#Motionless In White blurb

[ciginatree]

vinny being so so soft with you and kissing you all over and holding you really close and :( hes such a sweet boy

😭😭😭he’s the sweetest boy istg he’d have you in his lap and he’d be laughing as he kisses every part of you he can while you jokingly try to get away and finally you give in and he starts kissing you so sweetly and telling you how much he loves you

Tags: @abiomens @rumoured-whispers @exitwoundsx @eternallytiredsinger @spookieolson @miss570

[valiantroeagleangel]

Hi I hope you’re doing well today!

I just need to get this out because I can’t get this scenario out of my head~

So MC and Vinny have been getting close and both have crushes on each other but neither has made the first move, so one night everyone gets drunk and they have a short little hook up but after he’s quite distant and she’s like…’wth? Did I do something wrong? Does he not actually like me?’

Anyway it gets to the point where she’s fed up and takes Vinny by the hand and leads him away, pushes him up against a wall and ‘queue the hot make out session’😉 which finally leads to confession and maybe more…

But anyway making out with Vinny against a wall 🔥💕 100/100

Hi, hope you're doing well too!! 💖

HERE ME OUT SWEETIE-

You're sitting there with Vinny, looking at each other, straight in the eyes and in complete silence. You're both sitting there and the tension is growing, some kind of discomfort but also a sexual one that's unspoken. And then you just can't take it anymore, you get up, grab his hand and drag him in the corridor, away from the others.

You're pushing him against the wall and he doesn't know what to do, he is so flustered. He can't get you out of his head, can't forget about what happened the other night when you were both drunk and he is so HORNY I swear- He's been avoiding you because it was all he could think about and he didn't want to be disrespectful. But he is so worked up on you that he doesn't know what to do except running away, he can't help himself.

And so both of you are standing against the wall. You lean on him, your hand brushing his torso and you notice how red and tense he is. Just like that, you tease him, only to see his reaction and he is ready to explode. His fist is clenching and he does his best to just not grab you by the waist and push you on him as he ravishes your mouth.

But one of you has to make a move because it's going nowhere so you just ask him "What's wrong?" in a sultry voice, noticing how hard he is growing under you, the bulge in his pants increasing against your crotch. "What are you talking about? Everything is fine.", he acts all innocent but his voice is cracking already.

He swears he is going to die if you don't stop now because he already reached his limit point. But you won't stop here, of course not. You've spent the last few days worrying about him avoiding you so now that he is under your hold he is not going anywhere.

"You've been avoiding me for days Vin. Do you hate me?" You ask and you watch his face decompose. His mind is racing, worrying about the situation he put you in or if you're hating him now. He shakes his head, signifying a 'no' as you pout. "You should make it up to me then." You add and he freaks out when your mouth approaches his.

Seconds later he melts on you, grabbing you by the waist as he wished to do for the last minutes. Little did you know, now you're both making out in the hallway, out of everybody's sight.

In the end, when you finally grow apart from each other he breathes out. "I don't hate you. I'm sorry if I made you feel like I did." You're still resting on his body, hidden by the darkness of the corridor, when someone passes by. Quickly he opens a door behind you, pulling you into the bedroom.

He pushes you against the door on the other side, being the one who is caging you. "I don't hate you. I'm obsessed with you. I can't get you out of my mind, I think I'm going crazy."

The rest belong to the story. 🫣 We will see each other later about that. 🤭

Wrote this in a few minutes, it might be terrible.

[solspina]

Where is a Line for Justice Drawn?

magnus the red ⋆˙⟡

a short little blurb i threw together while i was trying to lull myself to sleep last night! not heavily edited, so i apologize for any mistakes!

heresy is unforgivable, and magnus knows this better than anyone. psykers are heretics, and leman russ knows this better than anyone. the blood of the crimson lady and a young red skinned girl is the only way to pay the price.

warnings: major character death, child death, mentions of burning/heavy injury, angst and more angst, leman is very cruel

Pride will be the death of you.

Among his brothers, it was a common misconception that the pride of Magnus the Red lay solely in his power and knowledge of the unseen universe. They believed that he took the most pleasure from understanding things even the emperor didn’t, or took great joy in knowing more than the rest of them.

Their judgements were far from the truth, for it lay instead in the things they failed to see. His pride was a perfect two sided coin, one in which the sides belonged to different women respectively, none other than his wife and daughter. His brothers knew not of this, all of them besides Leman Russ.

Leman knew the truth. He knew where the sorcerer buried his deepest weakness, it was within that pathetic psyker of a wife and the vibrant red skin of his half divine daughter. He knew of the heresy that had been committed by Magnus upon prospero. He knew how to bring Magnus to his knees. He knew that Magnus feared him.

Perhaps that was how Magnus had gotten into the position he was in today.

His wife lay motionless on the floor, her pure white robes were bloodstained and dirty, an indication that she had tried to run away. An arrow was nestled carefully between her shoulder blades, penetrating her heart and pulling her away from life incredibly slowly.

Magnus knelt by his wife’s side, weeping ever so slightly as his heart shattered further with every passing second. He avoided the gaze of Leman who stood across the room. The crimson king’s infant daughter was still in the arms of the wolf, but her voice no longer cooed sweet nothings into her father’s ears or babbled at absolutely anything. Her skin, the same color as his, now paled in comparison to its once vibrant beauty. His child was lost, gone before she could ever say her first word or experience premonition.

Aside from the great king’s gentle sobs, the crackling of flames and the screaming of entire families could be heard outside. The noises, along with the suffocating smoke in the air, came from the streets of Prospero as it burned.

“One of them felt no pain, Magnus” Leman’s voice echoed across the room as he looked down upon the crimson skinned child, not a wound on her body. He didn’t want to know how she died. He wanted no knowledge of what the wolf did to his daughter. “The other, though…”

Bruises and small cuts had completely littered every inch of his wife’s perfect skin, a surface that Magnus used to caress with such gentleness and care. It was undeniable that she would put up a fight. Inevitable that she would try to run, only to be shot through her most vital organ of life the moment she made it into Magnus’ arms. Unavoidable that Leman would walk into the room immediately after the shot was fired, their daughter lifeless in his arms.

Even now, she clung to him with the last few moments of life she had within her. Her hands were placed upon the primarch’s shoulders as she shook in terror against him.

“Please” her voice trembled as tears spilled from her eyes. “I don’t want to die… I’m scared, Magnus…” Her expression was full of fear and her voice was barely above a whisper. He could tell from the way she looked at him that she was desperately seeking comfort, but he failed to grant her that wish. He wanted to reassure her, to tell that everything would be okay, but his words caught in his throat.

He was frozen, unable to process the gravity of the situation. He could not bear seeing her afraid like this, nor could he bring himself to lie to her. Helplessness washed over him like crashing waves, pulling him in and out of reality as he cradled her in his arms, one last time. “Magnus,” she spoke once more, her words weakened as she became tired, his own voice still failing him to speak. “I love you…”

In the blink of an eye, she was gone. An incredibly broken “I love you too” finally made it’s way out of his throat, but far too late for her to hear.

Leman laughed maniacally, sickeningly. “A death fit for a psyker.” He spat, venom and contempt dripped from his voice. He walked across the room with a chilling calmness, Magnus’ daughter cradled in his arms. With a grotesque mockery of calmness, Leman placed the lifeless baby gently in her cradle. He had covered the young girl with her blanket, creating a display as if she had merely been asleep. He was teasing the weeping crimson king with every action, the cruelty of the executioner in its most pure form.

“My work for father is done here” claimed the wolf, his teeth beared in a smile as he looked down upon the pathetic excuse for a sorcerer cradling his wife. “Heretics are to be executed, brother” Leman declared, his voice cold and unyielding. He before turned on his heels as he prepared to exit Magnus’ tower, his tattered cloak billowed behind him. “You should know better.” were his final, cutting words to the crimson king as he left him to drown in his grief. His beloved tower, once home to both his family and infinite pillars of knowledge, had come to feel like more of a tomb.

Magnus carefully removed his wife from the ground and placed her down on their bed, one they shared while she was alive, before making his way to the cradle his daughter lay in. He lifted her from her bed and away from the blankets that Leman had tainted with blood, the face of the babe was peaceful and serene despite all that had happened, despite her lack of life. He opted to lay the baby in the arms of his wife, allowing the only two things that mattered more than knowledge to appear together one final time. He looked upon them with sorrow, trying desperately to convince himself that the two of them were simply sleeping. It had just been a long day and they were tired, that’s all this was.

His hands trembled as he caressed the baby’s cheek, her face illuminated by the bright orange flames that raged outside. He lay his own body next to the two women, one arm over the both of them. He spoke to them, sharing with them stories and knowledge that even humanity had not yet touched, they never would. Prospero burned, and the unrelenting flames would not cease.

Perhaps it was not selfish for the primarch to allow himself the liberty of dying next to his wife and daughter. The flames that burned his skin could never match the warmth the girls used to provide when they lived, and he’d take every ounce of the fading heat until he emitted none of his own.

Would it be selfish to become the monster that Leman had suspected? Would it be selfish to wish for change?

[senditcolton]

If You Want It Done

summary: after a disappointing playoff loss, brady reappears on your doorstep eight months after he ended things. and he has nothing on his mind but taking out his frustrations by having you desperate and keening for him once again. however, you aren't about to submit without a fight.

song inspo: NFWB by Hozier & Rats by Motionless in White word count: 5.1k warnings: feminine reader. smut! hair pulling, fingering, unprotected penetration, spanking, slight choking, oral (m receiving), and - as always - a healthy amount of dirty talk. plus somewhat toxic and insanely cocky brady.

a/n: no tricks here. just a sweet treat in the form of long- awaited Brady Skjei smut. technically it's a continuation of this blurb, but i just combined the original and the addition into one fic for you all. enjoy and happy halloween.

Sadness. Humiliation. Shame.

Those should be the emotions running through Brady as the plane lands back in Carolina after Game 4 of the Eastern Conference Finals. Because he wasn’t back ready to fight for another win. He was here to pack his bags and go home.

The best team in the Metro. Swept. By a wild card team who barely made the playoffs.

It was a disaster, an embarrassment. And Brady should feel the heavy weight of that failure, even if he might only be responsible for one-nineteenth of the blame. Or, at least, he should feel the waves of sadness crashing over him about the way it ended, or the mere fact that it did end.

But he didn’t. Perhaps he had earlier, when that final buzzer sounded and the fans in South Florida cheered. But now, having sat with those feelings for the better part of 24 hours, he was no longer sad.

He was angry.

And so, when the wheels touched down in Raleigh and he collected his car, he didn’t drive home.

Instead, he drove to yours.

~

A tired sigh leaves you as you pull up to your quaint cottage-style home. A long work week was cause for an even longer relaxing weekend and you were ready to start that weekend by getting inside and having a long nap. Or a strong drink. Or perhaps both.

However, after hopping out of your car and wandering up the small path that leads to your front door, your plans placed on a momentary hold when you see someone leaning against your siding, their baseball cap pulled low.

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,” you call out, ready for this stranger to flash you an award-winning smile and tell you all about how their company could save you money on roofing repairs after last week’s storm.

But when their head lifts, you stop in your tracks as you recognize the face staring back at you.

Hell, you used to wake up to it every morning for eight months. Until he ended things.

“Brady.”

His name falls from your mouth in complete practiced apathy. You didn’t need him to know how much time you spent crying over him in the last month. You especially didn’t need him to know how your heart still skipped a beat when his eyes connected to yours.

“Did you see the game?” he asks.

“I heard.”

“And?”

“And what? Do you want to cry for you?”

There’s a humorless chuckle that comes from Brady as his head falls before he takes a step towards you.

“You always knew how to make me feel better,” he says, the sarcasm lacing his voice. And when you hear it, that dry scathing tone, you realize that you didn’t recognize the man in front of you.

Brady was always soft, gentle, welcoming. It made the dichotomy between you even more obvious; you all sharp edges and harsh words and burning fire. It was part of the reason the two of you broke up.

But this Brady… there was something different. Something dangerous. it intrigued you. But not enough for you to give in.

“I’m not going to coddle you, Brady. You should know that by now.” 

“I don’t want your sympathy.”

“What do you want then?” you ask, finally taking a few steps forward, closing the gap between you and your front door. “You want my pity? You want me to say ‘poor you, poor Brady’?”

It’s your turn to let a scoff fall from your lips as you reach into your bag for your keys, Brady now behind you.

“If you wanted someone to feel sorry for you, you came to the wrong fucking house,” you explain, unlocking the door.

Before you can even reach the handle, you feel Brady step forward, his hands falling on your hips as his body crowds you into the smooth wood. You attempt to take a deep breath to calm your heart but it doesn’t help because when you breathe in, your senses are filled with the smell of his cologne. A smell so familiar. One you missed.

Brady moves closer, his body almost pinning you to the door and you can’t stop your knees from trembling as you feel the heat of him behind you.

“I came here because I missed you,” he whispers into your ear.

“And it took you getting your ass kicked to realize that?” you shoot back. Although, the waver in your voice betrays you, revealing how much your body was responding to him; his touch, his words, his warmth. Brady just lets his previous sentence continue, as if he didn’t even hear you.

“And because I know you missed me just as much.”

You couldn’t let him do this – let him come crawling back to you when he was broken or bored. You no longer belonged to him. It was a recipe for disaster.

“I think you’ve forgotten that I’m not one of those girls that would fall on their knees for you.”

“You seemed to enjoy being on your knees for me when we were together.”

“And we’re not together anymore. So, find someone else to fuck your frustrations out on.”

“Is that what you did?”

“None of your business.”

You feel his grip on your hips tighten and you barely have time to react as he effortlessly spins your body until your back is pressed against the wood of the door, your eyes now looking up at him.

“You’re lying.”

Brady almost spits out the words, as if even the barest suggestion that what you said was true was poison to him. Your eyes follow the movement in his temple, the clenching of his jaw, the storm in his eyes. This wasn’t the side of Brady that you knew.

But it was a side that you were always curious to discover. Throughout those eight months, you wanted to know if Brady had that same fire hiding within him – a passion and intensity that could match yours. And now, you could finally see it peeking through.

You wanted it to come out completely. 

“And you can tell?” you ask, wielding your words with edge and precision. “Does that make you feel worse? If I told you about all the other men that ended up in my bed?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I wouldn’t? Are you sure? You knew what you giving up when you left. Can’t blame me for moving on.”

“You wouldn’t,” Brady repeats, one hand falling away and you barely have time to comprehend where it had gone when you feel the steady weight of the door fall away from you.

Your body lurches back, the momentum pulling you until it is abruptly stopped by Brady’s strong arms, pulling you close and lifting you over the threshold. Your feet find the hardwood of your floors before Brady is spinning you again and you find yourself pressed against the door once more, this time inside your house instead of without.

“You wouldn’t,” he reiterates, “because no one could make you feel as good as I did.”

You hear the deadbolt click, the sound causing the heat pool in your stomach. Brady’s hand moves back to your hip, pulling you close again as he leans in until your lips are barely touching. It’s intoxicating, having him this close to you once again. You are about to surge forward, connect your lips to his, let your fire burn with his. Until Brady speaks again.

“No one could make you feel as good as I’m about to.”

That statement pulls all rationality from you and you don’t hesitate to close the gap between you, crashing your lips onto his. Brady returns the kiss with as much intensity, his hands gripping you tighter while yours move to trace over his arms, his broad shoulders before tangling into that salt-and-pepper hair. The kiss is frantic, all teeth and tongues and it takes a moment before Brady finally pulls away, connecting those brown eyes to your own

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “You always will be.”

The words cut right through you; as a threat or a promise, you weren’t really sure. But the instant that Brady crashes his lips back into yours, you find that you don’t care.

God, you missed this. You would be lying if you didn’t spend many restless nights reminiscing on how his hands felt on your body. How his lips felt on your skin.

But you wouldn’t tell him that. The words would never leave your mouth, not while Brady is standing in front of you. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. At least, not yet.

Instead, you get lost in Brady’s kisses, your hands coming to tangle deeper in his hair, pulling him closer to you as your hips roll up to meet his. You think you can hear a dark chuckle rumble from Brady and vibrate directly into your body, sending sparks of electricity flowing through you. His hands roam across your body, up from your hips to the soft material of your blouse before landing on your breasts, giving them a squeeze, causing your head to fall back.

“Missed these perfect tits,” he mumbles, his movements against your chest continuing in response to the soft moan falling from your mouth. Your moan turns into a sharp gasp as Brady grips the center of your shirt and tears it open. The sound of the buttons scattering across the hardwood floor floods your ears and it inexplicably turns you on even more.

If this was any other man, you would be pissed off at him for ruining your one of your favorite shirts. But this was Brady. A new Brady.

In those eight months you were with him, he was nothing but a gentleman, both outside and inside the bedroom. And he was more than satisfactory. But you knew there had to be something underneath all that charm. An untamed animal just waiting to be unchained.

And if this was the key to its cage, you weren’t about to stop everything to cry over a few buttons. But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to complain at all.

“You’re buying me a new shirt,” you mutter against Brady’s lips. Brady swiftly removes his mouth from yours as he looks down at your newly exposed bra.

“Gonna buy you something new to wear under it,” comes his response as his thumbs trace over the edge of the plain nude material and this time, you can stop your eyes from rolling in annoyance.  

“Do you really think I wear lingerie to work?” you quip, staring up at him.

You can see his eyes harden and it is in that moment that you realize he was enjoying this. The chase, the tease, the dare, the push and pull between the two of you.

“If you don’t like it,” you continue, your voice taking on a sultry tone as you continue to meet his dark brown eyes, “then take it off.”

The quick sparkle that appears in his brown eyes makes you think that he has taken the bait, that you might have gained some control over the situation at hand – a situation that you were wholly unprepared for but welcomed none the less. And when Brady leans back in to lock you lips together once again, his hands wandering around your ribcage towards your back, the confidence grows.

However, it takes a sharp plummet when you feel his hands drop from your frame. If Brady had given you a split second longer, you would have broken the kiss to question or quip him again. But you have barely any time to miss the sensation of his hands on your skin before you feel them grip the back of your thighs as Brady uses his athletic strength to effortlessly lift you off the floor.

You gasp, a gasp that Brady gladly swallows before he spins, tearing his lips away from yours to look around your house. There is a part of you that wants to tell him nothing has changed from the last time he was there – the furniture is the same, your bedroom is still two doors down on the left – but your lips have already busied themselves marking the smooth skin on his neck.

There was also a power in your decisions; forcing him to find his way through your space all while doing your best to distract him. And it seems to be working as you feel Brady’s pulse shudder underneath your mouth.

You feel him take a lurching turn right and a slight flash of confusion runs through you until you feel his body lowering. The soft material of your couch hits your knees and the skirt you had on flows out around you as you now straddle Brady.

“Forgot where the bedroom was?” you chirp into his neck, feeling his desperate hands return to your torso as he removes the tattered remains of your blouse from your waistband.

It seems that it takes a minute for your words to register but when they do, Brady’s hand lifts to tangle in your hair. Another gasp escapes from your chest as his fingers tighten before pulling your head away from his neck. He quickly reverses the roles, his own lips moving to your newly exposed throat, your breath transforming from gasps to soft sighs as his mouth works against your skin.

“Who says I’m not going to take you there after I’m done here?”

“Who says I would let you back into my bed anyway?” you retort to keep some semblance of control.

Your pathetic attempt is clearly read by Brady, who makes you falter once again as the hand not tangled in your hair effortlessly unclasps your bra. His lips depart from your neck as he helps slide the material down your arms, throwing it carelessly somewhere in the room. You both hate and love the smirk that appears on his face as he takes in your heaving chest, your pebbled nipples. His dark eyes dart back up to you briefly before he is tugging you into him for another animalistic kiss.

“Seems that you like it so far,” he whispers into your open mouth before he pulls away again, lifting your body upright and pulling you closer. “I’ll take my chances.”

You wish that you could say something back, something to knock his arrogant confidence down a peg but your mind goes blank as his lips move to your collarbone, leaving faint hickeys against the taut skin before moving down to your chest. His lips close around one of your nipples, tongue moving to tease the sensitive peak as his hands rest on your ribcage, his thumbs running across the delicate skin on the underside of your breasts. Your hands fly to the back of his head, keeping him close and you can feel his lips curl against your skin. The action both turns you on and pisses you off, a combination that you weren’t sure could even work until now.

You fly into action, hands moving down to grip the fabric stretched across his broad shoulders, tugging at the material and pulling it upward before he finally breaks away to help you remove the shirt entirely, tossing it away to join your clothes on the living room floor.

His lips return to your chest, moving to leave no skin unmarred with his love bites as your hands drop to his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle in silent encouragement. Brady’s hands lower before coming to grip your ass and you gasp as he pulls you forward, the action causing your hips to roll. You both let out moans at the sensation of you grinding against him and it turns you on more to feel his erection against your core.

“And here I thought I was the masochist,” you joke, moving your hips of your own volition, pressing deeper into him. The grunt that your actions pull from his chest has you grinning. “Who’d know you get this hard from getting your ass kicked?”

You must’ve struck a nerve, prodded at the memory he came here to forget, because the only thing you hear in response is what could best be described as a growl before he lifts you off of his lap enough to slip out from underneath you. Your brain recognizes the weight of his body disappearing from the couch and you attempt to turn, just to keep your eyes locked on him but Brady doesn’t give you a chance.

His large hand finds the space between your shoulder blades and pushes you forward, your torso falling until your chest meets the back cushions. You can’t stop the gasp that falls, your arms lifting over the edge of the couch as your back arches, your hips pressing back towards Brady now looming behind you.

A dark chuckle echoes throughout the room in response to your actions as he pulls the material of your skirt over your hips, exposing more of your body to him. He doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t even bother removing your underwear, instead choosing to move it to the side before he slips two fingers into your already soaked core.  

You let out a moan, your head falling forward as Brady’s hand moves, winding you up and my God, you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the feeling. His thumb quickly finds your clit, pressing against the bundle of nerves and you can’t stop the way your body responds to his movements.

“That’s what I thought,” he laughs. “You have no right to that attitude when you’re this fucking desperate for me.”

He emphasizes his words with a curl of his fingers, the tips grazing your g-spot and the combined sensation of his hands skillfully moving against you almost has you falling over the edge. Brady doesn’t give you your satisfaction that easily though as he removes his fingers from your core. You whimper at the loss, listening intently to Brady’s movements behind you, impatient to feel him once more.

Brady doesn’t leave you wanting for long as you hear the rustle of his pants hitting the floor and before you can blink, you feel his hands practically tear your panties down your legs before he enters you in one swift, harsh motion.

The moans that you both let out are delicious and desperate. You whine as you move your hips back, pushing him impossibly deeper. Brady groans, his hands quickly finding purchase on your hips, gripping you tight before he begins to move.

“Oh god,” you moan out as Brady fucks into you with quick hard thrusts, showing no mercy, your ass rippling every time it meets his hips. You are grateful for the couch cushions in front of you, helping to support your upper body as your fingers dig into the fabric so deeply that an irrational part of you worries you might tear it.

“Not God, sweetheart. Just me,” Brady replies, his movements barely faltering. “Come on, say my name.”

You wish you could tell him to fuck off, make a quip about his cocky attitude but your mouth doesn’t seem able to form the words or any words for that matter. The only thing you want is for him to continue. A sharp smack against your ass jolts your body forward and your head whips around in surprise, eyes connecting to Brady.

“Say. My. Name,” he repeats, now more command than anything else, every word punctuated by another spank and you are helpless to comply.

“Brady,” you whine, your desperation painted on every letter, your eyes staying locked on him, drinking in his reaction. He groans, his teeth coming to bite his lower lip, his gaze dropping from your face to connect to where his cock disappears into your pussy.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart.”  

His quiet encouragement is all you need to continue moaning his name over and over. One of his hands falls from your hips to join yours in gripping the back of the couch, his body now completely covering yours, the new leverage only increasing the strength in which Brady thrusts into you. Your head falls to rest against the back cushion, the sounds of your staccato whimpers and breathy curses filling the living room along with the continuous depraved slapping of skin against skin.

You whine as you feel his hand disappear from your hip and slowly trace up your body, the softness of his touch a sharp contrast. The gentleness doesn’t last long and your whine turns into a gasp as Brady’s large hand wraps around your throat, pulling your head upwards.

“Keep saying my name,” he says, his hot breath fanning across the shell of your ear. “Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”

“You are, Brady.”

“Yeah? Can anyone else fuck you like I can?”

“No. Only you.”

“That’s right. Only me,” he growls in satisfaction, emphasizing his words with his rhythm.

“Fuck, Brady, please,” you plead, your voice strained from how much focus it took to pry the words from your mouth. “I’m close.”

“Well then, come on sweetheart. Touch yourself. Remind me how good it feels when you cum on my cock.”

The speed in which your hand falls is reckless, frantic to get that additional pressure that you were craving. As soon as your fingers press against your clit, your head falls back against Brady’s shoulder in relief. His praise is muffled against your skin as he peppers your shoulder with kisses, only interrupted by quiet curses as he feels your core flutter.

It is hot, so unbelievably hot – how he’s fucking you, how he’s holding you – that it doesn’t take long for you to finally fall over the precipice, your own hand faltering against you as your orgasm rocks through your body. A groan falls from Brady as he feels you clench around him; a groan that he muffles by sinking his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, the additional sensation causing you to moan louder, hips rocking back against him as his motions halt.

The haze that pricked at the corner of your eyes slowly dissipates and you can feel Brady’s hand fall from your neck. The cool air cascades over your back as Brady lifts himself away from you causing goosebumps to appear. A small whimper escapes when you feel him remove himself from your core and steps away. The submissive part of your mind, still in control, panics in fear that he might leave. But the concern is short lived as Brady sits down next to you, pulling you back into his lap.

He wastes no time capturing you in another kiss, stealing any remaining breath from your lungs. Brady attempts to break the kiss but you don’t let him, hands lifting to cup his jaw and pulling him deeper into the kiss. He doesn’t resist and allows you to continue to kiss him, his own arms wrapping around your body.

Eventually your hands move, trailing down his throat, dancing over his chest and you smile against his lips as you feel his abs tighten in response to your fingers sinking lower until they finally reach the desired destination.

You gently take his still hard length in your hand and stroke him a few times, which was easy to do with your prior release clinging to the silky-smooth skin. You grin as you feel the vibrations of Brady’s soft moan in response to your ministrations. The cloud of your orgasm had lifted and, in its absence, your own confidence returned.

“Want me to take care of that for you?” you question, only moving far enough away to ask, your lips brushing against his occasionally. Brady doesn’t respond; you knew he wouldn’t. He had worked too hard to give up the dominance he held over you so easily. But you weren’t deterred.

You kiss him deeply one more time before your lips follow the path your hands previously traced: down his throat, over his collarbones, across his chest. An occasional moan and curse fall from Brady as you continue your descent and you grin, knowing that his resolve was slowly cracking. Your body moves, shuffling from being perched on top of his lap to kneel on the plush carpet between his thighs. Brady’s eyes are needy when your own eyes dart up to meet his stare. Your hand strokes him again but you make no attempt to put your mouth on him, the dare hanging clearly in the air.

“Baby, please,” Brady finally speaks, his hips punching upwards.

“Who’s fucking desperate now?” you quip, unable to contain your excitement at regaining the upper hand. Your jaw drops open in surprise as Brady’s hand darts out, grabbing your neck once more, his eyes growing dark.

“You want to repeat that sweetheart?” he asks, that dominant energy rolling off him again. Except this time, it doesn’t make you back down. Instead, it just spurs you on, that heat and elation as it returns – the battle, the chase. Your dropped jaw just morphs into a wicked grin and you are ecstatic to see a similar smirk twist onto Brady’s lips; a quiet confirmation that he was still enjoying the newfound push and pull between you two.

“Come on Brady. Admit it. You are just as desperate for me as I am for you,” you explain, your voice dipping again into your lower sultry timbre. “Tell me, do any of those other girls have a mouth like mine?”

You flatten your tongue against his shaft and lick a bold stripe up his length before moving your lips to leave a lingering teasing kiss on the head. Brady groans, his head falling back as his hand moves from your neck to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer in an attempt for you to fully wrap your lips around him.

“No one can fuck me like you can?” you continue, hand wrapping around his cock. “Well, you’ll never find someone who can give better head than I can.”

You don’t give him any chance to respond as you surge forward, finally taking him into your wet mouth. Your tongue traces every vein that you could feel as your hand moves against the rest of him. Brady’s moans sounding from above fuel you and you continue to work your sinful magic against his skin.

It may have been months since you two were in this particular position but you feel like a part of you will remember everything about Brady, including all the spots that make him groan and twitch and throb. Your lips move to suck on the tip, teasing the area where the head meets the shaft with your tongue.

“Fuck,” Brady curses, his hips jumping causing his cock to thrust into your mouth. You gag a little before withdrawing – not completely but only enough to catch your breath. Your eyes dart to his and find that he is already staring at you, his salt-and-pepper hair falling over his forehead. The moan you release at the sight vibrates around Brady causing an identical moan to escape him. You inhale deeply before lowering your head, relaxing your throat until the entirety of his cock is nestled in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking good at that,” he groans, his fingers twisting in your hair. You move, shallowly bobbing your head as you feel him pulse against your tongue, a tell-tale sign he was getting close. The assumption was only confirmed by the next word Brady spoke. “Fuck, baby, gonna cum.”

You pull your mouth from him, replacing it quickly with your hand and continuing the pace you had set.

“I won’t waste a drop,” you say, keeping your eyes locked to his as you wrap your lips around him once again, your hands moving to the side his thighs and pressing your fingertips up into them. Brady understands your silent request, hand once again tightening in your hair as he moves his hips upward, taking control.

“Yeah? You going to swallow it all like a good girl?”

You nod your head, keeping your mouth open and accepting everything he gives, moaning against his skin as he increases his pace. It’s only a few more moments before Brady throws his head back against the couch cushions, a long groan emulating from his chest as his own orgasm hits. You feel his cum hit the back of your throat and you greedily pull him deeper, determined to keep your word.

You let Brady collect himself and take a few deep breaths before you slowly raise your head, sliding off of his cock. You wait until his eyes connect to yours before you swallow, releasing a satisfied exhale afterwards. You can’t help but make a show of it, licking your lips before opening your mouth to show him that you indeed didn’t let anything go to waste.

Brady grins, a smile which you quickly mirror before his hands are on your body, hauling you off the floor and back into his lap. Your lips connect and you sigh, savoring the euphoric glow that surrounded the two of you. The two of you continue to make out for a few minutes, relaxing before you pull away, looking down at Brady.

“D’you feel better?” you joke, the remembrance of why he came to your house in the first place – and what it all meant now – nagging in the back of your mind. You aren’t sure if you can see sadness lingering on the corners of Brady’s smile as his hand runs soothing circles across your spine.

“A little.”

“Need anything else?”

“Maybe a shower,” he replies, looking up at you with those brown eyes that always made you weak. A sparkle that spells nothing but trouble for you flashes in his irises as his smile turns into a wicked smirk. “And perhaps a round two, starting with my head buried between your thighs.”

“Demanding, aren’t you?” you breathlessly chuckle, your head shaking in playful disbelief as your tear your gaze from his.

“I just know what I want.”

“Which is?”

“You.”

His quiet declaration has your head turning back to him, connecting your eyes once again. The emotions displayed in his own stare are unfathomable and you know that this isn’t the place to attempt to decipher them. You don’t have time to unwind and unravel the mess that defined you and Brady’s connection: your prior relationship, the subsequent break-up, and everything that happened today.

So, instead, you gently climb from Brady’s lap, standing upright before stretching out your hand towards him. He accepts your offer and you help lift him off the sofa before dragging him down the hallway to the second door on the left, back into your bed.

Like he always belonged there.

Like he never left.

tagging the skjei-sy sluts (affectionate) who asked for a continuation + a few others I think would appreciate this: @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @cellythefloshie @comphy-and-cozy @laurenairay

[thevegandarkelf]

Masterlist

AO3 link

Key:

❤️ = fluff 🖤 = angsty 💓 = smut 👀 = implied smut 😉 = sexual content but no smut

The Walking Dead

Multi-Chapter Fics:

➼ Finding Myself, Finding You ❤️ 🖤 👀

Incorrect Quotes:

➼ Original Ideas 👀 😉

➼ Movie Quotes/Tiktok Audios 👀 😉

Oneshots, Drabbles, Blurbs & More:

➼ Taken Care Of ❤️ 💓

➼ Lydia Rae Vector (OC profile)

➼ One Tradition At A Time ❤️ 🖤 😉

Quarters of the Undead (TWD AU) Coming Soon!

↣ I've been writing as a hobby since I was 14. I loved writing so much that I went on to get my degree in Creative Writing.

↣ I prefer to write x OC work. I love creating a character from the ground up and crafting their backstory.

↣ I'm by no means new to the TWD fandom, but I only recently started writing fanfic for it.

↣ Daryl Dixon & Scud Frohmeyer are my comfort characters.

↣ My favorite season of TWD is Season 2. There's something so comforting about the Greene farm era & I'm homesick for it.

↣ My favorite TWD couple is Glenn & Maggie.

↣ I'm an elder emo

↣ My favorite bands are Black Veil Brides, Motionless in White, and Ice Nine Kills

↣ I'm a gamer & a weeb. I love all things nerdy & geeky.

↣ My favorite video game is Skyrim (my build is a dark elf destruction mage). I also enjoy Subnautica & Borderlands.

↣ My current games-to-play are Elder Scrolls Online, Baldur's Gate 3, Morrowind, Still Wakes the Deep, and Ark Survival Ascended.

↣ I've been vegan since I was 23, and I went vegan for animal rights reasons.

Ideas/Works In Progress:

↣ Another Daryl Dixon x OC smut

↣ Something where my OC (who's a doctor) gives Daryl a crash course in women

↣ A story where my OC returns to her childhood home with Daryl

↣ The forest scene with Negan featuring my OC

↣ My first installment in the 'Quarters of the Undead' AU

*thevegandarkelf 2024. I do not consent formy work to be shared or copied. Pfp was created with Picsart (I do not own the pic of Daryl, I just did the edit).*

[heartfullofleeches]

RoadSide

Immortal Yan + G.N Reader Blurb/Intro

Summary: A car accident leads to a bigger crash

Warning: Violence/injury, light gore

Bile sits in your throat, held back by the seatbelt pinning you to your seat.

Your body is heavy- the leather digging into your skin adding weight to your imbalanced skull. Your windshield is cracked, the white fractures and spray of blood making it hard to see from it while the blinking headlights make up for the range you couldn't see. What you refused to see.

A body lays ten feet away from your car. Motionless and surrounded by a halo of red that trickles back to the hood. The collected mass of blood and saliva in your mouth pours free as the body twitches. This.. wasn't how tonight was supposed to go. You were heading home from work when it happened. Same road, same speed - only one difference. He came out of nowhere. You saw it. The pressure behind your eyes disfigured your judgment, but you swore as your car came into contact with his fragile body - fear was the last thing present in his eyes.

Air rushes into your withered lungs as you unhook your seatbelt and crawl out of the car. You had to make sure he was okay. Everything burned, but you were far better off than him. You sure the front of your car as a crutch as you round to the front, smearing his cold blood all over your hand. You shutter as it stains your clothes, but you don't have the pleasure of expressing your fear. Choking back a sob, you drag yourself over to his side.

Blood bloomed from the left side of his shirt where he was hit, blossoming beneath the tire marks decaled on his white tee like some twisted joke. The cruel irony makes you gag. His leg was bent at an odd angle and face obscured by his fair, holes thorn through body and clothes from being used like a skipping stone by his chair. One hand hides within his jacket while the other clutches his phone. It's surprisingly not damaged. Taking a closer look at his opposite arm you can see what looks like a plastic bag filled with cushion.

"s....."

You thought you were hearing things, but his lips slowly form the words his broken jaw struggle to expel. His body trembles, knuckles rapping the road to gain your attention. You lean in.

"le...."

He coughs up a sea of red, exposed ribs heaving.

"I can't hear you..."

You lean in close.

"Smile wide."

In range, the thought to be corpse lunges out and drags you to the floor as he sits up. Too weak to struggle despite the drastic degrees of your injuries, you claw at his arm as he wraps it around your neck. The smily muscle of his torn cheek glides up against your tear riddled face as he pulls you in. A blinding light assaults your weary eyes as he presses the red button on the screen. You scramble as soon as he let's go.

"Shiiit. That's fucking hot, babes. You look so fucking good covered in my blood and it looks like my eye's about to pop right out! I was getting cloder feet because I thought you weren't going to come by tonight. Unfortunately, this lazy bitch has to go back in if I'm not sleeping in a ditch tonight."

You look away as he jams his finger in his eyes, grunting as he forces it into the socket. "What's... going on. With those injuries you should be able to move like that. Is this some kind of sick prank?"

"'fraid not, sweetheart. My guts are absolutely soup right now. Name's Devlin. Your new boyfriend, husband, bitch, pet - whatever you want to call me. Doesn't really matter, since we're gonna be together for the rest of our lives... unless you want these pictures to get out."

He scrolls through the many pictures taken of the accident. Your bloody car and license plate, his mangled limbs, a picture of him holding a thumb up, and the final one taken minutes ago.

"Obviously a few of those are between us, but if you reject me I can change face and send these photos in. Things would look mighty suspicious with no body - right?"

"I.... I guess."

"Good." He sighs, a fresh growth of blood developing over his shirt. "I knew you were the one when you ran me over the first time. Not a brick in the road now, am I? Anywho, your car still work? We can get it to a mechanic and then we can go have some fun... or head home. Not like we'll ever be apart again so I don't have any preference."

[abiomens]

୨ৎ doliah’s masterlist ୨ৎ

- ୨ৎ bad omens ୨ৎ -

noah sebastian

nicholas ruffilo

nick folio

matt dierkes

- ୨ৎ motionless in white ୨ৎ -

chris motionless

ricky olson

vinny mauro

- ୨ৎ will ramos ୨ৎ -

will blurb, 2

- ୨ৎ courtney laplante ୨ৎ -

courtney x reader x noah

- dollie rambles - - intro -

[ciginatree]

babe i need possessive/jealous chris SO BAD rn im convulsing

Can you do this for vinny?

Of course!

The waiter had been eyeing you a little too much, his gaze wandering lower than it should. Vinny tightens his grip in yours and clenches his jaw, handing him his credit card to pay for the meal. You say a bright “thank you” to the server as you exit the restaurant; Vinny just stares straight ahead. That is, until he turns his head to kiss your neck briefly, making dead eye contact with the server behind the two of you.

Later

“Say my fucking name.” Vinny’s hips snap into yours, one hand holding both of your wrists above your head. He pants warm breaths inches from your face, sweat beading on both of your bodies. “Vinny! God, Vinny!” You cry out, your legs shaking as they hook over his waist. “That’s right, baby, keep screaming my name. Let everyone know who you fucking belong to.”

Tags: @abiomens @rumoured-whispers @exitwoundsx @eternallytiredsinger @miss570

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 4/5

Book Blurb:

From New York Times bestselling and Hugo Award-winning author T. Kingfisher comes A Sorceress Comes to Call—a dark reimagining of the Brothers Grimm's "The Goose Girl," rife with secrets, murder, and forbidden magic.

*The hardcover edition features a foil stamp on the casing and custom endpapers illustrated by the author.*

Cordelia knows her mother is . . . unusual. Their house doesn’t have any doors between rooms—there are no secrets in this house—and her mother doesn't allow Cordelia to have a single friend. Unless you count Falada, her mother's beautiful white horse. The only time Cordelia feels truly free is on her daily rides with him.

But more than simple eccentricity sets her mother apart. Other mothers don’t force their daughters to be silent and motionless for hours, sometimes days, on end. Other mothers aren’t evil sorcerers.

When her mother unexpectedly moves them into the manor home of a wealthy older Squire and his kind but keen-eyed sister, Hester, Cordelia knows this welcoming pair are to be her mother's next victims. But Cordelia feels at home for the very first time among these people, and as her mother's plans darken, she must decide how to face the woman who raised her to save the people who have become like family.

Review:

A dark reimagining of the Brothers Grimm's "The Goose Girl" filled with magic, murder, family drama, and a dash of romance. Cordelia knows her mother is not like other mothers... especially since her mother has the ability to control Cordelia physically. Cordelia lives her life restrained, in fear, forced to be obedient to her mother... and all she wants to do is escape. Yet when her mother moves them from their home into a manor of a wealthy Squire whom she plans on wedding... things take a turn. Cordelia finally finds herself having more companions and knows she has to save the Squire and his sister from her mother before they become her next victims. Yet what can a girl with no powers do against a sorceress and who will believe her? Cordelia finally feels like she's found a home with these people... but her mother's plans threaten to destroy everything and its up to Cordelia to find the courage to face the woman who raised her to save the people who have become like family to her. This was a delightful fairytale reimagining and it definitely deals with family relationships and abuse. I really enjoyed the character dynamics and the story pacing was so well done. It's definitely a quick read and really lets you step into the world. It's a fun read that I would absolutely recommend for anyone who wants a fairytale retelling or a complicated mother-daughter story with a dash of murder, magic, and found family!

Release Date: August 6,2024

Publication/Blog: Ash and Books (ash-and-books.tumblr.com)

*Thanks Netgalley and Tor Publishing Group | Tor Books for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[tearfallpixie]

Blurb #13 for @cookiesupplier

Ooooh! Ok so this one got put on hold because I wanted to do justice to the Trans community and needed to do a little more research to continue it but I loved the idea anyway. It takes the song a bit out of context though.

~~~~

“Well somebody told me you had a boyfriend, who looked like a girlfriend, that I had in February of last year.” I scowled and flicked off the radio. Motionless in White had just released a cover of the popular song by The Killers and with the history Chris Motionless and I had, it felt a little on the nose. We had broken up a year ago but he never seemed to stop making songs that related to our relationship.

“That was targeted.” I grumbled. “You and I aren’t even dating.”

“Dude, Payton. You are like the only one who can’t see how in love with you he still is.” My best friend, Kennedy, told me. “I know I’ve asked you a million times but why wont you two talk to each other? It’s been a year and you two are both still sickeningly in love with each other. He doesn’t seem to be the type to be transphobic.”

“I- I never told him.” I finally admitted.

“Wait. You never told him you were trans?” She exclaimed. “Pay, how can you think that he’s targeting you when he doesn’t even know why you left him in the first place?” I huffed but didn’t offer a response. “That settles it. You are coming on warp tour with me, and you are telling him. One, that we aren’t dating, and two that you still love him.”

“Kennedy, he’s straight. He won’t want to be with me.”

“There it is. I can promise you, he is not straight by any means and he still loves you.” She scolded.

[eternal-ascensionism]

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Hey folks! I haven’t done a proper intro post yet, so I suppose this is it! I’ll give a brief summary: I’m Raeven (they/them), I’m in my mid 20s and I have been writing on and off for over 10 years. Obviously nothing special or professionally published, just fics and prompts and such :)

I will write both SFW and NSFW, I have a few limits that I will list below. I will write for the following fandoms/bands (these aren’t the only ones, just what came to mind as I’m typing this):

•Sleep Token

•Bad Omens

•Motionless In White

•Eddie Munson (Stranger Things)

•Steve Harrington (Stranger Things)

•Bucky Barnes (MCU)

•Horror classics (think: the OG ghostfaces, Michael Myers if you freak like that, etc.)

WHAT I WILL WRITE:

•fluff

•angst

•smut

•comfort

•thriller

•prompts/blurbs

•HCs

WHAT I WON’T WRITE:

•incest

•non-con

•anything involving bodily waste

•extreme body horror

•themes involving abuse of children (characters may have a tough backstory but I will not be going into detail or making it a main plot point)

•certain fetishes such as feet/abdl/etc. (If you’re unsure abt a kink but wanna see it written just ask! Worst I’ll say is no lmao)

I may add to this post as time goes on, but this is the basics for now! I hope to do your feral minds justice, feel free to shoot me an ask! I will also accept your writings if you wanna send em in :) I will post as-is or add onto it if you want!

[downtherabbitholewithauntieblegh]

Dirty Little Fairy Tale ~ Origin out on 11/11/24 on Amazon and Kindle!

You wanna know why I like the pain you say

There’s some sick part of me thankful for the hate

I stay positive, and I push forward ya see

I gotta do the right thing for my family

So I smile and say that the world is just fine

As those fucking parasites eat up my spine

So I ask you once and I ask you again

Where do your roots starts and where you your roots end?

~In This Moment

That song has always resonated with me. Roots by In This Moment is just one of the many songs that created my new book, Dirty Little Fairy Tale ~ Origin. Origin by Dayseeker, The Fountain by Bad Omens, Death Roll by Wage War, Eternally Yours by Motionless in White are just a handful of songs that created my book and soundtrack. In This Moment has a total of four songs on my soundtrack. Then you have some not so known songs like Blood in the Water by Catch Your Breath and Anunnaki by Silent Planet. When I tell you that metal music fueled my book, it’s no lie.

What is Dirty Little Fairy Tale ~ Origin about exactly?

Below is the blurb you can find on Kindle and Amazon.

Arya lives in a supernatural world where she is surrounded by vampires, werewolves, witches and so much more. She has no idea what she's getting herself into when she discovers there is more to her than meets the eye. It's then she discovers that she is meant to save the world from a demonic takeover.

And that is the short version of it. The layers of the story go deep. There are subplots no matter what way you look at it. There are paranormal aspects, supernatural aspects, and lots and lots of spicy material. It took me roughly about five years to write the book due to life getting in the way. I did my own publishing through Amazon and Kindle. With spicy material in the book, they do not allow marketing on their platform (which is unfortunate), so this me, doing my own marketing.

The book is releasing on Amazon and Kindle platforms on 11/11/24. Book two (Dirty Little Fairy Tale is a series) has already begun. The Curse of Cain will arrive in 2025! Go grab a copy of this already much anticipated book in what looks to be a very thrilling and spicy series.

[senditcolton]

so this wasn't a request but I went off on the last blurb (that will be published shortly) and made a playlist to go along with it. so tiff - @smileysvech - consider this your sneak peek into the Prince Andrei content you are about to receive (transcript under the cut like always)

I Found (Acoustic) by Amber Run

Castles Crumbling by Taylor Swift

Another Life: Motion Picture Collection by Motionless in White

The Call by Regina Spektor

Timeless by Taylor Swift

[descentintobandom]

“Hold Me in Your Arms” - Chris Motionless Blurb

A/N - I didn’t have enough for a full one-shot, so I settled for a blurb.

Chris entered the house.

Alexa could tell that something was off with him, because he walked straight past her and into his home studio. He always kissed her when he came home. Had she done something?

She got up and padded into the home studio.

Chris sat at his mix table with his head in his hands.

“Chris?” she asked.

He didn’t answer her.

As she got closer to him, she could see he was shaking. Alexa wrapped her arms around his neck from behind and kissed his hair.

A small sob escaped his lips at the tender gesture.

Alexa didn’t ask what was wrong or why he was crying, she just held him. “Chris, come to bed.” Alexa knew he needed to eat something, but he was too emotional right now. She helped him to stand up they went into the bedroom.

Chris laid down, not even bothering to change out of his clothes.

Alexa laid down next to him and wrapped her arms around him.

Chris’ body shook as he let out his emotions.

Alexa said nothing as she stroked his hair and hummed a random tune.

Eventually Chris fell asleep, his head buried in her stomach.

[heythereangels]

enough for now

(blurb)

pairing: harry potter x fem!reader

word count: .2k

a/n: i haven't written a thing in months and suddenly i get the urge to produce something. @railmeharrypotter consider this a little new years gift to you. ilysm <33

she was so close. he could feel the warmth from her hand as they walked against the cold. he thought about reaching out to intertwine their fingers. he thought about stroking the side of her palm with his thumb. and yet his hand stayed motionless.

"the snow's pretty" harry heard her voice from beside him. he turned his head to find her eyes looking upward, little dots of white powder sprinkled in her hair.

"yeah, pretty" he replied, never looking away her face. her eyes reflected the sparkle the snow as she nuzzled her nose into her scarf.

"are you cold?" harry asked, completely ready to strip himself of his coat in case she was.

"i'm okay" she answered "do you want to head back?" but at harry's disappointed face in reaction to her proposal she offered an alternative "or we could stay here"

harry nodded his head to the ladder "i'd like to stay"

so they stayed, watching the snow continue to paint the trees with a white blanket as time passed by.

after a while, harry spotted a couple walking passed them back towards the shops. they had their hands interlocked and their arms swung back and forth as they made their way down the path.

harry's hand twitched towards hers, but he stopped himself. he wasn't ready for that yet. he wasn't ready to jump into something new.

slowly, harry's hand drifted closer and closer to the warmth of hers until finally he curled his pinky to interlock with hers.

he heard her breath a content sigh beside him and he could picture the little smile that was surely forming on her face.

he wanted more. he wanted all of her. but this was enough for now.

--

[koolkat9]

For the make a blurb thing, 👄 first kiss and 🚪showing up at the others door for comfort with prupan please?

Oooh okay! Thank you!

👄  sharing their first kiss

🚪  showing up at the other’s door, begging for comfort

No Time Like the Present

Kiku awoke with a gasp, reaching out into the darkness for someone though he was all alone in his hotel room. Right, his hotel room. Not the 1990s in Germany, caring for a sickly nation who was on the verge of death. He took a few deep breaths, looking around the room, assuring himself that he was safe and that everything was okay. 

He laid back down when he felt a little calmer, but sleep still elude him and he couldn’t get out of his mind the image of a man with snow white hair laying motionless in his bed, breath slow and weak, frame so small and thin, face emotionless and hallow.  He knew Gilbert was fine and this was no more than a memory coming back to haunt him, but at this rate he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep. Perhaps he could just go and check on the man to be sure. 

As Kiku walked down the hall towards Gilbert’s room, guilt began to sink in. Gilbert was one to stay up late and have a terrible sleep schedule in general, but maybe this time he had went to be early and Kiku would be waking him up. Maybe he should turn back. Then again he was already at the room. After a minute or two of internal debate, he decided to just knock. 

“Oh hey Kiku,” Gilbert greeting. If he had been asleep, he didn’t showing considering how boisterous and alert he seemed. “What are you doing up at this time?”

“Uh...W-Well um...It’s silly really but...” 

“Your eyes look a little red.” Gilbert’s smile fell into a serious frown as he looked over his friend. Hands came to rest on Kiku’s shoulders as he was turned and jostled around as Gilbert inspected him for any physical damage. 

“I-I’m alright,” Kiku stuttered out, feeling his face heat up. “Just a little nightmare is all. I-I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Gilbert stopped his analysis, turning Kiku once more so they were facing each other. “Ah, one of those dreams huh?”

Kiku simply nodded. 

“Welp, you can come in for a bit and calm down. That always helps Ludwig. Having the person nearby helps you know?”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t going to bed any time soon anyways.”

Kiku hesitantly took a step inside. When he stood awkwardly in the entrance way, Gilbert placed a hand on his back and began to push him towards the bed to sit down. Kiku tensed under the touch. 

“Shit sorry. I should have warned you.”

“I-Its fine. It just surprised me is all.”

 Gilbert gave him an apologetic smile as Kiku took a seat. “Would you like tea or anything?” he asked, leaning against the desk. 

“I’m good, but thank you.”

“Do you want to talk about your dream, it may make you feel better.”

“I-I rather not. It’s not so bad now.” Kiku let out an awkward laugh. “I’m just getting worked up over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Gilbert said, turning very serious. His red eyes pierced into Kiku making him tense. 

“S-Sorry...But I’d rather not think of it.”

Gilbert joined him on the bed. “Are you sure.”

“Mhm. Frankly, I barely remember any of the details, so I’m okay.”

“Good.”

The two lapsed into silence. For once Gilbert was at a lose for words and Kiku couldn’t help but smile at the facial expressions the former nation made as he tried to figure out what to say. Without really thinking, Kiku leaned forward, brushing a few strands of hair out of the way before placing a kiss on Gilbert’s cheek. “Thank you,” he murmured, pulling away awkwardly. 

Gilbert’s quickly looked away, face flushed a deep red. “Uh...N-No problem.” 

“D-Do you mind if I stay here tonight.” Normally Kiku wouldn’t be this forward, but perhaps it was his lack of sleep that brought down his walls. That or his dream had shaken him more than he wanted to admit, making him realize that life, even for a mostly immortal being like themselves could be unpredictable. He wanted to make the most of it and he would start with making his feelings known.