanne would do anything to protect Tallulah.

Chayanne always striked Phil as reminiscent of Technoblade. They were both deeply caring, and highly protective, going to great lengths to defend their loved ones, no matter the cost. It was a charming quality, but Phil always had a fear in the back of his mind that it could be Chayanne’s downfall. He always prioritized others above himself, and that was worrisome.

Philza looked up into the sky, and estimated the time, “Hey, mates, it’s gonna get dark soon, let’s head back okay?”

The dragons turned around, and Tallulah let go of Chayanne’s tail for a moment, brushing herself against him instead. Chayanne made a chirp of acknowledgement and Tallulah dipped her head.

The dad waved his hand in motion for them to follow along, “Alright, come on you two.”

The sun was setting, and admittedly, Philza should’ve realized earlier. If only he hadn’t been so caught up in his own thoughts. Neither dragons could fly yet, their wings weren’t ready for that type of work, so they’d have to make the trek back on foot. It’s not like they couldn’t handle mobs, it would just be annoying to deal with. Chayanne might get caught up in the fight, too.

At least they had the beautiful scenic view of the sun dipping behind the land in the distance, meeting the ocean around the island. No matter how many centuries Philza lived through, the sunset took his breath away everytime.

Tallulah met beside Phil, and she nudged at his shoulder. She was very small compared to Chayanne, but still at least two feet taller than her dad, when she was on all fours.

They traveled back along against the wall, occasionally peering out at the forest, the trees obstructing their vision of any threats that might be posed in the distance.

They would be safe, Philza assured himself. He wasn’t exactly anxious, but he wanted to be cautious anyway. No need to have any unnecessary injuries.

Everything was going okay so far. Philza was chatting with the two dragons, and they’d chirp back, but occasionally pause to write a response on a sigh instead. Their handwritings were scratchy, words written with claws, but legible. They were mostly making small talk, nothing too important. Phil had commented on how much he loved the sunset, to the agreement of his kids.

It was turning out to be a pleasant walk back. Phil might’ve realized his guard had slipped in any other scenario, but he couldn’t now, simply enjoying his time with Chayanne and Tallulah, walking between the two dragons who were his family and love.

The sudden flash of a neon green light shot out, and Phil was blinded by the sudden brightness against the now-approaching night sky. He shielded his vision, eyes adjusting to the light in front of him, and with horror, he realized the creature in the air before them was the binary entity. Phil’s heart sank and his body tensed up, arm reaching instantly towards his sword, drawing it with a vengeful glint in his eye. He watched as Chayanne stepped in front of him and let out an enraged roar. His spiked tail whipped warningly, and Tallulah cowered behind Phil, body shrinking like she was his shadow.

The formless figure shaped its code around to resemble arms outstretched from its main body, and it zipped through the sky like lightning. It was suddenly overwhelming Phil, darting past his body, leaving sharp cuts along him as it whipped around him. He could hear Tallulah squeak in fear, and Chayanne let out a booming shriek, swinging his tail around to smack the entity like a flyswatter to a pesky bug.

The code monster was thwacked out of the air and collided hard against the ground, kicking up clumps of dirt. It was a brief moment of getting reorganized. Phil turned quickly towards his children, as Chayanne approached Tallulah with a pinched up terrified expression. She bowed her head at him, and he widened his mouth. Philza felt his heartbeat throbbing in his ears, breath heavy, as he watched in terror; Chayanne’s maw stretched open and scooped Tallulah up in one fell swoop. She disappeared behind a click of Chayanne’s teeth, and a large bump followed down the dragon's throat.

He wasn't allowed to question it any longer, as the code monster had recovered and was flying through the air again. Philza braced for the impact of its knife-like cuts, but his world was suddenly til shifted as his body was thrown up into the air. Philza’s breath was knocked out of his chest, staring downward was an open maw. His son’s open maw.

Everything seemed to slow, as his immortal life flashed behind his eyes. Chayanne has just swallowed Tallulah whole, and he was the next victim. He hadn’t any time to mourn his daughter, nor himself, as time returned to normal and gravity plummeted the man straight into the open mouth.

Teeth were sharp all around him, and he clung onto Chayanne’s tongue like a lifeline. The squishy appendage rolled around, and the pointed tongue curled in on itself, trying to push Phil back to his throat.

The man was filled with anxiety, kicking and flailing desperate, like his brain was powered only by instinct to survive. The uvula dangled, curling up and contorting as the mouth he was trapped inside shifted about. The tongue nudged and prodded at Philza, but he refused to go down easy. Something was seriously wrong with Chayanne right now, and Phil needed to make it out alive to find out what. Maybe there was a chance to save Tallulah too, before it was too late.

Philza reached and tried to climb, but was only slipping and losing his grip under the squishy tongue, salvia being Phil’s worst enemy. He used his nails, trying to pry himself up.

Chayanne’s body dramatically shook, and it felt as if he had been knocked over. Phil’s spot was taken from him, and he fell a significant amount. Chayanne’s constant movement was making it impossible, and then the worst thing Philza could’ve hoped would never happen happened.

He felt as Chayanne’s head lifted upward, leaving Philza grasping to hold onto the dragon's uvula. His son swallowed hard, tongue pushing up against the already soaked man, and uvula shifting around so Phil was kicking. His sandal slipped off and felt into the abyss of Chayanne’s esophagus. Phil had tried so hard to hold it until now, but a sudden grief ridden sob took over his body, and it was his downfall. As his body shook, his grip was lost, and he found himself trapped between squishy walls within the blink of an eye.

The walls of the throat squished Philza, his body folding along the wetness. His struggles were pointless, and nothing was good enough to grab, so the hard swallows that followed were more than enough to drag Phil deeper into his doom. The man let himself cry. For himself. For Tallulah. For Chayanne.

Within short lived moments, Phil wasn’t being squeezed anymore, and he slipped into a pool of some kind. As his mind raced, he realized this was the stomach. Dark, drenched, and dangerous. His eyes squinted, needy for a source of light to judge how fast he was going to die, and if escape might still be possible. The darkness was hard, but a few seconds gave him just enough that Phil could make out outlines.

In front of him was Tallulah. His beautiful daughter. She was small, she had shifted into her humanoid form again. Philza sludged wobbly through the pool. His hands came around her body, and he hugged her.

She let out small chirps, aroused from the touch. Her pretty brown eyes blinked open and she looked up to meet eyes with her dad. His heart panged, so grateful that she was still alive.

The dragon was thrust around again, sloshing the wetness up and splashing against the stomach walls. Tallulah tightened her claws into Philza’s shirt, steadying against his weight. They silently decided sitting was less dangerous, and Phil sat Tallulah onto his lap, brushing fingers through her soaking curled hair.

“Oh my gods, Tallulah,” he swore he’d never cried so much, “I was so worried.”

She tilted her head and a small noise sounded from her chest. Her sweater paws wrapped around him in a warm embrace.

“I’ll find us a way out,” Phil bit his lip, the words feeling rotten on his tongue. It felt like a lie, and he wouldn’t promise a thing to her now. As much as he wanted to stay positive, things were looking hopeless.

Philza glanced around, the walls were a deepend purple hue, squiggly and textured. The faint shine reflected on them, showing off the small hints of blue and green. Everything felt small inside the stomach, the space was little, and the stomach contracted around them ever so often, a claustrophobic dread washing over him with every slosh of acid.

Chayanne’s body was no longer being flailed and thrown around, Phil realized. The only movement was a steady rhythmic pattern; walking, if he had to guess.

“I think things have calmed down, Tallulah,” Phil gulped, “Maybe Chayanne will realize now and let us out.”

His daughter made that same tiny movement. Confused body language.

“What is it?” He glanced down at her frown. He squinted, making out her limited sign language skills.

“S-a-f-e. No Tallulah, this isn’t safe right now, I’m gonna make us safe though, if it’s the last thing I do-,” he was cut off by her nudging him.

“S-a-f-e, yes Tallulah, I understood. I’m saying that-“ She crossed her arms and pointed at the spot they were sitting, then around in a circular motion towards the stomach walls. She repeated the word, emphasizing each letter in her hands.

The man was confused, and a little concerned, “Are you saying we’re safe right now,” a nod, “we aren’t, Tallulah. I’m going to-“

Their bodies were shifted around once more, tossed around inside the organ. The walls squeezed in on them again, making ‘gllk’ and sloppy sounds as the walls seemed to throb like a heart. Suddenly, Philza, with a death grip on Tallulah , was being pushed back up the esophagus. The man was overtaken by dizziness as light once again flooded his senses, and a hard thud knocked against his back. His hands still carried Tallulah’s meek weight, and his disoriented state kept him laying on the ground.

Several deep breaths later, senses coming back into fruition, Philza was ready to properly open his eyes and see what the hell was going on.

He was immediately met with Chayanne’s snout, exhales breathing over his body. He jolted up, backing up slightly. Chayanne and Tallulah were staring at him so calmly, like nothing deeply traumatic had just happened.

The deep purple dragon slowly shifted back, scales morphing into skin, entire figure shrinking, tail and horns sliding into a proportionate size to his child body. He tilted his head at his dad.

Breathless, the man tried to stand, “W-what the fuck?!”

The boy pulled out a yellow sign, placing it on the ground. He crouched the carve in his sentence. When finished, he scooted to the side, sitting with the duck floaty around his body comfortably.

“I’m confused dad, what’s wrong?” Phil read, “MATE. You just ate me and your sister! How is that not obviously the problem?!”

Chayanne shrunk into himself, tail curling around his legs. He looked ashamed now.

Tallulah took her turn to write, a purple sign displayed for Philza.

Again, he read it aloud, “This is a dragon thing.” He made a noise of disbelief, “You’re just able to swallow each other alive, no problem?!”

A casual nod from both children.

“How haven’t I known this sooner?! Would’ve saved a lot of panic!” His stern tone came to a halt, staring at the sad expressions of the siblings, “Okay. I’m sorry for how I reacted. You two need to let me know about things this important though, okay? Your dad needs to know if he’s going to get swallowed alive next time.”

Then the situation hit him, “Oh shit, is everyone okay?”

Chayanne had a few cuts. Nothing serious, upon inspection. Tallulah was unscathed. Phil had some nasty slices along his face, but it would be fine with some painkillers and days to heal.

Inside Chayanne’s room, Philza bandaged the boy up, as Tallulah bounced happily on the bed. Phil was knelt down, sticking another bandage over Chayanne’s arm. The blood was dried, so he’d wiped the dark remnants away with a damp cloth. The boy was peering down, and even through the mask, Phil could sense the sadness within him.

He hummed, “What’s up?” He patted Chayanne’s chest, finishing up the bandages and medicine. The boy sighed, taking his place beside his sister on the bed. He leaned against her, and Tallulah wrapped his arm around his waist.

Chayanne’s lower lip quivered, taking out a sign and slowly started writing on it. Phil waited patiently, putting the medical supplies away. He occasionally glanced over to his son, frowning at Chayanne’s sad expression. Tallulah watching over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowing as she watched his sentence form.

Chayanne turned the finished sign around, dipping his head and avoiding all eye contact.

Philza read it out. “Did I fail?” His breath slowed and instantly rushed over to wrap Chayanne into his arms, squeezing him tightly, “Of course not, you saved us. You protected us, Chayanne.” His heart twisted and he held him closer. Phil shifted, bringing Chayanne into his lap as he sat up on the bed, leaning against the wall with his son resting now on his chest, “Listen, mate, you did amazing. I’m sorry how I acted, I didn’t know what was up. But you got me and your sister out of there. I’m just so fucking sorry you had to fight alone.”

The little dragon whimpered, and Tallulah scooted over to join the hug. She held up a sign for him, reading, ‘We love you!’

He whimpered in response, biting his tongue to hold back the tears.

“It’s okay. You can cry. You’re allowed,” Philza whispered out. His son needed the confirmation now more than anything. His son’s hold tightened, and a bundle of tears and twitches broke through him. Tallulah and Phil kept him close, comforting him through his sobs. They rubbed circles into his clothes.

After a few minutes, his cries died out, and they were left holding one another. Philza wordlessly stood from the bed, and tucked the two under the blankets, fluffing their pillows and bending down to press kisses against either of their foreheads.

“You both were perfect today,” he spoke softly, “Get some sleep. I love you both so much.”

Tallulah held up a hand, sleepily showing the sign for ‘I love you.’ Chayanne made a few groggy clicks, before turning to hold his sister, wrapping around her smaller body in a protective cuddle. They both purred, closing their eyes and adjusting quietly. Philza smiled, waiting until they fell asleep before he silently left, shutting the door with a click behind him.

#mcyt g/t #qsmp g/t #mcyt vore #qsmp vore #g!chayanne #pred!chayanne #t!philza #t!tallulah #prey!philza #prey!tallulah #posts by sunny #sunnys fics

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4ng31-k1ss · 3 months ago

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I just realized

That I'm kinda jelous of my girlfriend. I am trans masc, she is trans fem (ik such a cute trans couple xD)

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Love rant about my ♡girlfrind♡ skip if you dc

I love her SO much, I love everything, and anything about her. I love looking into her eyes, the mix of green and brown its stunning. She's also so beautiful, smart, sweet, gentle, and elegant, but shes insecure and has been in relationships where she wasn't loved xc

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I'm chubby, warm medium skin, loud mouthed, rude, stupid, and just, I'm just a really big personality while shes more meek, quiet, elegant, and really talented with computer stuff. I love her so much.

I let her wear my clothes since shes thin, and since I'm fat my clothes fit her how she wants (oversized boyfriend sweater) makes her feel small and fem, and in return I get to sleep with a sweater that smells like her wtv.

Anytime I'm at her house and were just chillin she always is wearing my sweater with some boxer shorts and I've watched her change her CGM patch (Well I didnt really watch, I was high asf tucked into her bed ovi) and she took off my sweater ovi. When she took off my sweater I saw her stomach and it was like perfect, smooth, flat, and like I was shocked. I felt bad cause of how I was sexualizing her body, I felt bad cause of how jelous I am of how chill and comfortable her life has been. I felt bad cause I felt like I could never achive that and felt like I've failed. I've been fasting for around 2 years and I'm still fat. Still ugly, fat, and wearing XL.

I don't hate her because shes perfect. I love her so much, just insecure. She is thin and pretty, and I'm just fat and stupid, I don't wanna mess anything up. She tells me I'm pretty and handsome, but I can never let go of the feeling that she would like me more if I was a girl. I'm also worried that she is either dating me just cause she feels bad cause I've liked her for so long, or she dosent wanna be with me cause I'm fat, or maybe she's just with me cause I have a curvy softness she wants.

Maybe I'm just insecure? But she's made comments about how I give her gender envy and how she wishes she had my feminin figure and chest. I dunno how to feel.

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lolliesinthewind · 2 years ago

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the backroom

|japanese!character x chubby!black fem reader|

Content Warnings: dub-con, fingering, unprotected sex, sub!reader, workplace sex, oral sex (fem receiving), creepy!perv!dom character, he stares a lot,

(a/n: this is a oneshot about my sorta fear of japanese men, no discrimination they just scare me.)

wc: 2.6k

BEWARE THE TRANSLATIONS ARE AWFUL FALFOL! !!!

first pov:

i was never good at disobeying orders given to me you know, it was some instinct to listen to whoever was talking to me and i could never hear anything else that was around. as i got older i realized it was some sort of natural submissiveness, i soon learned that just looking at down and obeying commands wasn’t to get a woman like me far in life.

so i held my submissive self inside, worked hard, and got a corporate job that pays well too. even though i’ve maintained a stereotypical reputation of being hardworking and stoic i still have times when i become meek, quiet, and unfortunately submissive, on those days my co-workers don’t bother me they think i’m just having a bad day, and leave me alone but recently we got a new employee from another department. i haven’t seen him much just here and there around the office and it's always from behind from what i can tell he’s tall or taller than me at least.

ever since he came into the office i’ve been feeling eyes on me like the kind that gives you goosebumps, it makes me shrink into myself and talk softer so that whoever is staring doesn’t hear me speak. sometimes i like the staring and others i want to disappear because i feel his eyes stripping me bare. I just want to be left alone.

third pov:

the sound of a shrieking alarm awoke the pudgy black woman making her almost cry because of how much it scared her, despite her large frame the woman was more emotional and fragile than half of her co worker's kids but we digress. she began her day by forcing herself out of her plush bed, which she didn’t want to start.

on her way to work she nearly cried four times because she got yelled at during her city’s unforgiving traffic. it was a very bad morning for the sensitive woman. now at her job, she sat in the parking garage calming down and preparing herself for a semi-stressful day since she finished the editing on her most recent project and her unfinished work from last week since her company was renovating her floor, the 4th floor.

walking into her office she nodded at most of her co-workers, non-smiling and deflecting their good mornings, as she was getting closer to her desk she felt those eyes again. those eyes were stripping her naked and making her heat up even more as she had started her ovulation cycle earlier that week.

sitting the brown woman began her work, not stopping or moving from her desk until it was lunchtime. she never ate or used the breakroom or left her food in the company fridge; too many people and too many germs, but in this one instance she forgot to heat her food at home. she wanted to cry… again. with tear-filled eyes she got up and walked to the germ-infested breakroom. before walking she looked thru the doorway and didn’t see anybody which was surprising since normally it would be packed.

while waiting for her food to get hot in the microwave she stood near a wall staring at the door fidgeting with her hands and giving quick glances to the microwave which seemed to be taking forever to heat up. her heartbeat sped when she heard footsteps on the tile flooring heading towards her. her eyes widened slightly seeing it was the japanese man that just transferred to her department. his towering figure stood at the large doorway that now looked small compared to his height and his face was considerably handsome compared to the other men in her office but she still didn’t like the grin that appeared on his face it sent shivers down her spine.

something in the back of her head told her to run when he started to walk towards her. with every long step, he took she stepped back until she hit the wall, flinching as the cold wall touched her before and from him leaning down to say something to her in her ear.

“怯えた目で見られると、勃起して変質者のような気分になってしまうのです.” his deep voice whispered in her ear. his warm breath tickled her ear, making blood rush everywhere. it was all too much for her with the earlier traffic madness, her lunch situation, and now him, she couldn’t handle it and started to cry the tears that were gathering since this morning. fat salty tears started rolling down her chubby as she trembled and hiccuped, if anyone were to walk in they probably would’ve thought he was comforting a saddened friend.

the woman wanted to get away from him so badly but he was blocking the out for her so she resorted to pushing him away which didn’t work as she didn’t have much strength in her plushy body. the man grinned at her weak attempts to push him away it was so cute to see, he just had to have her all to himself.

“あなたは私を押しのけようとしているのがとてもかわいいです.” he cooed while grabbing her brown hands into his much lighter ones pulling the chubby woman close to him, wrapping his arms around her so fast she didn’t know what happened. squeezing her body against him gave him a feeling of euphoria it was something a kin to drug high and he wanted more. no, he had to have more, more of the feeling, more of her.

a sick thought plastered itself in his mind blocking all other thoughts and making him fully erect, his grin growing into a smile that made the woman shiver and whimper with fear because she knew what that smile meant it circulated in her subconscious late at night when she thought of him touching her in ways that would make a pornstar blush.

moving away from her, the perverted man stepped away far enough so he can watch her full body tremble before leaving the room, and the stout woman was confused as to what to do now. a grumbling sound came from her stomach making her face flush and remember her food in the microwave, after reheating it she speed walked to her desk noticing a note on her desk.

‘Go to room 44 on the second floor after you are done with your work. Don’t try to leave, I will know if you left.

-Your secret admirer’

fear-soaked arousal coursed throughout her body after reading the note. it shook something deep inside of her that made her obey his command, so she completed the rest of her work but she also stalled waiting for most of her co-workers to leave and go home. finally done with her work, she looked towards the window seeing that the sun was setting, her stomach twisted in excitement at what was about to happen and only 3 floors below was the man who started all of this sitting in a chair watching her through a security camera he hacked. he smiled seeing her shift in her seat before packing her things up and leaving for the elevator.

switching cameras he watches as that tubby woman pulled out the note and looks at it before pressing the second-floor button, his pants tightened just staring at her shift around on her feet oblivious to him watching her. after what felt like forever the elevator dinged knocking the brown woman out of her mind and into reality reminding her that this is actually happening. walking out onto the empty floor she speed-walked down a hallway trying to find room 44, twisting down hallways and rounding multiple corners she finally found it at the end desolate hallway.

the flickering lights gave a haunted feeling to the dark hallway which made the stout woman hesitate to open the door, biting her plush lips and fidgeting with her fingers she took a deep breath before opening the door and walking into the semi-lit room. only seeing light coming from one corner of the room, once fully inside she closed the door with her hands behind her back and her head down, she stood anxiously by the door, her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

tilting his head the japanese stared at her then stood up from the chair he had set by the only lamp in the room earlier that day, his footsteps oddly not making any sound as he walked towards her until they were so close that his feet were touching hers. hunching over he reached a pale hand out taking her face into his grasp, making her face pucker up as he squished it, his eyes staring into her brown widened ones with a sick smile on his face he noticed as she struggled to say on her tiptoes because he pulled her face close to his.

moving his hand from her to the back of her neck, he pressed his lips against her immediately shoving his tongue into her mouth not giving her the chance to breathe as his hands went to her ass pulling her black pencil skirt to her waist and massaging her ass whilst her hands were grabbing at his light blue button up shirt.

wanting to see more of the body she hid from he drew away from her addictive lips, placing his head on her shoulder he gazed with sparkly eyes watching as her brown ass spilled from his long pale fingers, it made him twitch in his light brown slacks. his reddened bottom lip pulled in between as he spread her open and smacked her ass watching it recoil, he was over the moon as she was finally in his grubby hands. pulling away from her body, he yanked the brown woman toward the desk he was previously at bending her over with one hand.

confused and horny she stayed bent over waiting for something to but the man just continued moving her ass with his hands until in a swift movement he ripped her soaked panties off her body and tucked them into his pocket without her knowing. spreading her open he groaned at the sight of her pussy, hyperpigmented lips covering her hole. her scent was light, he loved it.

“あなたはとてもいいにおいがする、たわごと.” he whispered, standing up, turning the plump woman on her back, and sitting in his seat from before. slowly caressing her thick thighs, he immediately attached himself to her throbbing clit, sucking on it harshly making her squeal loudly as her back arched off the desk, her chubby hands scrambling to grab onto his hair.

the japanese man watched through half-lidded as she moaned loudly, his tongue flicking her clit and her hips buckling to him. moving his hands to her entrance he slipped a finger into her warm, ribbed insides.

“more please, please, please.” she whimpered into the air looking down into the almond-shaped eyes between her brown legs, hearing her pleads for more he quickly added another within her, pumping hard his mouth still on her clit

he knew she was perfect for what he was about to do and now he couldn’t help but get obsessed with every kiss he presses onto her supple skin, every pump of his finger made into her incredibly tight hole. it filled him with the need to be inside her in more ways than one, he wanted every part of her to be his and his alone.

“i want you inside of me.” she whimpered, snapping the man out of his manic thoughts.

“huh?” he sounded.

“i wanna feel you more.” her voice said weakly, she couldn’t wait anymore, his fingers as good as they were, they weren’t satiating her needs as much as she wanted. sitting up the brown woman she glared her tear-filled eyes into his hazy ones. it was adorable to see her lamb-like eyes try and glare at him, but alas he didn't wanna leave his favorite girl begging as much as he wanted to. he could feel her barely hanging on by a thread.

sucking his lower lip in between his teeth he stood on his feet, slotting himself between her legs, and began to disrobe his lower half whilst watching his finger fuck the woman below him. refocusing his eyes, he trailed them up her body from her plump hickey-covered thighs to her ample chest which was covered by a pretty pink blouse that fitted her so well it made him smile endearingly. in her mind; his eyes were eating her alive and she loved it. It made her feel so pretty, she didn’t want to admit it to herself but she liked when he would stare at her in the office, she liked it when he stood over her earlier in the lunchroom but she would never admit it though.

one hard thrust snapped her back to reality, from what he didn’t make up in size he made up in thickness, his dick was so thick her pussy couldn’t handle it and tried to push him out, but he didn’t allow that to happen, his hips slammed onto hers, his dick kissing her cervix from deep he was in her. not stopping his thrust he pulled her so his chest was flush against hers, one hand held the back of her neck while the other slid in between them and his greedy fingers began to rub on her clit.

“kiss, i wanna kiss, please.” the pudgy woman whimpered out, he gave her what she wanted with fervor, and saliva was swapped as their tongues touched one another.

“fuck you’re so tight, i’m surprised i even got in this tiny little thing, oh fuck.” he said his accent prominent. skin slapped together as he continued his ruthless thrust not wanting to leave within her. a ring of cream formed around his dick before his eyes as he looked in between them. his breathing getting heavier and his eyes getting half lidded.

feeling an orgasm approaching she started to curse, pulling her legs upwards on the desk instead of around his waist and looked with him in pure arousal. her low moaning grew louder until she was nearly shouting. his thumb had begun to rub her clit harshly.

“fuck ima cum, oh my god, oh my god-“ her words with a kiss from the man unbeknownst to her he was close to cumming also. as she gushed around him, he pumped her full of his cum. he still thrusted but they were sloppy and slow.

both were panting as he slowly pulled out of her. cream covered his pubic hair and slick connected the two. the brown woman moved her hand spreading her puffy lips so watch as his cum dripped out of her. she rubbed the spilling all over her pussy making him groan. she stared in pleasure as his dick grew hard again.

“wanna fuck again?” she asked, rubbing her clit whilst looking him in the eye

“yes baby but this time in my bed,” he said, stroking his dick. “but before that.”

he guided his tip and only the tip into her pussy, continuing to stroke his dick. he moved her fingers away and took a hold of her poor clit. feeling it throb under his finger while he masterbaited himself, cumming only moments after as he was sensitive.

the man’s warm cum filled her pussy with a satisfying groan coming from him. when he pulled out again she quickly closed her legs and pulled down her skirt before stumbling around to find her kitten heels as he fixed himself up.

grabbed her heels along with the chubby woman's hand he walked her out of the dim room and into the renovated office. they went to go have more sex in the elevator, in the car, in his garage and all over his house.

#Spotify #black!reader #creepy #perv character #tw dubcon #they scare me

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robotstrategy · 1 year ago

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Recalled • Part 2 • 9 - Roland

Previous • Series Masterlist • Part 2 Masterlist • Next

Talking about your past is hard, much when you're talking to new people, it’s not like he can talk about these things to people from his past. The fact is most of the people he knows from his past don’t know he’s alive anymore or they would lash out at him if he ever remet them. It’s alright now though he’s got a new friend now, Kate, who looking at her ID card now knows that her full name is Katelyn Marigold Foster, not that he’s going to try to use the name Katelyn anytime soon. He’s trying to make friends and calling someone by their preferred name is probably the right thing to do in this situation.

“God, I’m like a Lemon Shark.” He groans out loud, making Kate giggle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“They’re known for stealing attention away from other sharks when they recognize a diver, but I guess for me it’s just that I’m protective of my friendships,” Roland says, ignoring the fact that he only has one friendship so far.

“Well if it isn’t Shark Boy, and this here must be Lava Girl?” Roland looks over to a group of guys who wander around the recall ward. They remind him of himself and his gang back in high school, except these bullies seem to be of the verbal type rather than physical.

“Would you shut up! Ugh! You guys are so annoying!” Kate yells, the main boy ignores her, looking back over to Roland.

“Not gonna say anything McMary?”

Roland doesn’t respond, he knows exactly how the boy’s game goes, because he’s played this game time and time before, if he doesn’t respond he isn’t giving him what he wants, so the boy will leave him alone.

“Thought so, anyway.” Roland hides his smile as the boy’s group goes back down the hall. “I’ve been alive for a month and I already have an enemy, it’s a new high score!” He laughs, directing his attention back to Kate.

“I still can’t believe you're alright with this! Aren’t you tired of him picking you, you know he’s convinced a lot of people here that… that you’re a Yin.” She tells him. Roland’s eyes shoot open in excitement.

“Oh, I haven’t that one before, maybe I’ll try telling others that I and him are datin- hmm, umm, actually, maybe not.”

Playing around with anything sexual gives Roland the ick, he can’t say he’s had any good experiences before, well maybe they were good to him at the time, but the recipients weren’t happy and now it makes him uncomfortable with himself, he’s hoping there was only two victims, a third and he might rip himself apart.

“You're going to a support group today, right? How are you feeling about that?” Roland pulls himself out of his thoughts to look back over to Kate.

“Honestly I’m kind of nervous about it, I’m one out of two Recalls there, the rest of the group is made up of Rewinds.” He says.

“You gotta think against Rewinds, Roland?” Kate teases him as he starts to panic.

“No! No, of course not, I just don’t think I’ll be able to relate to them, I don’t even know how far along they are, for all I know I won’t be able to understand them at all.”

“Relax! I’m joking, besides if they’re able to go to a support group I’m sure they’re able to talk properly” She laughed.

A little meek dark sienna boy is peeking around the corner, he looks like he’s lost.

“Umm, I’m trying to find Roland McMary, we're supposed to go to the taxi up front.” He pointed back to the way he came.

“Well I guess that’s my queue to go, I’ll see ya for supper!” Roland waved goodbye to Kate as he followed the boy up to the front of the building.

“So, what’s your name?” Roland asks the boy as they get settled. Looking at him more he has dark brown hair and brown eyes which is usually expected for some who are dark sienna.

“It’s Matteo.” He mumbles, looking back at the situation Roland realizes that Matteo is quite shy, it reminds Roland of himself now. Long gone is whatever Roland was in the past, not like he wants to think about it. Instead, he’s just this tough-looking boy who will shatter to pieces about the slightest inkling of his past.

“That’s a nice name, my name’s Roland.” He smiled, he looked over to Matteo awaiting an answer, afraid if he looked away Matteo would say something completely unhinged at him like the last time Roland was in a car. Matteo doesn’t respawn, so trying to not imagine the worst Roland looks away and back out the window.

“I knew that, I was calling for you earlier.” Roland mentally smacks himself in the face as he looks back over to Matteo. It looks like trying to make a good impression got in the way of his intelligence.

“Are you scared Roland?” Matteo looks to the floor mats as Rolans listens to him. “I mean about the Rewinds, I mean, I’m sure they’re okay but-”

“Yeah, I am a little scared.” He looks down to the floor mats with Matteo.

“But- umm, we’ve got each other right? We can do this…..” Roland nervously smiles as he cringes at every word that slips out of his mouth. The wording he’s using is usually reserved for someone like Lilian.

Soon enough they make it to the support group building, it looks a lot like a State Ward, in fact, it's probably just the back of one Roland thinks to himself. Going into the building itself, the lobby is very sleek and modern, peeking into the hall Roland looks down to see something akin to a preschool, bright and colourful. Trying to go in he hears someone clear their throat, he looks over to see a woman at the front counter and Matteo now wearing a name tag with his name on it.

“I’m guessing you’re Roland? Your support group is down the hall and to the left.” The woman doesn’t look up from her computer while holding out his name tag. Taking it, he reads it, Roland D. McMary, there’s a light blue square beside his name with the word ‘MODIFIED’ under it. Pinning the tag to his sweater he takes a peek at Matteo’s tag which has a dark blue diamond on it with the word ‘STABLE’ under the square. He shrugs this off before he and Matteo go down the hall together.

In truth he had already heard these terms and seen these icons; he had just never paid any attention to them until now.

Entering the doorway it seems they’ve been taken into another lobby, but this one is all colourful like the hallway. Roland looks over to see kids playing with a decently sized box, one of them sits in it while the other’s lightly push them around, they seem to be losing their marbles in fits of laughter.

Noticing Roland and Matteo enter the room, the one in the box stands up and looks at them.

“Come! Join!” They say.

Roland looks over to Matteo, who shakes his head, not wanting to seem rude Roland gets closer to the group.

“Sure, why not?”

Getting closer to the box he starts to second guess himself now realizing how big it is, before he can take a step back three of them surround him and push him into the box, giggling as they close him in.

‘Oh god! Oh no!’ Roland thinks to himself ‘It’s just like back at the graveyard!’. They start pushing him around and as their laughter gets louder and louder Roland starts shrieking in fear.

#unwind dystology #unwind #unwind series #unwind fanfic #unwind oc #sequel fic #roland taggart

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inviouswriting · 2 years ago

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Dragon and Phoenix

This is the start of a series, and hopefully I don’t get cold feet or lose interest writing this.

This is a self-insert writing.

Pairing is my character Aserla and Zhongli.

Premise is Zhongli puts out a unique request asking someone who would want to spend the rest of their life with him. My unique little take on an arranged marriage idea.

Eventually this story will have the spicy stuff. Gotta work up to that slowly, and we know how I write. Enjoy this world building and my branching out into something for myself among all the stuff I give others to read. Thank you if you take interest! I wrote 13 pages in 24 hours.

First chapter to this~ Alot of world building and setting the pace.

There is something unlike this encounter, and she is aware of it. To chance on him was one thing, so many people told stories about meeting him. Yet it never prepared for a real encountered. She knew who he was before he spoke to her. There was no mistaking who he was, even if he did his best to remain a civilized being on the front. The authoritative personality, yet gentle, refined and certain of himself.

This is Morax, he is Rex Lapis. It is a magnetic connection, and she didn’t know what she was agreeing to from the beginning. She had answered a unique request on a guild board by the gentleman Zhongli.

The quest was to meet him for the details, yet something drew her to look at his eyes. She couldn’t look from his amber eyes, they’re molten, penetrating, yet hold a softness that made her freeze in her tracks when she focused on them.

“What would you ask of me?” He had asked her, and it was a strange question. It felt like time is holding still; it felt like the air around them dissipated, and she felt her heart hold in her chest.

“Did you read the contents of the contract that you hold?” His next question came out of the blue, and it shook her out of her daze. She skims the document again, and she looks up at him. His arms are folded as he waits for her to answer him.

She needed to be sure that she is ready to answer, someone else would answer this once in a lifetime opportunity. A chance she won’t pass up if this is who she suspects him to be. She’s dreamed of him all her life, as far as she could, this very situation in front of her. Who wouldn’t have had a dream or two of the Lord of Geo.

“I have read your contract. I am just a little surprised you would put out a request like this. Most people… don’t seek a marriage this way.” She appears meek and quiet. Her demeanor is shorter than his, light brown for hair and blue eyed.

“I agree it isn’t the most conventional method, yet… someone answered it. So, do you agree to it?” Zhongli only offers her a gentle smile, he is prepared for it to be rejected, and he’d toss this idea out the window. Rather leaving love up to chance rather than seeing if the odd woman would pick it up after hearing how ridiculous it sounds. His eyes widen upon her answer.

“I agree. What I would ask of you… is to show me genuine love.” Her eyes do not dip from his, and he is taken aback by how there is no hesitance within her soul or eyes. Her request within, softens his heart more. Reminds him almost of another he held so dear to his heart in Guizhong.

“So do you swear to intertwine your fate to mine? There is no backing out of this once you agree. Our pact will be final, and our contract will be lasting forever. You realize that right?” Zhongli has uncrossed his arms and holds his hand out to her, as if to draw her in closer to shake on this unique request. To seal a contract made with the former God of Contracts.

“I do swear to intertwine my fate to yours. I am certain of what I am agreeing to, and I promise to make your days happy and fulfilling.” She takes his hand and feels a sensation prickling at her fingers as she touches his hand.

“Then our contract will be sealed. There is no breaking this, you understand that yours and my word are bonded.” His voice is so absolute it almost scares her. Yet she nods to his agreement, breaking a contract to the very God of Contracts would be the grievous of sins entirely. Zhongli feels it too, a unique sensation that rushes through him. He’s never felt this in years, he had graced this feeling before eons ago. Even thought to never have this thought again in love. Yet he feels it in this woman; it is like they’re both zapped by something, and they retreat their hands after holding for too long.

“Tell me your name? My dear.” He breaks the silence between them; Zhongli is a lot softer to her, sensing her uneasiness from the recent serious tone he took. ”Aserla.” She tells him clear and he feels another sense wash through him at hearing her name. A sense of pride in this woman, pride that turns his lips up into a smile, like he has chosen the right woman.

“A beautiful name; for such a beautiful woman.” There is a flash of color on her face and he has to hold himself back from the laugh that bubbles in him. She’s flustered already, and he has a few more questions. She must certainly know who he is, Zhongli is certain she knows his identity.

“You know who I am then?” There is a tentative nod from her, and he closes their distance between them. She’s so tiny to him, and he feels himself enamored already from the fire within her soul.

“I believe I do.” Aserla’s answer is soft; her eyes haven’t left his and she is sure now that this is who she thinks him to be. There is no other person that would take contracts this serious. Even what feels like frivolous ones, yet what his request is, is far from frivolous. It is to share one’s life with him; something he had never done was be married.

“I trust you will keep that secret to your grave. No one must know that I, Zhongli, am the former Lord of Geo, Morax, and all of the like names.” He explains this to her and she nods in agreement. Their meeting space overlooks part of the Guili plains in one of the wooded areas. When she approached him, he was gazing out over it in deep contemplation when he had heard someone answered his request.

“Of course, no one would believe me anyway.” Zhongli closes his eyes for a moment, thinking of whether he has doubts himself before they leave, they still have a chance to leave it. He has to check to be sure with her.

“Do you have any lingering doubts, or hesitations knowing my secret.” Zhongli walks to her and places a hand under her chin to tilt her face up. Getting a better look at her face and eyes, he already sees a look in them. One that spells a mutual feeling building in him. Love.

“I don’t have any doubts, or hesitations.” Aserla answers him, letting him tilt her head up, inspecting her face. He taps on her face marks that he counts in his head. Freckled marks; tracing diamonds from it and softening his gaze more.

“Good then. Shall we then? Head home?” One of the conditions he had placed into the contract was someone willing to leave a lot behind for him. To have someone that will move in with him upon saying yes.

“Yes, lets.” Zhongli takes her hand in his to lead the way back; she follows with him and is taken off guard with stumbling a little to keep up with his long strides. She soon does, walking next to him, feeling a little silly holding the former Archon’s hand like this. Yet there is a familiarity to it, and she sees him sneaking side glances at her from the corner of his vibrant gold eyes.

It felt like at least an hour of walking with him before they reached Liyue Harbor, the salt air graces Aserla’s nose, and she looks at the way this place will be her home. She lets go of his hand as she walks to the spot that overlooks the city best. A look of awe in her eyes as the sun was beginning to set, the sky painting its unique tones over the water, acting like a mirror on the still surface to reflect it the city in its glory.

Zhongli is struck watching her innocence in this moment, she’s seen the city before, but it is a first to see someone see it in such a vibrant way. It’s endearing to him to see her so mesmerized by something he’s seen countless times, he knows every time of day to see his own region, the best lookout spots. Where to hear the music as it starts to come to life at night, where the first lamp is lit to when the birds will roost.

“It’s really pretty.” Her voice is soft, and Zhongli reaches a hand to the side of her head to touch her. She sees this and lets him; the glove of his hand rests on top of her head and smooths down to the back. He takes in that she wears her hair long and, in a tie, similar to his own. Unlike his, her hair is a lot shorter than his own, she looks up at him, and he’s met with his own first sight of her.

Bright eyes look at him with such love in them, that he’s breathless let alone how the color of her eyes seem to be vibrant blue from the fading sunlight shining on her face. She holds such a face filled with joy he’s transported years back when he first remembers that day Guizhong scattered glaze lily seeds everywhere. A fondness in his heart, but something deeper for Aserla.

“You look beautiful.” Aserla lifts her gaze to his face with a blush on her face at him calling her beautiful again. He doesn’t miss the falter in her eyes, the insecurity over her own appearance. He sees her soften her eyes before breaking his stare to look out over the city. He will hope to make her see what he sees one day.

Zhongli leads her from this lookout spot, into the city; stopping briefly to grab a quick bite of mora meat sandwiches to tie them over till dinner could be decided. Aserla stays close to his side, picking up his hand on her own as they reach the bridge leading to another section of the city.

It feels as if they’ve been walking for hours, they have been walking for a while. Till Zhongli stops in front of a quaint two-level house. It looks simple yet ornate, and Aserla understands that this is his home, now hers as well. The outside of it, it is easy to miss if no one is paying attention; she notes the upper level has a balcony with a table and seat. Probably where he will sit with his tea to watch sunrise and sunset.

“We’re here, we can talk about some of the specifics of our arrangement inside. I apologize for making you walk all the way to Guili plains then all the way here. I wanted to be sure of the person I met for this would be wanting to agree, and well… it would be easier for them to walk to Wanshu Inn or Liyue Harbor if they decided no.” Aserla smiles to him, seeing how selfless he is with this decision. He was thinking of convenience of his future partner’s behalf.

“Alright, what would you like to discuss?” Aserla answers him, looking up into gold eyes, and he meets her gaze. Warm smile on his lips as he thinks to answer her about the obvious next stage in their life.

“Plans for a wedding.” Her eyes go wide at this, him being serious about marriage, and most of all with her. Zhongli guides her up to the door and fishes a key out from one of his pockets. He opens it and gestures for her to go in first.

A little hesitance in her body of stepping in through that threshold, it made it real for her that this isn’t some dream of hers. She removes her shoes upon the entry, and he does the same thing. Aserla hears him release a sigh at being in his home and he goes about turning lamps on to light the dark hallways.

“When do you want to have one?” Aserla asks him, she takes in the decor, a lot of really expensive looking vases with flowers all around. Trinkets and stones tucked on shelves or scrolls from the many times he has stepped foot into an antique store and hasn’t left empty handed. The house itself is expansive as much as the expensive, she wonders how he manages to pay for this.

“Anytime you want to have one. We can have one done tomorrow, the next day, and any time you feel ready to have a ceremony. I know I’d like to have a large one at some point, but maybe since our arrangement is a little different than some. We can even have a simple private one with someone from the civil affairs oversee us.” Zhongli explains this like he has thought it through, and she is amazed that he brings up the option of a private ceremony for their idea.

Aserla watches him as he moves throughout his living space with ease, from removing his coat to hanging it up. She follows him, taking in her new home and the man she’ll share it with. Zhongli is already starting a fire to the stove and adding water into a kettle.

“Make yourself comfortable. If you need to know where anything is, I can show you. Bathroom is in the hall near the kitchen. Bedroom is the door on the far left. Living room is near kitchen and bathing area is adjacent to the bathroom.” Aserla looks around more still bewildered by how much it looks so neat and orderly. It fits for this man and the way he presents himself.

Aserla looks at herself and to her surroundings, it almost seems too much for her. Like she shouldn’t be allowed this chance to be happy. When she finally rounds the corner and finds the kitchen, he’s in, she notes he is also making something more to eat for both of them.

Blue eyes regard him quietly as she finds a couch to sit on, her hands taking in the smooth covers and hums at how soft the texture is. Zhongli observes her from the kitchen, taking in the wonder and amazement this woman has. Like she hasn’t seen such things in her life.

Aserla feels his eyes on her and lifts her gaze to meet the warm amber ones. Her face pinks up at the realization she never answered him about when she’d like to have the ceremony. She also feels immensely tired the day being eventful and between saying goodbye to her old life for a new one. Her hands find comfort in squeezing her wrists and feeling parts of her skin as a fidget.

“I… think I’d like to have a private ceremony. Like what you suggested in a swift one from the civil affairs.” She finally answers him, and he softens his eyes at this idea. He’d like to have a large event, but he also will enjoy a small one with her. Her comfort to be considered, and it would be odd to many of his acquaintances or friends to know that suddenly he’s announcing a big wedding. A small intimate one will suffice for this man who has spent countless eons with so many traditions made. Set them aside.

“That will be fine then. Maybe later down the road of our companionship. You’ll entertain me in having a proper larger scale one?” Zhongli looks over the stove he’s tending to with a sense of somber to him. A yearning between keeping all the foundations he’s made and witnessed, to simply keeping the interest of this woman who has taken his unique request.

Aserla sees this look on his face and thinks it over as she watches his back as he is graceful in adding ingredients to strengthen the flavor of the soup he makes. She feels a sense of awe still but can also sense the longing and loneliness present within him.

“I would like to do that with you, at a later date.” There is a twitch up of his lips in regard of her answer.

“I’ll hold you to that, but at your comfort, and when you say we can have that more public ceremony.” Zhongli opens one of the cabinets and it is full of varying teas, she can count so many canisters and boxes, each intricate and he has it organized by type, region, and sizes. Aserla perks her head up as he selects a particular box, one that seems more ornate than the rest as his favorite.

“Would you like to look through them? Find one you like?” Zhongli sees her staring at the collection with such wide eyes. He finds it adorable he’s seeing her perk up this way. Aserla does get up from where she had taken a seat at and stands next to him looking at the teas he has. She follows her nose to one that stands out to her and plucks it from its spot.

“That’s a sunsietta and green tea. It’s from Inazuma, that is a nice choice.” Zhongli holds his hand out for her to hand it to him. She does and she watches him as he adds the powder into her cup. His hands are so elegant as he makes tea, from how strong he makes his own to trying to guess what her take is on tea. ”A little more please and thank you” Aserla’s voice is soft as she speaks, and he adds enough that makes it strong yet not overpowering. Zhongli steals a glance at her, seeing how transfixed she is on his hands. The former archon turns with both cups and sets them on the table behind them. He sets hers next to the open space next to where he is choosing to sit down at.

“By all means, what is mine is yours now. If you’ve never had this tea before, you’ll enjoy its delicate flavor with just a hint of sweetness to balance the green tea’s bitter. It’s best enjoyed without adding anything sweeter, unless you like honey.” Aserla looks up at him as he rambles on about this, seeing such light in his eyes at explaining the whereabouts and how to pair it.

Aserla still feels a sense of nervous, but slowly it is ebbing away as she spends more time in his presence. She takes over temporarily stirring the pot for the soup while he fixes the table, he removes his gloves during this, he’s fidgeting with the chair wondering if she should sit closer to him or let her have distance to decide that. He settles for an in between with enough elbow space but close enough that she can lean into him if she chooses.

“My apologies, I’ve not done this in years. So if you’re unsure of whether to sit closer or further. It won’t offend me if you’re not ready to be close to me.” Zhongli looks over to her, and for a brief sense he feels he’s already at home with her. He feels silly he even did such a request, the guild looked at him like he was crazy when he posted it, he wonders what they thought when someone actually answered it.

Shaking his head free of thoughts, Zhongli returns to the stove to dish out some of the bamboo shoot soup, he had finished making it hours ago and knew the flavor would set in about the time he reheated it for the proper dinner he’d have. In decorated bowls he sets hers down and takes the seat meant for her to offer her a gesture. She takes it sitting down and he pushes her in closer.

Aserla feels a lot smaller after Zhongli sits down in his seat next to her. She feels so close to him that she can pin the scent she had been smelling in the air down. The black tea he had selected for himself, he has this defined scent of tea to him, along with a sharper one of sandalwood. She had smelled an incense he had lit when she came in and combined with what permeated off him. It gives her a sense of calm despite her nerves shooting through the roof.

When she takes the first bite of food, Aserla is astounded at how unique it is, the flavor is rich and mellow. She’s reminded of the man next to her and looks up to see him watching her seeing that surprise on her face.

“Good, isn’t it?” Zhongli is met with immediate nods, he sits back with his cup of tea, she notes that his is square compared to her rounded one. Aserla is reminded of their conversation, and she still needs to answer him about a time frame to set, whether she wants to be married in documents sooner or can wait a few more days to acclimate herself to her soon to be husband’s mannerisms.

“I like this, and trying to think of a time frame… I…” She muses to herself; her thoughts trailing to what it entails to be married, and what married people do. Her face goes immediate red upon one thought of consummating that marriage and looks up at him with wide eyes.

Zhongli is puzzled by this face she is making, until realization of what she is thinking about. Very brief there is a twitch of his lips as he regards her with reverence and reaches his hand to make the second touch, he does with her. He takes her left hand to squeeze it reassuring.

“Only when you’re ready for that. I will never force your hand to do something with me until you approach me. Sex especially. We will both know when the time is appropriate. I will go by what you feel comfortable with. We can do that tonight, tomorrow, weeks, a month, a year, or never at all.” Aserla stares at him for this, never has she had someone consider her preferences, or wants. Not to the extent to where she can say no to something like that. What a lot expect out of a marriage is children, or to be married just for the ability to do that. He continues his words.

“As for a time, I am off work for the next half week. I took a leave upon this request being answered. I figured it would help with getting you use to my life and presence, as well as handling any paperwork we need to attend. Like signing an official marriage contract. That can be handled anytime this week, I have someone on standby at the ministry of civil affairs. The question to you is how soon do you want to be married? You have up until we sign that document to say no to all of this.” As he spoke Aserla thinks it over; her thoughts run wild at the last few hours how she went through so many emotions. How her feet almost carried her back to the guild to turn it down, getting cold feet, to where she is now.

Zhongli’s presence calms her in a way she can’t express, and feeling his hand gently squeezing hers to assure her she never has to sleep with him. Even the length of the marriage if she chooses to never do it with him. She sets the spoon she has down to place her right hand over the top of his that holds hers.

“Then I’d like to give tomorrow a trial run. If I don’t like how a full day with you is like. Then I will give you my answer at dinner, but I would like to sign that document day after tomorrow? Does that sound fair to you? That way you can also decide if you really want me as your life partner like this.” Aserla feels her own hands shaking at the idea of being rejected, he is someone she has dreamed about for so long. He’s in her grasp and she doesn’t want to let this opportunity to slip out of her hands at all.

“That is fine with me. As for being sure about you. I do not need to reconsider my decision. I am already set on you. A full day with you already sounds exciting.” Zhongli squeezes her hand again before slipping it from her grasp to resume the quiet meal. He is already on his third cup of tea by the time she finishes her food.

When Aserla picks up her tea she smells it first as if to take in all the notes within it. Her eyes closed to take it in. The faint sweetness of the sunsietta takes her mind somewhere else and Zhongli can’t help watching her for a reaction to this tea. He wonders if it will be the same, he has when he first sipped it. When she does drink it, her eyes go wide at how surprisingly sweet it is yet holds a refreshing taste like if were mixed with a peach or raspberry.

“To your liking? That expression you made tells me you really enjoy it. Do you have a favorite? I can see about finding it if you have a comfort one.” Zhongli lets a small chuckle leave him over how she takes another longer sip to chase the sweetness on her tongue. A similar reaction he did, he prefers his teas with a stronger and rich taste compared to fruity or sweet. He makes a mental note to order more of that one for her though. He has many for her to try, and he can already tell she’s a tea lover like him. She’s adorable to boot, he’s already smitten by how honest she’s been and the way she holds herself.

“I didn’t expect it to be that sweet, you are right it doesn’t need anything more. As for a tea I like… I lean more towards minty herbals and ones that are more calming. Nothing overly floral tasting.” She agrees with his earlier statement, as she informs him of the teas she enjoys. As she finishes the bowl of her soup, she sees him collect it to wash them. His sleeves rolled up to take care of them. Her mind drifts to the fact it is towards the time of night to settle down.

Zhongli settles down after setting the dishes to dry, and the pot he used over the burner upside down to let the previous heat dry it from the inside. He moves over to the living space after selecting a book to read. His eyes lift to her watching his movements about his home.

“Would you like to take a bath?” The question comes out of nowhere, and she glances up at him for suggesting it.

“W-with you?” A soft laugh comes from him, and not one to miss a chance to tease. He lowers his eyes, and she swears she sees them glow under the faint light. He lights a table lamp near him to make it easier on his eyes.

“Only if you want me to take one with you. I wouldn’t mind at all.” There is a scoff from her at what he suggests, and he can’t help finding the face she makes endearing. Red faced and doesn’t miss her sticking her tongue out at him in retaliation.

“I’d like to take one then. By myself for now.” Zhongli only smiles at her request to take one solitary. There might be a chance to take one with her, and he looks forward to relaxing with her in that sense. Before he sits down to read; he leads her over to the bathing area.

When Aserla walks through this door she is met with a sight that makes her mouth open. The bath itself is an ornate spring, she wonders if he had made his home on top of this spot before he retired his role. That would be a question she’d ask when he’s more comfortable to open that door with her.

“Towels are right here, there is soaps there. Do you have any you brought with you? If not you can use mine till, we can shop for you; get you things, you want. Clothes to change into?” Zhongli asks her a bunch of questions, yet she is in awe over how this room is beautiful. From the stone that surrounds the water, the steam that rises from it and where he has a cold spring near it.

“I didn’t bring soaps with me, but I do have clothes. D-did you make this?” Her question comes out as a whisper. She notes there is a mirror too, it is there she really takes in her appearance next to this man. He’s so regal looking compared to her simple appearance. Yet he’s settling when he could have anyone, he’s handsome, he’s well-spoken and decorated in himself. While she feels plain, like this is almost too much for her.

Cold feet starting to rise in her, yet it ebbs when she feels his hand on her shoulder. That reassurance from him quells the inner thoughts that if he didn’t like her from the start, she wouldn’t be here.

“You can use one of mine for now. I can bring you your belongings, you set them down in the hallway right? Yes, I did make this. One of the last things I did before I gave up my gnosis was to create a home for myself.” He says it with ease, like it isn’t painful for him to think about. Aserla looks up at him as he speaks, he even hands her his favorite soap he uses. That gentle sandalwood scent she had smelled, with a hint of cloves and lavender to it.

“These smell really nice, and I’d be okay with you doing that for me.” Zhongli holds the soap for her to smell it, see if she likes it. When she enjoys the scent of it, he sets it into the towel he has given her, along with some bottles that contain things for her hair.

“The restroom is connected by that door; I believe I don’t need to go over the use of that room.” It’s such a gentle tease, and one that earns her puffing her cheeks in embarrassment over being told that. Of course, she doesn’t need to go over the function of that room. Amber eyes regard her with mischief lit in them, he soon leaves her to go get her things. When she is alone, and it will take him a bit to return to her. Is when she makes use of that room, to take care of that since they arrived.

When she leaves the connected room, she sees her bag she has with her clothes resting inside the threshold. Aserla wonders how fast he was; and pokes her head out of the room brief to determine how long he was there. His retreating back is enough to tell her he slipped it inside and left her to be.

A knowing smile on his lips at what it takes to get use to living with someone. Specially someone of a love interest. Aserla sets the clothes she was wearing into where he instructed her for dirty clothes, and where she can rest her clean ones. She gives a glance of herself in that mirror, seeing how her form is, she is a little more full in some spots, and it makes her anxious for the day he sees her body, if she lets him see her in a state of undress. Would he like what he sees of her. Would he not want her. These thoughts run wild from her, and she has to remind herself that if he didn’t want her. She wouldn’t be here with him handing her soaps and making her as comfortable as possible so she can adapt.

Aserla sets about to wash herself taking great care in using as little of his soap as possible so he has something if he chooses to bathe after her. She uses enough to make sure she is clean, and there is something extra about the scent once the heat of the water is on it, it is much more fragrant than she anticipated. Her senses are overloaded from an underlying scent of bergamot and cinnamon to it. Those scents she couldn’t figure out on him earlier.

The soaps and oils for her hair, she is a little underwhelmed that they don’t have the same overpower, but probably due to he doesn’t need cleansers for how silky and easy his hair looks to manage compared to her own. After she is done with the initial cleaning of herself is when she dips her toes into that hot spring he had made. She enters it through the side closest to the cold water running in.

Aserla allows herself to feel this vulnerability to wash over her. It’s a first for her to be treated with so much kindness from one person, without even knowing her history yet. Without prying for details as to why she agreed to this without disclosing anything. She knows she’d never take advantage of him and his pure generosity he’s shown her. It overwhelms her that such a selfless man would even entertain it, give everything up to a gamble.

She doesn’t realize she is shedding tears till they drop into the water. Her mind goes to how long she’s been in there and gets out soon when her mind feels too hot. Aserla sits on the edge of the stone seating that leads into the water with her feet dipped in, running a brush through her hair to take care of it.

After dressing in sleep clothes, a simple silk blue slip robe is when she takes a deep breath after looking herself over in the mirror. The slip goes down to her thigh, and she realizes how high it might be if she sits down near him. He assured her they would get her more things to make her comfortable, but only if she fully agrees to the arranged marriage.

Zhongli lifts his head from his book hearing the door open and seeing her leave the bath. Gold eyes widen along with his heart almost stopping at the sight of her. He didn’t expect to see someone whose natural beauty shines like this. A flush on her face from being stared at, she is trying to stay calm as she sits at the other end of the couch he is on. Tucking herself into the arm as far from him as possible.

He is able to pick up on her uneasiness and takes the silent hint to not stare at her. Instead, he places the bookmark into the book and sets it down onto the table while he stands up. He had dressed down even more to just the shirt he wears underneath the vest and coat, his tie loose and the ornaments still clinging onto it.

“You look beautiful. It’s my turn to take a bath now. You can take the rest of your belongings into our room, if you’d like to hang things up.” Zhongli stretches a bit; he gives her more time alone to get use to these living spaces. Seeing her so far away from him, he took her silent hint that she isn’t ready to be so close to him in a state of undress just yet. He smiles to himself though at how lovely she looks with her hair down. How her hair seems to frame her face and he can see how the color makes her eyes stand out more.

Aserla is looking at his back again as he already has a change of clothes selected in his own robe and she finds herself watching as the ponytail he wears wavers around behind him. She finds herself looking at how fitting those pants are on him, and her face heats up trying to imagine what he looks like without them.

She has to lift her gaze when he turns enough to see her before he goes into the bath. Amber eyes regard her with amusement catching her staring at him. It doesn’t take anyone long to realize where one is staring if they’re red faced and he caught her staring at his rear. He doesn’t tease her about it pass a knowing glance and wink to let her know, he knows.

It is Zhongli’s turn to reflect on his day and after spending time with her like this, he is certain of his own resolve in choosing her. Aserla has that underlying fire within her soul, one that speaks to his own without physically saying anything. She’s magnetic to him, he finds himself to look away from her when she is in the same space.

The former archon goes over the bathing room to see what she has done, he notes how she is mindful to not use so much of his soaps. Even as he runs a lot of it into his own skin. His own clothes are added to the basin she had tossed hers into. He is thorough in his own routine, lining his own hair with the soaps that are his own, taking great care till he is satisfied.

Sitting in the hotter end of the pool of water; Zhongli goes through his mind about the next order of business. Sleeping arrangements, he is already prepared to sleep in his living room in the instance that she doesn’t want to share the bed just yet. He will give that to her without question or fuss. She is a guest until she says yes to him, and for now he does his best to remain a hospital host to her. He feels his senses drift more, and almost entertains other thoughts but doesn’t to not stain his first memories of her with lust.

Like her he spends a good deal of time going through his hair to brush it through while it dries so he can pin it up again sooner. Zhongli thinks to how this even happened, it was at Hu Tao’s suggestion that he even attempts this. He entertained her on a whim and even made a bet he will pay off to the young overseer. He shivers at the idea that he will have to entertain one of her business ploys to pull customers in. Yet because of her, he has this rare chance to let fate happens as it does. Things are in motion, and he can’t rush them, or he’ll scare Aserla off.

When he emerges from his own bath he can hear rummaging through his room and follows the sound of her opening wardrobes and drawers trying to make sense of where she can put stuff away in the near future.

Zhongli’s room is as neat and orderly as he is, the bed is closest to the window where light can poor into it. His bedding has his symbols all over it in golds and browns everywhere. Two wardrobes lined one wall, and three dressers to the walls where he keeps his clothes. A short bookshelf on the other side of the room near the window; chair and table where he can read undisturbed for hours. The curtains are drawn close for now, he hadn’t opened them when he returned. He leans against the door to wait for her to notice him, he watches her run her hands on one of his former archon outfits, the one he wore eons ago around the time of Guizhong.

Aserla’s hands take in how soft the material is, then passes her hands on the one outfit she has seen the most of in tapestries and paintings of the Lord of Geo. The white and black robes; she touches over the silk of the torso finding the centers inlaid with cor lapis. She sees more normal outfits like what he wore today, having some duplicates of the suit he presents himself in. All of his clothes have that same sandalwood and tea scent to them, and she leans in to take in the unique scent she detects.

“Something you like on them?” Zhongli’s voice sounds in the room, and Aserla jumps a few feet high with a yelp, bumping her head on the rod that holds the clothes up making it pop off and fall with her as she lands on the floor. There is an additional sound of feet rushing to her and the catching the rod before it can hit her in her head twice, but it doesn’t stop the clothes that do land on her in a heap, or how she scrambles to unearth herself from them.

“My apologies! I didn’t mean to startle you! Are you alright my dear?” He is helping her out of these clothes trying to untangle her from the white robe that has her completely covered. When her head pops up through the hood is when he takes her head to look up at him. Concern writ in his eyes over whether she hurt herself, a blush on her face from how tender he touches her head where he saw the center impact her most. She winces when his fingers touch the offended area, and there are brief tears at the corner of her eyes from it hurting. She’s certain she has tears from embarrassment more than pain.

“I’m fine! I’m fine! Embarrassed is all!” She tells him flustered; his right hand rests at the side of her face to get her to look up at him. Amber eyes regard her blue eyes, searching them to be sure she is okay. She isn’t concussed, and that relieves his mind. Zhongli’s hand lingers on her cheek; and she is keeping his stare on her eyes.

There is relief in his eyes hearing she is fine from the mishap, and seeing just how flustered she is now, the way her face is several shades of red. It’s endearing. He has to hold himself back from laughing at her, she has no idea how she looks with his clothes on her in heaps. It’s a visual metaphor to him, that this woman is about to be his future. Zhongli looks at her with just the hood of his archon robe over her head. Her eyes look so wide at his as he’s a lot closer than he should be. He can hear her heart beating fast, even feel it when he begins to remove the robe from her, his hand passing over her heart to take it from her.

Aserla’s heart is racing; she is so close to him, and it is exciting her more than the embarrassment. The care he has expressed; her eyes haven’t left his and she feels the heat eminating off her face when he lowers his face closer to inspect her further. She intakes a breath of air and holds it when his face is inches from hers. Zhongli slips his hands up into the hood on her head and slowly unveils her from it.

“I’ll get you some ice.” Zhongli collects his clothes from her, putting them to the side to be properly cared for after he attends to her. He stands up with the rod to put back up in its spot. He takes a bit longer to unwrap her from the white one, their exchange is sweet, and he can’t help but find her so adorable like this. He helps her to her feet and gets her to sit on the edge of the bed. He leaves her momentarily to retrieve some ice for her and rests it on her head.

“Thank you.” Aserla takes the ice bag and holds it in place wincing at the slight sensitivity on her head. She looks at him with a sheepish stare for being caught smelling his clothes. Zhongli gives her a apologetic smile for scaring her enough to get hurt.

“It must have been a little weird seeing me sniff some of the clothes. There is a scent I couldn’t figure out… and I like it.” Aserla admits after a while of silence between them, Zhongli looks her over and feels warmth in his heart at hearing this little confession. He steels himself though; he can’t be falling in love with her just yet. Their trial day is tomorrow, and he holds onto that lingering bit of hope that things fall into place naturally. He already feels natural in her presence, no stiffness, no fear besides her declining him.

“If it were anyone else, I would find it weird or odd to smell the clothes of someone you had just met. Yet, when you did it, I found it cute. You had such a look of curiosity and enjoyment on your face. Did you find space for where you would want to place your belongings? After tomorrow, I can move my clothes to one wardrobe and give you the right half of the other.” He speaks as though he’s making plans for their future, to make her comfortable, to plan for her addition to his life entirely.

“I did find space and thank you. I don’t have a whole lot with me.” Aserla has hope in her chest and she hopes she isn’t making a mistake. She reminds herself that this is the former Lord of Geo, maybe if she says it enough times in her head it will stick. Yet it doesn’t stop her from reaching a hand up to his face; Zhongli doesn’t move from her attempt to touch him; he welcomes it in fact even leaning into her hand that seeks him. Amber eyes regard her with a look of longing and trust.

“Yes? My dear? How is your head? Has the swelling gone down?” Zhongli checks with her; still concerned on her wellbeing. He lingers with her hand on his face a bit longer then stands up when she nods. He takes his clothes that fell from their hangers and places them back in their respective order. The older clothes he had worn further in back while ones he will wear out sooner up closer.

“I can let you have the bed to yourself tonight, if you’re still uneasy. I’ve already got things selected for sleeping out in the other room for tonight.” Zhongli informs her of his plan to sleep out in the other room, to let her gradually warm up to the idea of sharing the bed with him after tomorrow.

“You don’t have to leave the room.” Aserla stammers under her breath, she feels terrible that he has been so gracious with her and patient. The least she can do is not kick him from his own bed. He’s surprised about this, and wonders if she hit her head harder than he thought. He doesn’t question it to make her lose her nerve and sets his coat into the wardrobe last after straightening it out.

“Thank you, for letting me stay in here tonight. I will not touch you unless you want me to.” The old man says with a soft voice, assuring her ability to say no at any time. Aserla looks at the bed, it is wide enough that she can be on one side and him on the other. Zhongli holds his hand out to take the ice from her and leaves to put it away. Aserla is alone with her thoughts in a room that isn’t hers yet, the silk and heavy sheets beneath her make her feel she is still in a dream.

In all the exchange she realizes that he never looked anywhere other than her face. She remembers her state of dress being in just a night slip and underwear itself. When she fell, she is fairly certain she showed more than she wanted. Zhongli’s concern was far from focusing on the bits of revealed skin, he was too fixated on the joy in her face to have noticed.

Aserla tugs the covers of the bed down to get into the bed itself, her heart pounding the entire time as she puts her feet under the sheets is when Zhongli returns to the room. A generous smile on his lips seeing her getting comfortable, he spent the last few minutes putting out lights and locking doors. He blows out the last lamp on the table on his side and gets into his side of the bed. His eyes are greeted to hers staring at him; she had tucked herself as close to the edge as she could making herself smaller than she is as her nerves make her tremble with anxiety. Did he expect her to do anything tonight, does he secretly want her to say no, so he doesn’t want to waste more time on her.

A million things run through her head, her thoughts being written on her face and Zhongli can see how unsure she is. He trusts to give her time; he does reach an arm across the bed to her. Aserla jumps a little from his arm being strewn out to her, and she looks from it to his face.

“You’ll fall off my dear. You can take up more room. I’m not going to bite you.” Aserla takes his hand, and he tugs her in more. She scoots closer to him, her heart racing as she is pulled to the middle of the bed. He remains on his end; gold eyes watch her in the dark and how she seems to relax being here now.

“What about you?” Aserla doesn’t remove her hand from his hold; she rubs her thumb along his wrist idly, subtle in her gesture. He returns this gesture in rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. She can’t see the smile that graces his lips at being offered to be closer to her. He takes her offer to move closer; enough for her to feel his heat at her legs under the sheets. He holds there, staying facing her and keeping hold of that hand she has given to him.

“Gladly be closer to you. Rest dear, tomorrow is going to be a full day.” His voice is like magic to her, when he says to rest, her eyes grow heavy and she truly feels tired and relaxed. Zhongli watches her eyes close; he can’t help the wider smile on his lips at seeing her slip into sleep still holding onto his hand in her lucid state. He doesn’t retrieve his hand, letting her hold onto it as she drifts off.

His own thoughts are full of the recent hours; replaying them through his head and focusing on how many times she has smiled genuinely at him instead of half smiles or sad ones. He focuses on the moment when they were outside the city, and she had the beautiful of smiles. He knew at that point that he will try to make it work with her when she says yes to him.

#Zhongli x fem!oc #Zhongli x self-insert #Invi's writings #Dragon and Phoenix story #zhongli #zhongli genshin impact

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flaringfoxsoul03 · 2 years ago

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Hi! Could I please have a twisted wonderland matchup?

My Name is Rachel, Im 18, and my pronouns are she/her. My zodiac sign is Taurus and Im a Gemini rising. I have brown hair that comes a few inches below my shoulders, brown eyes and freckles.

I’m a really optimistic person, and I try to help others as much as I can! I’m good at giving advice, and making people feel better. I’m also very charismatic and very outgoing! I love trying out new activities, But, I can get impatient easily and I tend to be stubborn. I’m very affectionate and I tend to make sure that everyone around me is feeling alright before making sure that I am. Basically, I’m like the mom friend.

I really enjoy fashion design. I love sewing and coming up with a new ideas of something I can make! I’m also really passionate about music. I’ve played piano since second grade, and it really helps me to express myself! Some of my other hobbies include baking, crocheting and shopping. My personal style is a kind of mix between softie and angelcore. I love clothes that are pink, ruffly or have some sort of lace on them. Some things I like include, pretty perfume bottles, flowers, and jewelry I have a huge sweet tooth, so I also really like desserts! I absolutely hate bugs.

Thank you so much!! <33

Girl you’re making this matchup very hard, you have so many boys who’d be such a good match for you! Hopefully you’ll enjoy who I pick for you~

——————————-

I match you with…

Vil Schoenheit!

——————————-

Honestly, this was a close draw! You would have fit very well with some of the boys I was thinking about, but Vil takes the whole cake and the sides! He may be seen as cruel and snide, but he’s hiding a whole other person waiting to meet you! I think his five million followers will either be raging with jealousy or cheering for your happily ever after, but I think you’d be basking in his presence because of how devoted to one another you guys are.

Have you ever been sucker punched a couple of directions before finally getting steadied on your feet for a few seconds, only to get sucker punched harder than the last couple of times? Yeah, that’s what happened to Vil every time he thought he knew you. No amount of research could have ever prepared him for you, his eventual significant other. Not that he knew that before he realized he fell for you and when he did? Oh boy, the poor soul fell oh so very hard. When he first saw you at the Opening Ceremony with that weasel thing, he just assumed you were a meek and timid person (I headcanon you were wearing the ceremonial robes over your initial set of clothing). Nope! You’re literally throwing a massive party (the remake of a very merry unbirthday) at the Heartstabyul dorms after Riddle’s Overblot and then an outside afterparty for all the dorms to join to play games and whatnot on the grass in front and around your dorm as he saw on numerous posts on Magicam that night. He definitely choked on his tea when he heard that you managed to come tied between Jamil and Trey in a baking competition of all things competition worthy. Thought you might dress pathetically since you came into this college with literally nothing? Nope! You’re wearing this dress on a day off from school and walking towards the Octavinelle dorms to spend time with Azul and the Tweels, only to barely see in your peripheral view that Vil nearly walked into a column with his face smashed with surprise and shock. He was saved by Rook walking right next to him and pulling him away from walking into the column with a slight exasperated and exhausted look. That was the cue for Rook and Epel to start playing matchmaker and force their Housewarden to realize his affections for you!

At first, both of you were baffled at each other’s existence, even after Vil’s Overblot, it was still slightly uncomfortable to be true to one another. This is where Epel steps up as matchmaker #1: Organize an event where they must meet and compete! Vil was unamused and often tried to get out of such “trivial and childish matters”, but here’s where Rook played matchmaker #2: Force Vil to participate and orchestrate scenarios where Vil interacts with you! This often turned out to be Rook threatening to start hunting down Vil for game instead of the Savannaclaw students and Vil giving into it because he doesn’t want to become the next target of Rook’s games. Eventually, we get to where we really want to be: A relationship with Vil!

Now, Vil loves your expertise in fashion. He often begs you to make it a reality with him being your model so give you the confidence he thinks you should have! You’re telling him this shirt can’t go anywhere? Darling, everyone will want this after he posts it on Magicam! He can even arrange it where the quality wouldn’t be diminished thanks to his connections in the fashion industry. But he respects your decision if you chose not to make your fashion mainstream, he knows how difficult it can be when you don’t want to fail your crowd but everything just feels so overwhelming and basically impossible

He feels so guilty when he can’t have any of your sweets at first when you first started making them for him. He’s so worried about watching his weight and figure that those sweets can’t account for his daily intake. That’s when you start researching desserts Rook has mentioned to you in passing that he could have during dieting. You literally bring Vil to tears when you present these to him. He never thought you’d go out of your way so he could still have your sweets even with a twist added to them that still follow his diet plan but solely your creation just for him. You really are an angel

Now speaking about Magicam, he really does like a fresh colors you throw in his face. The aesthetic bedroom you’ve always wanted to design and have? He’s playing the part of rich boyfriend because not only will it make you happy, but it could be a project he’d allow himself to spend time on to spend time with you. Worried about how much you’ll have to reimburse him for this? Don’t even think about that, most he’ll let you do for reimbursement is to make more of your sweets specifically designed for Vil to eat with you. Right now? He wants to put in the effort of turning the dorm into your dream bedroom with you, his beloved

Is the one thing you hate are insects? He doesn’t blame you, they carry so many diseases and make beautiful places sad in some cases and diminishing quality or they’re useful in potions. He’s invented a potion that you just have to let sit out in said room for the scent to drive any insects away. Don’t worry, he’s tested and has made a version the most potent and effective against the creepy crawlers that doesn’t give anyone else health side effects and smells quite nice. But it does need to be renewed every month for the potion to continue working and cannot, under any circumstances, be spilled from its glass container or allowed to be put on or inside of a student or idiot (Grim). It has acidic like qualities and can even cause chemical burns internally and externally depending on what the liquid has managed to touch. He’s still working on a perfect antidote, mostly because the one he has now causes diarrhea if taken orally for the next twenty-four hours or causes skin peeling around the inflicted area instead. It’s the only price to pay for when striving for a bug free zone

Is absolutely enthralled by your piano playing skills. He loves listening to your melodies, even helps him figure out what kind of mood you’re in. Even plays with you too as he has to be good in some department of instruments. Except he doesn’t ever share his videos of you playing together online, only you ever do. He treasures these moments more than he ever thought he would when he first decided he wasn’t the one to post those videos. It’s a very personal experience to him, he loves it in all sincerity and just totally mundane aspects of the relationship that he falls for you again and again, never getting tired of the feeling coming to surround him again as he’s enamored by your beauty

In the end, it’s like a Beauty and the Beast were embodied in you two around campus. The beauty showing the beast everything in a new dappled colored light, reigning the flames of passion and joy. Vil is very grateful that his Vice Housewarden and that rebelling first year forced him to admit to his feelings for you, he would’ve been miserable without you being the ray of sunshine he didn’t know he was even looking for

——————————-

And the follow ups are:

Trey Clover

And

Malleus Draconia

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that’s folks!

~Fox

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland vil #twisted wonderland vil schoenheit #twst vil #twst vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland matchups #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland trey clover #twisted wonderland trey #twst trey #twst trey clover #twisted wonderland malleus #twisted wonderland malleus draconia #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia

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synamartia · 9 months ago

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LET'S GOOOO~!

♡ As you lifted your dress to unhook your garter, Alastor asked you sheepishly, “Would your stockings and garter be uncomfortable to sleep in?” You opened your mouth to answer before you realized what he was actually asking you. Fingers stopping, you let them be.

Babyboy's got a fetishhhh~! 🎵 It's okay, I got a thing for stockings and garters too 😘

♡ His mouth was hungry, tongue reaching for yours. You tried to breathe through your nose but couldn’t find the timing. When he pulled away, your mouth still open, he let his nose rub at yours. “I want to spoil you.” His hand slid down your front, fingers making a line through the center of your torso before coming to rest below your belly button. It was more intimate than you thought he realized. His hand sat heavy. “We can do as little or as much as you’d like.”

GOD I FUCKING CAN'T WITH THIS MAN, WITH YOUR INTERPRETATION OF HIM HAZEL FUCK PLEASE SPOIL ME TOO PPLLLEEEAAASSSSEEEE-- 🫠

♡ He kissed where your jaw ended, breathing into your ear a husky, “I don’t want to cuddle. I want to make a new memory in my home.” In truth, he was desperate to feel you still wanted him. Despite what had happened.

Fuck please Hazel it's just the beginning and I'm already swimming 🥺❤️

♡ You knew exactly what you wanted to do. You felt him growing under you as you rubbed against him. Catching his bottom lip in your teeth you gently tugged.

Not gonna lie I was kinda wondering if he NEEDED a kill to get it up but this answered my question so 👌

♡ “Fellatio, Alastor.” You maintained eye contact, hips grinding as his golden brown eyes became wide, “Can I?”

PLEASE SAY YES PLEASE SAY YES PLEASE SAY--

♡ A gasp, he opened his mouth to say something about your unsurpassed ability to surprise him for the nth time, but his mouth had gone dry. He was sure you could feel him growing harder against the silk of your slip. He squeaked out an “Okay, yeah. Let’s try.”

*falls to knees* YEEEESSSSSS (btw I'm IN LOVE with your meek Al, it's just so CUTE UGGHHHHH oh what I wouldn't give to squeeze this man's head between my thighs ❤️❤️)

♡ His hand was riding your head as you bobbed on his cock. Tongue running along the underside, pressing up as you moved. A muscle twitched in his thigh which you found impossibly arousing. Every time you took him all the way into your mouth you couldn’t breathe and it only made you think of how deep he’d reached inside you before.

OKAY LOOK HAZEL YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF MY HEAD-- the thigh twitch, oh my fucking goooodddddd 💦💦

♡ A whimper, his dick bouncing up with a twitch and hitting your cheek, “Fuck.” He nodded, “I won’t last long when your mouth is so skilled verbally and physically, my dear.”

EEEIIIIEEEEE--

♡ When you rolled your tongue Alastor loudly moaned in earnest, he seemed caught off guard by the sensation and his own response. The sound made you whimper around him. You wanted to make him make more sounds. More glimpses of him enjoying himself without restraint.

I'm trying to think of more things to say but at this point your Al has reduced me to feet kicks and suppressed squeals and a MIGHTY NEED to choke on one right now jfc 🫠💦

♡ “My love… please,” he sounded like he was holding his breath, “Can I?” He felt insecure, he’d only entertained fellatio twice in his life and both times he found the sensations bordering disgusting and the aftermath humiliating. One partner dribbling his cum back onto his stomach, the other spitting it into his handkerchief. No one seemed happy with any part of it. But your mouth didn’t feel wrong. No part of you made him feel like a chore. Nothing about you ever made him feel put up with, instead in that moment he felt like you enjoyed him. He felt delicious in your mouth.

AND THEN YOU GO AND HIT ME WITH THIS PART??? OH MY GOD HAZEL--

♡ What a silly question. He was the one who pulled you into murder, who left you vulnerable to dangerous men, who hadn’t ever considered how loving someone like him could put you at risk of terrible heartbreak. You had never been too much, he was the one spilling out of his canvas and staining you.

Please just let me love this man I'll do anything 🥺

♡ A blush spread up from your chest. There wasn’t anything to say. He left no room for doubt with his purposeful request. Leaning back again he slid a hand between your thighs and into your underwear. “Oh, you really did enjoy yourself didn’t you?” He brought his shining fingertip to his mouth and let those love affected eyes take you in as he licked his digits clean.

PUH-LLLLEEEEAAAASSSSEEEE 🫠🫠🫠

♡ No one had ever doted so sweetly on him during sex, perhaps he never let them. The very notion briefly floated by of past lovers kissing at his neck and it just as briefly made his skin crawl. Though he deeply enjoyed kisses when everyone was dressed.

Oooooohhhh gotta love it when the thought of ex lovers ruin a moment. So glad he didn't let it though, yay~ ❤️

♡ Often times you closed your eyes during sex, not because it just felt so good, but because you didn’t know where to look that wasn’t terribly uncomfortable. But not now, your eyes were locked on Alastor’s, every time he bit his bottom lip and every furrowed brow sent tingles that rolled down your shoulders , slipped along your ribs and settled in your stomach.

Fuck meeeee-- how the hell are you able to create such a clear image? I can see ALL OF THIS play out when I close my eyes it's so vivid and just so, mmmmhhhhpphhh-- perfect~! 🤌💋

♡ “Could you cross your legs? At the ankle.” You reached around and made sure his still heavy balls were safely above his legs. Alastor did it without asking questions.

Oooohhh wait what's going on heeeerrreeee~? 🤔

♡ When you let a hand come forward and flick at your clit you had to sink down onto him, unable to keep your body up the same way. Shorter movements but a quicker pace to match your finger. Alastor tore his eyes from yours to watch your hand work, studying the way you moved so he could master pulling orgasms from you with his own.

OH my god Hazel please I'm begging you 🥴

♡ “I actually really hate touching you.” You laughed. Alastor placed his hand on your shoulder and you faked a gag, “Disgusting. So strong and yet soft. The worst.”

YOU HIT ME WITH ANOTHER REAL WORLD SCENARIO. AGAIN. 😭❤️ Wifey and I joke like this all the time with each other~

♡ He dropped the fake fork, “Thank God for that, catfish is disgusting.”

Yes, it is. Ugh. 🤢

♡ And then his eyes opened and it was bright in the room. He was on his side now, facing away from you. Alastor wondered if he was asleep still, but your breath behind him was evidence enough this wasn’t a nightmare. He was awake. He’d slept through the night without a terror or stressor plaguing him for the first time in, well, he couldn’t remember.

OH MY GOD-- After all that just now you hit me with a no nightmare trope???? Come ON HAZEL Now I KNOW you're trying to kill me, making my heart beat so fast hoLY SHIT--

♡ You jiggled the handles, looking past the hardwater stained glass to barely visible green beyond, “If you don’t unlock this door right now I will break in.”

*offers a sizable rock*

♡ You considered making a joke about your skills with rocks but thought better of it.

HA. HAHA. OH I LOVE IT~!

♡ “Sorry. It’s not my place to speak on.” You sighed and set your hands on the waist height table. His back must hurt, he was so much taller than the table, he must be bent over quite a bit when he worked. You couldn’t stop imagining him, tired and hunched.

NUH UH. NO. DON'T APOLOGIZE. Babyboy needs someone to take care of hiiiimmmm 😭❤️

♡ Alastor came to stand beside you, hands mirroring yours, “No, that’s exactly it. It’s become your place, hasn’t it? But I’m still acting like I’m alone.” You bit your tongue. “Yes we should have slept. I was tired. But, you did a lot recently. For me. Selflessly.”

YES. THANK YOU AL-- oh wait you're gettin' all sweet again lemme just 🤐

♡ You could have screamed in the best way, somehow feeling a spark in your lap, provide for you? Why did it sound like an act of service when he said it and not a threat to your autonomy?

IT. IS. LOVE. I have been screaming this at you from the very first paragraph! Mostly 'cause I knew from the get-go that this was a slow burn so I'm seeing fire where there's only sparks but STILL. IT'S THERE. But in all seriousness, this is what it's like when you feel those sparks. It's no longer about you as a single person, it's about your life together. I can go on an entire rant about it so I'mma cut myself off and just say this: I love how you're able to portray the fears of lost autonomy in a subtle way, and express the difference between that and all the exciting unknowns that come with finding your soul mate (that feels a little heavy handed for this point in the story but it's for lack of a better word/title).

♡ A deer in the headlights.

AHHH I LOVE THE PUN BABES~ ❤️

♡ “Al-,” it came out a squeak, you tried again, “I’m not either. Joking, that is.” His intense look was blinked away. “I need all the little things most. I can’t get them from anyone else. I don’t want them from anyone else. The tender kisses, the hand holding, cuddling. I’m terribly happy.” A tentative kiss to his nose, “But I need you tiptop. Sleeping, eating, human things like that. Let me help you balance things. I want to provide, too.”

It's just so beautiful

♡ He sighed, placing his hat on the empty chair beside him. His partner would be there if his partner was aware he was even doing this. But they had already written him off as obsessed with nothing, “Of course. Just finishing up some paperwork is all, miss. So, not a single enemy? I hear he had debts.”

OH SHIT. HE'S BACK. BRADY'S BACK. DETECTIVE SEXY IS HEEEEEERRRRREEEEE fuck what I wouldn't give to choke on his-

*syn.exe has stopped working*

A Doe in Fall (part 6)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦

Part 6 Learning

Another night in bed with Alastor, but one that doesn’t feel quite right. You’re both learning about each other still. Unfortunately, it seems you’re not alone in finding out new information.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, blowjob, riding, swallowing CUM, mostly sex honestly, greenhouse , discussions of murder and dead bodies, nervous smoking, a nervous Alastor, tenderness, plants」

The tag list is broken, it wont let me copy and paste them as actual tags so I am manually adding them 😭

Minors DNI 🦌 🚘

You reached for the chain of the ceiling fan light, Alastor removing his clothes except his boxers as it was still too warm for pajamas. He pulled your clean slip from the drawer before making sure the window was locked but the curtains open. The bed softly illuminated with moonlight.

Oh no. It felt strange. You would think this was a scene you’d seen before, perhaps in a photo beside the definition of home.

“Dear?” Alastor pulled back the blanket and sheet, “Everything alright?” You arm was still extended and holding the chain.

No. I’m too comfortable here already. I don’t feel like a guest.

“Come to bed.” He patted your side of the bed. You got changed, feeling him watching you.

“It’s nice to get undressed with an audience in a…boring way.” You huffed, the ache in your feet still with you.

As you lifted your dress to unhook your garter, Alastor asked you sheepishly, “Would your stockings and garter be uncomfortable to sleep in?” You opened your mouth to answer before you realized what he was actually asking you. Fingers stopping, you let them be.

“Not terribly, no.”

When you slid into the bed in your slip and garters you caught how he grinned at you and suddenly you felt so shy. He always made you feel like it was your first time alone with a man when he looked at you with that smile, with those sharp eyes. You felt naked, deeper than just clothes.

Alastor scooted closer to you, arms wrapping around your waist and dragging you to meet him in the middle. Kisses to the side of your face until you turned, lips captured. As his hand came to your neck, large palm resting on your upper chest, you willed your heart to calm down.

His mouth was hungry, tongue reaching for yours. You tried to breathe through your nose but couldn’t find the timing. When he pulled away, your mouth still open, he let his nose rub at yours. “I want to spoil you.” His hand slid down your front, fingers making a line through the center of your torso before coming to rest below your belly button. It was more intimate than you thought he realized. His hand sat heavy. “We can do as little or as much as you’d like.”

“Are you sure? I’m happy to cuddle in your fancy—,” you stretched your arms, “two person bed. Don’t worry about me.”

He kissed where your jaw ended, breathing into your ear a husky, “I don’t want to cuddle. I want to make a new memory in my home.” In truth, he was desperate to feel you still wanted him. Despite what had happened.

That was all you needed. Throwing your leg over him you straddled his lap. You reached down to make sure his soft member had room to grow. His hands came to your hips but you brought them to your face and leaned down to continue greedy kisses. Hips rolling forward against him, your little moans into his mouth earned you sighs in return.

You knew exactly what you wanted to do. You felt him growing under you as you rubbed against him. Catching his bottom lip in your teeth you gently tugged.

Leaning back, you took his hand and sucked one finger into your mouth. Pulling it out you added another, your teeth coming to rest well past his knuckles. A raspy groan coming from deep in his chest. Your hips kept rocking, tongue twirling as you slowly pulled him out of your mouth again. He fought the urge to say thank you.

“Fellatio, Alastor.” You maintained eye contact, hips grinding as his golden brown eyes became wide, “Can I?”

His cock was twitching against you, but you needed a verbal yes before giving it your full attention.

“I’m not a huge fan of feeling my release on my skin.” He was frowning. An honest to god frown like a bummed out child. You couldn’t help but find it cute. He was usually smirking so the frown felt like seeing the Easter bunny smoking. Just, so out of place.

“Well hun I wasn’t planning on giving it back to you.”

A gasp, he opened his mouth to say something about your unsurpassed ability to surprise him for the nth time, but his mouth had gone dry. He was sure you could feel him growing harder against the silk of your slip. He squeaked out an “Okay, yeah. Let’s try.”

You kissed his cheeks, feeling his blush heating your lips. Finally, you could be the one making a mess of the other. Moving down, you settled your own warm cheek in the crook where his thigh met his hip and let your hand lazily stroke him.

Dicks were remarkably ugly things, possibly done so animals would bury them every chance possible to avoid having to look at them. But Alastor’s cock was pretty. Tan and pink, long and slender with a slight curve up that seemed biologically strategic. It was a shame he didn’t show it off more, but that was none of your business.

“I missed you.” You cooed.

Alastor lifted his head from his pillow, he had been trying to not look at you because he already knew it would be too much. Sure enough, your barely lit face was looking at up from his lap. Eyes aglow with the dying summer moonlight and hand so tenderly touching him. What was he doing again?

Oh that’s right. You’d said something.

“Hmm?”

You kissed his tip, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

His head fell back down, making a noise that almost sounded like a word. Another peck of a kiss. Then a longer one. Your lips parted and his hands lightly gripped the sheets. Hot and wet, but a different version of wet heat you’d already allowed him to lose himself in. A firm palate and soft tongue running past his head and down his length.

For the life of him he couldn’t understand why you wanted to do this. The truth was you were already soaking through your panties, his little hip ruts and sharp inhales going straight to your core. You’d never wanted to please another person so much in your fucking life. Pornography made sense now, you’d pay to see photos of him spread out with a lusty face. But luckily your cost was minor, an express ticket to hell.

You took him down to the base before lifting your head again.

“I want you to make the pace.” You brought his hand to the back of your head. His normally sharp features now soft and squiggly. “Fast or slow, little bit or all of it, you can stop me entirely whenever you want.”

His hand was riding your head as you bobbed on his cock. Tongue running along the underside, pressing up as you moved. A muscle twitched in his thigh which you found impossibly arousing. Every time you took him all the way into your mouth you couldn’t breathe and it only made you think of how deep he’d reached inside you before.

Doting on his swollen head you licked his leaking precum from the slit. The look in your eyes promised to devour him as you sucked in your cheeks and made shallow moves, letting your hands slide down his shaft and balls. The weight of them in your hands had you twitching around nothing.

Alastor’s breath was rough and strained, but his moans soft. You released him with a pop.

“Alastor.”

His eyes were focused on the ceiling, fingers stroking mindlessly at your hair. “Yes?”

“Are you not comfortable with moving my head? You’re just petting me. We can stop or—?”

Alastor let his hand come down to your chin, thumb running over your bottom lip, “No, no I don’t want to stop,” the look in eyes made you believe that. “I don’t know how to set the pace. You just want me to move your head? I’m not used to this and my brain is completely empty. Tell me plainly what you want and I’ll do it.” It sounded like a plea, almost begging for you to give him instruction. Because he was. He was pleading for you to tell him how to make you happy in new ways. “I want to do it.”

Plainly? Okay. This was one area of life you could manage to be completely straight. “I want you,” you kissed the tip of his cock again, “to guide my head on and off your cock,” a kiss down his shaft followed by another, “until you come in my throat.” You kissed the dark hair around his base, taking a moment to enjoy the scent of his manhood. “I wanna do it at your speed.”

A whimper, his dick bouncing up with a twitch and hitting your cheek, “Fuck.” He nodded, “I won’t last long when your mouth is so skilled verbally and physically, my dear.”

You hummed as his hands guided you back down, was this still letting him take the lead? The lines were blurred of who was leading who. But that was fine, maybe two people could move forward in tandem.

It made your pussy clench with a need to be filled when he finally pressed your head all the way down. With some difficulty you kept your teeth from scratching him while hollowing your cheeks again.

Hands busy cupping and caressing his balls, you let him quicken his pace.

A pleasant surprise as his hips began to buck up with his increasingly strident groans. You moaned around his cock, taking quick breaths through your nose whenever you were pulled off before his thrusts and pushes choked you again. Your eyes were watering, glossy as you tried to focus on his face. Looking down and across his tightened stomach his eyes met yours. The way his mouth was open was one thing but the moan of your name as his eyes lolled back made you feel feral.

You shifted your hand to pumping his unsheathed length faster as he focused on his head hitting and sliding up the back of your tongue. You were confident he was almost at his peak. Seeing his eyes roll made you hungry to bring him to orgasm. The characteristic lost rhythm of his hips was a dead giveaway as much as the slowing of his hand bobbing your head that you were on the right track.

When you rolled your tongue Alastor loudly moaned in earnest, he seemed caught off guard by the sensation and his own response. The sound made you whimper around him. You wanted to make him make more sounds. More glimpses of him enjoying himself without restraint.

“My love… please,” he sounded like he was holding his breath, “Can I?” He felt insecure, he’d only entertained fellatio twice in his life and both times he found the sensations bordering disgusting and the aftermath humiliating. One partner dribbling his cum back onto his stomach, the other spitting it into his handkerchief. No one seemed happy with any part of it. But your mouth didn’t feel wrong. No part of you made him feel like a chore. Nothing about you ever made him feel put up with, instead in that moment he felt like you enjoyed him. He felt delicious in your mouth.

One hand on the back of your head pushing your head down onto him quicker as he was just at the cusp, the other where your jaw and ear met lifting you off him slightly slower to languish in the drag of your tongue over his cock.

You hummed an affirmative and braced yourself, a thick and salty shot of his release hitting the back of your throat with force. You took him down to the base again, swallowing around his head as much as his size allowed. He hissed, hips rising off the bed. You didn’t stop swallowing despite his whines and spasms, shoulders jerking up and off the pillows as he folded in over your head. The silence of the night interrupted by his overstimulated gasps spilling out around you.

Only when he stilled, body no longer twitching as he lied back down, did you let up.

He was almost scared to look at you. Flashes of a long forgotten face of disgust behind his eyes.

“Alastor?” Your voice was so sweet, more so than usual. He dared to look.

A smile that reached your eyes. No mask, no grimace, no disappointment.

“You okay, doll?” You took his left hand and kissed his palm before setting your cheek against it. “Was it too much? Uncomfortable?”

What a silly question. He was the one who pulled you into murder, who left you vulnerable to dangerous men, who hadn’t ever considered how loving someone like him could put you at risk of terrible heartbreak. You had never been too much, he was the one spilling out of his canvas and staining you.

“We don’t have to do that ever again, okay?” You kissed his hand again, misreading his face entirely. Odd, you were usually so keen to the finer details of his mood. But when it came to sex, to his preferences, you knew you were better left always giving him room to ask for more, not less. Never make him need to ask you to stop. Never push past an absolute certainty of comfort, or put him in a position where he felt obligated to continue.

You’d decided some time ago you’d close your legs for good if it meant sharing a blanket with him. Your list of needs were rearranged the moment he pushed you into that bathroom, not that had known at the time or that you’d admit it was so early in your meeting.

Alastor smiled, finally, “No, it wasn’t.” While it wasn’t his favorite way to spend his time, he didn’t hate it. He wanted to ask if he was okay, if he was obviously inexperienced or embarrassingly quick. His eyes did that thing again, flitting around your face like he was reading a difficult but intriguing book.

You moved your body up to rest flush against his chest with your own. Silk slip cool on his heated skin. “I am very grateful you let me indulge myself, but,” a kiss to his chest before smiling back at him, your feet kicking up and knocking the blanket off, “Don’t push yourself, baby.” Your finger traced little circles on his chest.

He sat up. Slightly caught off guard, you did too. From the shadows of his bed you couldn’t see it before, but as he kissed you in an almost frantic succession of lips crashing into yours you pulled away to look him in the eyes. Blown out pupils shining back at you again. He stole another kiss, you not noticing his hand coming to his lap.

“I want to go at your pace now.” When he attempted another kiss, a pleasure soaked sigh stopped him. Your eyes traveled to the busy hand between you both.

“You can ride me, I’ve been selfish these last few times.” his hand was stroking himself, trying to get as hard as he could without getting too close to cumming a second time.

Even in the dim light he could see your face clearly, partly why he didn’t remove his glasses yet. You looked genuinely concerned. His free hand’s index finger and thumb came out almost like an upside down finger gun, a promise, “I want to feel you come undone around me.” You hooked your index with his, thumbs touching. It almost made a heart. “You can use me as you need, I just want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

You’d accepted him but he wanted more. He wanted you to need him. He’d be happy with just a night of neediness, really. Just confirmation he could keep you happy.

A blush spread up from your chest. There wasn’t anything to say. He left no room for doubt with his purposeful request. Leaning back again he slid a hand between your thighs and into your underwear. “Oh, you really did enjoy yourself didn’t you?” He brought his shining fingertip to his mouth and let those love affected eyes take you in as he licked his digits clean.

Unkindly beautiful. He was upsettingly ethereal beneath you, skin a glow in a way that rivaled the sun’s own bloom. His soft hair uncharacteristically messy, glasses fallen just a bit down his nose. The usually confident and sure Alastor was demure and needy between your legs. You’d never seen him look like that, even the first time was a different sight.

How lucky you were to get to devour him twice in one evening. You lifted yourself up and kept your eyes glued to his face as you pulled aside your panties and filled yourself with him.

A moment of pause when you bottomed out, letting you both adjust. A confession of his own, “I’ve never let anyone on top before.”

You tightened around him, “You skipped straight to eating women out in bathrooms?”

A quick correction by him, “Not women. A Woman.”

You tightened again, knees riding up over his stomach. “Well, I hope you’ll trust me with every first.”

Fighting the urge to bruise your ass on his hips, you took a gentle pace at first, knowing he’d just orgasmed minutes before. He was still sensitive, evident from his hisses and jerky movements with every bounce. His mouth was hanging open again with already heavy and loud breaths, eyes glued to watching himself disappear into your cunt.

Leaning down, you switched to rolling your hips front and back and kissing at his clavicle. You worked up his neck, pausing to whisper an ask, “Does it hurt?” into the bruised skin of this throat. He said it was fine so you continued kisses up and then along his jaw. When his mouth reached for yours you dodged and kissed his nose. Another whiny whimper, hands rubbing down your hips and running over the place your skin met your stockings. His fingers ran up the straps of garters and back down again.

You kissed his cheeks, then the corner of his mouth. He looked at you like you were hurting him, like it pained him to not have your mouth on his. A moan pulled his expression from torture to ecstasy.

Alastor felt good, his ego unfurling in his chest with the sight of your pleasure. It was as if he were being worshiped and in worship of you at the same time. Your kisses were an offering, his moans a prayer.

No one had ever doted so sweetly on him during sex, perhaps he never let them. The very notion briefly floated by of past lovers kissing at his neck and it just as briefly made his skin crawl. Though he deeply enjoyed kisses when everyone was dressed.

Much like small beds, affection was made comfortable by your presence. He wanted to be possessed by you. He felt he would be stronger somehow if he was wholly yours.

Resting your forehead on his in the most loving act you’d ever offered a man during sex, you used his shoulders as a sturdy support to resume riding him in earnest. A workout you actually enjoyed, lifting your weight off of him and making a controlled descent to impale yourself again and again on his heated member. His swollen tip was sliding past your g-spot but it wasn’t hitting it as hard as you needed. But before you could move, you felt Alastor bring his arms up.

He used his hands like you’d taught him and grabbed the back of your head to bring you into a kiss. Lips on lips, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth.

You broke the kiss to sit back up, giving your thighs a burn as you tried to create enough friction to build up your orgasm.

Often times you closed your eyes during sex, not because it just felt so good, but because you didn’t know where to look that wasn’t terribly uncomfortable. But not now, your eyes were locked on Alastor’s, every time he bit his bottom lip and every furrowed brow sent tingles that rolled down your shoulders , slipped along your ribs and settled in your stomach.

You didn’t want to blink and risk missing a single reaction. The soft slap of your ass on his lap became more obscene as you got wetter. Slippery was the best word for it, Alastor trying to compare your mouth to the feeling of your twitching cunt. As you moaned his name and clenched around him, he knew he liked this more. Your mouth was free to make pretty noises for him. Sounds that made him twitch in you.

How you could be so soft and yet gripping him so tightly he couldn’t understand. He began to realize how little he understood about any of it. Normally not actually paying attention this much during sex, but he let deeper thoughts go and just focused on the way you looked riding him.

A moment shared between you both as your eyes caught again; static shock without the contact.

“Could you cross your legs? At the ankle.” You reached around and made sure his still heavy balls were safely above his legs. Alastor did it without asking questions.

You needed a new angle, but there was no way in hell you’d turn around. Leaning back with both hands on his thighs, you could angle his cock head to graze that bundle of nerves his hands worked so well in the past. Heavy breaths morphed into deep moans as you worked him into that spot repeatedly.

When you let a hand come forward and flick at your clit you had to sink down onto him, unable to keep your body up the same way. Shorter movements but a quicker pace to match your finger. Alastor tore his eyes from yours to watch your hand work, studying the way you moved so he could master pulling orgasms from you with his own.

Quiet, so softly you gasped and mewled as you quickly raised the tension in your lower belly. No more lifting, no energy or focus to offer, just grinding against him until you felt that snap of pressure and your muscles rolled around his cock. Alastor was quick to watch your face as he recognized the spasms making his thighs twitch again.

As your orgasm waned, the pleasure dying, you felt a clarity you couldn’t before. You looked down over Alastor, and found yourself worried. A small sense of dissatisfaction. You couldn’t put your finger on it so you let it go. Learning about Alastor carnally would take time, and you needed to allow that to happen naturally.

He was the one who suggested it, but it didn’t feel as satisfying as before. Even with his orgasm, you felt like you’d gotten more from the interaction. And you weren’t sure what that something was or what that meant. The feeling in the air the first time wasn’t there now, and you weren’t sure why. You planted a kiss on his lips, trying to feel if anything was missing. His lips moved against yours and his hands rubbed at your thighs. He felt just like Alastor.

“Feel good, my dear?” He didn’t open his eyes, instead kissing you before you could reply. You hummed into his mouth.

“I feel good anytime I’m near you.”

The right answer.

His smile widened, “That’s all I want.”

With a deep sigh, you unseated yourself and lied back in your spot. Your slip was sticking to your skin in various places from sweat, it was uncomfortable but you were too tired to even ask him about showering. He took off his glasses and rolled to face you so you rolled too.

Lying there and looking at each other, Alastor’s eyes adjusted to the shadows to see your face. “I feel like…women often over-act during sex. You don’t though. Or you’re a great actress.”

You nodded, “Yeah I can see that. I definitely have. Also I’m a performer, professionally.”

A nervous smile spread on his face.

“I actually really hate touching you.” You laughed. Alastor placed his hand on your shoulder and you faked a gag, “Disgusting. So strong and yet soft. The worst.”

“Unfunny.” Alastor quoted you.

“No, I don’t do that with you.” Your hand touched at his, “Lots of other people though. I guess we feel like we have to make the guy feel like he’s doing well.” You hadn’t thought before speaking and suddenly worried you’d said something unattractive. There was a relaxation to the way you were talking with him that reminded you of being backstage at the theater.

“I have definitely been on the receiving end of that.” Alastor grimaced, “Feels like making someone a meal you don’t even like, just for them to pretend to eat it and hum loudly with every fake bite. Why push for sex and then just pretend.” Alastor mimed bringing a utensil to your mouth, “Here’s that fried catfish you love darling.”

“Lostsa reasons. And I hate catfish.”

He dropped the fake fork, “Thank God for that, catfish is disgusting.”

Chewing on your bottom lip you just jumped into the fear, “Did it bother you, when I said ‘lots of people’ just now?”

“Why would it?”

You reached out and touched his cheek, “Just checking. Tell me about your day. If I fall asleep it’s a compliment to your voice and not an insult.”

It had been a boring day, save for his worry about you seeing his home. He rambled about work as boringly as he could until he heard the soft and deep breathing of a sleeper. And then he told you about how he cleaned, and changed the bedding, about how he swept the porch and stared into his fridge.

When he ran out of details, he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. The sound of your breathing was a new noise for his room. It was nice. His hand slid under the sheet until it found one of yours. It didn’t take long for his mind to settle and for him to fall asleep.

And then his eyes opened and it was bright in the room. He was on his side now, facing away from you. Alastor wondered if he was asleep still, but your breath behind him was evidence enough this wasn’t a nightmare. He was awake. He’d slept through the night without a terror or stressor plaguing him for the first time in, well, he couldn’t remember.

But the torment waited for him to awaken, a tinge of embarrassment washing over him from head to toe like a chill. Had he asked you to ride him? To use him? What the fuck was wrong with him? He was mortified, pulling the pillow over his face. He hadn’t even been drunk. He sounded like some horny teenager desperate to be touched. Not at all what he had been hoping to convey.

He managed to hide it well enough, through breakfast and to the patio where he could finally put his attention fully on something else.

“This is where I bring the bodies.” Alastor walked you to greenhouse doors. “There’s no one in there now. But,” he cleared his throat, “You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to. I’ll never have you help with this part.”

You looked at each other, his eyes taking in the places where you’d been bruised before. Bruises he could still see in his head. Your eyes staring at the blooming purples of his neck. You hadn’t seen them before, his normal collar hiding them well enough. But he wasn’t headed to work yet, so you got see him in a clean white t-shirt tucked into his usual pants. Only he could make that look like a state of undress.

You jiggled the handles, looking past the hardwater stained glass to barely visible green beyond, “If you don’t unlock this door right now I will break in.”

Alastor laughed, pulling the key he’d grabbed earlier from his pocket.

You considered making a joke about your skills with rocks but thought better of it.

When the doors opened, you were surprised to see plants.

Not because they were in there, but that it was all you saw. Alastor walked past you and to the left, “Most people naturally turn right when they enter a room. Buys me a little time just in case someone comes in.” You followed him past long and tall shelves of various potted plants and flowers.

“And most people would consider a shed more suspicious than an all glass greenhouse. Nothing nefarious about glass. The plants help obscure the sights and the hard water takes care of the view from ground level.” He pointed up and over to the house, “You can see it perfectly well from the second floor.”

“Aren’t you worried about neighbors?” He turned right to step through some plants then stopped in front of a large metal table.

“Nearest neighbors are at least several acres away on all sides, we don’t interact.” His finger slid across the clean and shining surface, “Dismember, drain, back in the car to then disappear them far away from here.”

Your short heel sank down into the dirt, a memory of Tommy at better times taking your attention away from where you placed your weight.

“The ground soaks up the water and blood. Bugs take what I miss. And it stays pretty warm even in winter, so the ground stays soft.”

Morbid. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t morbid as your eyes sank to the soil beneath your feet. Turning around you looked for anything out of place. You saw gardening supplies like shears, axes, hand saws, tarps. Plants everywhere, pretty flowers and small trees. It was a very full but very normal greenhouse. Approaching the table you lowered yourself to look underneath. Empty clay pots, bags of dirt, seeds. Clean and dry.

“It looks like a functional greenhouse.”

“Exactly.”

“No I mean— it, not a single trace of,” you searched for a good word, “impropriety.” You’d heard that shouted at you before. “Even the plants are cared for. How much time do you spend keeping this room perfect? When do you sleep?”

His head tilted, “I don’t sleep much. So, I have time. The long nights are just the ones when I have someone in here.”

“I promise my praise is coming but first — Alastor.” You stood, “Ya know you could have just slept last night. Like, a full night's sleep. We didn’t have to stay up. That’s two nights already you barely slept. On top of…years? Of this?”

A suddenly nervous energy, Alastor’s hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked away. Oh no, that was a first you hadn’t considered.

Had you been too harsh? Sounded too much like nagging wife? You felt like one.

“Sorry. It’s not my place to speak on.” You sighed and set your hands on the waist height table. His back must hurt, he was so much taller than the table, he must be bent over quite a bit when he worked. You couldn’t stop imagining him, tired and hunched.

Alastor came to stand beside you, hands mirroring yours, “No, that’s exactly it. It’s become your place, hasn’t it? But I’m still acting like I’m alone.” You bit your tongue. “Yes we should have slept. I was tired. But, you did a lot recently. For me. Selflessly.”

Ah. His fingers on his left hand intertwined with your right, eyes searching for something in the scratched grey blue of the workspace.

“I want to provide for all your needs.”

A tinge of fear again ran through him. He needed you to need him. So you wouldn’t leave. He wanted you to see how he could give you everything.

You could have screamed in the best way, somehow feeling a spark in your lap, provide for you? Why did it sound like an act of service when he said it and not a threat to your autonomy?

“You’re already giving me so many things I need. Phone calls in the morning and kisses after work. Respect for my job and myself as a human, not just a woman. Your voice when I’m falling asleep,” you cleared your throat now, too saccharine of a speech already, “Someone to lick the blood off my face. An alibi. That kinda stuff. Ya know?”

“I’m not joking.”

The muscles in your back locked. You gripped his hand, you could feel him staring at the side of your face but didn’t want to see what expression he had. Unfortunately he knew you too well already.

“Look at me.”

Your natural reaction to being given an order was to do the opposite. But you couldn’t muster the petulance. You finally turned to look back at him.

He’d never looked so serious. Eyes brighter in the sun than you’d remembered them being bore into yours. Locked, you were frozen in his stare.

A deer in the headlights.

He wasn’t studying your face this time, he was staring into. Not through you, no, you could feel his gaze being soaked into the back of your skull.

“I’m learning. Be patient with me? And you can tell me when I’m fucking up. I want it be our places in each other’s lives.”

“Al-,” it came out a squeak, you tried again, “I’m not either. Joking, that is.” His intense look was blinked away. “I need all the little things most. I can’t get them from anyone else. I don’t want them from anyone else. The tender kisses, the hand holding, cuddling. I’m terribly happy.” A tentative kiss to his nose, “But I need you tiptop. Sleeping, eating, human things like that. Let me help you balance things. I want to provide, too.”

Arms snaked around your waist, forehead to forehead, his smile grew, small but still a welcomed sight as always, “Can I have that praise you mentioned earlier now?”

You nodded, listing all the brilliant ways he protected himself from detection. A long form good boy.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Across the parish and downtown, a nervous woman fidgeted in a worn wooden chair. She had been woken up by a loud knock at her door when she was still sleeping off her late night.

“I thought this was all done with. Did you really need to drag me down here? Not a big fan of flat foots. You understand.”

He sighed, placing his hat on the empty chair beside him. His partner would be there if his partner was aware he was even doing this. But they had already written him off as obsessed with nothing, “Of course. Just finishing up some paperwork is all, miss. So, not a single enemy? I hear he had debts.”

“Well I mean,” her high pitched voice somehow creeped up into even higher an octave with her nerves, “We all had guesses but, no, never seen him fight with anyone except a dancer here and there. Mean right hook, that guy. I’m glad he’s gone. I hope he’s dead.”

He perked up, “He hit on ya’ll?”

“Once in a blue moon. But he really let Autumn have it before he up and left. Never seen him that mad before. She was bruised up for like a week after.” She ashed her cigarette in the bowl on the table between them, “He wasn’t normally like that. Just when girls refused dates. And Autumn really wasn’t playing along, if ya know what I mean.”

Detective Brady leaned over the interrogation table, “What dates?”

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @phobophobular , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl , (50)

#human alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor #alastor #fanfiction #alastor x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #synamartia #syn speaks #syn's live reacts

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haddonfieldwhore · 2 years ago

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nightmare - chad meeks-martin

❤️🔪 no spoilers for scream 6 🔪❤️

warnings: angst, reader has a nightmare, ptsd?, mentions of death / almost dying, scream 5 spoilers, mentions of scars (not sh)

racing through the kitchen, you reached the patio door and hurried outside, running through the large, unfamiliar backyard before you stopped; chad was still inside. you couldn’t leave him behind, so you turned back and ran towards the door. as you pulled on the handle of the sliding glass door, you realized to your horror that it was locked. it was dark inside the house, and you peered through the glass, trying to see anything.

the lights flickered on, revealing ghostface standing at the other end of the room by the light switch. you screamed, backing away from the door slightly. just as you saw chad coming down the hallway, unable to see the killer around the corner, the light went out again. the music inside the house was loud enough to drown out you cries, screaming at the top of your lungs for chad to look out- that the killer was right there. the room stayed pitch black for a moment before the lights flickered back on to reveal the killer stood back by the light switch- wiping blood of their knife.

your eyes landed on chad, who lay on the floor, bleeding from what looked like a dozen stab wounds, and you screamed louder. tears streamed down your face as you punched and kicked the glass door trying to get to him, before you felt someone….grab your arms?

“hey, hey you’re okay, i’m here. wake up,” your eyes opened at the sound of chads voice, and you realized you had been dreaming. you were not in a backyard, you were in your bed, and chad was hovering over you, pinning your arms to your chest. “baby, you’re okay. was it another nightmare?” he asked, noticing the tears on your face. you broke down crying as you nodded, and he laid down next you, pulling you into his chest. his arms held you close to him as you cried.

“you.. you di- died,” you stuttered, hiccupping as your sobs caught in your throat, your tears leaving a wet mark on chads t-shirt.

“i’m right here, i’m okay.”

“you almost weren’t though,” you said, thinking back to how you had almost lost chad back in woodsboro; in fact you had both almost died. you had been stabbed in the back, and if the knife had gone an inch deeper, the doctors said it would’ve killed you. it had been 2 months since you graduated high school and moved out to new york for both you and chad to go to college with mindy, sam and tara, even sharing an apartment with the two sisters.

the events of those three days had brought the five of you closer than ever before. they had also left you with haunting nightmares, waking you up in the middle of the night at least once a week.

“i know. i know, baby.” he shushed you, kissing the top of your head. he was silent for a moment, before he spoke again. “it’s my fault you got hurt, i’m so sorry.” he mumbled, and you looked up at him in disbelief.

“don’t you dare say that, chad,” you said sternly. his brown eyes looked into yours.

“if you weren’t with me, you wouldn’t have been a target,” he said, his hand sliding under your shirt to let his fingers gently trace the scar on you back that the knife had left behind.

“stop,” you shook your head. “just because you knew amber first doesn’t mean it’s your fault she stabbed me; half the school was at that party, okay?” you asked, looking into his eyes as your gently held the side of his face.

“okay,” he sighed, leaning into your touch. you leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lips, before you settled back into his arms, your head on his chest. “you were kicking and punching like crazy- who were you fighting?” he asked playfully.

“a sliding glass door-“ you admitted.

“oh yeah? were you winning?” he teased. you appreciated that no matter the circumstances chad was always able to make you laugh, and you smiled, playfully hitting his chest. your smile dropped as you spoke again.

“no; i couldn’t get to you in time.” you admitted, and he squeezed you tighter. “i can’t lose you chad.” you slid you hand under his shirt to feel the scars on his abdomen where he had been stabbed 7 times. it was a miracle that he had survived. he shivered slightly at the feeling of your cold fingertips on his skin, but relaxed soon after.

“i’m not going anywhere, i promise.” chad replied, serious again. “you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon. we’re a team, remember?” you sighed in response, relaxing into his embrace.

“i love you,” you hummed.

“i love you more.” he challenged, kissing you gently. you smiled sleepily, feeling safe in his embrace as you drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

#chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks headcanons #chad meeks #chad meeks martin headcanons #chad meeks martin #chad meeks fic #chad meeks fanfiction #chad meeks martin fic #chad meeks martin fanfiction #chad meeks imagine #chad meeks martin imagine #mason gooding #scream #scream 5 #scream 6

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mirisan · 2 years ago

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Coffee and some miracles

COMING SOON (This is a small part from the middle of the fic )

pairing : hyunjin x female reader

genre : you know all that cute stuff. classic bumping. strangers to lovers.

summary : ( I suck at summaries, sorry) so, y/n is an art student in paris, and on one fine mundane day she bumps into hyunjin. And the silly boy ends up spilling all his iced coffee over her art assignment. But the problem is, she only has today to submit her artwork. The clock's ticking and now only hyunjin can help her. (can't tell you everything, this is just a teaser :)

The soft scratching sound of charcoal against the paper filled your ears, diminishing all the chatter of the customers and the sizzling of coffee machines around you. Despite the flukes of today’s morning and all the jitters it caused, you felt oddly okay now. You wondered what kept you going? Was it your dearest devotion towards handing in all your artwork by the evening? Or was it the sweet stranger in front of you who had become your muse this noon? Either way, you were bound and determined to complete this last piece for the exhibition.

The latte cups were half empty, and the brown crumbs of banana bread shined on the creme-colored coffee table. The sketch was going well and you had to add the details next. But before that, your aching hand needed a few minutes to rest. So, you set the wooden cardboard aside, wiped the excess black dust from your fingers with a rag, and stretched out your arms widely. You looked towards your model to initiate yet another banter but to your surprise found him to be already reading some poetry on your face. And you being you, decided to read an epic.

How do I tell him? You thought to yourself. That his eyes reminded you of a warm sun on a cold winter’s evening. That his crimson lips looked eager to leave a kiss on some lover’s note. That his hands could make you know solace just by a single touch. That his presence made you think of those soft innocent crushes that remain unconfessed but never forgotten. You could continue with the praises but you realized the staring had gone for too long now. And a shy smile had taken over the boy’s face. He had put his palms above his eyes in a silly attempt to hide the meekness.

“Look at me, Hyunjin,” you spoke softly but in such haste that it almost seemed desperate.

To that, he broke out into a small giggle. “I know what you are doing,” he declared as he uncovered his eyes.

“And what could that be?” You questioned with raised eyebrows and a teasing smile.

“You are looking at me as if....” He reached out for your hand across the table.

“As if?”

“As if you have known me forever"

To be continued.

a/n : I hope you liked this! It's actually my first time writing a fic or literally anything so I am a bit nervous. So, I would love to hear your thoughts!

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ohheyitsokay · 4 years ago

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out or in

this takes place in my ‘poly frontier’ universe

pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco “Catfish” Morales, Ben “Benny” Miller and a female reader

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: all fics in this series are 18+, poly relationship domestic, romantic, and sexual intimacy. strong language, both implications of sex and brief explicit sexual content, mostly fluff

summary: a collection of moments about always choosing the ones we love

It’s a romantic little outing – a walk to the park, flowers tucked behind ears, a gazebo by the pond. Santiago looks good with flowers in his curls, and they stick well. He’s got that look in his eyes, the one that says he thinks of the two of you hung the stars, and his broad shoulders look void of weight in the evening sun.

Will can’t keep his hands off of you, which is strange, but not unwelcome. He keeps running his hand through your hair or pulling you into sudden hugs, and it makes Santi smile.

The three of you are waiting for Frankie and Ben to come, settling into the white benches and enjoying the dappled lighting that sways with the vines overhead. Your Ironhead practically pulls you into his lap as your other lover goes in search of ducklings. Watching him, Will kisses your temple, your cheek, the side of your neck.

You close your eyes, just for a moment. It’s mandatory, really, because these moments are few and far between. Soft noises from the nature around you, smells of flowers and the musk of your lover, and most of all, his open affection. When was the last time his confidence overrode his calculating brain?

When you open them again, a woman is walking by, chattering on her phone, and her heels slow when she catches sight of Santi.

The pillars of the gazebo shroud you from her, and Will holds you tight as you watch her hang up, a twitch in her hips. You miss her greeting, but not the way Santi turns towards her, his face polite and neutral.

“I’m just here with them,” he waves and points, and you see an incorrect realization on her face as she glances shrewdly. The two of you are wrapped up in each other, his hands wandering even still – she thinks she knows.

“So you’re the third wheel?” the woman all but purrs, eyes fluttering in a way that makes you roll your own. So fixed is she on the warm tone of his skin and the stubble across his jaw, that she misses both the darkness of his eyes, and approaching footsteps.

“Not at all,” his words are simple and you grin.

“Like hell you aren’t,” Benny says, slipping an arm around his Pope. They came up less than quietly, watching without your patient interest. Will huff’s a laugh, almost proud at the kiss and raised eyebrow his brother gives the woman, who’s stepping back, suddenly uncertain.

She turns to Frankie, mistakes his soft edges for vulnerability, and changes targets. Hes handsome as a warm fall walk, and she drinks him in. All shy backtracking and twirls of hair, she reaches for his arm, playing all the right cards for sympathy.

But his eyes, deep and brown are unwavering as he shifts away. You see his mouth move – a quiet nope, with a p that pops, and the both you and Ironhead shake with silent laughter.

No one explains as she sputters and spins, trying helplessly to say have a good day, and as she near runs away and you feel a little guilty.

Mostly, though, you feel lucky as you see your eager boys making their way over and loved as they’re already reaching for you.

“That was fun,” Will pulls Frankie close to replace your warmth. Arms around Santi's neck you laugh again, feeling matching rumbles at your front and back.

“We should go out more often,” Benny says, resting his chin atop your head. You can hear the mirth in his voice, but of all of them, he thrives in awkwardness the best.

“Great idea, Ben.” Frankie doesn’t even have to roll his eyes.

“It’s fun confusing people,” the blonde defends, pulling back to flap a hand. Of course he thinks so, and of course Catfish disagrees.

“As long as the people who aren’t confused are us,” Will catches Santi's eye, and you feel him rumble again, squeezing you.

“I agree.”

Will walks in to see you completely on top of Frankie, sleeping against his chest. It’s a welcome sight, after a long, long week, and his layers shed as Frankie beams at him. The smile is void of gloating or even teasing, filled only with a hard earned joy. He loves the moments you crash into him, drawing out the weight on his mind and replacing it with you.

“That seems a little selfish,” his watcher teases, his deep, dry voice making you stir a little.

Frankie pulls an understanding face and shifts, letting you slide between him and the back of the couch, opening up for the other man. Your eye peaks open long enough to see Will’s smile, before you feel him, warm and close.

He’s taller, but it’s a practiced fit, and the couch was bought specifically for all of their width and height.

The man beneath you let’s out a groaning breath, like the weight of one of his loves hadn’t been quite enough. Silence fills the air, thick and warm as cocoa on a chilly evening, the three of you taking slow, indulgent sips. Hands rub shoulders and slide over unwinding muscles before they still, thankful for the heartbeats just beneath the surface.

And then the moment slides away, as Frankie remembers a story from work – his excitement is contagious. His deep eyes are bright, the lilt of his voice exaggerated by the animation that fills him head to toe, and you climb over them to find a glass of water. You'd already heard the story, and you need to wake up for the evening.

Santi’s in the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket, and hes pulling you by the hip into his arms. His skin is cool from their air outside, and he seeks your warmth with playful pleading, rubbing his nose along your cheek, your neck, and blowing puffs into your hair. The squeaks you make only spur him, happy kisses following the pre-made path, and he laughs, really laughs, for no real reason.

“Come,” he says, after finding your lips once more, “it’s almost time.” And you wake fully, checking the clock. He’s right, and both of you rush back to the others.

Ben’s fight is on the screen, and your boys are sitting, telling you for the thousandth time how rude it is that they cut off spectators.

“I know, I know,” you shush Will with your mouth, a chaste, chiding kiss, and he softens, pulling you back down. The sleepy satisfaction is long gone, dissipated by his talk with Frankie, and their inevitable excitement as they traded bits of wisdom. Now, it’s time to watch his brother, and to feel the bones in your hand creak as Frankie winces at every punch.

The fight is a short one, and you’re almost glad you didn’t drive an hour for it – your sweet Benny hardly gives the other guy a chance. He blows a kiss at the camera, and Santi says, “Mine,” before sticking his tongue out.

“How do you know?” Frankie protests, reaching over to smack him.

“Hush, he’ll call in just a minute,” you scold, snipping a budding argument, and rolling your eyes. “You can ask him then, if you want.”

You were right – and he called you, probably well aware of the bickering he caused. Speakerphone is mandatory, as deep voices shout their approval.

“The kiss was for all of you,” he says. “Minus Will.” He rolls his eyes, as Frankie makes a triumphant noise.

Over the responsive banter you change the topic.

“How soon will you be home?”

“Why baby, the whole crew there, and you still miss me?” Tonight’s win had gone straight to his head.

Will appears behind you, rumbling, his hand sliding up you shirt in a single, fluid motion.

“Watch yourself,” he said, loud enough for the phone to catch it. “I’d say we’re doing just-"

“- Fine,” the others catch his drift, lowered eyelids and knowing smirks making their way around. Just as fluid, Frankie pulls at you, settling your core over his thigh, his dark eyes asking for permission. Denying him is unfathomable – their touches already perfectly placed and hot.

The gasp leaves your lips before you even think to stop it.

“Fuck,” Benny’s voice is lower, even through the phone. “Don’t you dare!” The command falls flat, his damage done. Bra shoved away, Will rolls a nipple between his fingers as Santi’s hand palms you through the fabric as best he can, always eager to join the torture.

“Hurry up then,” he adds, watching you grind and melt beneath them, knowing the other man is already regretting his words.

“No fair!” you hear the slam of his locker and grin, already too far gone to stop their antics.

Frankie coaxes you off his thigh, hands busy as he began to rid your of your clothes. You’re slick with want, holding whatever you can brace yourself against, as they lovingly remind him what he’s missing.

“Would you rather we let you listen, hot shot?” it’s both a taunt and an offer, and you see wide eyes and feel eager twitches.

There was a moment of silence, before Benny’s curse cracks into the air, needy and nearly breathless.

And you’re suddenly glad you got a nap in earlier. If the last five minutes are any indication, it’s going to be a long night.

“No, but thanks for checking again,” you say, trying not to sound sarcastic. Benny is using his best puppy eyes, even pulling down the thick scarf his mama gave him to pout at you.

“But I made us the coolest fort, you said so yourself!”

“My love, it’s cold.” You respond, kissing his surprisingly warm cheek. “The others have already tried.”

You wave at Will over his shoulder as he packs yet another snowball for their war. A hit to the back of the head is a fitting distraction, and Ben kisses you quickly before he runs off to his corner of the yard.

And as much fun as it could be to watch, you close the door to the freezing air, knowing if you don’t, the next one will be coming for you.

You end up by the window, catching glimpses through the thick white frost, as you Google new winter recipes. And you’re thoroughly wrapped up in a distraction when a hand slips into yours

“Oh, hello,” you grab at it, trying to warm the fingers between your palms. “Too cold for Catfish?”

He nods, sighing as you try to thaw him.

“Come,” you say, leading him to the kitchen. He’s like a bear, lumbering after you, thickened with winter layers, but with meek obedience and eyes filled with adoration.

“Cocoa, love?” it’s hardly a question.

“Please, Frankie?” He kisses you in confirmation, seemingly growing even lager as he glows with pride. No recipe you’ve ever found gets the spices as perfect as he can, and it’s his joy to brew if for you all.

Before, though he turns the kettle on, heating water for the bottles, knowing any moment what will happen. And he’s never wrong. The door opens with a gust of chill wind, making snowflakes cling to their winter beards.

Just as the hot water bags are filled, and the rest finds its way into a footpan, Santi trudges through the door, huffing with laughter but with spikes of pain shooting from his knees. You help him settle into cushions, resting his joints, as Will and Benny tumble in, shedding soaking layers and telling you the final battle.

Passing out steaming mugs you kiss their cheeks and they know the truth – adventures should be taken and fun should be had, but nowhere was better than right here with you.

It happens rarely: waking up perfectly encompassed by your loves. Someone’s elbow was always poking or beard would tickle, and the first to wake would inevitably wiggle and jostle limbs.

But when it does, it’s bliss.

Your tucked into Will’s side – his beard is soft and smells like books and clean linens and the way it feels when rain pours down after weeks of drought.

Frankie is behind him, pressing close, and Santi is near a second skin, he’s sandwiched you so tightly. You can the shape of Benny beyond Frankie's fluff of hair, and for once, you don’t feel the need to move. Deep breathes a contented mid-dream murmurs push away the reminder that one of you must leave – a least for long moments.

But then you notice the pace of the heart beneath your hand, and prepare yourself for the rub of his jaw along his temple. Your Will would never risk the movement of kissing you before he knew you were awake.

“Good morning,” your voice is barely audible, just for him.

“I love you,” his response is just as quiet, but equally filled with love.

Neither of you says anything else, just shifting ever-so-slightly to kiss each other, unable to resist. Then you settle again, cherishing the squeezes and pacified rumbles, and dreaming of drifting off again.

You know he won’t - can’t, with a stupid Saturday meeting on it’s way, but you wish he would. All of you hate when he’s robbed like this, hate that he has to count down the minutes and then untangle himself and climb away. Feeling his heart race pick up again, you know he’s anxious. It goes against his nature to disturb, to break a perfect moment.

“Stop thinking so loud.” Benny groans, quiet, but not quite so in-control. “Here.”

He flops, pawing the end table before finding Will’s phone and tossing it to him, before settling forward against Frankie again. The whole time his eyes barely opened more than a hair, awake exclusively for the greater good.

A small, conflicted noise grumbles in Will’s throat, but then, to your amazement, he frees a hand and begins to draft an excuse.

“Tell them it could be an email,” Santi’s voice is thick with sleep.

“Because it could be,” Frankie adds, reaching for the phone. His eyes are puffy, wincing at the brightness, but if Will doesn’t call off the meeting, someone has to. Huffing, the man beneath you snatches it back, making incomprehensible comments about how he’s the only one who knows what to say.

You shift to kiss him again, shocked in spite of yourself. All this time, he’s never called in sick, no matter how deeply he’s been tempted. But more proud than anything.

It’s a perfect morning – too good to spoil. He sends it and tosses his phone, satisfied sighs and sleepy high fives making him chuckle. And you pull the blankets back in place, tucking in the joy for a few hours more.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk @saradika @zinzinina

#triple frontier poly fic #poly frontier #will miller x reader #santiago garcia x reader #frankie morales x reader #benny miller x reader #smut #barely

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