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gasolinecookie · 4 months ago

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☆•° SHADOWMILK FIC BELOW!!! °•☆

k so this is my first time posting my fanfic onto tumblr. farts. lmk if i need to do anything special or not

Content; soul jam freakery, pwp, non-penetrative sex, switch shadow milk, switch pure vanilla, cookiefucking ig, brief mentions of purelily(?), 3k+ words :3

Pure Vanilla stood in a glade of flowers. As far as the eye could see, there were hills lined with hundreds and thousands of flowers. A shy moon peered over a hilltop, stars winking playfully across a picturesque, midnight-blue sky. For a moment, he just observed them.

On one hill surface, it was all coated in brilliant yellow and white petals. Yellow carnations, baby’s breath, chamomile, daisies, honeysuckle, white hyacinth, white roses. A beautiful cloud, light shining through each split where the sun kissed the feathery vapor.

Another swath of blue flowers lined another hill. Hydrangeas, irises, delphiniums, hyacinth, and morning glories. As Pure Vanilla heaved a relaxed sigh, inhaling the sweet scent of the floral arrangements around him, he noticed but a single flower at his feet.

A forget-me-not.

The rest of the flowers in the field burnt up, despite there being no fire present. They simply crumbled on their own, squeezing into themselves and turning into blackened char. The sweet smell of pollen and nectar and the midnight stars was replaced by the acrid stench of strawberry jam and burnt leaves. Ah. This must be a dream.

"Y'know, my silly little Vanilly, this has been in your cards for a loooong time coming," came a playful voice, an idle teasing to it, as if it were a conversation between old friends. Pure Vanilla didn’t bother to turn around towards it. In a way, it was really a reunion of sorts. “Have you missed me?”

Pure Vanilla stayed staring, fixedly, almost mechanically, at the single, twinkling flower before him. He wouldn’t give Shadow Milk the satisfaction of seeing him look startled, or even seeing his face at all. “Not in the slightest,” he replied with a sigh, the forget-me-not dancing in the painfully burnt nighttime air.

Hands wrapped around his eyes.

He resisted the urge to immediately elbow the foe behind him, or thrash out of the (admittedly gentle— why was it so gentle?) grasp of Shadow Milk, but he steadied his will, staying perfectly still. A warmth, a slow embrace, spread across his back as Shadow Milk pulled himself flush with the back of Pure Vanilla’s robes.

“Vannilly…” Shadow Milk cooed in a drawn-out tone. “If you want to look at anything ever again, look at me. You know that I can hear what you’re thinking. You can’t ignore me forever!”

Pure Vanilla sucked in a breath. He knew reading cookie’s minds wasn’t impossible— he himself could do it if he tried. Yet, he wasn’t sure if Shadow Milk truly knew how, if he was bluffing, or if you even could read one’s mind inside of a dream.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to risk it.

“That power is not yours, beast.” Pure Vanilla didn’t utter another word, keeping his lips drawn tightly together. Shadow Milk simply wouldn’t earn it from him, no matter how much he toyed with him.

When the ravaged flower field disintegrated around him, and reformed into a chapel, and Shadow Milk vanished from his back to reform in front of him, Pure Vanilla felt almost let-down, as ridiculous of a notion that it was, that Shadow Milk hadn’t tried harder to make him speak. Two rows of pews lined the rectangular room, highlighted by the beautiful moonlight coalescing through the windows. It streamed through blue, stained-glass windows— no doubt, they bore imagery of the wielder of the Light of Deceit.

Pure Vanilla felt a tightness about his limbs, and suddenly he noticed tendrils creeping around the floor, darkness forming and deforming vague shapes of tentacles as they wove between the pews. As he glanced towards the throne, between his bangs, there was a beast hovering above him, a sadistic grin twisting his cutesy, mis-matched features into a mockery of a cookie's face. Shadow Milk cookie, a tyrannical creature born of lies and falsehoods. There were many ways to end a dream, so Pure Vanilla quickly shuffled through his options, mentally. He didn’t want to even give this creature a chance to speak more. There was a war to fight, and it needn’t be distracted with silly things like dreams.

"Now, quit it with that look. We all know you can't do anything to escape from this dream, now! Stupid 'Nilla!" Shadow Milk cackled, as if he really could hear Pure Vanilla’s thoughts, and sure enough, more mysterious darkness rose from the floor, binding Pure Vanilla by the ankles. They slithered up Pure Vanilla’s slender legs, tracing his figure, wriggling across each inch of his dough. "Hey, didn’t you say you were going to protect everyone? That you didn’t have things like nightmares? You're the worst liar of us all. Which is why I'm going to take my Soul Jam back from you, Vanilly.”

Pure Vanilla glowered at this foe. He may have a point-- Pure Vanilla was not always the most truthful, as much as his jam implied it. Yet, every time he lied, it was in the name of justice. In the name of keeping the peace, and ruling over what he needed to protect. So, that was different. It certainly wasn't the shameful secret that Shadow Milk was making it out to be. If it was leveraged against him, though... he wasn't sure what he'd do. He just had to escape the dream before it got to that point.

Then, of course, in his moment of distraction, Shadow Milk took it as an excuse to approach Vanilla, looking down on him as the tendrils suddenly squeezed around his dough, crumbling the surface ever-so-imperceptibly. It burned. There was truly nowhere he could go, as far as his eyes could see, no way to fight against this darkness— he was caged in like a feral animal, and felt merely inches away from being provoked to fight like one.

Shadow Milk stepped towards the altar, finally lowering himself to standing height instead of floating. The porcelain tiles hissed as his feet touched them. With a gentle motion, he ascended the half-stairs, and settled atop the marble altartop. With one hand, he beckoned to Pure Vanilla, and he was dragged forward and onto his knees by the shadows binding his legs. Shadow Milk gazed down at him, cooing softly as one might to a stray animal. Pure Vanilla resisted the urge to growl at him in response.

"Don't worry, silly. This won't hurt a bit, okay? I'm gonna warm your jam up... bet no one's ever done that before, hmm, tightwad? Ahaha!" Shadow Milk cackled, and slowly rolled his sleeve a bit further back up his arm. His forearm was littered in hundreds of tiny scars that Pure Vanilla elected to ignore. This psychopath's sob story was worthless to him; he had probably just gotten into fights, or ran through brambles in boredom.

It was just as meaningless as the rest of his deceitful actions.

The shadows yanked Pure Vanilla upwards, suspending him off the floor by their grasp on him, and giving his knees an air-borne surface to rest upon. Being pulled forward so that his chest was level with Shadow Milk’s knees, he glanced up at the beast who held him in place. “Oh, my. Now that’s a sexy face on you, Vanilly. You look so angry…! What, going to crumble me with your teeth?” Shadow Milk offered with a smirk that only surfaced more and more suggestions in Pure Vanilla’s mind.

Shadow Milk’s hand found the side of his face, and it cupped his cheek. Without missing a beat, and keeping eye-contact with Shadow Milk, Pure Vanilla parted his lips and put his mouth around Shadow Milk’s hand, as if to bite it open. If this went as planned, Shadow Milk would surely become distracted and lose his grip on Pure Vanilla’s dream. What he didn’t expect, somehow, was the look of sheer masochistic elation that crossed Shadow Milk’s features, like a cloud crossing over the path of the sun and darkening a summer day.

“Does that feel good?” Vanilla asked in utter disbelief, whispering the words across Shadow Milk’s dough, far more sensually than intended, as he fixed him with a stare. “Ah, you’ve always been strange…” he continued, “but truly, I could never have expected to what degree.” He just had to keep throwing Shadow Milk off of his game. Then, he’d be able to slip away.

Then, unexpectedly Shadow Milk brought his other hand (not the one cupping his cheek) up to Pure Vanilla’s upper chest, and began to toy with his Soul Jam, grazing his finger crossed it’s blue surface. It was an overwhelming sensation, causing him to cry out— ah, why was that so sensitive? Vanilla knew they were connected to their senses, as his own had flickered when he was in pain, but he didn't expect it to literally feel like his soul was being stroked along the edge by Shadow Milk, a wanton noise peeling itself from his lips. It was a tightness and blossoming in his chest, all while Shadow Milk's multi-colored eyes, on his face and on his body, seemed to be watching the faces he was making with curiosity raptly.

Pure Vanilla did try to reign in his expression, concealing his faint noises of surprise by biting his lower lip. It was made vastly more difficult by the fact that his legs were restrained and he couldn't simply run from this.

Normally, the moment before the villain could enact their awful plan, a hero would come bursting into the room, and save the hostage just as it started to look hopeless. Well, it seemed futile to resist, to Pure Vanilla, and there was yet to be another cookie within sight. No, it was all those piercing, mis-matched eyes.

Mis-matched eyes that were gobbling up eyefuls of Pure Vanilla's pathetic condition greedily, lustfully. "I just love how this looks on you," Shadow Milk whispered, sultry, to the distressed monarch before him. It was a new thrill to have this brilliant leader finally subjugated before him, finally brought (literally) to his knees by Shadow Milk's plans. It's not as if he couldn't have potentially seen it coming, but there were so many possibilities for losing or capturing Pure Vanilla every day that Shadow Milk cookie had simply taken to ignoring them.

He stroked along the edge of the Soul Jam with one pallid blue hand, the other halfway covering the flustered face of Pure Vanilla.

"Shall I keep going?" Shadow Milk offered with nothing short of a insane grin, just feeling the waves of pleasure rolling off of his body from just the blonde’s expressions. Yet, that grin was just the sort of thing that would perfectly throw Pure Vanilla off his game. "Seems like you're plenty ready for the warm-up, needy-Nilly.”

"Don't do this," Pure Vanilla said, eyes furrowing— though, it just looked like he was relaxing into the pleasure even more, "I'm not going to do whatever you want." Oh? Shadow Milk smelled a Class A lie around those words, like curdled milk atop an otherwise perfect latte. All it took was a little teasing to bring out the deceitful side of the blonde, and Shadow Milk had yet to tell even a single lie. Frankly, he knew which one of them deserved the Soul Jam more, based on that.

Teasingly slow, Shadow Milk reached a blue hand deep into the jam on Pure Vanilla’s chest, sinking into its substance like a cushion; the tone of his dough and the surface of the soul were the same color, as if they were always meant to be put together this way. He slowly pushed in, first inching in his fingers, then his palms, and then the beginnings of his wrist. It pulsated around him— it wasn't meant to be touched like this, but nevertheless, it burned in a way that was both painful and pleasing. It seemed almost to him as if he had stuck his arm into a pocket dimension somehow contained within Pure Vanilla's body. He would’ve been curious as to how it felt, if he hadn't tried such a thing with his half of the jam. And by his own experiences, he knew exactly how overwhelming it was.

“How’s that…? You know, this is why you’re mine. Without me, you wouldn’t be able to feel this way. Without my Soul Jam on your body, you’d never have known this pleasure,” he cooed, leaning down to speak into Pure Vanilla’s ear as he slowly began to swirl his hand and the tips of his fingers around inside of Pure Vanilla.

Pure Vanilla suppressed a strangled moan at the intrusive feeling, immediately attempting to further cover his mouth with one of his own hands. Not that it lasted long, with one of Shadow Milk's tendrils quickly ripping it away, but an effort had been made to at least save himself part of the humiliation. "Please..." Pure Vanilla whispered, not being quite sure what he was begging for, other than that Shadow Milk was sure not to provide it, if he asked.

Shadow Milk made a satisfied grin and hum as Pure Vanilla's mouth was re-uncovered, wriggling his fingers inside the goopy substance of the jam until Pure Vanilla couldn't help but moan out again. It felt like someone had reached directly into his chest and was playing harp with his bare nerves; too overwhelming to form words, but still amazing.

"Oh, wow!" Shadow Milk giggled, tensing his fingers to squeeze the surface of the Soul Jam's glistening tension. "I can feel it, pulsing. It wants us to do this, doesn't it? Just think of how powerful we'll be together, Nilly..."

Pure Vanilla full-body shuddered at the nickname, feeling a familiar, aroused tingle in his back from the jester's rough voice; somehow, that managed to be almost more intimate than Shadow Milk's fingers inside of his soul. "It's too— too much," he finally managed, squirming away from Shadow Milk.

That's when it happened: Shadow Milk curled his hands through the jam, grabbing it like a handle from the inside, and yanking Pure Vanilla forward by it. The utterly debauched sound that fell from Pure Vanilla's mouth was both a shriek of pain and a guttural cry of pleasure: he wasn't sure which part was more earnest. "No running away, now! We've only just started, Vailly!"

With that, he pulled Pure Vanilla up against him into his lap, still holding him by the inside of his jam. This time, Pure Vanilla managed to keep it at a controlled yelp, but it did nothing to diminish the lustful burning he felt in every inch of his dough. He saw his Soul Jam faintly flicker with burnt out light— he was suffering, and he couldn't help but feel as though his perverse pleasure derived from it was a betrayal of everything his Light stood for, everything that he and the others like White Lily had fought for.

Just as he made the thought, Shadow Milk tsked aloud. “Don’t think of her. I can see it on your pathetic face— she doesn’t own you, I do. She wouldn’t make you feel like this, right…?” he asked, relaxing his grip on Pure Vanilla’s jam and returning to stroking it gently from the inside. It felt like stepping into a hot room on a cold, winter’s afternoon— it tingled all over Vanilla’s body, causing him to emit a soft squeak as the feeling bubbled up into every square inch of his vanilla dough.

"Now that you're up here..." Shadow murmured into Pure Vanilla's ear, pulling him closer to his chest. Vanilla couldn’t help but smell the faint aroma of blueberries on his skin. He managed to grasp onto Shadow Milk’s shoulder, bracing himself through his panic at being pulled, and steadying his pleasure. "Let's try something, okay? This'll feel even better than just my hands," Shadow Milk promised, and then their Soul Jams gently touched together as he pulled Pure Vanilla up closer into him, engaging him in a sloppy kiss.

Pure Vanilla could suddenly feel everything in Shadow Milk’s body and nothing in his own all at once. He was somehow two sets of lips, locked in an embrace that smeared frosting lewdly across faces, he was the future, he was the past, he was Blueberry Milk and he was being torn apart in luxurious torment and lust.

After either all of time, or just a second, Shadow Milk shoved him away with a sudden gasp, multichrome eyes going wide. His face was brushed in a dark blue flush, giving him a healthy looking bake, for once. He panted, licking his blue lips, causing Pure Vanilla's smudged off-white frosting to smear slightly across them both. "Woah there, Vanilla! Getting ahead of yourself!" Shadow Milk chuckled, his eyes slightly too wide for it to really come across as a properly controlling order. Had he really not predicted what this would do? Had Shadow Milk truly been unable to predict how this would feel?

That, or he was simply more sensitive than Pure Vanilla. When was the last time Shadow Milk had touched another cookie, dough-to-dough, after all?

Shadow Milk was overwhelmed. When he had touched his own half of the Jam, it hadn’t felt even half that intense. No, that was a splash of cold water, and this was a dunk in the ocean. Oh, God, he felt so one with Pure Vanilla. What had he been thinking? He needed… Vanilla to become him, not the other way around…!

Pure Vanilla's grasp on Shadow’s shoulders tightened, sensing his weakness like blood in the water. "Isn't this what you wanted? Isn't this what you forced me to do?" Pure Vanilla spoke forcefully, his voice carrying more venom than he ever let it have. Vanilla was purity, he was a figure of angelicness, forgiveness. Yet, now that he had felt what it was like to be him, he had a taste of being like Shadow Milk, feeling how Shadow Milk felt; a lingering flavor of blueberry and strawberry jam on his tongue.

He found he liked it.

He found it was the bit of Deceit inside of him, that sort of sadistic joy he found at Shadow Milk's startled expression, the nervous twitch to his pupils as they raked over Pure Vanilla's body. Glancing down to where Shadow Milk's eyes were fixed, he saw that his Soul Jam was... slightly melted, in appearance. Bits of it dripped loosely in comparison to its typically crystalline appearance, and Shadow Milk eyed it with trepidation, yet enthusiasm.

"Again," Pure Vanilla found his voice demanding, despite originally being the one who disagreed with this whole arrangement. Surely, it was the pieces of Shadow Milk's Soul Jam that were simply combining with his own. They were extended body parts, nervous systems— as if a second brain purely to use magic existed in the beasts and the ancient heroes.

After all, this was just a dream. Pure Vanilla could do whatever he wanted with this blue freak; he had given up on escaping. He’d have fun until Shadow Milk had enough and ended the dream. It was his domain, after all— it’s not like Vanilla could do anything that Shadow Milk couldn’t escape from at his very own will. Besides, when was the last time that Pure Vanilla was allowed to have fun?

With a sudden lean forward, Pure Vanilla caught the dough of Shadow Milk's neck in his mouth, dragging their Soul Jams into another gooey connection. Devouring him, tasting the faint flavor of blueberries and darkness and sweet, fresh milk, on his dough. It made a frankly lewd sound, and Pure Vanilla could feel himself losing his purity yet again, slipping into the body and mind of the insane man before him as if it were his fine Sunday clothes. A gratuitous moan rippled from Shadow Milk's lips. "Oh, Vanilla..." he managed, trying again to pull back from their embrace.

No, that wouldn't do. Pure Vanilla ran his hand up the back of Shadow Milk's head, feeling emboldened by the Light of Deceit that was flowing through him, the contradicting nature of the powers within him. He grabbed a fistful of Shadow Milk's hair, and gave it a harsh tug as he bit down more harshly on his neck. The resulting sound was something Pure Vanilla wished he could hear for the rest of his life. A debauched shriek, rough in the quality of the jester's voice, of his own name. "N-Nilla...!"

Pure Vanilla paused for just a moment, teeth in Shadow’s dough, paralyzed by the intoxication of lust. With that, he was giving Shadow Milk another chance to struggle against him, but it was futile in earnest. Shadow was only doing it for the fun of it: both of them knew he could run whenever he wanted. Two-toned eyes gazed up at Vanilla in all of their sex and pain-tinged glory. "No running away. We're just getting started." Shadow Milk’s expression grew even more lustfully destroyed with the idea of Vanilla echoing his words, his earnest expression, with just the faintest hint of a smile on his blue-smudged lips.

☆°•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~●°☆

OKAY BYE THATS ALL THANK YOU

Gasoline Cookie OUT !! (feel free to send me requests in asks!)

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eclipsturns · 2 months ago

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⎯⎯⎯⎯ wine not ? . . .

the apartment glows soft under the hum of string lights, a cocoon of warmth against the dusk creeping through y/n’s windows. she’s fussing with the table—two mismatched plates, a candle flickering in a chipped holder—when the knock comes, steady and sure.

chris stands there, broad-shouldered in a faded green jacket, dark hair curling at the edges, a shy grin tugging his lips. in one hand, a bouquet of daisies, petals trembling like they’re nervous too; in the other, a brown paper bag, edges crinkling, and a plush teddy bear, small and brown, dangling by his side.

“these are f’you,” he says, voice a gentle rumble, handing her the flowers first, then the bear. “saw it at the store, looked like you, all soft ‘n’ shit. sprayed it with my cologne so y’got me even when m’not around.” she takes it, pressing it to her nose—woodsy, warm, chris—and her chest flutters, a quiet laugh spilling out.

“you’re so sweet it’s stupid,” she teases, stepping aside to let him in, the daisies already finding a home in a mason jar on the counter.

he shrugs off his jacket, revealing a plain white tee stretched over his frame, and sets the bag down: pizza, still steaming through the box, garlic knots twisted and golden, a little tub of marinara glinting red. “deal was i’d bring the eats,” he says, unpacking with care, his fingers brushing hers as he slides a plate her way.

she leans in quickly, impulsively kissing his cheek, soft and fleeting, and he freezes, a flush creeping up his neck. “damn, warn a guy,” he chuckles, but his hand finds her waist, pulling her close for a real kiss, lips warm, moving slowly against hers, tasting of mint and promise.

they settle on the couch, cross-legged, knees knocking, trading bites and words. “you ever burn a pizza this bad?” she asks, nodding at a charred edge, and he grins.

“once... nick almost called the fire department.”

her laugh fills the space, bright and unguarded, and he watches her, eyes soft, like she’s a melody he can’t unhear.

“what’s y’drink game?” he prompts, and she rises, hips swaying as she pads to the kitchen, returning with a bottle of red wine—deep, ruby, catching the light.

“thought we’d class it up,” she says, pouring a glass, but chris tilts his head, gentle.

“don’t really drink—s’cool if you do, though. i’m not fussed.” his tone’s kind, no edge, just chris's steady, honest vibe.

she pauses, glass hovering, then smirks, “always three steps ahead,” and ducks back to the fridge, pulling out a cold pepsi, silver can sweating. “knew you’d probably say that, so i gotcha covered.” he takes it, cracking it open with a hiss, the fizz a quiet song between them.

they eat, pizza grease on their fingers, garlic knots torn and shared, pepsi and wine clinking in a mismatched toast. the night deepens, slow and syrupy, his laughter softening into something heavier, his gaze lingering on her lips, her collarbone, the way her tee slips off one shoulder.

“you’re so damn pretty, y’know that?” he murmurs, voice dipping, and she rolls her eyes, but her pulse quickens, a warmth spreading she can’t blame on the wine.

he shifts closer—tentative, then bold—fingers brushing her hand, tracing up her arm, a silent question in his eyes. “you’r wine’s sittin’ there lookin’ lonely,” he says, softer now, and she arches a brow, “thought you didn’t drink?”

he shrugs, a flicker of mischief breaking through. “maybe i’ll try it, but different way.”

he takes the glass, dips his fingers in and drags them slow across her neck, painting a jagged line, the liquid cold against her heat. she gasps, soft, and he leans in, kissing it off, lips sucking gentle, tongue flicking, wine and skin blending tart and sweet.

it builds, deliberate, molten, and he dips again, trails wine down her arm, her wrist, licking each path clean, his breath hitching as her fingers curl into his hair.

“chris—” she whispers, half-laugh, half-plea, and he pulls back, eyes dark, glass trembling in his grip.

“you trust me?” he asks, voice husky, and she nods, breathless, as he nudges her back—flat on the couch—tugging her shorts down, baring her to the dim glow.

he pours the wine slowly, red liquid spilling over her thighs, pooling at her core, a ruby sheen glinting on her skin.

“fuck, you look like art,” he mutters, reverent, then dives his mouth on her, tongue plunging through the wine, lapping at her folds, her clit, a messy, fervent dance of wet and heat.

she moans—loud, unraveling—hips bucking as he sucks, slow then fast, the tartness of the wine mixing with her slick, his groans vibrating against her. “chris, oh god,” she chokes, hands fisting his shirt, and he grips her thighs, spreading her wider, drinking her deep.

wine and her, a feast he won’t quit.

she shatters, a sudden cry tearing free, body arching as she cums, pulsing against his tongue, the best she’s ever felt, electric and endless. he pulls back, lips stained red, grinning soft and dazed, wiping his chin.

“told ya i’d make it good.”

︶ ͡ ۫ © eclipsturns 's all rights deserved !ㅤ (｡>﹏<｡) ⠀⠀𔘓⠀

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ⚡︎ ㅤ𝑀𝐘 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ..! @courta13 @marrykisskilled @chrislova @sturnshood @inspiredangel @strnilolover @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @ariieeesworld @pixie-sticks-are-good @luvjaeeee @sturnslutz @mattswifeyy @oopsiedaisydeer @v4lsturn @pair-of-pantaloons @idkwhatthisevenislol @sturn777 @whore4mattsturniolo @mattchalattee @madifilipowiczisthebest @fratbrochrisgf @sturniolo101 @ivysturnss @mattsatellite @sturnsblogs @izzylovesmatt @allisonclairee @m4gz-png @mr-wrinkleton @bluestriips @surprisecurlyfriesbackup @immaqulate @wysmols @onevison @chrepsi @mattslolita @ribbonlovergirl @milo-the-dog @madisturni @ariestrxsh @myluck4u-com @trevorsturniolo

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alexwake · 13 days ago

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"We had reports that somebody was using the property to stash drugs. I don't need to come inside, but I want to search around the outside and see if anything's been buried recently."

"Search warrant for what exactly," Daisy questions. "I'm not quite sure I understand what is going on."

#char: daisy wei

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incorrect-yorha · 2 years ago

Conversation

Daisy: But, I think I know what's going on in your head.

Lily: Oh, well then, welcome to the terror dome.

#s: yorha #char: daisy #char: lily

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aquato-family-circus · 1 year ago

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bob told daisy that she was a cabbage patch kid and she also has an original cabbage patch kid she considers siblings with her horrible halloween decoration doll she loves so very much so she thinks of that whole concept as like the typical cutesy fairytale stuff but theres blood and gravestones not in a scary way its just there neutrally

#cospn2 #fan char #daisy fbz

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sixtymillionoverdueideas · 3 days ago

Note

violent

[ because deidara likes to flirt with danger and piss sasori off lol ]

//deidara no--

Sasori's head spun a perfect semicircle as he turned to who dared- His tail was already strangulating his assailant, link after wooden link coiling around Deidara like a squeaky toy. The tip rattled in his face, a generous warning. Sasori was not always so kind as to let people off with a warning instead of an outright poisonous death. "What do you think you are doing."

#misc.#ic: the desert where the sun flees; rest he beyond beast nor man #char: sasori of the red sands -- the silent #//a-daisy-reply #//deidara why have you done this to yourself

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 5 months ago

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What The Heart Desires ❤️💚 (BakuKiriMina x Black!F!Reader 18+ Short Fic)

❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Kirishima Ejirou x Mina Ashido x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which two lonely-hearted girls make a wish on a star one Christmas Eve for their hearts’ desires: a Daddy Dom. What they don’t expect that night after their annual Christmas party is to receive that wish in two. When their very special party guests and secret crushes show up unannounced at their door proclaiming their romantic feelings and that these two cuties are theirs, what will our two lonely hearts do? Will they have to choose?

Tags: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Pro!KiriBakuMina (Late 20s-Early 30s); Bimbo!sub!Mina x Bimbo!sub!Reader; Dom!KiriBaku; Fantasy; Comedy; Size Difference; Aphrodisiac; Dubcon/R*pe; Body/Chest Worship; Scar Appreciation; Foreplay; Messy Kissing; Spit Play; Cum Play; S*x w/ S*x Toys; Anal Play; Spanking; Choking; Hair-Pulling; Degradation/Praise; Daddy Kink; DDLG; Mild BDSM; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Slutifcation; Objectification; Multiple Positions (Doggystyle, Missionary, Daisy Chain, etc.); Polyamorous; Everyone Is Bi; Mutual Os; Creampies; Ownership; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Chapters: ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR. FIVE. SIX. BONUS CHAPTER.

❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️

FOUR: TWO FOR ONE SPECIAL.

You and Mina gape in shock at each other, surprised and astounded by your second surprise visitor of the night.

Bakugou is here?! At this time of night?!

Your heart is hammering in your chest, overstimulated by the amount of activity that has happened so far tonight. You thought tonight was just going to be about you Mina, and sleeping by the fire.

Kiri looks just as confused as you both are, his brows drawn together in confusion. “God, can someone please just open the door?” the panting blonde fusses outside the door. “It started snowin’ again! What, you want me to freeze to death?”

Kiri looks at you and Mina, waiting for a yes. You both nod and he twists the doorknob, opening the door for his friend. You and Mina race to come to the door, peering out into the cold night air. It has begun to snow again. Fat snowflakes fall from the cloudy sky above, making the snow already on the ground much thicker.

Bakugou stands at the door shivering and shaking in his thick coat and beanie pulled low over his head. His nose and cheeks are adorably red and his hands are shoved into his pockets. He would’ve been a lot cuter if it wasn’t for the scowl on his handsome face.

“Can I come in?” he pants. “I’m freezin’ my balls off out here.”

“Come in,” you say, immediately kicking into high gear to make him comfortable. “I’ll get more firewood.”

Kiri helps you gather the firewood you keep wrapped up by the fireplace and places it on the burning, charred wood to burn down and ignite more flames.

Bakugou shrugs off his coat and rips off his hat, revealing a platinum blonde undercut. The mature hairstyle looks extremely sexier on him, meshing illegally well with the tattoos roping up and down his right arm and the piercings adoring his ears, cartridges, and eyebrow. And he has snakebites.

You love snakebites. You have to keep your thighs pressed tight together to avoid creaming on the floor.

Bakugou is a bit shorter than Kiri who looks like a giant compared to him. However, he is still much taller than you and has equal amounts of lean muscle. Your eyes drink in his laid-back outfit of a black tee and sweats, lingering on his big feet, big hands, squeezable thighs, and crotch. You quickly look back up into his vermillion eyes to avoid looking like a goddamn pervert.

“Bakugou?” Mina asks, squinting confusedly at him. “What are you doing here? Kiri said you were asleep!”

“I was,” the no. 2 pro grumbles. “I was just gettin’ to bed too after that fuck-ass mission we had downtown with that big-ass snowman.”

He glares at Kiri who shrugs, looking like he is getting a kick out of his friend’s annoyance. “I thought it was fun!” he giggles. You can’t help but secretly smile at their relationship, having always adored it.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, turning back to you and Mina. “But while I was in bed, I started gettin’ the feelin’ that maybe I should be here instead,” he continues.

A small gasp leaves your lips, causing all three to stare curiously at you. You swallow, doing your best to remain calm. “Well, why are you here?” you ask.

Bakugou’s vermillion eyes flare and a small smirk appears on his face. ”Why else?” he replies. “Because you two are mine.”

You and Mina stare at him wide-eyed, shocked by his boldness and that off-the-wall answer. “What?!” you both exclaim.

Kiri scoffs to himself, a big, challenging grin on his face. “Yours?” he chuckles, idling up to Bakugou. “That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think, babe?” His arm slyly wraps around Bakugou’s waist, pulling him into his side.

“Babe?!” you and Mina shriek. Bakugou winces, rubbing at his ear while he glares at Kiri. The redhead sheepishly smiles, accidentally letting a very big cat out of the bag. “Whoops.”

You and Mina stare at each other and then at the two pros standing before you. You always assumed they were just very close friends. Clearly, Mina did too. If they are together, they did an extremely good job keeping it a secret from their inner circles and the public.

“Yes, we’re dating,” Bakugou says, interlacing his fingers with Kiri’s. “We have been since senior year of UA. And if you go flappin’ your gums about it, I’ll kill you both.”

Mina smacks her lips together, placing her hands on her hips. “So violent,” she tuts. “But you have our word. Now what’s this about us being yours?” You nod, still confused yet still hopeful that maybe your wish was possibly answered. “If you two are already together, then why do you want us?”

Bakugou is more than happy to elaborate on this crazy ordeal. “Because we belong together,” he simply replies, a smile on his handsome face. It nearly floors you. “I just got this weird feeling…like I was bein’ called here.” A blush coats his cheeks at his confession, his eyes flickering down to his boots.

You feel as if you’ve been dipped in boiling lava. Your body feels hot from the inside out at his words. It is the same thing Kiri said earlier. They were both “called” here by something. Could it really be…?

Bakugou shares an adoring look with Kiri that can only be something shared between lovers. “We’ve been talkin’ ‘bout expanding our relationship anyway. What better way to do that than with you two brats?” He turns to you and deviously smirks.

Mina gapes at him, dramatically placing a hand on her heart. “Brats?” she gasps. “That’s so mean, ‘Suki!”

The blonde tsks to himself, his eyes ablaze with something hot and intense as he gazes at the pink-haired pro. “I can already tell you’ll be a handful.” Kiri nods in agreement, pinning Mina to the ground with an equally smoldering look that you can see clearly melts her.

“Wait, wait,” you interrupt, earning their attention. “You said you felt like you were called here too?”

Bakugou nods, confused at your question. You take a moment to contemplate and process this information, your heart hammering in your chest. “Then that means…..”

The North Star. Your desperate, tipsy wish. “It worked!” you shout, beaming to yourself. “My wish came true!”

“What wish?” Mina asks, confused. “What are you talking about?”

You are fully aware that your next words sound totally insane and stupid, but you can at least let your girlfriend in on where your head was at. “I made a wish on the North Star earlier for a Daddy,” you shyly explain. “And it looks like it worked, but I can’t understand why we were sent two.”

Kiri chuckles and slowly saunters up to you, a smoldering look in his eyes. “Why look a gift horse in the mouth, cutie?” he asks, taking your hand in his. It makes your entire body tingle. “I mean, I don’t mind sharing my girls if Bakugou is cool with it too.”

Bakugou glares at the redhead. “Your girls?” he parrots and then blinks, tracing back to you. “Wait, so we’re both over here for the same reason?”

He and Kiri look at each other and then at you and Mina as if you should have all of the answers. You’re just as confused as them. While you’re eternally grateful for receiving not one but two Daddy Doms to take good care of you, you can’t understand why—

“That may be my fault,” Mina sheepishly admits. You three turn to her and her blushing cheeks. “I made the same wish as you, so we were probably sent two Daddies by accident.” She looks between Bakugou and Kiri sheepishly.

You facepalm yourself. Of course, that’s how it happened! “Oh, no,” you groan. You turn to the two pros standing in your living room, baffled by what is happening. “Boys, I’m so, so sorry! This is all a big misunderstanding!”

Kiri raises an eyebrow curiously at you, his lips curled into a lopsided smile. “What’s there to misunderstand? Seems to me you two need someone to take care of you.”

He moves in front of you and reaches for Mina’s hand to drag her closer. “Love you.”

He takes his two hands and places them on your and Mina’s faces, stroking your cheeks. The air is stolen from your lungs as his thumb runs down your bottom lip, gently playing with it. His smile grows wider and less friendly than it was when he first came here. “Make you his good little baby girls, right?”

You can’t speak and neither can Mina apparently, a tiny gasp leaving her lips. Suddenly, you feel something hard and warm standing behind you. You turn, finding Bakugou looming above you. His expression would intimidate anyone, and it does to you, but it also thrills you. “Right?” he repeats, asking for Kiri.

Finally, you find your voice and roughly swallow your nerves. “Y-Yes,” you softly stammer. The corner of Bakugou’s mouth quirks up an inch, loving that he has got you down hard and down bad. Unbeknownst to you, he and Kiri are in the exact same boat for you and your adorable little girlfriend.

Mina twirls one end of her pink locks around her finger, a nervous habit of hers. “Soooo you both want that with us?” she asks, ticking her eyes between the pros. “You’re okay with sharing?”

Kiri looks at Bakugou who shrugs. “As long as you’re okay with it too,” the redhead replies, giving you both a grin. “We’ll make sure you won’t regret it.”

Mina unspools her hair from her finger and breaks out into a big, beaming smile that would make anyone fold. With a giddy laugh, she flings herself into Kiri’s arms and allows him to sweep her off of her feet. “Then we don’t have to choose, Y/N!” she giddily says to you, her eyes sparkling with joy. “If they’re willing to share, we can have both!”

‘Both?’ you think to yourself. Your brain seems to short-circuit. You can’t quite process this. It’s just too good to be true! Two hot pros all to yourself for however long you wish?

You stare into Bakugou’s face, searching for something in it to tell you that this is a lie or some kind of cruel game. A glimmer in his eye. A twitch of his mouth. Anything to make you feel less hopeful. But there is nothing…nothing but that same intense, hot look that he has been giving you since he walked into your home.

Finally, you fall deep and take his hands in both of yours. “So you promise that you’ll take care of us?” you ask.

“And spend the night and cuddle with us?” Mina giggles as Kiri lowers her down onto her feet. “And give us all the kisses in the world?”

“And you promise that you’ll always be here for us?” you add, staring up at Bakugou through your lashes. “No matter what?”

Mina runs a gentle yet seductive hand down Kiri’s big pecs, earning a soft hum in response. “You promise to be good Daddies to us, right?” she coos, her voice soft and so innocent that one would think that she isn’t the freaky slut that you know her as.

Bakugou and Kiri share a secretive smile with each other before they turn their attention back to you and Mina. Their girls. Their sweet little bimbos. Bakugou tsks, running his thumbs over your knuckles. “That’s a stupid ass question,” he grumbles. “Of course, I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Kiri pulls Mina close by her waist, coaxing her into wrapping her arms around his slim waist. “You have us, darlings. Totally and completely.”

You have never needed more of a confirmation to get these men all over you. The need you have is palpable, creating an electric current of sexual tension in the air. Your mouth splits into a beaming smile that lights up the room and you toss your arms around Bakugou’s neck. “Then kiss me!” you giggle.

Bakugou doesn’t need to be told twice. He places a hand on the back of your neck and leans in to press his pillowy-soft lips against yours. You moan into the soft yet intense kiss, standing up on your tiptoes to reach him. He is so damn big that you can barely fit all of your arms around him.

Just like Kiri, Bakugou’s kiss is electric and dreamy. He kisses you until you are drunk off of his taste and need more as he pulls away, his eyes dazed and hooded. From beside you, Kiri pulls away from a needy Mina who tries to hang onto the kiss for longer. You understand her pain. Your body is throbbing with need for more touching. More kissing. More everything.

“So now what?” Kiri asks, slightly out of breath from the kiss. “Where exactly do we go from here?”

Bakugou tuts to himself, running a sneaky hand down your back to your ass. “Well, I don’t know about you, shittyhair, but I’d like to go anywhere that gets these two little sluts naked.” He gives your ass a squeeze, making you whimper with need.

“Bakugou!” Mina scoffs. “That’s so lewd! At least be romantic like Kiri here!” The blonde just clucks his tongue against his teeth, rolling his eyes at the pink pro’s theatrics. “Please.”

But you are 100% on the same type of nasty, dirty, sloppy time that he is on. Now that you know how they feel about you and how you all feel about each other, there is nothing holding you back from getting your hands and lips on them.

So you press yourself up against Bakugou’s hard chest, giving him a feel of your hard nipples pushing against the fabric of your top. “I really like that idea,” you purr.

A sly smirk stretches across Bakugou’s face, sealing the deal for you and Mina tonight. “Then let’s finally get this shit off of you,” he growls.

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #bimbo reader #mina x black!reader #bakugou x black!reader #kirishima x black!reader #black writers #bnha smut #poly smut #poly love #kiribakumina #poly kiribaku

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multifandomfix · 5 months ago

Text

Smoke Signals — Amelia Shepherd

Summary: You and Amelia have been secretly seeing each other for a while but her coworkers figure things out when you stop by for a visit.

Word Count: 1,008

Warnings: None

The hospital buzzed with its usual chaotic energy with doctors rushing from one room to the next, nurses shouting orders, and the beeping of monitors echoing through the halls. It was the kind of organized madness you’d grown used to seeing whenever Amelia had one of her late night shifts. You’d shown up willingly, usually after your own shift ended, eager to steal moments with her even if they were brief, since the two of you were still keeping things under wraps.

But today wasn’t about stolen moments. Today, you were here for a surprise.

You’d just finished a grueling twenty four hour shift at the firehouse, complete with battling a two alarm blaze and rescuing an elderly woman’s cat from the charred remains of her kitchen. The scent of smoke still lingered faintly in your jacket despite your best efforts to scrub it out or cover it with perfume. It didn’t bother you, though, and Amelia never seemed to mind, so you hadn’t worried over it too much.

“Matches your personality,” she’d said once, lips quirking up into that sly smile that always made your knees go weak.

You checked the bouquet of flowers in your hands one more time, some of the petals had slightly wilted at the edges, but they were otherwise intact. The firehouse hadn’t exactly been stocked with fresh roses, so you’d improvised with what you had.

Daisies, carnations, and something that vaguely resembled baby’s breath were all tied together in a bow with a piece of twine you’d swiped from the supply closet. Rustic, perhaps, but it was the thought that counted. It was your six month anniversary after all and had you both not had to work, you would have done something far more special.

“Not bad,” you muttered under your breath before stepping into Grey Sloan Memorial.

It didn’t take long before you were noticed.

“Who is that?” Jo Wilson’s voice echoed down the hall, far too loud to be subtle. You paid the remark no mind. You were here on a mission after all.

“Firefighter,” Levi Schmitt answered, peeking over Jo’s shoulder. “Look at the jacket. Station 19.”

“Wait. That Station 19?” Jo’s eyes narrowed as she studied you.

You felt the weight of their stares but kept moving, making a beeline for the elevator. You had no idea Amelia’s coworkers had spent weeks, months even, speculating about the mysterious someone who’d apparently been putting a spring in her step.

Of course, Amelia had told you about the teasing, the way Maggie had started sniffing around (literally) and asking why Amelia suddenly smelled like smoke and leather jackets. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Amelia had a knack for keeping secrets when she wanted to and you never pushed her to out your relationship before she was ready.

The elevator dinged, and when the doors slid open, you spotted her immediately. Amelia stood at the nurse’s station, her dark hair slightly messy, pen tapping against her lip as she reviewed a chart. She looked up at the sound of the elevator, and when her eyes landed on you, her entire demeanor shifted.

Her lips parted slightly in surprise, and then she grinned, a wide, open grin that made her look younger, lighter, and completely undone in the best way possible.

You barely had time to step out before she crossed the distance, hands reaching for you, the flowers nearly getting smashed as she hugged you.

“What are you doing here,” she asked, her voice lower now, meant just for you.

“Thought I’d surprise you,” you said, holding up the flowers. “These aren’t nearly as pretty as you, though.”

It was cheesy. You knew it. But Amelia melted anyway, leaning into you without a second thought.

That’s when the gasps started.

Jo and Levi had abandoned whatever menial tasks had kept them going in favor of following the mysterious firefighting visitor, it seemed. They rounded the corner and their jaws dropped in unison. Maggie appeared next, clearly picked up by the other two busybodies, her eyes wide as saucers, and before you knew it, a crowd had gathered.

“No way,” Jo said, practically vibrating with excitement. “Amelia Shepherd is dating a firefighter!”

“And not just any firefighter,” Maggie cut in. “The firefighter. The one who saved that entire apartment complex last month!”

You felt heat crawl up your neck. You hadn’t realized Amelia had shared that story.

But Amelia didn’t flinch. Instead, she turned to face her coworkers, still tucked close against your side, her arm wrapped possessively around your waist. There would be no talking her way out of this one if she’d wanted to. But it was time, past time even, that everyone knew who you were to her.

“Yes,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “This is my girlfriend. And if you keep gawking like that, I’ll ban you all from asking her any firefighter related questions.”

It didn’t work. The questions started immediately.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Where did you two meet?”

“Wait—does this mean Amelia’s been sneaking out to meet you during lunch breaks?”

“Is it true you single handedly carried three people out of that fire?”

You raised your hands in surrender, laughing. “One question at a time, people.”

Amelia tugged you closer, rolling her eyes at the barrage of inquiries. “You’re all impossible,” she said, though there was no real heat behind her words. If anything, she looked amused, and maybe even a little proud.

You leaned down, your lips brushing her temple. “I don’t mind,” you whispered. “I like seeing you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Happy.”

Her eyes softened, and just like that, the world around you faded. It didn’t matter that you were still the center of attention or that Maggie was already snapping pictures to share with Meredith later. All that mattered was the way Amelia looked at you, like you were something worth holding on to.

And as far as you were concerned, you weren’t letting her go anytime soon.

For anon

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @trexsuit, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure, @og-kxsh-420

Amelia Shepherd: @thekirbishow, @astrogrande

#amelia shepherd #amelia shepherd one shot #amelia shepherd x reader #grey’s anatomy #grey’s anatomy one shot #request #send requests #requests open

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