#blown over stump removal | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mrfandomgage · 2 years ago

Text

"So how are we doing this?" Mr Fandom asks, "Human, right?"

"We can put on a better show than that", Ms Fandom responds, "besides, you better hit me harder than you did last time!"

"You won by a fluke, and we know it".

"Prove it tough guy".

The two Gages stand across from each other. Facing down each other in a clearing, while Chara watches from a stump at the edge.

"Hey, are you two going to fight or what?" Chara shouts, waiting for them to begin.

"Yeah, are we gonn-", Ms Fandom says, before being interrupted. The palm of a hand wrapping over her mouth, her body lifting into the air, and her skull cracking. Bleeding into the soil.

Mr Fandom whispers, "let's give him a show". His body flies back, impaling him onto a tree through his chest. His right arm missing only for it to impale him through his stomach. His eyes dull for a moment, his body still human. A wide smile and laugh eminate from his body.

Ms Fandom rises up, laughing herself. Laughing as much as she can before her jaw vanishes in a mist of red before Mr Fandom, standing there, the strings of his own blood reforming his right arm in a matter of seconds. His body smashes into the ground, his ribs clearly flattening. She raises her foot and crushes his skull, her jaw reforming in the process.

Chara, shaken up from the display asks, "You, you won right?"

Ms Fandom responds, "what? We haven't eve-". Her body splits in half. One side torched, falling to the ground, the other frozen solid. Mr Fandom stands up, his clothes torn, his body healed.

"We aren't tired yet", Rings a hollowed voice. Mr Fandom's throat splits open, as a charred hand rises to the frozen body. As his body chokes on blood, her burnt hand busts his head over the ice. Instead of breaking down while he can't breathe, he smashes his own head against the ice, breaking her out.

Mr Fandom falls to the floor, and vomits what he can out of him, coughing and hacking out what he can. Ms Fandom reforms and summons a fire axe, chopping his head down the middle. She goes to a side and reforms her burnt and frosted dress, falling on her knees trying to get a breath. Mr Fandom stands up pulling the axe out of his head. Placing the halves back together. Swinging the axe around, it becomes a sledge hammer, the size of the hammer head grows to a comically large size, large enough to crush a full grown human.

Mr Fandom advances, in absolute silence. Not a twig or a branch makes a noise as he approaches. Ms Fandom throws up, trying to retch the blood out of her system. He raises the hammer, with her noticing the shadow before knowing he was already behind her. As she looks up, she tries blocking it with her arms. It meant nothing, as her body was flattened into a puddle, with a faint popping noise from under the hammer. Mr Fandom tosses the hammer, making a miniature crater behind him. Gage falls forward catching himself on his own knees trying to breath. Returning upright he looks up into the air, a partially cloudy, sunny day in winter.

Hands crawl out of the puddle, reforming muscle structure of the limbs around them as they move. A body starts to form, covered in dirt and gore. As it forms its head, it turns around, a gun appearing in one hand, with a solid Click. Mr Fandom looks down, a spine lying in pooling blood, with muscle draping her right side, dirt covered skin attempting to boil over her left hand pointing the gun. Her face, barely an eye, and brain, crammed into a crudely carved out skull with supporting muscle. Her chest was still torn open, where he could see she had no lungs. He knew she'd be hyperventilating this moment with them, so she didn't make them just to shoot him. He smiles, like a Cheshire Cat.

A hole is blown through him, removing his chest. As his body flies back, his open wound catches the hammer, splitting him in half. His remains hit a tree, splattering it in gore, as the rest of what's left flies into the wood.

Silence.

Five minutes pass in silence.

Ms Fandom gets up, and stumbles closer to the woods. She leans onto the hammer for a rest. From the wood, Mr Fandom shambles closer. They get closer to each other. He takes the first swing, where she blocks it and gives him a blow to his stomach. He returns the favor, pulling her hair down and socking her across the face, forcing her back, and away. As they move to get to each other, they fall to the ground, tripping on the floor below. They both groan, attempting to get up. As she tries to push herself up, he reaches out, and slams her head into the dirt. He pushes on her head to get back up to stand. He limps to the hammer for support as he watches her. In one final act of the fight, she hits the ground with her palm three times.

With a course and rough voice, Mr Fandom says, "I... win..."

He falls to his knees, holding onto the hammer raising his arm to flag down Chara. His sight darkens. His body shuts down. Last seeing Chara slowly approaching.

Mr Fandom awakens. It's darker out, with a decent fire next to him keeping him warm.

"H-h-how...", Chara coughs, readjusting, "how are you?"

Ms Fandom replies, in a gravelly voice, "he's still tired. We both feel like shit", she tries clearing her throat to no avail, "it'll be a while".

Mr Fandom looks at her. Her nose is bleeding. With a striking pain in his arm, he creates a handkerchief. He reaches it out to Ms Fandom.

Ms Fandom takes it from him, replying, "please don't do that to yourself, we both know it hurts".

"How?" Chara asks, "Aren't they separate from you?"

"That's not what I said, I said they're different".

"Well, how does that hurt?"

"Imagine having sore legs and walking with them".

"That, would suck".

Chara reaches into his wallet, and hands Mr Fandom the $50 he promised. Ms Fandom cleans up her face. When the Gages fall asleep, Chara tends to the fire, with burning memories.

#undertale #chara #chara undertale #gage fandom

0 notes

dreamqueenkala · 2 years ago

Text

ENOUGH

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

Warnings: Making-Out; Anal Penetration; Unprotected Sex; Dry Humping; Teasing; Aggressive Sex; Slight Manhandling; Groping; Temporary Spanking; Fingering; Oral (Male Receiving); Creampie; Multiple Rounds(Implied)

Male Reader x Dylan Lenivy

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

“O-One more time?” Dylan sat in front of me, eyes wide and lips parted, the utmost expression of both disbelief and shock on his pale face as he stammered his request. His brown eyes were dull, dazed as he registered my words, right hand gripping in his lap on the opposite couch whilst his left stump was pressed to his chest. Blinking, he shook his head lightly and reached up to ruffle his soft brown locks.

“I think we should take a break.” I shrank back at the absolute heartbroken dullness in his eyes, gnawing at my lower lip and toying with the hem of my shirt. His fingers clawed to his lap, gripping his knees as he lowered his head and laughed humorlessly.

“Why?”

“I-I…I’m not good enough for you—you deserve someone better, Dyl—“

“Why the fuck do you get to decide that!?”

I yelped, his raised voice startling me as I shrank back against the sofa. His pupils were blown and his teeth gritted as he glared at his lap, knuckles white from the grip he had on his knee.

“You’re more than enough for me, (Y/N)! You make me happy! What makes you think you’re not perfect to me?” He hissed, voice trembling and shoulders quaking. His hair was ruffled and covering his eyes from my view, though I could tell from his voice he was hurting. “Why…why do you think you’re not worth it? W-What did I…d-do?” I bit my lip and reaches over, grasping his hand and stump gently as they trembled. My own (E/C) eyes stung with tears, sniffling softly as I squeezed his hand.

“I-I just…y-you’re missing a hand, Dyl! A-And I’m not strong enough t-to help you…I couldn’t p-protect you from those t-things, I-I—“ I closed my eyes, recoiling from his grasp and pushing back into the sofa I sat on. Soft sniffles and hiccups left me, my fingers rubbing at my eyes mercilessly.

A soft, familiar hand cupped my face, thumb wiping the tears from my face gently. Blinking softly, I sniffled and peered up at the brunette I’d grown to love, lower lip quivering. His eyes were sad, nose brushing mine as he kissed and licked at my cheeks and jaw, fingers caressing my cheekbone gently. Nuzzling my neck, he kissed my skin softly and moved to kneel between my legs.

“Baby, it’s okay. I know it hurts, but I’m so much better when I’m with you. I’m so happy with you here, baby.” Dylan murmured, holding my face in his palm and nuzzling his nose with mine. “I love you, you know that? Let me show you how good you are for me…?”

I hiccuped and nodded slowly, letting the brunette guide me onto my feet and down the hall to our bedroom. His one hand pulled me in by my hips, lips finding mine in a gentle caress. The frail fingers of his right hand slipped under my shirt, trailing over my abdomen and lighting a fire beneath skin wherever he touched. I shivered and snakes my arms around his neck, standing on my toes to press into him more. He exhaled softly against my lips, hand slipping higher til his thumb brushed my left nipple, pinching the soft peak lightly.

I gasped and Dylan smiled against my lips, slipping his tongue between my parted lips and caressing the warm appendage in my own mouth. His hips ground against mine, his left arm curled around my waist to hold me close. Tilting his head, he groaned as our crotches rubbed together, the tent in his jeans pressed against the tent in mine.

“(Y/N), you’re so cute.” The tall brunette mumbled, gaining another whine from me as he tweaked my nipple and rolled it lightly. “Such cute sounds.” His hand slid down, removing itself from my shirt only to tug the fabric over my head and toss it away. I hissed as the cold air met my (S/C) skin, nipples erect and chest heaving. Leaning back, Dylan gazed down into my (E/C) eyes with blown pupils, his cheeks flushed and his lips slightly swollen from the kiss.

“You’re so sexy.” He mumbled, leaning in to suckle at my throat, a sharp moan leaving me. I tilted my head back and fumbled with his shirt, dragging it up and over his head desperately. “So sweet. So kind.” Each word carried another round of kisses, licks and soft nibbles. His left arm hooked around my waist, guiding my hips forward as he rubbed against me. His right hand slid down over my waist and, dipping past the denim, began to toy with the hard-on beneath my briefs.

“D-Dylan!” I mewled, bucking against his hand as he thumbed at my tip, cock twitching at his touch. The tall male chuckled against my throat, teeth lightly scraping over my Adam’s apple. My palms pressed flat against his chest, fingertips lightly tracing the scars from the quarry.

“Look at you, so needy, so desperate. What do you want, baby?” He cooed, his hips rutting against mine again whilst he continued to palm me. I shivered and whimpered, my teeth drawing my lower lip in as a sharp whine left me. “Use your words, handsome.”

“M-More, please!” I mewled, (H/C) locks disheveled and forehead lined with a thin sheen of sweat. The closeted nerd leaned back, his much taller frame towering over me with a cocky smirk on his pale, beautiful face.

“More what? Tell me, (Y/N).” I whined and rutted against his palm as he squeezed the outline of my cock, his left arm holding my hips in place. “Look down, (Y/N). This is what you do to me.”

My (E/C) eyes flashed down to his hips, his cock throbbing beneath his pants and pressing into my hipbone. He rutted against me again, groaning lowly at the friction whilst never removing his gaze from my face.

“You make me feel so good. So happy. So loved. So—fuck!—s-so fucking horny.” His words stumbled between his panting, hips rolling more fervently and his hand sliding around to grip at my ass. Squeezing the soft flesh, he yanked me forward til I toppled against his chest, his stature and strength enough for him to lift me up and toss me over his right shoulder. I yelped, clinging to his back tightly as he placed his right hand over my rear again, carrying me to the bed only to toss me onto the mattress.

My back hit the soft yet firm object with a soft thump, a gasp leaving me, my body bouncing slightly. Dylan was quick to climb over me, his lips immediately attaching themselves to my chest. His tongue swirled around my right nipple, lips sucking lightly as his soft brown curls fluttered in front of his face. I mewled and reached up to tug at his hair, thighs clenching beneath him at the groan he released. I bucked my hips up and felt his handless arm slip under my back, forcing me to arch against him. His long legs stretched out and he rutted his hips against mine, toying with me.

“D-Dylan—“

“That’s not my name, babe.” I swallowed at the deep tone of voice he took on, his teeth nipping at the skin beneath my nipples and his right hand slipping into my pants to palm my bare ass.

“S-Sugar.” He grinned, leaning up to press his lips to my cheek gently.

“Good boy.”

It was an odd nickname, I know, but it’s the one we settled on a long time ago. Dylan’s always been a sweetheart, joking nature aside. His empathetic soul and heart of gold had him putting others ahead of himself no matter the situation, even during that last night at the quarry. Because of that, and the kindness and affection he’d shown me, and partly due to my southern-raised nature, I took to calling him Sugar. At first, he was flustered and confused, but after the first few times he grew to adore the pet name, and after we started dating, it took a deeper meaning. It wasn’t just a nickname, but a title. To him, Sugar was a name of absolute adoration and love, and he never allowed anyone to call him that but me. It was special, a reminder of the love we had.

Dylan’s hand flipping me onto my hands and knees knocked me from my thoughts, a sharp gasp leaving me as he dragged my pants down my legs. “Look at you, clenching around nothing. Need me that bad, huh, baby?” I whined and flushed at the chuckle he released, his right hand kneading the soft (S/C) of my ass. “So beautiful, and all mine.” I buried my face in my pillow as his tongue dipped past my rim, a deep moan leaving him and mingling with the squeak that left me. Glancing down between my legs, I watched his hips rut against the bed, the tent in his jeans painfully taut and both his boxers and jeans stained with his precum.

“F-Fuck—“ I yelped as a sharp slap rang through the room, my ass stinging where he smacked me. Biting my lip, I felt tears of both pleasure and overstimulation build in my eyes, ass clenching around his fingers that had replaced his tongue.

“Language. What do we say, baby boy?”

“S-Sorry Sugar.”

“Good.” A soft nip to my reddened flesh had me mewling gently, toes curling in my socks and hips rutting against his hand. “So needy, fucking yourself on my fingers. You’re so hot.” Panting, I rolled my hips and arched my back, knowing how much he loved to watch me bend and squirm for him. His hungry groan confirmed that thought, his mouth suddenly latching to my taint and licking at my balls.

“S-Shit, fuck—!” I squealed, thighs quivering desperately at the sudden stimulation. Dylan hated when I cursed, usually because it was something I’d developed after the events in August, a bad habit that indicated extreme emotional stress or—in this case—lust. The tall teen immediately pulled away from me, leaning over my back with a glare in his eyes. He yanked me back by my hair, forcing me to make eye contact as he hovered behind me.

“What the fuck did I say?” My eyes widened feeling his hips pressed against my ass. “Do you need me to show you how important you are to me? Huh? Or do you need me to shut that pretty little dirty mouth of yours first?” Bucking back against him I panted, pupils blown and chest heaving.

“‘M sorry, Sugar. ‘M so s-sorry! I’ll s-stop, please!” Dylan sneered at me and slammed my face into my pillow, keeping it pinned with his left arm. I could hear the buckle of his jeans coming undone and the fabric falling to his knees. His tip prodded at my hole and I whimpered softly, gripping the sheets as his bare chest pressed to my back.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll never think you’re anything less than perfect for me.” Dylan growled into my ear, and before I could reply, his hips thrusted forward. A shriek left me as he bottomed out immediately, the brunette bucking so hard against me I could hear the bed frame creak and the headboard slam into the wall. He growled and grunted and groaned, teeth nipping at my shoulder. His arms were on either side of my head to hold himself up, both of us slicked with sweat.

Tilting my head, I leaned over and pressed my lips to his left wrist, his breathe hitching in his throat. “I love you.” I mumbled, tears slowly rolling down my face from both the pleasure and the guilt. “I’m sorry. I love you so much.” Dylan smiled against my neck, peppering sweet kisses to my throat and fucking me a little faster, my own cock brushing against the bedsheets.

“I love you, too, baby boy. All mine, so good for me.” He cooed, earning soft babbles from the praise. My eyes rolled back and I drooled into the bedsheets, fingers digging into my pillow as he buried himself further in me. The brunettes cockhead battered my prostate, causing me to squeal as my vision went white. My cock throbbed and the sheets beneath me were suddenly drenched, my body trembling whilst my boyfriend fucked me through my high.

Turning my head, Dylan pressed his lips to mine and sucked on my tongue, bucking his hips harder. Tears of overstimulation poured from my eyes and I whimpered against him weakly. His hips stuttered and suddenly he was deep inside me, filling me with his warm seed as he panted against me.

We slumped like that, still connected as he leaned over me, his nose brushing mine. I barely got a few minutes to breathe before his right hand snaked around my hips, calloused fingers curling around my cock. I gasped breathlessly, peeking back at him as Dylan smiled mischievously, his hips slowly pulling back.

“I’m not done with you, yet, baby boy. I’m gonna fuck you til your addicted to my cock.” His hips bucked forward and I yelped, his fist squeezing my cock. “I’m never letting you go, baby. You’re perfect to me.”

Our intimacy continued through the evening and the night, leaving me slightly bruised, weak, lovedrunk and dazed the next morning, swaddled in my boyfriends embrace. I’m pretty convinced, now, that I’m more than enough for Dylan. After all, he’s more than enough for me.

363 notes · View notes

helliontherapscallion · 3 years ago

Text

Yellow Carnations (Destiny Written in Begonias Part 1)

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Summary: After hearing something deep within the woods, you give into curiosity and investigate. Who knows, whatever you find could be a prize.

Warnings: Swearing, slightly graphic violence (just some zombies getting dismembered)

Word count: 3,715

(A/N): So, welcome to my new series! I have so many ideas for this that I’d love to write. This story will be very gay, fluffy, and sorta angsty, so buckle up my children!

So just a lil background info: the reader is Techno’s adopted daughter. She is a piglin hybrid, but she is more human looking than piglin. This takes place about eighteen years after the most recent events of the SMP.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Techno, I think we have enough ender pearls for tonight.” You glanced to your side to look at your father and Philza, the enchantments of their armor glowing dimly in the moonlight and the orange light of the torches in their hands. Philza stretched his body and his wings out, a small groan escaping his mouth and small cracks sounding from his joints.

“The night’s still young, Phil!” Technoblade grinned, his gold capped canines glinting slightly. His hand moved to gently rest on the handle of his sword.

You snorted to yourself, “you two, however, aren’t.” A small shove came from your side making you stumble slightly, laughter bubbling from your throat.

“I’m just going to pretend that I didn’t hear anything,” Philza crossed his arms and looked off to the side. Though, you could hear a smile in his tone and the beginnings of a chuckle.

“I’m sorry,” you chuckled, “Dad set me up for that one. The opportunity was too good to pass up.”

“I’ll set you up for longer training sessions if you keep going for… ‘opportunities’ like that.” He glanced down at you with amusement glinting in his eyes and tugging at the corner of his lips.

His statement, though lighthearted, immediately made you stop laughing. You knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t joking; the last time you laughed it off you had to endure two extra hours on top of the four hour sessions you had daily. By the end of the punishment, your arms felt like they were going to fall off.

“No! I take it back, you guys are young! Not a single-”

“You’re digging yourself an early grave if you finish that sentence, kid. Besides, you can’t pass up opportunities like these!”

“I think I’m good for now,” you shivered slightly when a breeze blew past you. It was starting to grow colder as the night dragged on. Technoblade, noticing this, wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him securely. Though the Blood God never shows mercy, he couldn’t let his only child succumb to a head cold; that’d just be barbaric.

You jumped at the feeling of the freezing netherite making contact with your bare arm. “Sorry,” he murmured sheepishly, “forgot how cold the armor is… We should probably head back, it’s getting cold.”

As your family started to make their way back towards the tundra, banter was exchanged between the three. The journey out of the forest was uneventful, only a few mobs had attempted to attack or sneak behind you. Just as you reached the edge of the forest, a noise caught your attention.

It sounded like it was only a couple of minutes away; so faint that if you weren’t actively listening for it, it would have nearly been lost in the night. If you strained your ears, you could hear the trampling of dry leaves making you assume that there were several people or animals in that area. Alongside it, there was a faint whimpering.

Your curiosity was piqued, just what was making that noise?

“(Y/n), is everything alright?” You looked back at Philza. It seemed that they walked a bit away from you while you stopped at the forest’s edge to listen to the sound.

You absentmindedly nodded, “yeah, Uncle Phil. I think I left my bow back in that clearing when we were taking a break so I’m just going to go grab that. You guys can keep going home, I’ll be right behind you.”

“We can go with you-”

“No, you don’t have to. I’m old enough to go alone.”

Philza and Technoblade then spoke at the same time, “alright, we’ll just meet you there.” “Absolutely not.”

Philza elbowed Technoblade’s side lightly and looked up at him. They were silently communicating with pointed looks and pursed lips, every expression understood completely by the other. You never understood how they did that, even if they raised you. You could remember making a journal dedicated to deciphering their expressions, but you never could truly understand it (that, and ‘nose scrunch and eye narrow’ meant multiple things).

Eventually, Technoblade’s shoulders slumped and he ran a hand down his face tiredly, “you know the rules?”

You rolled your eyes, “of course I do. Fight to win, go for the throat, if you lose your weapon go for the pressure points. You remind me daily.”

He stared at you for a moment before his ear flicked, “don’t take long, we’ll be waiting.” They both turned and started to trudge towards the spruce forest in the distance.

Without a second thought, you ran into the forest with your ears perked. Following the noise was easy, the whimpers had turned into high pitched whines. You leapt over stumps and ducked under low hanging branches as they blocked your way; nothing was going to stop you from finding out what was making that noise.

Eventually, you broke through the trees and found yourself in a grassy clearing surrounded by large stones. If it were spring, you’d imagine wildflowers sprouting everywhere you stepped. A small spring sat in the furthest corner of it, waterfalls cascading over the jagged stones and crashing into the water below. Near the cliffside, a hoard of groaning zombies swarmed something and they were closing in on it. Now, what was it they were attacking?

You quickly unsheathed your golden sword and sprinted towards the hoard. The crunching of the dried, colorful leaves under your feet was enough to drag the zombies’ attention to you.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you made your first swipe at one of their torsos. In an instant, the zombie was bisected and fell to the ground. With a twirl, you slashed at multiple zombies at once. They all collapsed to the ground as their rotting flesh was torn and couldn’t support their crumbling bodies any longer.

As soon as all of the zombies were laying dead on the ground, you wiped your blade off on one of their torn tunics and sheathed it. Taking a step back to look at the bodies littered on the floor, you smirked; this was too easy.

Now, without the obstacles, your prize awaits you. Eagerly, you looked over to see what the zombies were swarming. Instead of the scared villager you were expecting, the person that stood there completely took your breath away.

The woman was wearing a simple white dress with a baby blue shawl shadowing the upper part of her face. Her skin was fair and her face was round, a button nose laid in the center of her face and plump pink lips slightly parted showing off straight white teeth. Curly dark brown hair framed the sides of her face and spiraled down to rest on her shoulders.

She was tall for a human, about five-foot-ten if you were to estimate. Her hands moved to clasp in front of her elegantly, your eyes catching sight of light blue nailpolish decorating her perfectly shaped nails.

Red was starting to dust her cheeks and her breathing was starting to return to normal. That was good, at least she wasn’t going into shock. For someone who nearly got eaten alive by the undead, she looked relatively calm and well put together.

“Are you alright?” You tried to keep your voice even, but there was a light wobble to it. You thickly swallowed, cursing yourself for showing any emotion in front of this stranger. The mask that hid the upper part of your face gave you a sense of security and safety, it hid most of your emotion.

You saw her lips move, but no sound came out. Were you going deaf like your father? You shouldn’t be; you haven’t blown up an entire nation yet. You stepped closer in hopes of hearing her better, “excuse me?”

Her lips curled up into a smile, dimples appearing on her cheeks, “Oh, I just said that I’m fine, nothing else. May I get the name of my knight in shining armor?”

Her voice was soft and light. Though it was on the deeper side, it had feminine, euphonious undertones; it was like honey was dripping out with every word she spoke. Just by the way she spoke, you assumed that she came from the nearby kingdom.

You smirked, playing along with the small game she was setting up. Stepping closer and kneeling, you grabbed her hand and brought it to your lips. Her hands were soft and velvety, a part of you longed to hold it in yours all day long.

Against her knuckles, you spoke, “(Y/n) Blade at your service. And you, my fairest lady?”

“Princess Helen Dahlia Eret, but please, call me Dahlia; Helen was my mother. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

You snorted, she was really dedicated to this game. You’d just play along with her, why not? It’s not like you have anything else to do. “Well, princess, it’s about time for you to head back to your castle.”

You looked up at her through your eyelashes and caught sight of the outline of her shadowed features. You could see her purse her lips, “you think I’m lying, don’t you?”

“Forgive me for thinking so, your highness!” You snickered, “the princess shall not step foot outside of her chambers, lest a scrape shall mar her flawless skin!”

She smirked before placing a delicate finger underneath your chin, tilting it upwards. You could feel your face grow hot as she removed her shawl. Ivory white eyes stared back at you smugly, sending a shock through your body. You weren’t sure if the jolt you felt was from her beauty or from the fact that she wasn’t lying.

“Would you like to try again, my knight?” She cooed to you, her other hand coming down to rest on your cheek. You stood up and gaped at her, “oh fuck, you’re actually the princess.”

A part of you wanted to dislike her for her title and for the royal blood that coursed through her veins. That blood tainted her, filling every nook and cranny with vile corruption. “All governments are bad,” Technoblade had taught you early on in your life, “they should, under no circumstances, be trusted.”

Though her parent Eret had been a fair king, always attending to the needs of their people, you were anticipating their corruption. If your memory serves you right, they were the one that betrayed the revolutionaries during the L’manberg Revolution simply because of their thirst for power. If they were a power hungry traitor before, who’s to say that they won’t be blinded by it again?

Every fiber in your body screamed at you to sink your sword through her abdomen to put her down, just like the bloodthirsty hounds that hailed long before her. You could just end her right now, make it quick and just leave her body here. It’d be easy and it would bring chaos to the SMP Kingdom, causing mass paranoia and tearing it apart from within. It’d be delicious, something that would give you a high you’d ride for years. You wanted to paint the grass with her blood, but something deep within you protested.

Filthy blood nourished her body, but that didn’t take away from her sheer and complete beauty or the way she covered her mouth with a delicate hand to hide her laugh. That did not take away from how she had cupped your cheek moments before, your skin still tingled where her hand was. That didn’t suppress the butterflies that fluttered wildly in your stomach when she stepped into the moonlight.

She put her hand out and smiled, “won’t you accompany me to my castle, my faithful warrior?” You merely put on a cold, uncaring facade and side stepped her.

“...You got yourself here, yes? You can find your way back.”

“Well you see,” she moved to rub the back of her neck and awkwardly chuckled, “I was hoping you know the way back?”

You couldn’t stop the snort that escaped your mouth, something about her made her irresistible. “You’ve got to be kidding me, you just ran blindly into a forest?”

“Hey, you would too if you were being chased by zombies!”

“Excuse me, who was the one that just slaughtered said zombies in under a minute?” You raised an eyebrow and looked down at her.

“I don’t have a sword like you do,” she crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at you.

“Even then, I doubt you know how to use one. Here,” you unsheathed the large sword and held it out to her, “I bet you can’t even hold it up.”

“Can too!” She protested before snatching the sword out of your hands. She grunted slightly at the heavy weight, almost dropping it, but she quickly steadied it. Looking up at you with a smug, slightly reddened face, she shook slightly. “See? It’s not that hard.”

You quirked an eyebrow beneath your mask, “oh really?”

“Y-yep,” was all she managed to choke out before she stepped back and dropped the tip. It swung down and buried itself inside the dirt below, scouring the earth as it made contact.

Smirking at her, you took it back with ease, putting it back into its sheath slung around your back. You once again stepped around her and started walking in the other direction.

“Where are you going?!”

“To the castle, you said you wanted me to take you home.”

She rushed to your side and grabbed your arm with both of her hands. They snaked around your bicep and tangled themselves in your cape. You could feel yourself soar at the contact; you had to fight against every instinct to hook your arm with hers. You ripped yourself out of her embrace and put some distance between the both of you.

She crossed her arms and hugged herself, shivering slightly, “how are you not cold?!”

“It’s barely cold out here,” you mentally scolded yourself for being a hypocrite, “you’ll be fine.”

She said nothing and continued to walk. As you got further and further into the forest, she merely started shivering more. You could hear her teeth chattering loudly and could see goosebumps decorating the skin on her bare arms. Sighing, you unhooked your cape and slung it over her shoulders.

She squeaked in surprise at the feeling before realizing that you gave her your cape. She grabbed the edges and pulled it closer to her before snuggling deeper into the cloth; you could feel your heart explode at the small sigh that she let out and the content hum that left her mouth. Just as she looked up at you, you made quick work of looking away. The ground was very fascinating at the moment.

“Thank you,” she murmured. You just curtly nodded, avoiding looking at her.

The walk to the castle was short, luckily she hadn’t run far from her home. Just as the castle walls were in your sights, she tried holding your arm again. Once again, you stepped away from her.

“C’mon,” she chuckled, “I don’t bite.”

“Well I do. You really need to learn not to trust a stranger, princess.”

“Well, we aren’t strangers. We know each other’s names, do we not? And besides, I bet you’re just a massive teddy bear.”

“I don’t know what your teddy bears looked like as a kid, but they certainly weren’t me. If I wanted to, I could take your hand clean off with a single twist and pull,” you growled out. She was silent once more as she led you towards a specific part of the castle.

“...Why are you so defensive? At least treat me like you did before we knew each other!” She unhooked the cape and shoved it towards you. You gladly took it and put it back on. To your sheer embarrassment, you felt joy as you caught a whiff of books and expensive perfume. It smelled like her.

“...I could’ve just left you back there if I wanted to, consider this a favor. Respect is earned, not given. Even to royalty.”

You turned to leave, you cape swishing behind you as you turned. Before you could walk off, a hand on your arm stopped you. “Wait. Even if you’re a massive jerk,” she sighed out, “I still have to thank you. So, thank you for saving my life; I’m indebted to you, my douchey knight.”

She leant up on the tips of her toes and gently placed her lips on your cheek. You froze and watched as she turned on her heel. She walked towards the entrance with several glances back at you, some of them being smug and others being questioning. It was like you were entranced underneath the veil of a spell, unable to move until she disappeared from sight.

The walk home was quiet with no mobs sneaking up on you. The entire time, the memory of her kissing your cheek replayed endlessly in your head. Though the very thing you disliked more than anything was embodied in her, you couldn’t help but fall for the natural charm she had. You were probably just tired, it was getting late into the night after all.

As you walked through the door, you could see Technoblade impatiently waiting for you on the couch. He had a book open in his hand and his half-rimmed glasses were perched on the bridge of his snout.

“You’re late.”

“Sorry, I just ran into more mobs than I anticipated.”

Technoblade said nothing as his eyes flickered over your body, looking for even the smallest of scrapes. When he didn’t find anything, he nodded to himself and stood up. Tiredly, he walked over to you and ruffled your hair before trudging to his room.

“Are you sure the only thing you ran into was mobs?”

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “just a lot of zombies.”

He rolled his eyes and gave you a knowing smile before walking over to you. He swiped his thumb across your cheek and showed it to you. It was stained with a light pink color. “In all of the centuries I spent living in this world, not once have I seen a zombie wearing pink lipstick or,” he took your cape in his hand and sniffed it slightly, “cherry scented perfume.”

Your face exploded in heat as you made hasty work of scrubbing your cheek making the older man laugh quietly at you, “all you’re doing is smudging it all over your face. Some warm water and soap will get it off fast… Now, wanna tell me who gave you that?”

You stared at his smug expression and quickly came to the realization that he wouldn’t let this go unless you told him. Or, at least until you told him what happened.

You sighed and started to remove your armor, placing it on the armor stand situated between Philza’s and Technoblade’s armor. You had insisted that the armor stands were in this specific order, it just made sense with the height differences between the members of the household. Since you were between Philza’s and Technoblade’s height at 6’4 (and still growing), it made sense with the order of the armor in terms of size.

You made your way over to the couch and sat down with a sigh, Philza following suit. He gave you a reassuring smile, “whenever you’re ready.”

So you told him everything that had happened that day. Needless to say, Philza was happy for you, asking you questions about the interaction.

“It sounds like she’s perfect for you, kiddo.”

“That’s the thing, Uncle Phil. She isn’t,” you ran a hand down your face and leaned back onto the back of the couch, your head resting on the top of the cushion. You heard Philza shift slightly before he grabbed your hand.

“Now,” he asked gently, “what makes you think that?”

“She’s King Eret’s daughter. Helen Dahlia Eret,” you sardonically chuckled, “I really thought she was just joking when she said ‘princess’.” Every part of you wished that that was a joke. That she would laugh and tell you that it was part of the game she was playing. But no, she just had to be royalty.

“Eret’s better than most, they are a good king,” he reminded you.

“Still, there’s royal blood in her. She’s actively a part of a government… I wanted to kill her on the spot; hell everything in my body was screaming at me to slaughter her, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

“Sometimes, someone is more than the blood inside of them; maybe she isn’t as bad as you think she is. Someone could be born into a family of saints and still destroy everything they touch. On the other hand, someone could be born surrounded by the lowest of humanity and grow up to become the best person you’ll ever meet. You have to understand that blood isn’t everything to a person’s character.”

You didn’t say anything, contemplating what he said. She didn’t seem like someone to rule with an iron fist, and neither did her parent. Tubbo was the first person to come to mind. He was raised by a malicious, tyrannical idiot, a man that had valued absolute power and booze over anything else. Your uncle turned out to be the most caring person you’ve ever met, always making sure that those around him are in a good mood even if he himself wasn’t.

However, it’s best to be cautious of somebody. Your mind flashed back to Wilbur and Dream, the two men rotting away in Pandora’s Vault together until either their time alive is up or time itself expires. They were charismatic and kind on the outside, but on the inside, they are two of the most heinous men you’ve ever met.

It seemed like your mind was running in circles, bouncing between both conclusions like it was being slammed between two surfaces.

“...Do you think you’ll see her again?” Philza asked you, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles and squeezing it comfortingly when you didn’t respond immediately.

You sighed, standing up and walking out of the room, “if the odds are in our favor, we won’t see each other any time soon.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

General taglist (tagged in all fics, comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester @laura--444 @the-cult-classic-bitch @youngstarfishdinosaur @nottheotheruser @ohworm-writes @localwolfanon @realitycanbeajerk @v10dw4lk3r @esylwen @seraphsema @boiled-onionrings @smolgreenybeany @louistommosnesquickmilk @hyacinthrosearsha @ryxjxnnx @autumnpleaves @ravennightingaleandavatempus @0ton1n @self-righteous-dumbass @a-simp-for-block-people @fortunatelylazystranger @m1lkmandan @mirios-sunflower @ahmya-4 @shinipii @noyasblush @auroraskyfall @cryptocry @hee-hee-haw @blackstar-gazer

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

#philza x reader #technoblade x reader #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #destiny written in begonias #female reader #x reader #wlw reader #tw: swearing #tw: violence

268 notes · View notes

chrisstumps05 · 2 years ago

Video

youtube

"How to Grind a Blown Over Tree Stump: A Step-by-Step Guide"

0 notes

archived-kin · 3 years ago

Text

one thousand and one nights with you (is not enough to spend)

note from kin: the title is from that song in twisted by starkid, but that’s about as far as the similarity goes

anyway you’re visionless and basically run a little witch shop in mondstadt, with flowers and cool gemstones and mysterious powders and potions and stuff. albedo gets a lot of his alchemy ingredients from you (also he’s dating you but not a lot of people know that)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn! reader, albedo, plus a surprise venti cameo

pairing(s): albedo/reader

warning(s): i don’t know albedo that well so he might be ooc? also this is so cheesy it’s a little ridiculous

genre: fluff

“I’ll be going now, boss!”

You smile and return your assistant’s cheery goodbye wave as he disappears off into the night outside, freshly-filled coin pouch jingling at his hip. As the door swings shut with quiet click, your surroundings fall into quietude.

The candles keeping the room lit are beginning to burn down to stumps, throwing most of your shelves into shadow. You take a sip from the steaming cup sitting on your counter, then stand up to begin taking inventory and closing up shop.

The silence is comforting after such a long day. You’re not entirely sure what brought on the sudden increase in customers, given that your shop is tucked away in a quiet little corner of Mondstadt that not many tend to linger around. That had been a deliberate choice, and so was the lack of advertising - your speciality is the individual, not the crowd.

Still, you can’t say that it isn’t nice to have the increased income. More profit means better wages for your assisstant - and more Mora to buy even more cool things to stock.

You pass about an hour ambling around your shop, rearranging your products and making sure that everything is in order. Then, just as the bat-shaped clock on the wall chimes one o’clock, the bell above the front door jingles, and you hear quiet footsteps enter.

You don’t pay it any mind at first, instead focusing on rearranging the little bottles of various dusts and extracts on one of the ingredients shelves. A hand settles on the small of your back, and you feel the new arrival’s presence come to a stop beside you.

“We’re out of powdered lizard tail,” You say without looking at him.

A pause. Then a quiet chuckle. “That’s how you want to start the night?”

You smirk. “The night started a good while ago, darling.”

Albedo sighs as you turn to face him, though his soft smile betrays his faux-exasperation. “I did tell you I’d be late today.”

“You tell me that you’ll be late every day,” You reply, sliding one final bottle of powdered crystalfly into place, then move over to sit on your front counter. He follows, settling just beside you.

“I have a lot of things that need attending to,” He shrugs, leaning over and snatching your drink without asking. You shake your head, but let him take a sip from it anyway.

His eyes flicker up to look at you over the rim of the mug. “...though, of course, you’re the most important one.”

You laugh and bat at his shoulder. He doesn’t make any effort to avoid it, eyes twinkling as you smile. “Why not come round more often if I’m so important, huh?”

“Do you think I wouldn’t if I could?” He asks with a scoff, setting down the mug and gently nudging you in the side. “We both have jobs, [Name]. We need to actually do them.”

“Oh, I know that,” You return his nudge and hop down from the counter again. Albedo sighs a little at your restlessness, but follows as you swipe the keys from your drawer and open the door again. “But it doesn’t hurt to take a day off every now and then.”

“I’ve already taken far more in the last month than is reasonable,” Albedo says with a shake of his head, stepping out into the street at your indication and waiting as you shut and lock the door. “Grandmaster Jean will get suspicious.”

“Psh,” You dismiss, waving a whimsical hand about and nearly knocking the sign off of your door. “Why is it that you’re not telling her about us, again?”

“She doesn’t exactly like you,” He says, absently linking his hand with yours as the two of you begin walking aimlessly in no direction in particular. He’s removed his gloves, you notice. “You did set up shop without permission when you first got here.”

“Ah, right…” Now that you think about it, you seem to remember her shooting you a rather nasty look when you passed her in the street last week. Why she continues to hold a grudge is lost on you - after all, you did get the necessary documentation and everything eventually… though, to be fair, the method you used wasn’t exactly legal. “...well, forget her. What do you want to do tonight?”

“Hmm,” He swings your linked hands about for a moment. “I saw a lot of dandelions growing just outside the walls earlier. Why don’t we go pick some seeds?”

“If you want to pick dandelion seeds, why not ask Sucrose?” You ask as he begins leading you in the direction of the main gate. “She’s the one with the Anemo vision.”

“Sucrose?” Albedo repeats, turning his head to look at you. His irises almost seem to glow in the darkness of the night, brighter than any of the stars above - it’d be unsettling if it wasn’t so beautiful. “Why would I want to go seed-picking with her?”

You raise an eyebrow. “...well, I’m assuming you need them for an experiment, and Anemo-blown sunflower seeds are always far more effective in that area.”

“If I needed them for an experiment, I’d just buy them from your shop,” He shakes his head. “This isn’t an ingredient hunt. This is different - it’s special.”

“Special how?” You question as the two of you walk through the gate. Albedo guides you over to a particularly thick cluster of dandelions just a few feet away, nestled in a lush copse of grass.

“Special… like you.” He cups both his hands around one of yours, the one that he’d been holding just before, and guides it over to one of the tallest plants. “Go on, show me that trick again.”

You laugh a little at his almost childish inflection, but do as he requests anyway. Albedo pulls his hands away from yours and watches as you carefully pluck off the head of the dandelion without disturbing any of its fluff-topped seeds, allowing it to rest on the tips of your fingers.

“There’s no trick to having a delicate hand,” You say as he watches your every move with the utmost concentration. “It just takes practice.”

Carefully securing the little bit of stem left at the bottom of the dandelion head between your index finger and thumb, you slowly raise your hand so that it’s suspended just above Albedo; he ducks his head a little, closing his eyes as you bring up your other hand to ever-so-gently flick the seeds from the head. The seeds drift about in the still night air for a brief moment before landing in Albedo’s blonde hair; their white colour is barely distinguishable against it.

He opens his eyes again as you pull your hands down again, lifting his head slowly so as not to disturb the little decorations you’ve added to it. “...so what did you grant me this time?”

“A good night’s sleep,” You say playfully. “As the seeds are carried away on the wind, so too will all your worldly burdens be blown away.”

He shakes his head, and several seeds are dislodged by the motion, vanishing quickly into the night. “If only it were that easy.”

“Hey, it worked last time,” You counter, sitting down in the grass. Albedo follows suit, reaching out and plucking a dandelion of his own - though with a lot less deftness than you did.

“That wasn’t the dandelions,” He says plainly, blowing lightly on the dandelion and watching the fluff disperse and disappear into the dark. “I just sleep more soundly when you’re beside me.”

You chuckle. “Sweet talker. So you’d sleep like a baby if I was around all the time, then?”

“Perhaps I would half the time,” He answers, smiling in a way that tells you that he knows exactly how sappy what he’s about to say is. “But I wouldn’t sleep nearly as well for the other half. I’d be too busy looking at you.”

Despite already knowing that it was coming, you can’t help but feel your heart flutter slightly at his proclamation. “I could say the same about. Bet you’ve broken a good few hearts with looks like that.”

“Then so be it,” He shrugs, eye-lids falling a little as he gives you a devilish little smirk. “Yours is the only one I care about.”

“When did you get so charming?” You flick him in the nose, effectively wiping off the smug look on his face. “Have you been studying love poems or something?”

“Love poems aren’t really my area,” He says, drawing back and rubbing at his nose a little reproachfully. “But Lisa and Kaeya have been giving me plenty of tips on my… 'romantic endeavours’, as they say.”

“Those two…” You shake your head. Kaeya and Lisa managed to find about your relationship with Albedo almost as soon as he’d confessed to you, though luckily they’d agreed to try not to mention it around Jean. “Have those tips been working?”

“Isn’t that a question for you to answer?” He picks another dandelion and blows it directly at you. “Is your heart being stirred?”

“Not while you’re blowing seeds into my face, it isn’t,” You shield yourself with one hand, pushing it in front of Albedo’s face to obscure his field of vision. “Quit it!”

He does drop the dandelion at your request, but, unusually, doesn’t give you a verbal response. You’re just thinking that he must be planning something when he suddenly leans forward and kisses the centre of your palm.

You immediately pull your hand back, feeling yourself heat up. Albedo leans forward, cocking his head to the side with a smile. “What about now?”

“You’re insufferable,” is your only reply.

Albedo’s smile turns into another smirk. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “I’m yours.”

“Mine, now? How nice,” You say, still trying to act unbothered. You can tell it isn’t working, though. “Am I allowed to get a refund if you don’t work as expected?”

“Would you ever want to return me?” Albedo counters. You can’t exactly say yes - that’s both mean and untrue - so you just sigh and shake your head. He smiles, clearly pleased.

You’re about to say something else when you hear a series of uneven footsteps coming from the gate. It doesn’t sound like a Knight of Favonius on patrol - in fact, it sounds more like a drunkard.

Albedo shuffles a little closer to you as a figure stumbles out of the gates. It’s someone you vaguely recognise by their green clothes - the bard who often plays in front of the statue of Barbatos. He’s holding a bottle that’s already half-empty, and you have a feeling that he’s already had a lot more before it.

The bard looks over at you and Albedo, and while you doubt he can recognise your faces what with both the darkness and the distance, it’s obvious enough that the two of you aren’t just a pair of good buddies hanging out. He raises the bottle in your direction with a hiccup.

“Wonderful night to meet a lover!” He calls, voice ringing so loudly that you’re sure that he just woke up a few residents of the city. “May your relationship last long as the wind blows!”

He doesn’t wait for a response before beginning to stumble his way across the bridge. As he goes, he exclaims to no one in particular, “The air is crisp tonight! Such good wine - what a wonderful city!”

He quickly disappears into the darkness. You exchange looks with Albedo. “...how much do you think he drank?”

“Far too much,” He replies amusedly. “He’ll regret it come morning.”

“And it isn’t too far off now,” You say, checking your pocket watch. “Will you be heading back to headquarters tonight?”

He considers, then shakes his head. “I don’t have anything that’ll need attention tomorrow morning. So, if you’ll have me…”

He doesn’t finish, but you already know what he’s asking. “There’s always room for you to stay over - you should know that by now, shouldn’t you?”

He smiles a little bashfully at that, and nods. “I suppose so… thank you.”

“You might as well move in at this point,” You comment, shifting slightly on the spot and patting at his arm. He holds his hand out obligingly, and you thread your fingers through his. “You’ve left at least three sets of pyjamas over already.”

Albedo opens his mouth to respond, and you shake your head, placing the index finger of your free hand to his lips to shush him. “Yeah, yeah, I got it, Grandmaster Jean’ll get suspicious…”

He blows on your finger to get you to retract it. When that doesn’t work, he pretends to bite at it, which is a lot more effective. “...I will tell her eventually. Just not now.”

“While you’re on the rocks,” You say with a nod, squeezing his hand. He sighs and nods as well. “But I still don’t think she’d fire you over who you’re dating.”

“Maybe not, but I don’t want to get any more on her bad side,” He mumbles. “She’s still annoyed about that floor I melted.”

“Didn’t you tell her that I was the one who made you drop the potion?” You ask, thinking back to that particular day - when you’d learnt that Albedo is very susceptible to your flirting when he’s in the middle of an experiment.

He shakes his head with a chuckle. “I didn’t think you’d appreciate me tattling. Besides, it isn’t like she punished me.”

“Well, you’re basically untouchable at the end of the day,” You comment, lying back in the grass and pulling Albedo with you. “It’s them who need you, not the other way around.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” He says, adjusting himself so that the two of you are pressed flush against each other. “If I hadn’t started working for them, we’d never have met.”

“We would have crossed paths eventually,” You say, smiling coyly when he turns his head to face you. “Though better sooner than later, I suppose.”

“Far better sooner,” He says, returning your smile with a much softer one. “I’m glad we did.”

Another dandelion seed drifts out of his hair and lands in the grass as you look at him. You'll be keeping this one for a long time, you decide. Probably forever. You like him.

You think he likes you, too.

#unedited #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin albedo #albedo x reader #fluff #i don't know what else to tag #uhhh #sappy #albedo's hair is so hard to draw for some reason #something about the gif for this one feels off and idk what #i'll come back to it later

186 notes · View notes

arvinsescape · 3 years ago

Text

Free

A/N: I finally got my new laptop and was able to write again so I wrote an idea that’s been in my head for a while, it’s loosely inspired by Luther, a series that I’ve re watched recently, I hope you all enjoy.

Summary: Tom just knows you had something to do with your husbands murder. His problem? He can’t prove it.

Warnings: Swearing. Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up, condoms are a barrier from many things), oral (Fem receiving), mentions of murder, talks of an abusive relationship. (Minors do not engage). I think that’s all.

This is purely a work of fiction. I accept constructive criticism.

W/C: 3.6K

You were driving Tom insane, he knew, in his gut, he was so sure that you had something to do with your husband’s disappearance. The case had landed itself on his desk when missing persons had deemed it a murder case, even without a body. Could he find the hard evidence that linked you to the murder? No. Was he sure it was you? A thousand per cent. Your case had been dropped months ago but he couldn’t get it or you out of his head.

“Tell me what happened?” Tom asked as he sat opposite you for the first time.

“I’ve already answered all of these questions.” You replied, Tom could tell you were nervous, you had a hard expression, but he saw straight through it.

“I don’t believe some of the answers that you gave.” He said as interlocked his hands on the desk, leaning slightly closer to you.

“I’m not really bothered what you believe, it’s what happened.” You fired back.

“People don’t just disappear.”

“Sure, they do. That’s what missing person’s is for, right?” You said as you cocked an eyebrow at him and he almost smiled, slightly enamored by the way you were handling his questioning. He’d gained a reputation for getting people to crack, but you? You seemed unfazed by his line of questioning.

Ultimately Tom had had to let you go because he couldn’t find the evidence, he needed to convict you. It drove him mad, it had him stumped for months just trying to figure out how you’d done it. How you’d evaded his thorough analysis of your property and workplace. You were smart, that was glaringly obvious to him, every time he thought he’d found something, he came up short.

A week ago, he’d found himself with a similar case on his desk, only this time the body was found. Again, there wasn’t much evidence but there were so many similarities between your case and this one. He found himself up for hours cross referencing your case file and this one, although the woman they suspected this time wasn’t as intelligent as you were, she’d lied about her alibi. Unlike you she’d said she was with a friend who denied it. You on the other hand had said you were at home all day and he couldn’t confirm that as truth and so this evidence became inadmissible in court.

He’d found himself on your doorstep, almost wanting to beg for your help, it was strange, he’d never felt like he needed anyone else’s help before yet here he was outside your door.

“Detective Holland. A man I thought I’d never seen again.” You said once you opened your door. He couldn’t help but note how beautiful you looked, he shook the thought away as he showed his badge and entered your home.

“Mrs. Leigh, I need your help.” He said in a matter-of-fact manner, he noted the small smile that had appeared on your lips and fought his own back, yours was so contagious.

“It’s Miss L/N now.” You politely corrected him.

“My apologies.”

“What could you possibly need my help with?”

“A case I’m trying to solve.”

“Forgive me but I’m not sure how I could be of help to you.” You said with furrowed brows.

“I think you could.”

He talked you through the case and his theories, all the holes in stories and suspicious behavior and you just drank it all in, nodding in certain places but ultimately you kept quiet. It wasn’t until e was done that you spoke.

“I mean, and this is all hypothetical, you’d hide the weapon in plain sight.” You answered as you made your way over to your fridge.

“That would be stupid though.” Tom said confidently, there was no way he’d missed something that was in plain sight. He watched as you pulled the bottle of wine from the fridge with a sigh. What had urged you to help him was beyond you, but a part of you knew that your case still haunted him, and you somehow felt guilty for it.

“People like you will always overlook stupid.” You said with a confidence he couldn’t quite place.

“So, you’re saying if someone wanted to hide evidence, they’d do it in plain sight because we’d overlook it?” Tom was bewildered, there was no way that this could be true, he’d spent hours going over the case files, there’s no way he missed such major evidence such as the murder weapon. He watched as you nodded mindlessly before digging through the drawer for a bottle opener.

“The autopsy report indicates a stab wound to the neck.” He continued. “They bled out. I’ve searched that house and I couldn’t find a single knife small enough to fit that wound.” He spoke. He knew the evidence for this case was in the house, the timing of everything would not have given the perpetrator any time to hide evidence away from the house.

He watched as you took the cork out of the bottle, once you’d removed the cork you placed the bottle opener on the counter, the tiny blade used for taking the paper lining off the bottle top was shining at him, almost mocking him.

“I could think of a few.” You hummed as you filled a wine glass. Tom was filled with excitement as he realized you were right, the small knife was easily concealed within the opener, he had overlooked it, not thought for a second that such a small knife was in the most basic household item.

“All I need to do is tie the murder weapon to her and case closed.” He beamed and you smiled, genuinely smiled for the first time since Tom had met you and he couldn’t help but return it, he really was enamored with you.

“Case closed.” You smiled as you sipped from your wine glass.

You had started to infect the young detective’s thoughts in a different way. He used to obsess over how you’d done it and now he was more obsessed as to why. He couldn’t understand how a woman like you, who was so quiet, kind and charismatic could have harmed another person. He started to wonder if he was wrong, if you’d had anything to do with it at all but his gut told him you did.

All the evidence for his current case came together and the victim’s wife had gone to prison for his murder, pleading guilty. She’d killed him because she wanted his money. He thought back to your case, your husband had had a lot of money, but he couldn’t see that being your motive, he couldn’t think of anything that would motivate you to murder someone. Over the time it took him to gather the evidence, he’d sought out your help more than once and he’d become enchanted by you, he found you intriguing, he wanted to get to know you better.

He wondered if that was what had brought him to your doorstep yet again. He should have been out celebrating the win, but he found himself outside your door. He knocked and wondered if you’d answer, it was late, he noted but he found himself hoping you’d open your door for him. When he heard the lock click his heart raced with excitement, he hoped you’d have that lovely smile on your face that you always had.

“Detective.” You smiled and he laughed.

“Tom.” He corrected and you smiled wider at him.

“What brings you to my doorstep Tom?”

“I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“I’m not sure I’d have found that evidence had it not been for our chat, so thank you.”

“Well, you’re welcome. Did you want to come in? I’ve just opened a bottle of red.” You asked with that oh so contagious smile.

“How could I refuse?” He said as he made his way passed you and into the living room that he’d become so familiar with.

A bottle of red wine shared between the two later had them both feeling slightly tipsy. Tom knew he should probably make a move, but he didn’t want to, not unless you wanted him to. He found he very much enjoyed your company and wanted to stay in it as long as possible.

“Thank you for helping me finish the wine.” You smiled.

“Favor returned?” He smirked and you laughed.

“Sure. I suppose I won’t see you now.” You thought aloud.

“I suppose not.” He said, you’d moved closer to each other now, faces inches apart. “Unless you want to help me solve more cases.” He continued.

“I don’t think you’ll need my help again.” You said quietly, eyes flicking from each other’s eyes to each other’s lips.

“You never know.” He answered as quietly as you had. Tom licked his lips in anticipation, he probably shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of kissing you, but he couldn’t help it. You hummed in response as your noses brushed one an other’s. He couldn’t stop himself as he closed the small distance between you.

Your lips met in a desperate kiss, his hands finding your hair as you fisted his shirt in a desperate attempt to pull him closer to you. His mind felt blank as he became completely consumed by thoughts of you and what he wanted to do to you. He’d found you attractive the second he’d brought you in for questioning all those months ago but the more he’d gotten to know you the more he found you attractive. The rational part of his brain that was telling him this might be dangerous shut off as bit your bottom lip and you moaned slightly.

Your lips disconnected as you both needed air, both as breathless as each other. You looked at him and the look in your eyes drove him wild, your beautiful eyes were looking back at him completely list blown. He reconnected your lips as you straddled him, his hands finding your waist, lifting your shirt slightly to feel your skin.

“Bedroom?” He asked through a breath as your lips briefly disconnected.

“Upstairs, third door on the right.” You said quickly before reconnecting your lips, the kiss was hot and heavy as Tom stood, carrying you effortlessly to your bedroom, not breaking the kiss for a second. As soon as he found himself in your room, you both fell onto the bed, Tom’s back hitting the mattress. He almost moaned as you rocked your hips into his, the friction causing him to stiffen even more than he thought possible.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He said as he sat up, his lips connecting with your neck. You rolled your head back to give him more access and he took the opportunity to trail kisses down your throat, listening to the small gasps you were exhaling. He was more aroused than he’d ever been in his life, he felt completely drunk off you.

“Tom, I really want you to fuck me.” You spoke and Tom groaned at the filthy words that left your mouth, he wasn’t expecting it.

“Wanna taste you first.” He spoke as he flipped you both over, your back easily hitting the mattress as your lips reconnected. He trailed kisses down your neck as his hands went to the hem of your shirt, pulling it from you effortlessly. He unclipped your bra and threw both your shirt and bra onto the floor. Kissing down your chest as he took a nipple into his mouth, slightly grazing it with his teeth before licking and sucking at it.

Your moans grew louder, and Tom found himself entranced by the sounds you were making, he doesn’t recall ever being with anyone who sounded as pretty as you did. He continued his attention on your nipples, switching from one to the other.

“Tom, please.” You begged and he smirked against your skin.

“What?” He asked as he made eye contact with you, his fingers moving to roll your nipple.

“I need you to move lower.” You moaned.

“Whatever you want baby.” He spoke as he placed a final kiss to your breast before moving down your body.

He quickly removed your shorts and groaned when he realized you didn’t have underwear on. He looked at your glistening heat and almost moaned at how wet you were for him.

“So wet, look at this.” He said as he ran a finger through your folds. “I’ve barely touched you and your soaked.” He smirked as you rolled your head back into the pillow.

“Please.” You begged as he let out a breath over your heat, watched as you jolted slightly from the sensation. “Tom.” You moaned as he ran his tongue through your heat.

“You taste fucking amazing.” He said before practically diving in, sucking your clit as he listened to your moans. He continued to lick and suck at your clit as he heard your moans grow louder, you must have been close he thought to himself as he sucked your clit and listened to the high-pitched moan you released.

He felt as your hand moved to his hair, almost keeping him still as he continued to lick and suck at your clit, your hips bucking up to meet his movements and e found it so incredibly hot, the way you’d started to use his face to almost get yourself off was driving him wild.

You let out a moan of his name as your orgasm crashed through you, Tom felt your legs shake and helped you through your intense orgasm, feeling proud of himself for not disappointing you. Once you’d come down from your high, he pulled away, moving back up your body, your legs continuing to shake through your aftershocks.

“So perfect.” He mumbled as he gave you a quick kiss, taking in the blissful expression on your face. “Did so well for me. Fucking hot.” He said again as you removed his shirt, placing a kiss onto his chest. You continued pressing kisses to his chest as he fumbled with his belt, almost getting frustrated as it got caught.

“Here.” you said as your hands took over, taking his belt into your own hands, undoing it almost like it was second nature to you. He found it all the more of a turn on. You made short work of his pants; they found their place with the rest of the clothes on the floor of your bedroom.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked.

“Yes. I want you to fuck me Tom.”

It was all the confirmation he needed as he slipped into you, both of you moaning at the contact. Fuck, you felt good, almost perfect for him. You were both a moaning mess as he thrusted into you over and over again. His hand gripping your thigh to hoist it higher around his waist. You almost screamed as he found your g spot from his new angle, your nails clawing at his back which only made him thrust into you harder.

“Fuck, that feels good, you feel so fucking amazing.” He said as he felt you clench around him. He shifted your leg higher to get an even better angle on your g spot as he continuously pounded into you, listening to your moans of his name. he felt his own orgasm approach as you tightened around him, he knew you were close, and he watched in awe as you reached your own hand to your clit and started to rub it.

“That’s it baby.” He said and after a few more thrusts he felt you come around him which brought on his own orgasm, he removed himself from your tight heat and released his load all over your stomach with a moan of your name.

It took you both a good few minutes to recover, he was collapsed on top of you as you ran your fingers through his hair. He kissed your shoulder every few minutes and found himself more happy and content than he’d been in a long time. He removed himself from the top of you and went into the bathroom to find a warm cloth to wash the two of you off.

Once you were both cleaned up he laid in your bed with your head on hi chest as you slept soundly, and he ran his hands through your hair. He was deep in thought as he thought about your case and what had happened and now he was dying to know what had driven you to commit such an act. He was so sure in his gut you’d done it but having you here in the state you were he wondered how you could harm an insect, let alone another person.

“I wish you’d tell me what happened. Just be honest, everything’s different now. I’d want you to confide in me as your partner not see me as a detective who’s looking to lock you away. Fuck Princess, I think I’d move the Earth if you asked me to.” He whispered and he meant it, he didn’t want this time with you to end, he was so infatuated with you by this point. He fell asleep after a while, thoughts of you completely on his mind.

“I need to know how you did it.” He spoke after a while of you both being awake, you were spooning now as his hand rubbed your bare skin, he pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“You’ve read the file.” You spoke.

“That says you didn’t do it, but I know you did Princess.”

“My case is closed, why don’t you leave it at that?”

“I can’t. I’m obsessing over it.”

“I’ve already told you.” You said after a while and Tom furrowed his brows as he turned you onto your back so he could look at you.

“No. You haven’t.” He spoke carefully, maybe he’d missed something, a confession maybe.

“For a Detective Inspector, you can be pretty stupid.” You laughed and he thought on your words for a second. Thought about how much help you’d been and what you’d said, of course you knew how this woman had done it, it was how you’d done it. The only difference was that you’d managed to dispose of the body.

“So, you did do it?” He said quietly, a small part of him was proud he was right, his gut was never wrong, but the bigger part of him wondered why.

“You just need to prove it.” You said as a tear made its way down your cheek. Of all the things Tom expected, this wasn’t one of them, he wasn’t expecting you to cry.

“Hey,” he said as he swiped the tear away with his thumb. “Tell me what happened.” He urged in the most comforting manner he could, he needed you to know you could trust him with this.

“Have you ever felt trapped? That’s how he made me feel, like I had no way out. I tried to leave him so many times, but he wouldn’t let me, he had me by the throat and it felt like he was squeezing the life out of me.” You said through your tears and Tom’s heart dropped, this wasn’t a usual case where the wife murders the husband for a payout. “He wasn’t the nice rich guy everyone thought he was, he hit me, took all his anger out on me but I could never prove it, if I had bruises I wasn’t allowed to leave the house until they weren’t visible, which wasn’t often. I snapped.” You spoke and he pulled you into a hug.

“Y/N…” He said and you interrupted him.

“But it never matters to people like you. You don’t give leeway for the small amount of people who had no other choice. That’s why I never came clean, never admitted to what I’d done, I didn’t want him to trap me any more than he had, I didn’t want to go to prison because of him.” You said as you finally let the tears out that you’d kept in for so many months.

You hadn’t intended to kill him; it was an accident. You cried for ten minutes as Tom held you, placing comforting kisses to your temple. Something about finally telling the truth was freeing, you knew he could and would probably arrest you for this, but it felt good to finally tell someone the truth that was eating away at you.

“I’m not going to do anything.” Tom spoke after a while.

“What?” You asked through sniffles as your tears ceased.

“I understand now. You’ve been punished enough. Your secret is safe with me.” He said sincerely and you believed him, but you didn’t want to drag him down with you.

“You could lose your job, go to prison if anyone found out.” You said and he kissed your cheek.

“They won’t, your case has become a cold one. There’s still no body, I doubt they’ll reopen the case.” He said through a small smile. He didn’t want to ask what you’d done with the body, he assumed you were clever enough to make sure it was never found and if it was he would make sure none of the evidence led to you, he would make sure that all the evidence ran dry, he felt like he would do anything for you.

“So, I’m free?” You spoke, hope lacing every word.

“You’re free baby.”

#tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut

156 notes · View notes

roadkill01 · 3 years ago

Text

Hange/Levi (platonic) x Male Reader

All you could do was watch as the tongs came closer to your fingers, digging underneath your dirtied fingernail. A shrill scream vibrated across the bloodied stone walls as the nail was ripped from your finger. Tears streamed down your face as you begged for this torture to stop, but it was all done to no avail. You felt the blood drip down and collect at the end of your limp hand. The only sound in the room was heavy pants heard from both parties and the occasionally splash of blood against the hard stone floor. Your torturer huffed, and pushed a hand through his sweaty hair, making it slick back and stick up in odd places.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just speak. I have taken all of your finger and toenails. Your body has been burnt and lacerated. I’m not even sure how you are alive...” you wished for death though. Pleading and begging for this seemingly endless torture to stop. Tears ran down your bloodied cheeks, and your torturer brought a warm hand to your face. He swiped away the tears with the pad of his thumb, smearing the blood up your cheekbone. He moved his hand to hold the stump at the end of your ear. A month ago there was a pretty silver earring attached to it. He didn’t like how it glistened in the candlelight though, so naturally it had to go.

“You were so handsome [Name]. Such a perfect husband. Waiting patiently for me to come to you.” You didn’t understand what had come of the sweet boy you had grown up with. What had changed? Why was he forced to become such a heartless vicious man as this? The slam of a door brought you from your darkening thoughts. He had finally left. You let out cry after cry, mourning the old Eren. And wishing a peaceful death upon the new one. He had to rest. You know so much, and yet you didn’t. For just as life, Eren continued pushing on. It didn’t matter through which obstacle. The love of your life wasn’t initially put in to torture you, originally it was supposed to be Hange and Levi. Eren took it over, as you had heard from him and you’d been moved cells. Your captain and the one who thought of you as a younger brother, neither could apparently bear to do it. Nobody could. You were such a happy influence on them all, it seemed ridiculous that you were accused of being a traitor. You had been in this dreaded cell for a month now. The only person you had seen was Eren. You were the subject of inconceivable rumours when it came out that Reiner and Bertholdt were Titans. You had been close friends with the two, and frequently interacted with Annie. The survey corps couldn’t take anymore risks. You would never blame them for this. You heard clattering come from up the stairs, and wondered if Eren was home already.

What surprised you however was the concerned deep voice that called out. “Hello? Is anyone here? Please call out.” You let out a nervous greeting to the stranger followed by heavy thumping come down the stairs, almost as if someone was jumping down them. You closed your eyes and sighed, the energy immediately dispelling from your body. If you were going to die now, you would accept it graciously. You opened them once more when the owner of these footsteps stifled a gasp. You only grew curious at the sound but didn’t look over yet.

What made you look over, was when the voice called out a loud. “Hange. Your going to want to see this.” You looked over as Levi began to fiddle with the locks on the other side of the bars. You could see how is hands kept slipping and shaking. You took a shaky breath as another set of footsteps (which you guessed were Hanges) made their way downstairs. The second they saw the state you were in they took off their glasses, tears flowed down from their brown uncovered eye. “[Name]? Don’t tell me? No, no, I’m so sorry.” All you could do was watch as the bright optimistic person you’d come to known fell apart at the state you were in, and who could blame them.

You looked half dead anyway, the clothes you once wore hand been dyed a crimson with the sheer amount you had bled. There was darkened ashy skin, where Eren had burnt you, peeling away and revealing the clashing pink of exposed flesh underneath. There were chunks that had been taken out of your body, namely your arms and thighs. The finger and toenails now newly removed seeped more of the dreaded red liquid. There was just so much. A seemingly endless wave of blood. It would never stop crashing upon you and those who stood too close. With a clank the door unlocked. Levi had opted for kicking the door in instead of trying to break the lock. Hange rushed in first, immediately undoing the rough rope pulled taught against your ankles and the chair leg. Levi coming next you, to pull away the loose pieces holding your wrist down to the arm of the chair. As the ropes were pulled away, you felt as though you could finally rest now. You were saved, right? Your limp body fell forward onto Hange as Levi undid the final rope on your left wrist.

They held you up, and carried you like a baby as you clung to them. Your legs wrapped around their waist and your arms around their neck. Hange held your back and pulled you into them as they carried you up the stairs, Levi anxiously picking at his nails next to you and Hange. The pair walked through the upstairs in complete silence, not daring to utter a word. The only sound on that damned floor was the eternal dripping of your blood. As you reached the door to outside, Hange pushed your head into their neck, the sunlight would be a surprise for a man who had not seen light in a month. A small murmur was heard from you as you asked. “Are you two okay? If I die now, I need you to know I never once blamed you.” Tears unwillingly fell from their face once more and even Levi had to stifle a cry at the words.

The commander of the survey corps carrying a limp body was a sight to see, so naturally it dragged the attention of surrounding villagers. Muttering began as they realised the body belonged to you, none other than [Name] [Last Name]. A strong soldier with a future in the military brighter than Queen Historia’s hair. You had always been good to the general public, and as such they had loved you in return. The survey corps knew the amount of influence you held over these villagers, even if you did not. They loved you, because you were kind even after the unrelenting dangers of the outside, you always kept your morals no matter how difficult and helped wherever you could. A small blonde girl ran up to Hange, ignoring the cry’s of the crowd gathered, and gripped the bloodied material of your shirt. She looked up to meet the commanders eyes silently pleading that you weren’t dead. She was one of many people you had helped and as such felt indebted to you. Your joyous face whenever you returned from an expedition out the walls would make her heart soar and you would even bring flowers for some upon occasion. She had a flower now, clutched in her trembling pale hand and she thrusted it into the space between you and Hange, and dropped it. The stem was discoloured and crumped from how tightly the young girl had gripped it. Hange nodded slightly, closing their eyes before speaking loud enough for everyone to hear.

“[Name] [Last Name] is not dead. Not now at least. We will get him into immediate care, and hopefully someone can tend to his injuries, as you can see they are quite severe. Do not worry though, we can keep you updated about his current condition and will tell you immediately if he does,” she began to choke up. “If he does end up dying.” A few in the crowd began to cry and others angrily shout. “Who the hell is responsible for this!” Hange looked down casted and they began to walk away, avoiding the question. If word got out that it was another scout, much less your own partner all hell would break loose and the scouts headquarters would most definitely be compromised. They would deal with Eren all in due time, and by god would he have hell to deal with.

Levi however turned to the man, and feeling nothing but absolute hatred for the former member of his squad spat out a bitter, “Eren Jeager.” Hange could punish him later, as long as justice was brought for his friend. The pair began to speed up as Hange felt your heart beat grow weaker, eventually breaking into a full blown sprint. Levi ran ahead to prepare the doctor, saying it was of the upmost importance. You and Hange eventually reached the doctor with Hange practically flinging themselves through the door and gently laid you on an unused table. The doctor was quick to rush to your side and carefully peeled off the sticky clothing, occasionally using a knife to cut parts away. With your body lying bare, both the doctor and the longest surviving members of the survey corps could fully see the damage Eren had inflicted. Hange let out a choked sob as Levi just stood, anger and disbelief evident on his face. The doctor immediately ushered the pair out the room, and pushing a piece of paper into their hands. “Find these plants, there are drawings in case you need help with identifying them.” He then pointed to the forest a whiles walk away from the doctors house. He slammed the door in their faces and got back to helping patch you up. It seems he wasn’t all talk as he helped stabilise your near death condition.

A knock at the door alerted the doctor of Hange and Levi’s arrival. He yelled at them for come in, not wanting to leave your body alone for any amount of time in case your condition would suddenly drop. The entered and the doctor set to work grinding the specific herbs and plants into a paste which he would apply to your body. Hange’s hand swiped over your newly cleaned face, you looked a lot better now that there wasn’t quite so much blood everywhere. The doctor smeared the newly made green paste on the more severe lacerations and quickly wrapped them in cloth.

“I.. I don’t know if he’ll make it out alive.” The blunt statement filled Hange and Levi’s head. You wouldn’t make it? But you were [Name] [Last Name]? The boy who kept smiling through everything? And yet as your chest rose and fell irregularly both Hange and Levi knew the chances of you living were slim.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“Can I see [Name] today mama? I wanna give him flowers!” The woman looked down at her daughter and ruffled her blonde hair. “Of course honey, be back for lunch though, okay?” The girl nodded, beaming and rushed out her house, sprinting over the mismatched cobbles and up to the woods where you resided. Once she’d reached the forest, the trees split, almost as if guiding everyone who came, directly to [Name]. She ran down the rocky path, the villagers had collectively gathered to make a stone path all the way to [Name] so people can easily come and visit him. She almost tripped and dropped the flowers but a bush caught her, and she steadied herself once more. When she arrived she already saw Hange and Levi sitting by the sandstone headstone. “Ah- Mx Hange and Mr Levi, I didn’t know you were here sorry.” Hange smiled at the girl and beckoned her to come closer.

“That’s quite alright, we were just telling him we’d be back soon, we’ve got a mission coming up soon, and I can’t bring myself to not run every plan through him first.” Levi grimaced at their words, he knew they weren’t taking [Name]’s death particularly well, especially after Eren only really got off with a slap on the wrist. He would come with her, hoping they wouldn’t do anything rash especially after Moblit died. Besides, he too had come to care about the ridiculously happy [hair colour] boy in his squad. The girl came and sat by his gravestone, taking the dying flowers off the grave and putting on her fresh ones. Hange smiled at the action, glad that even if Levi and them were to die, there would at least be someone to take care of his final resting place. “I wish you the best. [Name] [Last Name]”

#aot #attack on titan #male reader #snk #snk levi #hange zöe #hange supremacy #angst?#eren yeager #sad ending #unless you want to die #I probably shouldn’t put spoilers #don’t read the tags unless you want spoilers

27 notes · View notes

pinkdemonade · 3 years ago

Text

My thoughts on Chapter 2!!!

Of course!!! Spoilers under the cut!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

...Anyways!!!

Chapter 2 is SO good, I adore every part of it, the setting, music, characters, art, gameplay..... I don't think there's any part that I am not a fan of. But that's whatever!! I just want to dump how I feel about specifics!!!

Firstly, and most Celina-Related... Mew Mew. MEW MEW!!! I guess they're Maddie as of now but!! My sentiment is unchanged by their name!! We don't even get to SEE her and yet getting those few lines of dialogue made me so happy ::')

She deserves the WORLD. I hope we get to enter the ghost residence sometime. It'd be our first chance to see all of them interacting in-game.....

Hometown's residents in general are very, very interesting... Asriel II hearing a song from the sea??? Snowy and Monsterkid investigating the bunker, Rudy's worsening condition, Alvin visiting Gerson's grave.... It's all so much.

The idea that Asgore is a former cop and might've been the reason Dess is, not around. Is heartbreaking. Even if nothing's confirmed it still hurt, and with DR's setting and tone it feels so much more personal than the six fallen children. Tragedies pile up at Asgore's feet wherever he goes. There's too much mystery behind this to say for sure but god it HURTS.

Spamton NEO.

WHAT A FIGHT. The return of soul modes??? The theme??? The roller coaster?? Everything is so over the top and I LOVE it. Spamton himself has some pretty bleak implications for a LOT of things, and the ending of his fight is Fucked Up!! To say the least!!!

Plus the fact that this battle uses The World Revolving's leitmotif... Honestly, it feel like that part of the song symbolizes Freedom more than Jevil or any other character who may use it. Both Spamton and Jevil has serious themes of corruption, abandonment and freedom, which, looking at Kris.... Is worrying.

SPEAKING OF THE WONDERFUL CHARACTER THAT IS KRIS DELTARUNE...

Kris... Every little bit of characterization they got is so wonderful and so, so upsetting. People have talked about their searches a lot already, but what really got me was the post-Spamton NEO scene... They saw a puppet cut off it's strings, only to become nothing more than a doll. With everything he says to them about being "Just a heart on a string," and the previously mentioned motifs of freedom and abandonment... It clearly really got to Kris. They have what seems to be a full blown anxiety attack!! They were obviously disturbed by what happened with Spamton and it seriously broke my heart ::'(

With that, and the ending. the ENDING.... I'm very unsure if Kris is the Knight. There's a handful of things that have me feeling that way, like Jevil and King's supposed encounters with Said Knight. But, there is SOMETHING up with them... I don't think they have evil intentions at all!! I more feel that they took the stance the others had before hearing of The Roaring and stuck with it. That the Dark World is a better place, and even IF the imbalance could happen, Kris has the power to seal the fountains. It's a way to keep seeing Ralsei, to keep having adventures with Susie, and to keep doing this even despite the consequences.

The only thing that's got me stumped is... Queen says a knife was used to open the dark world in the computer lab. And, of course, that Dark World didn't exist until that day, after the Pie Incident... Perhaps the pie isn't the only thing that was effected then??

Whatever's going on with them, I don't think there's world ending intentions behind it... I have SO many questions

Oh and, Ralsei is DEFINITELY hiding something. I know it's common knowledge but... He really can exist in other dark worlds and move freely between them huh???? Is HE pure Darkness?? Is he even a DARKNER???? All we know is that he's a fluffy boy.....

And finally!!! Gaster's presence being nothing but subtle hints is chilling, I can't wait to see what The Good(?) Doctor has cooking up in The Void/The Bunker/[[Hyperlink Removed]]!!!

#utdr #deltarune #deltarune spoilers #dr spoilers #deltarune chapter 2 #I am taking NO risks in terms of tagging this

13 notes · View notes

moody-blues-requiem · 4 years ago

Text

Dullahan of the Opera (afab reader x Dullahan!Prosciutto)

SPOOKTACULAR FICS GO!

First up is the winner of the poll in a 3:1 victory, Dullahan Prosciutto!

Fic is n/s/f/w, mild warning for semi-public sex.

Enjoy!

Deep in the heart of Venizia and dressed to the nines on a temperate October evening, Prosciutto clasped your delicately gloved hand to his side as he guided you carefully along a narrow sidewalk. You were blindfolded, eyes hidden behind black silk, matching the simple, open-backed gown and elbow-length gloves you wore. Walking blindfolded in heels was a feat in itself, but one you managed with grace. You hoped Prosciutto wouldn’t be too distracted with guiding you to notice your impressive performance. Before he had put the blindfold on you, you’d gotten to see him in a different suit than his usual patterned one; rich black with gilded details, and of course, his usual pendant dangling from his neck.

When asked why a blindfold, you were told to trust him. When asked where you were going, you were told to trust him. You trusted Prosciutto with your past, present, and future, but that didn’t stop you from playfully pouting at your lover. “Can I get a hint, at least?”

“Alright,” he said. “You’re wearing the blindfold because I want to surprise you with where we’re going.”

Even without your sight, you could feel the smug aura practically radiating from him.

The sounds of the city around you changed as you approached your destination. You hear more voices, softly murmuring and mingling together, indicating a crowd of people. The light shifted just a touch warmer, you were approaching somewhere bright. Soft music played from some unseen source. Where…

Prosciutto placed his hands on your hips, stopping you from going any further. Sturdy fingers removed the blindfold over your head, carefully brushing your hair back into place after. The sudden light took a moment to adjust to, but once you could see you immediately recognized the building before. Tall and grey, with beautiful stone pillars, statues, and decorated with colorful flags. A sculpture of a bird adorned the entryway sign, but you didn’t need to read it to know where you were. One of the most famous opera houses in all of Italy, Il Teatro La Fenice. Prosciutto flashed two tickets in your direction, with a sly smile. “Private opera box,” he said. “Just for us.”

It was rare for Prosciutto to splurge like this, but when he did, he went all out. Waiting for you in your private seating was a chilled wine that you knew had to cost at least half a job for him. Was it wrong to enjoy such finery at the cost of blood money? Maybe. Were you going to indulge yourself anyways? Absolutely.

The show opened with a beautiful duet piece sung by a couple, a young woman and a slightly older gentleman. Something about restrained love-- even as a fluent Italian speaker, the way they sang could make the words difficult to understand, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. The passion in their voice spoke (or rather, sang) for them. The wine was delicious, the music beautiful, and your lover had his hand protectively on your thigh the whole time. Even alone in the opera box, he liked asserting a subtle dominance over you.

It was a bit less subtle when, out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw Prosciutto begin to nod off, but when you looked, his head was off his shoulders completely.

You knew he was a dullahan. He’d taken his head off in front of you countless times. You’d never adjust perfectly to the sight of his stump neck, glistening red with blood that didn’t flow like the blood in your body. He’d explained that it was perfectly natural for his species of fae to be able to remove and reattach their head at will, and no, it didn’t hurt. He could still talk, and even eat with a detached head and the food would still make it to his stomach. “Fae magic, I don’t know”, he said, as if that were a perfectly good explanation. “Why is that harder to believe than a detachable head?”

The blonde passed his head from one hand to the other, delicately placing it in your lap. You tore your eyes away from the singer on stage to look down, met with the sight of a smirking Prosciutto. “You *did* get my text about what to wear, didn’t you? Or more specifically, what not to wear?”

You… had an idea of where this was going. Prosciutto had asked you to forgo your panties for the evening, though you assumed that would be for when you got home, or maybe the car ride… and a while back, months ago, he’d asked your thoughts on sex in public.

“Not just out in the open, no,” you’d said. “Maybe something more private, where we could get caught but probably won’t… I think I could do that.”

And then he just… never acted on it. So you forgot. Until now, of course, as he looked up at you with a fire in his eyes. “Pull up your dress, love. Let me see.”

You kept Prosciutto balanced expertly in your lap while you maneuvered the dress up over your knees, the slit over the left leg making it easier to pull the material back and expose yourself. The thought of anyone other than Prosciutto seeing you like this made your cheeks flush a deep pink, which only darkened as Prosciutto spoke again. “Show me, [y/n]. I’m afraid you’ll have to hold me, my hands are a bit occupied.”

Careful not to mess up Prosciutto’s hair, you held his head back and spread your legs, giving him a nice view of you. You’d shaved everything, just as he liked. Already the thought of being so impure with your boyfriend, here of all places, had you glistening wet with excitement. You turned your head just a bit to glance over at Prosciutto’s body, and nearly dropped the man’s head when you saw his cock out, flushed a deep red and leaking precum, hard and desperate for attention.

“Careful!” Prosciutto hissed. “But I could see just how you responded to that…. You got even wetter, didn’t you, naughty little girl? Give me a taste, before I let you play.”

You brought his head in close, enveloping him between warm thighs and the scent of your desperation, earning an aroused growl from Prosciutto’s clenched teeth before he dove in with his tongue. For as prim and proper as he was in other respects, there was absolutely no decorum when it came to eating you out; he went at you like a man starved. Lapping at you with feverish strokes, fucking you with his tongue, letting the end of his nose rub over your clit just to heighten your sensations farther. Your hips bucked and rolled against his severed head, but he was kept firmly in place by your clenching thighs.

When you felt your thighs growing shaky, Prosciutto growled. “Enough,” he said, between gasps for air. “Set me on the table, where I can see my body. I want you to fuck yourself with my cock, darling. Don’t stop until you cum on me, but if you dirty that suit one bit the dry-cleaning bill is on you.”

Prosciutto’s eyes were practically glued to your body as you, pulling up your dress a bit to give him an even better view, slid yourself down onto his waiting cock. Prosciutto groaned, the combination of your wet walls surrounding him with the sight of his cock disappearing into your tight hole was incredible. You groaned as his length slid perfectly inside of you, as if you were made to take him. Prosciutto regularly reminded you that you were.

“Move,” he commanded, barely audible over the voice of the opera lead beginning an emotional solo piece. “Fuck yourself on me, amore, go…”

You wasted no time, swirling your hips over his lap before setting a slow pace up and down, bouncing, feeling his length push just a bit further with every thrust. His hands grasped your hip bones like handles, commanding you to go deeper and faster. You tilted your head down to nip at his collarbones, both to tease your boyfriend and to help silence your desperate little sounds. The opera singer’s voice dominated the large auditorium, but you didn’t want your own little solo to accompany hers.

You found your hips moving in pace with the song, a ballad fiery with passion and… maybe anger, you weren’t exactly paying attention, but the tempo and feeling of the song compelled you to move faster and faster, moan a little louder, clench a little harder around Prosciutto’s cock… The man’s head was biting his lower lip, blue eyes blown wide with lust. “Fuck, amore, I’m close,” he whispered. “Keep going. I want to feel you cum, I want-- I *need* to fill you up.”

“Prosciutto, please!” you gasped. You could feel your end approaching as the song reached its’ fervent peak. “Please please please--”

Prosciutto growled, wilder and more unrestrained than you’d seen him before. His manicured nails were digging into the skin of your hips. “Cum for me, amore, now!”

You fell apart at his command. Stars danced in your vision, the song faded in and out of your ears, masked by the waves of pleasure overtaking your whole body. Distantly you could feel something thick and warm filling you up, Prosciutto’s cock pumping into you, his hands pulling you in close. You were sweaty, disheveled, but you didn’t care. Let those fancy opera-goers see who gave you pleasure unmatched. Let them see the inevitable stain on Prosciutto’s suit (oops). The body beneath you leaned over, grabbing Prosciutto’s head and returning it to his shoulders before the man leaned in for a kiss, ruling his fingers through your now-messy hair.

“That was incredible, Pros,” you whispered against his lips. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure was all mine, dear. And besides,” he looked over your shoulder, just in time to see the woman on stage bow at the crowd’s thunderous applause. “We still have two acts left.”

#prosciutto #jjba prosciutto #vento aureo #golden wind #la squadra di esecuzione #dullahan prosciutto #dullahan!prosciutto #my writing #n/s/f/w #va

71 notes · View notes

choruscas · 4 years ago

Text

suptober day 05: daydream

please let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list! (or removed if you prefer) it tags you in all my short stories like these so you never miss them!

librarian!castiel, mechanic!dean

Castiel’s tongue drew lines and circles all across Dean’s body. The pleasure was immeasurable to anything the mechanic had ever felt before in his life. Sure, there had been good one night stands, (Rhonda Hurley, Aaron Bass, just to name a few) but none of them have ever made Dean claw at the sheets, drawing blood from his lips from biting down too hard, and crying out pathetic bubbles of their name before.

His bare broad shoulders came down to cradle Dean with his hands as he prepped him, caressing his fingers around the ring of muscle and Dean arched his back into the teasing touch. Their chests touched, leaving no space between them, and Dean dug his face into the man’s collarbone, crying out against his skin. Castiel hushed him, reassuring him that he’ll be alright and that he won’t be hurt. Castiel made sure to tell Dean that if anything was too much, he had to tell him. Dean bobbed his head up and down, agreeing to his deal.

It was everything Dean ever dreamed of since his brother went to Stanford and he decided to move to California with him. And so much more. His blown out pupils, the way his left eyebrow raised in dominance, the smell of his beaded, shiny skin, the taste of his plump lips and curling tongue.

“Dean...” his tender whiskey voice called out shuddering against his skin in the pale moonlight of Dean’s apartment. “Dean... Dean...”

The mentioned smiled, love-sick and gooey from the voice of an angel calling his name.

“Dean!”

He cocked his head to the side, expecting to be faced with the smoky blue-eyed man with the best body ever, but instead he was faced with the ugly, mop-haired imbecile he got stuck with.

“Jesus Christ! Warn a man before you go all fuckin’ ninja on me.” Dean held his hands up, trying to protect himself.

“Don’t tell me you were daydreaming about the librarian again.” Sam bitch-faced, looking at his brother whose face was tinged pink.

Dean scoffed, accusatory. “I was not! I was... studying that sign over there.”

Sam looked over to the sign, right above the librarian’s head, that read “BE QUIET AND COURTEOUS PLEASE!” in big, bold letters.

“Yeah, sure.”

The librarian stood up from his front desk and walked to the back room. Dean opened his mouth to say something but disappointingly closed it back as he saw the man had left.

Sam stomped his foot. “Did you even hear what I said?”

The mechanic shook his head, looking up at his seven foot tall Big Foot of a brother. “Of course I did, don’t put your panties in a wad.”

“So you agree?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“I said: ‘are you ready to go?’, Dean.” Bitch face 2.0.

The older brother thinned his lips and stood up from the totally-didn’t-chose-this-one-to-watch-the-hot-fucking-librarian’s-shoulders-work-their-magic table, and followed Sam to the check-out desk.

Outside, the leaves were turning into a polyester-like orange, and the smell of Castiel’s pumpkin candle filled the library with the delicious smell. Every month, he changed out the candle, depending on the month or season or holiday. It was the crisp, early month of October, so the scent was fitting, like it normally was.

Dean stood on his tip-toes, brooding over Sam’s shoulder. “Whatcha checkin’ out this week? My Little Pony? Jesus Christ, last week it was Hello Kitty, now this week... you gotta little girl stuck in your noodle or somethin’?” he smiled mischievously.

Sam shucked the hair out of his face. “God, Dean. You’re so annoying.” he shook his head back and forth.

Just as he was finished saying his sentence, Dean pondered over to the entrance, decorated with festive fall colors of orange and gold. It was mostly portrayed towards children, as the cheesy slogans and brightly smiling characters popped compared to the rest of the place. It was all done by Castiel himself, as Dean had cautiously watched him climb up the ladder last week to staple the decorations on the doorframe. He’d never admit to this — just ask him — but he secretly hoped that Castiel would have fallen during that time so he could catch him, and hit him with the ol’ “you fell for me” trick in the book. However, Dean had learned that day that Castiel was very flexible and agile, so unfortunately, his wish was not granted.

“Hello, Sam.” a very familiar voice spoke out, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to spring up like flowers. “Dean.”

“Hi, Castiel.” Sam smiled, being sincere and actually a modern, civil person like Dean should be doing right now, but his embarrassment succumbed him and he did not make eye contact.

He soon learned that the carpet’s color of mushy pea green was very ugly.

“Hey...” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. The dude just had a wet daydream — hold up, is that even possible? Dean didn’t know, he just made it up — about the man. How on earth was he supposed to look at those piercing blue eyes he wished he could see closer? Possibly a little more bare, too.

Dean finally got the courage to look up to see Castiel scanning and stamping the books Sam had given him. Upon closer inspection, (granted, not from ten feet away like a total stalker) Castiel’s skin was still tanned from his beach trip to see his older brother in San Diego had still given him the same affect that it did in June. God, to see that bare chest.

Look anywhere but the librarian, dumbass. Wait no, that’ll make you look like a fucking idiot. Make subtle eye contact. Yeah. Subtle.

“Uhm, your decorations look nlice.” Dean smiled, bouncing on his feet.

“They look what?” Castiel pondered, looking up from the cash register, his face confused and his head tilted.

“Nice! I meant mi— no, nice. Nice is what I meant. They look nice.” he sheepishly looked around, heat rising in his face and tinting his ears with pink.

Sam, on the other hand, was getting a good kick out of it.

“Oh. Thank you. It’s made quite a few children happy and parents have smiled at me, so it was worth it.” The librarian politely nodded.

“Yeah, I bet that’s what the adults were smilin’ ‘bout...” he muttered underneath his breath.

“Do what?” Castiel responded, leaning his head slightly forward.

“Oh! Uh— nothin’.”

Castiel gave him a curt nod. “Okay. Well, thank you guys for coming! I hope to see you next Friday again?”

Sam snapped his fingers, and Dean practically hid behind his stump of a brother. “Oh. Speaking of which, are you busy this weekend?”

What the fuck?

“Unfortunately, yes I am. I’m visiting my brother again because he would like me to meet his new dog.” he smiled thinly, his eyes squinting, and Dean’s knees buckled.

“Oh, that’s too bad. Dean is free all this weekend, so I was tryna get you guys to hang out.”

Dean stepped on his foot and gritted his teeth. Again, what the fuck?!

“Well, I’ll still be here next week. So maybe he can formally ask me next week instead of through a messenger.” Dean peered over to see that Castiel’s face has blossomed with blushes, and he was nervously twirling and clicking a pen in his hand.

“Sounds great. See you, Castiel!” Sam called out, walking away from the desk and towards the entrance where they were supposed to leave.

Dean courageously eyed behind him to see that Castiel was staring at him leaving, and he waved to Dean and he sheepishly and embarrassingly waved back. “Alright, Sammy, you’re a fuckin’ idiot, I know that. But what the fuck was that?”

“I just got you a date with the hot librarian you daydream about.”

(tags below)

@potato-painter

#suptober #suptober20 #day 05 #day 5: daydream #daydream #daydreaming #dean winchester #mechanic!dean #castiel #librarian!castiel #sam winchester

76 notes · View notes

builder051 · 4 years ago

Text

Won't be your victim

Powers/No Powers. Bucky vs Depression storyline. TW for food mentions. (Reminder that I don't take food recs, but do occasionally venture there on my own.)

___________________________

We play games of love to avoid the depression We been here before and I won't be your victim

___________________________

Steve pours the rest of the pancake batter into the pan, wondering why he's bothered with the double batch. He'd gone right along with the usual recipe, even though things haven't been usual for a while. He sighs and drums the spatula gently against the edge of the stove, then goes in to flip the sizzling cake. It's too pale at the center, probably still full of raw batter.

Steve knows he's blown it; turning the pancake back over will only result in burnt edges. But it doesn't matter, though. It's not like anyone's going to eat this one anyway.

Bucky sits curled on the couch in the living room, periodically glancing up at the black television screen and, presumably, his own reflection. He doesn't look well. He hasn't for a few days, his face especially pale with dark shadows rimming his eyes. He hasn't been sleeping. Just lying there, breathing quietly while Steve rests overnight, then coming downstairs in the morning to take up space in stony silence until evening sets in again and he can feign tiredness so as to return to the bed.

When Steve first realized what was going on, he took a day off work to observe, then a second to encourage Bucky to do otherwise. When that didn't work, he called Bucky's psychiatrist.

"He won't do anything," he explained to Dr. Maximoff. "He's not sleeping either.

"He's maxed out on practically everything," the docter had said. "I can prescribe something for sleep, but you'll have to be careful with it. It's a controlled substance. you can't let him get ahold of it on his own."

"Don't worry; I keep everything locked up..."

Steve still hasn't brought himself to pick up the Ambien from the pharmacy. He keep's imaging Bucky in front of the linen clset where the meds are kept, lying on his face and foaming at the mouth, this time too deeply unconscious to spit whatever he's taken back up. Even though Steve doesn't tell him what's what, Bucky has an uncanny knack for being able to pry the lids off the most lethal of substances. Dealing with Bucky's mood is better than dealing with that.

Steve's startled back to the present when the scent of smoke rises to his nostrils. He quickly digs the spatula under the ruin of a pancake, now showing one side burned to a crisp.

Steve swears under his breath. Now the pale, almost certainly raw side is on the griddle again, creating a most unappetizing batter gusher between two smoky brown-black sides.

He glances over his shoulder as he lets the disaster languish in the pan. "You, uh, want a pancake, Buck?" Steve flips the burnt cake again, then pulls a plate from the cabinet so the seared bits won't soil the other pancakes already waiting. "I promise I won't give you this one." He's sure the odor of the char is apparent all through the house.

Bucky sits up a little and pauses, then slowly shakes his head. His mouth opens a sliver, but no sound comes out.

Steve's heart sinks a bit, and he realizes he's no longer hungry either. "Ok..." he sighs. He flips the crispy burned pancake into the garbage disposal, then covers the rest in plastic wrap.

"You want me to come sit? Watch TV?" Steve's grasping at straws now. Saturday is supposed to be their together time, and now Bucky's acting as if he couldn't care less. Steve's sure it's just the depression talking, but the shrug Bucky offers in response feels a little too much like a personal offense.

Steve turns around to grasp the edges of the sink. He drags in a slow breath, holds it for a moment, then lets it out, trying not to make a sound and alert Bucky to his frustration.

"Steve, I..." Bucky's sitting all the way up now. His voice holds a cryptic note, something desperate or apologetic or perhaps both.

"I know you're in a mood," Steve says into the broken silence. "And I'm sorry, I haven't been able to, you know, do anything about it."

"Not your job," Bucky mutters. He pulls his arm across his chest and twitches his stump shoulder. The gesture is clear, even if he can't make it properly.

"Well, it's my job to help you." Steve lets go of the sink and turns to face Bucky, though there's still half the downstairs between them. "All I can say is that I love you. I care about you. I want you to... feel better."

"So do I," Bucky huffs. "D'you think I don't?"

"Of course not." Steve feels sick to his stomach. He peels up a corner of the plastic wrap and tears off the side of a pancake, then jams it into his mouth. He chews twice, then swallows, hoping the carb load will absorb the sour taste growing at the back of his throat.

"You sure you don't want one of these?" Steve asks. "They're good for feeling better."

"Glad it helped you." Bucky's tone is hollow. Not rude exactly, but cold.

Steve removes the pancake pan from the still-warm burner and puts the kettle on the stove instead. He'll warm Bucky up into personhood, something he probably should've done days ago.

"Give that just a minute to boil," Steve says. Then he slowly enters the living room and pulls the afghan off the back of the sofa. "Here." He unfolds the blanket and holds it open, ready to spread it over Bucky's curled form.

Bucky maneuvers himself into a tighter ball, ready to accept the blanket, but shying away from Steve's hands. It's another hearty disappointment that Steve tries not to show on his face. Their relationship isn't new; they have no need to avoid each other's touch. Hypersensitivity is a thing, and Steve knows it, but this doesn't feel like it. The look on Bucky's face when he approaches isn't uncontrolled panic. It's just frustration. Unhappiness. Disdain.

"Alright. There you go." Steve pretends he doesn't notice Bucky's uncomfortable shiver and tucks the blanket up around his shoulders. "That ok?"

Bucky gives a curt nod.

"Ok." The kettle in the kitchen begins to whistle, and Steve turns his attention to preparing the tea he knows neither of them will drink. Once the leaves have steeped enough, he carries the mugs to the coffee table and sits on the opposite end of the couch, careful so as not let so much as a stray movement of his elbow brush against Bucky's swaddled feet.

"Buck, I..." Steve picks up his mug, which is hot enough to turn his palms red. "I love you. I want to be with you."

"Mm."

Steve looks sideways out of the corner of his eye just enough to see Bucky's minute nod. He lets out the tiniest breath of relief, then adjusts the mug in his hands to see if they've yet burned to a crisp.

#marvel #mcu #captain america #steve rogers #bucky barnes #winter soldier #powers/no powers #powers/no powers choose your own advendure #depression #hurt/comfort #sickfic #angst #food tw #stucky

8 notes · View notes

manesalex · 4 years ago

Text

I'm still thinking you could be the one

Michael and Alex enjoy their first night at the hotel Isobel booked for them to make up for ruining their weekend. Part 5 of the Resentment series, though you don’t have to have read it all to enjoy this. This one is mostly smut. Finally.

Warnings for smut and also references to a past panic attack.

***

“So, room service?” Alex asks hopefully after tossing his bag on the bed and sitting down on the mattress. He knows Isobel has gotten them reservations at some swanky place for tonight, their first night in Albuquerque, but he’s had a long day of work, followed by travel, and he’s got a new prosthetic he’s trying to adjust to. So, yes, he can force himself to walk more, but he’s not sure he’ll be able to stand putting his prosthetic back on tomorrow if he does.

Not long ago, he’d have forced himself to go anyway and suffered for it, but he and Michael have worked so hard on their communication. And he finally feels as secure as he can in the knowledge that Michael cares about his needs, as well as his boundaries.

Michael just smiles at him easily, already looking around for a menu, holding it up triumphantly when he finds it and making his way to the bed, where Alex sits, massaging his leg. “She did say we could spend the weekend fucking our brains out if we wanted. Don’t think she’ll mind if we don’t make it out of the hotel room our first night here.”

“You know, I actually did have a thought about that,” Alex admits nervously. He doesn’t want to pressure Michael into something he’s not ready for, but he also doesn’t want them to both hold back because they’re afraid of hurting each other. So he focuses on his prosthetic, carefully removing it and setting it to the side.

“I’m listening,” Michael replies easily.

“I know you’re concerned about… that happening again.” He knows how his panic attack terrified Michael and how scared he is of hurting Alex further. “But our video chats have been going so well that I thought maybe we could try just telling each other what we want? I don’t think that’ll happen again if I know what’s coming.”

“You gonna order me around, darlin’?” Michael asks. Alex looks up to see a filthy grin on his face.

“The plan was more suggest than order, but we can always do that instead,” Alex can’t help but grin in return. It’s not like he doesn’t know what Michael enjoys. Or that one of those things is Alex being in control.

“I’m game,” Michael replies with a shrug. “But can we start with me pampering you?” His hands are hovering above Alex’s sock, a question in his eyes and Alex nods, watching Michael remove it and massage gentle circles into his stump.

Michael starts out gentle and then adds more pressure as he goes, strong fingers kneading his sore muscles. He responds so quickly to Michael’s touch, like always. And Michael notices instantly, moving to bend down. “Is this alright?” Michael asks, lips hovering over Alex’s knee.

“Yes,” Alex breathes out. His breath catches as Michael’s lips brush over his skin.

“And this?” Michael asks, moving upward, hovering above Alex’s thigh.

“Yeah,” Alex replies, voice rougher. He wants to reach down and twine his fingers in Michael’s curls, but, instead, he digs his fingers into the comforter.

Michael presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of Alex’s thigh, sucking just a bit, drawing a moan out of him.

“And this?” Michael asks, hovering above Alex’s boxer briefs, on eye level with his length.

“Please,” Alex grits out, clinging tighter to the comforter. He can feel Michael’s hot breath through the thin fabric and it’s almost too much for him after so long.

Michael takes his time, leaning in close, pressing his face against the fabric, inhaling, before pressing soft, open mouth kisses against him through the fabric. His fingers are hovering over the waistband when he asks, “Can I?”

“Fuck, yes,” Alex manages.

So Michael slowly pulls them down, guiding Alex to lift his hips, face close to his cock.

Alex can’t help but be blown away by the look of wonder on Michael’s face as he takes him in, eyes not moving from his dick as he pulls the black fabric down far enough that Alex can kick it off.

Then Michael leans back, taking all of him in, “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

Alex blushes, still unused to the attention and the praise, but the look on Michael’s face has him pinned.

“Is this okay?” Michael asks, leaning closer, mouth hovering over Alex’s length, hand just an inch away.

“Mhmm,” Alex manages, hands clenching in the fabric of the comforter.

“Gonna need you to use your words, darlin’,” Michael replies with a teasing smile.

“God-fucking-dammit, Michael, please!” Alex practically shouts.

That pulls a pleased laugh out of Michael. He surprises Alex by reaching out, grabbing his right hand and guiding him to open it, placing it on his head, against his soft curls, “I want you to touch me, Alex.” Then, warm, whiskey-colored eyes on Alex the entire time, he slowly wraps his own hand around Alex’s base, mouth opening and taking him in.

It’s overwhelming after so long without and Alex has to use every bit of his willpower to hold still as Michael moves.

He’s gorgeous, full lips spread wide around Alex’s cock, eyes dark and heated as his head bobs up and down. And Alex lets his hand stray from Michael’s curls, down to trace his cheek with his thumb, down to those wet lips, moving down to his full lower lip.

Alex doesn’t know whether it’s the way Michael’s eyes fall closed with pleasure at Alex’s touch or the vibrations from the satisfied hum Michael lets out, but it’s not long before Alex is coming and Michael is swallowing every last drop of it down.

When he’s done, he guides Michael off of him, smiling fondly at the disappointed noise he makes and the way it quickly changes to a contented hum as he nuzzles into Alex’s hip.

“Thank you, Michael,” Alex says softly, digging his fingers in those soft curls, delighting in the way Michael leans into his touch. “Why don’t you come here and kiss me?” He scoots up until he’s leaning back against the headboard, legs straight on the bed, beckoning Michael to come closer.

Michael grins in response, crawling up the bed and pressing his lips against Alex’s gently, mouth opening again at Alex’s encouragement. He can taste himself on Michael’s tongue. He takes his time just kissing Michael like they haven’t had enough time to in the past.

“I want you to straddle me while you kiss me,” Alex says carefully when he pulls away a bit, waiting until Michael gives him a bright smile before continuing. “Hands above the waist, but your hips can do whatever they need to.”

And that’s how he ends up with a lap full of a very enthusiastic Michael Guerin, one hand in his hair, the other braced on his shoulder as his hips rock slowly against Alex. Alex lets himself cup Michael’s face as he kisses him, the other hand on his back. He only pulls away to ask, “Any rules about where I can touch you?”

“Fuck, no, Alex, just please touch me,” Michael manages to get out between kisses along Alex’s jaw, hips already starting to move faster. Michael is hard against him, rocking his hips frantically, and it feels so damn good that Alex doesn’t know how he survived so long without this. He needs Michael’s lips against his own and Michael’s body pressed close to his more than he needs air.

He blindly reaches with one hand for the bag he’d tossed on the bed when they came in, sliding out the familiar bottle and popping the cap, trying not to let Michael distract him as he coats two of his fingers with lube.

“This okay?” he finally asks after he’s hauled Michael closer with one hand, the other just barely sliding beneath his boxers.

“Fuck, Alex, please,” Michael manages between breaths, nodding rapidly before diving in to kiss Alex again. He knows how close Michael is, the little desperate noises he makes just before he comes. They’re one of his favorite sounds in the world.

He slowly slides his fingers between Michael’s cheeks until he finds his hole, fingers just barely dipping inside as he circles it.

And then Michael is cursing and coming against him and Alex continues to tease his entrance through it, letting himself enjoy the way Michael looks, head thrown back in pleasure, face contorted, mouth open.

And then, finally, Michael collapses against him, burying his face against Alex’s shoulder as he catches his breath.

Alex just cups his head with his clean hand, waiting for him to catch his breath before asking, “You okay?”

Michael just hums against him, sounding perfectly content. “So good,” he manages eventually. And then, moments later. “What about you?”

Alex can’t help but laugh at that, like he hadn’t enjoyed having Michael writhing on his lap or the blow job before it. “So good, baby.” He knows Michael won’t let that go for long and, really, he already has plans, but he’s perfectly content to wait, as long as he has Michael in his arms.

#missingalexmanes #missingalexweekend #roswell fic #malex fic #roswell new mexico #michael guerin #i love (1) actual disaster #alex manes #actual cinnamon roll #protect him at all costs #michael x alex #otp: home can be a person #*myfic

74 notes · View notes