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evilgwrl · 2 months ago

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Arranged marriage! With ghost where she’s from a small island and ghost comes to collect taxes well the island is just a few hundred short they can make it up next year? Right?! Nah ghosts is like mmmmm I’ll take what yall call a princess mean while she’s struggling as much as the other fokes on the island so when Simon takes her way and finds out she’s never lived the simple life he makes it his mission to show her the good that can out of this arrangement smutty if you would 😭 I’m obsessed with the arranged marriage trope with ghost he’s a cutie patootie

Arranged Marriage w/ Simon Riley

Holy moly I love this…

Thank you for this idea @creepytoes88 I hope you don’t mind that I made him a king, I just wanted it to flow with giving her a better life and the tax collection <3

King!Simon Riley x Reader

Archipelago

CW: Being sold by your family to pay off debt, sharing a bath, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm bc simon knows what to do ;)

Word Count: 2,623

Twisted fingers hooked under the bark, knees scraped with stagnant flora, coiling limbs of bushy thorns blistering around the tropical plains. There was a subtle burn that sunk through your thighs, muscles gnawing at your bones before you finally settled on a thick branch, wind hissing in your ear, almost warning you. You paid no attention.

Pupil-blown eyes stared off to the view in front of you, lapping in the vicious strain of turquoise, untouched coral glistening an array of colours under the harsh sun. There was a trickle of sweat that ran down the back of your neck, your hair thrown into a rough bun as you shielded yourself with raggedy, overworked fingers.

You watched the skerries surrounding your island, a flurry of birds swooping low before nestling down on the warmth of the rocky floor. It was a peaceful sight. Nothing but the low crash of waves to be sound, the occasional calling of a fellow Islander working its way through the palms and out of the sand, before landing in your ear.

You felt the prickle of pain shoot through your feet as you landed on the ground, the grass covered in speckles of yellow dust sticking in between your toes as you hurried down to the village. Any bit of tranquillity soon disappeared as your eyes locked into the sight of the townspeople, the Island far too small to accommodate such needing families.

“Y/N! Where have you been? The King shall be here soon and you’re off running with the fairies.”

Your Mother’s tone was harsh and reprimanding, her eyes tight with wrinkles as she scowled, chucking a makeshift broom at you. You weren’t exactly sure what the difference of you sweeping would make, the life you live here, swept or not, is strikingly different to the one of a King. No matter how beautiful your Island is, your feet are permanently stained with grains of sand, skin is littered with dull scars and fresh scratches.

You understood her worry, offering her a gentle, apologetic smile as you followed her bustle of orders. Your Father was the village Chief, a wise man who led the people to survive without the worry of advanced civilisation.

You were seen as a headcase to the others. A woman whose head wasn’t fixed well enough to her shoulders. A dreamer. Your mind was amplified by the need to do more, to see more. Untouched beauty too turns mundane when you’re not allowed to experience it.

As night fell, the waves seemed to settle, burying themselves in the crops of sand that spanned around you, 10-legged creatures hiding away in the cocoon of a cracked shell. Palms slept with the safety of coconuts that would blossom into the town’s delicacy, the meat tender on the tongues of children, the water fuel for the fishermen. There was a large bonfire lit, the earthly crackle occasionally popping as a spark flew out, hissing against the cool air before dispersing into a drag of smoke.

Girls chattered around you, smoothing down their appearances as they used crushed berries on their lips and the apples of their cheeks. You were never fussed about the King, hardly paying attention to him on his previous arrivals if he even bothered to show up. You took note of his lack of empathy, normally sending one of his men in his place, unbothered by the Island that’s supposed to fall under his command.

You heard the ship pull up, wood striking against the ground as it split between the beach, a carved woman tangled to the figurehead, flowing hair etched between wood and a man’s knife as she breached the island. They were a loud bunch, deep voices echoing across the Isle as your father walked down to greet them formally.

The air grew silent, thick smog suffocating the air as your father appeared, his figure shaking as he hobbled towards you. Toughened hands gripped your cheeks, stroking the sun-kissed skin to comfort you.

“Father, what’s wrong?”

“We- We’re short on our taxes,” he gulped, a hand planted in your matted hair as you scrunched your brows together.

“But how? We’re sensible, we work harder- How?”

“Things happen beyond our understanding sometimes, sweetheart, just know me and your mother love you very much.”

“I know? Why are you-” you stalled “- Why are you telling me this? What’s going on?”

“The King needs a wife,” he hiccupped as realisation set in, spine snapping into a cold flush as you attempted to wriggle free from your father’s grip.

“No-“

“I have to, Y/N, I don’t have a choice!”

“A choice? There’s always a choice! How could you do this to me?” The strain of a sob wracked through your chest, your heart beating eerily slow against your rib cage as you wailed out for your mother who only walked away, her face concealed by strands of hair. Hands coiled around your biceps, dragging you towards the ship as you carried on, cementing your heels into the dirtied sand to anchor yourself.

“Stop resisting,” A harsh voice spoke into your ear, nails breaking the surface of your tender skin as you nipped at the air, wriggling. Your limbs felt mangled as you were thrown over someone’s shoulder, your stomach caving in with a penetrative force as you choked on the air, saline tears streaming down your face.

Aching skin collided with the sand as you were thrown onto the floor, leather boots staring back at you as your head cocked up. His figure was tall, dressed in all black with a row of medals displayed on his breast pocket. His stare was dark, irises the colour of burnt whiskey, pale lashes flickering down at you before looking back up. The rest of his face was covered by a woven garment, handcrafted to perfection, painted with a white skull.

“Did you find it necessary to throw her at my feet like she’s some dog?”

“Your Majesty she was res-“

“It is a yes or no question.”

His voice was thick with malt, a hidden arrogance underlying his words as his eyes spoke for him. A veiny hand was offered to you, light scars tracing his knuckles before he lifted you, admiring you for a brief second.

“She’ll do. I’ll be back in 6 months,” The King spoke roughly.

The sea breeze was tranquil given the circumstances, the ocean rocking your tears to a halt as you huddled yourself away in the captain’s quarters. Your body was trailed with layers of silk, dirtied clothes moulded to your skin as you sniffled. There was a vast smell of salt, almost suffocating you as it burnt through your nose and hair. You scrunched your skin, rubbing at your nostrils before nestling yourself into a pillow.

You awoke to the sound of commotion. You took in the handful of women surrounding you, their hair tied back in a tight bun, protected by a frilly cap. They wore black and white dresses, aprons attached to their fronts and smiles on their faces.

“Good evening, your majesty. Shall we run you a bath?”

You sat up, hands creasing against the sheets below you as your eyes adjusted to the new scenery. You weren’t on the ship anymore.

“Where am I?” You choked out, huffing your chest out to look more intimidating. In reality, you look cowered, skin droopy with betrayal, burst blood vessels evident under your eyes.

“In your private quarters, the King requested we come to you, settle you in.”

You scowled, “I just want to be alone.” They left in a hurry, feet skidding against the floor in a squeak as they shut the large oak doors behind them.

The room was one for Royalty. The large bed was dressed in golden sheets, red swirls detailing the plush headpieces, solid gold baubles along the edges as tall stakes met the ceiling, lace hanging from them for privacy. Your feet hit the polished marble floors; calloused skin not used to such luxury that you almost yelped in unfamiliarity. Glass trickled from the overhead chandelier, an arrangement of crystals advocating flickers of light across the room, an occasional rainbow seeping through like a diamond in the rough.

Oil paintings hung from the walls, detailed gold wrapping around them as the figurines stared at you dauntingly. A plethora of books rested on shelves, a comforting sofa tucked away in the corner, highlights of red bursting through the stuffed pillows, plucked by the finest of feathers.

The room felt suffocating, the air a terminal sickness that wove into your lungs as you realised the severity of the situation. Your father – your parents, had sold you away to the King to pay for lost taxes. You were a miserable sight as you huddled over onto the floor, chest collapsing with cries as you attempted to grip the material beneath your knees, desperate for the sensation of sand.

Simon watched you intently from the door as he cracked it open, a deafening cough sounding from him as you looked up at him, bewildered.

“I understand the circumstances aren’t the best, but your people owed me, and they chose you as collateral.”

“I want to go home,” you hiccupped, facing away from him in humiliation. His leather shoes hit the floor, striding up to you in only a few steps.

“This is your home now, and in a few weeks, we shall be wedded. Whether or not you choose to invite your family is up to you, but I shall not tolerate disrespect. If you didn’t want the maids to tend to you, that’s fine, but I will.”

You watched his stalking figure disappear into another room attached to your quarters, the heavy pour of water indicating that he was running you a bath. You rose to your feet anxiously, popping your head around the corner as you took in the room. A large tub was carved with porcelain, wide in size with golden feet, bubbles guzzling under the powerful stream as the scent of lavender filled the air.

“Undress,” He spoke as you cocked a brow.

“In front of you?” You scoffed.

“You didn’t want the maids, now you have me. Undress.”

Your clothes itched as they were ridden from your skin, bare body flushed under the light as you attempted to conceal yourself from his bruising vision. The water scolded you as you sunk in, muscles relaxing instantly under the soothing oil. It was an irregular feeling.

You heard him shuffle behind you as you turned, eyes gawking wide as you took in his naked figure, cock resting low against his thigh. A squeak slipped through your lips as you turned around in a fluster.

His mask was off, his face a welcoming surprise. His brows were thick, bulging above slit frames, his nose slightly crooked with a masculine appeal to him.

“What are you doing?” you gasped, chest tight, eyes bulging.

“Bathing,” he practically snarled, “move over.”

Your belly felt hot, the unknowing feeling of arousal seeping through your pores as you adjusted in the water, the liquid rising as he stepped in before you were pulled back against him, bottom flushed against his thighs. You were tense.

“Relax, it’s just a bath. We will not do anything until you’re ready but after marriage, I will need heirs.”

“Heirs? I don’t even know your name!”

A hand coiled around your waist, tugging at the tender skin for a moment before it rested, settling at your upper thigh.

“It’s Simon, Y/N.”

“How do you- “

“What kind of King would I be if I didn’t even know the name of the woman I’m marrying?”

The air was hazy with steam, almost suffocating you as you felt yourself relax against his hard chest, delicate twirls of hair tickling against your spine. As your body settled, Simon washed you, entwined rag lubed with delicate soap as he massaged it into the crevices of your skin, any dirt seeping into the water. His fingers were long as they massaged against your scalp, digging any knots out with a gentle force before rinsing it.

You found yourself refreshed as you settled into the sheets once more, body fresh with a floral scent, skin drenched in almond oil, the glistening reflecting against the flame of the fireplace. The bed sunk in as Simon crawled in next to you, menacing frame wracking against yours. It was silent, the usual sound of waves and birds no longer hushing you to sleep.

Your fingers twitched as you played with the hem of your nightgown, letting out a low, exhausted breath.

“I shall not hurt you for as long as you are mine, Y/N. I hope you grow to trust me and understand that I am a man of my word. If you allow me, I would like to show you who I am and the life you can have here.”

You swallowed. There was an itch inside you that couldn’t be scratched, his words only adding fuel to an uncontrollable flame as you turned to face him, cocked up on one arm. Your gown hung low, strap dangerously low on your shoulder as he adjusted his vision back to your face, lips parted with a flushed manner.

“I’ve never experienced anything before.” Your voice was low, an evident streak of self-consciousness staining it as you averted your gaze.

“Let me help you.”

Rugged fingers lifted your gown up, silk resting against your stomach in a hunched manner as Simon gripped at your thighs, spreading them lewdly. He huffed out a hum of appreciation as you jolted in embarrassment. You were so open, so exposed to fresh eyes.

“No one’s ever touched you here?” He asked. You shook your head, gazing down at him with an unspoken innocence. You felt his lips curl against your thigh as he placed a gentle kiss to it, letting it rest against the warm skin before two fingers pulled apart your lips, glistening folds presented before him.

You felt pleasure tickle up your spine as the King placed a small kiss against your clit, a mewl escaping you as you instinctively attempted to press your thighs together. He let out a tsk as he looked up at you, amused by your reaction.

“Relax for me,” he said, arms flushed around your thighs before his tongue soaked up the middle, your juices drenching his lips as you squealed, your fingers wrapping into his dusty hair as he ravaged the taste of you.

The noises you made were wanton, slopping breaths soaking the air as he worked against you, slurping you into his mouth with an aggravated need for you. His teeth grazed against your sensitive clit, wrapping his lips around it before sucking, an obscene scream sounding from you as he continued the assault.

“Taste so fucking good,” he quipped, holding your belly down in place as your hips lifted, clit overstimulated by the amount of pleasure it only just began receiving.

“Sim-Simon, I feel strange- somethings happening,” you croaked, pulling at his hair in an attempt to stop him.

“Let it happen,” he growled, his tongue thrusting against your entrance as a finger pressed against your nub, rubbing it in circular motions as you began to hold your breath.

The pressure in your belly was turmoil like an unknown danger was approaching. Simon didn’t stop, the sound of your breath hicking stirring something primal inside of him as he held you down before the pressure inside you popped, a broken whine piercing the air as you came, hips rocking desperately against the King’s face as he growled against your heat.

He pulled away, spit slick against his chin, cocky smile on his face as you panted, chest rising and falling in a synchronised fashion. Your legs closed instinctively, wetness seeping between your bottom as you shivered, satisfied clit throbbing.

“I’m not done yet, sweetheart.”

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ssahotchnerr · 2 years ago

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This scene but Hotch is dating reader 🥺 it's pretty new, but everyone can already see the change in him, and everyone just wants to know the amazing woman that has given them some weekends off 🤭

subtleties

hehe i had to write a lil thing for this, kinda a different take but still very similar! cw; none! just how the team notices aaron is in love <33

there had been a shift.

one day, it was just there. the bullpen seemed a bit brighter, the atmosphere was lacking it's usual apprehensiveness, even the provided coffee seemed more flavorful- not as bland and definitely not as tart.

and no one could figure out why.

dave was the first. and since, well, dave was dave, it didn't take long for him to question the matter at hand. all he had to do was forwardly ask, and the expression he received in return told him everything he needed to know. he also gained the immunity otherwise known as bragging rights- in case anyone asked, he knew all along.

the next telltale, as pointed out by penelope and caused all heads to turn- a newfound, frequent smile. the usual, timid frown was still persistent, it hadn't become a stranger and probably never would, but the ability to pull a smile wasn't as challenging. it made it's presence multiple times a day, comparable to the past where a smile typically appeared a few times within a month.

in accompaniment, a softened gaze. the harsh lines drawn between his eyebrows had seemingly faded. he looked younger. happier.

one could only imagine how surprised the team was receiving the instructions they could leave early if they so desired one friday night, including the "action reports can wait until monday" a double-take was necessary; did they hear correctly? monday? a whole three days away? accordingly, it became the new normal. as long as the group of them weren't called away at the hands of serial killers, weekends lived up to their name and purpose.

dutifully, even more questions arose. rumors were traded. and everyone had a feeling- only one thing could be the origin.

with a schedule dictated by serial killers, abrupt departures were never a surprise, but heavily inconvenient when preoccupied. no matter the hour, one had to drop everything and go.

once all were settled and en route, it consumed the air. an aroma that was sweet and playful- a touch of berries, jasmine, sandalwood. the close quarters of the jet was never shy in terms of enhancing sights, sounds and smells, so it didn't take long for it to be noticeable.

"what is that?" derek said suddenly with a scrunch of his nose.

spencer didn't skip a beat, not even bothering to look up from the novel in his grasp. "what is what?"

"someone doesn't smell like themselves."

"you smell your colleagues?" emily snorted out a laugh.

"no." derek balled up a scrap of paper within reach, chucking it at her. "call me a profiler, but haven't you gotten used to, i don't know... we all have our signature scents, you know? whatever that is, it's new. and strong."

dave presented a knowing smirk of a smile, side eyeing the culprit, who was also doing his hardest to refrain from smiling. but again, in the constricted space of the jet, it was visible to everyone. in addition, it promptly confirmed the rumor that had been circling the past few weeks.

"hotch?" derek pushed, raising his eyebrows in question but with a knowing expression on his face.

"maybe you should save your keen observation skills for when we land, morgan." aaron shrugged as he studied the file in his lap, the smallest of grins pulling at the corner of his mouth. "it could do you some good."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds drabble

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filthybat · 2 years ago

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Happy holidays! (Part 1.)

One piece imagine of what every straw hat would gift you on Christmas

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Nami

CW: fluff, platonic fluff, cute shenanigans, slight cursing, kinda a crack fic, in this contexts yall are bffs, so some people might be a little out of character.

Hey everyone, it’s Bat! This is my first post so I hope you enjoy it :3 (yes I know it’s not Christmas but hey, early Christmas present!) more parts soon to come!

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

🍖 Luffy 🍖

- Luffy couldn’t sit still as he- very clumsily- handed you his present.

- It’s a cardboard box with one red bow slapped on top, and when confronted with the wrap job, he simply brushed it off with “who has time to open wrapping paper? C’mon open it already!!”

- Inside the box, you find…. A sling shot! and a pouch of pellets.

- “So? So? So? Whatcha think?! You like it? You love it? You love it!”

- As you were about to respond, stretchy arms snatched the box out of your hands

-“Here Lemme teach you! These are popping pellets so they explode when you hit them”

- Your brave captain demonstrates by chucking a pellet at the ground, which resulted in a loud pop, but no explosions as he advertised.

- The ship grew silent.

- As you asked to try a turn, he insisted on letting him find one that explodes.

- It’s resulted in the whole crew including yourself watching Luffy as he went through the whole pouch, chucking and throwing to no avail, no explosion.

- The pouch is empty, no explosion, and a very fussy captain sitting cross armed across from you, looking everywhere but you.

- Sanji left to get a broom and dust pan for what remains of your gift.

🗡️ Zoro 🗡️

- Not meeting your eyes, he casually hands you messily wrapped present with a neat green bow on top, but watches intensely as you unwrap it.

- “Sorry, i didn’t really have time…”

- Inside the box, you find… A bottle of premium sake!

- The tips of his ears are red, he dosent like this much attention on him.

- “For, you know, when you wanna… d-drink?” He sounded unsure of himself as he spoke.

- The crew haven’t seen him ever be this awkward.

- You thank him, and he just nods to get this awkward situation over with.

- Sanji huffed, looking smugly over at The swordsmen, “Really moss-head? To drink? How unoriginal and impersonal”

- “Huh? Wanna repeat that again, shitty cock?”

- Just Like that, they are at each others neck, kicking up dust as they fought.

- Don’t let the impersonal present fool you, it’s all he could manage at such short notice.

- Zoro originally planned on gifting a brand new sword for you, since you’ve shown interest in his training. He figured he could give you lessons, spend his days with you training, bonding over shared passion of blades. It’s one of the few ways the silent swordsmen can communicate how much he appreciates you being his ffeind without having to get all mushy and yuckie by using his words.

-But… he got lost on the way to the smith.

🍊 Nami 🍊

- A present was delicately placed on your lap, which is a contrast to how big the box actually is.

-Beautifully wrapped with orange glittery wrapping paper, and accented with green ribbons and bows. Nami took extra care in making sure every present was beautiful.

- You felt bad tearing into this, it was just too pretty!

- So you painstakingly unwrapped it carefully, as to not rip up the paper, which Nami appreciated. At least someone on the ship cares about effort.

- Inside the present, you find… A coat! Beautiful and fluffy, in your favorite color.

- You gasp and look at Nami, who simply smiles at your shocked expression

-“I saw you eyeing it at the shops in the last island we stopped at, thought since the holidays are coming up, I could get it before hand. Go ahead, try it on!” She urged, beckoning you to stand and don on the coat.

-… It fits! Perfectly even! How she got your measurements you’ll never know. And as you swayed and turned to check yourself out, she adds.

- “And since it’s the giving season, I’ll knock 100 Berri off your dept”

- To your shocked expression, she only winked

#one peice #one piece #luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy headcanons #roronoa zoro #zoro headcanons #nami one piece #nami op #nami headcanons #one piece headcanons #crack fic

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ivydean · 4 years ago

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thee biblical god can be bisexual but dean winchester can’t........ okay

#bit insane but okay #i hate the cw #spn #supernatural #castiel #dean winchester #deancas #destiel #cas #casdean #dean #dean is bi #bi dean winchester #chuck berry #chuck #liv.txt

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jaskierswolf · 3 years ago

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Sugar and Spice

Thanks to @journeythroughunknownlands for working with me on this christmassy collab! It's been a blast and an honour! Penis cookies came up in the discord and thus this idea was born. Enjoy!

Pairing: Geraskier

CW: hurt/comfort, bad childhood memories, but mostly just Christmas fun

On AO3 - Art

The holiday season was upon them and the apartment was filled with tinsel and fairy lights, and every other garish decoration that Jaskier could find. He’d had Christmas music playing since November, much to Geralt’s dismay, but if there was one thing that Jaskier loved it was Christmas. This year was even more important too because it was his first holiday season with Geralt in their own place. After years of dating, they had finally taken the leap, and Jaskier couldn’t wait to start making Christmas traditions of their own. Maybe it was coming from a broken home or maybe it was all the cheesy Christmas romances he’d absorbed over the years, but he knew it had to be perfect.

So maybe he’d gone a little overboard with the decorations, but he was excited.

Geralt… not so much.

It didn’t help that Geralt was scheduled to work everyday except Christmas Day itself, and there was very little time for him to get into the Christmas spirit, but Jaskier was doing his best. He’d left a few ornaments for Geralt to hang on the tree, and he always made sure to play Geralt’s favourite Christmas song in the evenings, the real version too, even if Jaskier still believed that his cover was far superior. Chuck Berry was brilliant, but Jaskier was better, and deep down he knew that Geralt really did like his singing, but he was old fashioned at heart. To Geralt there was nothing better than the old favourites.

All in all Jaskier’s grand Christmas extravaganza was coming together. The house smelled like apple and cinnamon, thanks to the infusers, and really it was all starting to look like Santa’s Grotto. There was only one thing left:

Cookies!

When he was a kid, Jaskier had always made cookies with his babysitters around christmas. It was one of the few joys he’d had at Christmas once he’d gotten old enough to realise that opening a pile of presents on his own didn’t mean fuck all. They were lovely and all, but in his adult years, Jaskier was a firm believer that homemade gifts and time spent with loved ones was far superior to cold yet expensive gifts. The cookie cutters had been a stocking present from Santa one year, and every year after that he’d begged his parents to bake with him, but every year the task fell to his babysitters, and then… well… just to him.

But now he had Geralt!

It was a new era of Christmas, and baking. Geralt was due home any minute, and Jaskier was desperate to get at least one batch of cookies in the oven before his boyfriend came through the door. It would just be so fucking domestic to come home to the scent of warm cookies, and then Geralt could help him decorate whilst they got a second batch in the oven. It was going to be perfect.

Or at least… it would be if he could find the fucking cookie cutters. Between not entirely unpacking and all the lights and tinsel, he couldn’t find them anywhere, and Jaskier really didn’t trust his artistic ability enough to draw christmas trees, stars and people.

The only thing he’d ever been good at drawing was cocks.

Much to the chagrin of his university roommate, Valdo had been stuck with penises on his face for days when drunk Jaskier had accidentally picked up a permanent marker instead of a biro.

Jaskier pouted down at the sheet of cookie dough all ready for cutting and baking. Then, before he could change his mind, grabbed a knife from the drawer. Penis cookies would have to do. It wasn’t exactly christmassy, but hey, maybe if Jaskier tied a bow around his own cock, he could persuade Geralt otherwise. He grinned as he began to carve out the shapes into the dough, wiggling his butt as he sang along to Shakin’ Stevens. He missed every other verse, the concentration distracting him from the song, making his tongue flick out from in between his lips. It was a frustrating habit, but at least Geralt said it looked cute.

Eventually he had ten, not entirely uniform cocks ready to bake, and he was rather proud of them. It would be fun to eat at any rate, innuendos galore! They were nearly done baking when Geralt returned. Jaskier didn’t hear the door open, too busy belting out Mariah Carey into his wooden spoon microphone and he almost fell on his ass when he turned round to see Geralt standing in the doorway.

His boyfriend was wearing a black and red Christmas jumper with the words “Bah Humbug” stitched onto the front. It was totally unfair how hot he still looked in an ugly christmas jumper, but perhaps love truly was blind. Jaskier grinned and jumped into Geralt’s arms, wrapping his legs around Geralt’s waist as their lips met in a sugary kiss.

“You’re home,” Jaskier sighed, pressing his forehead against Geralt’s and then laughing at the smear of flour now covering his boyfriend’s cheeks. “Oops!”

“Kitchen looks like a bombs hit it, Jask.”

“Worth it!” Waving off Geralt’s protests, Jaskier wiggled free and ran to the oven, just as the timer started to beep. He swiped up the oven mitts and proudly showed off his creation with a wide smile.

The look on Geralt’s face showed he was less than impressed, one eyebrow raised as he glanced between the tray of misshapen cocks and Jaskier. “Penises aren’t christmassy?”

“Yes they are!”

“Jask-”

“It’s Christmas, there are cookies. They are Christmas cookies, and thus!” Wildly sweeping his hand across the room, Jaskier scooped up a cookie from the tray, wincing as it burned a little in his hands. “Penises are, in fact, christmassy!”

Geralt tilted his head and smirked, arms crossing in front of his chest. “So…” there was something in Geralt’s tone of voice that instantly had Jaskier narrowing his eyes at his boyfriend. “No cocks in summer?”

“Wait what?!”

“Can’t have Christmas things in summer. December only.”

Pulling the cookies away from Geralt’s reach, Jaskier pouted. “You don’t deserve these. You are a horrible boyfriend!”

“You love me,” Geralt chuckled, his fingers brushing Jaskier’s cheek as he stopped him from fleeing, and then Jaskier was pulled into a chaste kiss. It was only natural to melt against his boyfriend’s chest, and the tray nearly went crashing to the ground. Only Geralt’s quick thinking stopped it as he caught the tray one handed, grabbing a tea towel at lightning speed and sliding the tray onto the countertop.

“God, I really do,” Jaskier hummed, his lips barely leaving Geralt’s. “But… you have to make cookies with me.”

Pouting up with perfected puppy eyes at Geralt, Jaskier knew it was only a matter of time before his boyfriend crumbled, and sure enough, Geralt scoffed and rolled his eyes after barely a few seconds.

“Fine.”

“Christmas penis cookies?”

“Yes, fuck… you little shit,” Geralt groaned making Jaskier laugh.

Before long they were both covered in flour, icing and chocolate, curled up together on the sofa with steaming mugs of mulled wine, and a plateful of brightly decorated cocks. Jaskier’s particular favourites were the ones with the shiny sugar balls that looked like piercings, but Geralt preferred his design with the bows. The upbeat rhythm of Chuck Berry’s Run Rudolph Run, echoed through the speakers as Jaskier hummed along through mouthfuls of cock, and even Geralt tapped his foot as they watched the fire crackle in the hearth.

Jaskier sighed, resting his head against Geralt’s shoulder. Maybe next year he should get a set of penis shaped cookie cutters. It could be their first new Christmas tradition.

@geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde, @comfyswitcherblanketfort, @fontegagrilledcheese, @dani-dandelino, @dapandapod @damnbert @officerjennie @feraljaskier @geralt-of-riviass @kueble @gilberik @llamasdumpsterfire @wherethewordsare @trickstermoose67 @alllthequeenshorses @skai6 @karolincki

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #geralt/jaskier #witcher #geraskier fic #established relationship #wolfie's witcher writing

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waugh-bao · 2 years ago

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@charliesmydarling It’s honestly true, Keith and Shirley are shockingly close in so many ways to being the same person.

1. They’re both trained artists. Keith studied graphic design at Sidcup Art College and Shirley went to the Royal College of Art for sculpture. (The shirt Keith is wearing is his own design and the horse behind Shirley is one of her creations).

2. Keith and Shirley are big fans of Chuck Berry and the blues.

“Shirley, who loves old school rock ‘n roll, was very excited about seeing Chuck Berry.”-Stanley Booth

“[Chuck Berry] is the granddaddy of us all.”-Keith Richards, 2017

3. As such massive rock fans, they worked very hard to keep their favorite drummer in the Stones.

"The one regret I have of this life is that I was never home enough. But she always says when I come off tour that I am a nightmare and tells me to go back out."-CW, 2012

“Keith always asks what the hell I would do [if I retired].”-CW, 2019

4. They’ve got very, very similar style, which Charlie was always full of praise for.

“The way Keith dresses is amazing. Often I’ll put on one of his belts or something made of tapestry and it looks fuckin’ ridiculous on me. Keith has beautiful style. He has a way of putting on clothes together that I’d never dream of."

"Who is the most stylish woman in the world? Shirley Watts, in her own way.”

5. Neither is the biggest fan of Bill Wyman personally.

“Shirley, staring at Bill as if she were thinking of something else, said, ‘I read something that said all that’s left for the Stones now is to die before they’re thirty, and I thought it was terrible, I was very upset, and then I remembered Bill’s already thirty. So that’s alright.’”-Stanley Booth

“Well, it’s not like Charlie quit.”-KR on Wyman leaving the band, 1991

6. They’re both extremely sassy, and don’t mind embarrassing Charlie every once in a while.

“We [girls] weren’t to go into the studio while the band was recording, but she [Shirley] decided she was going and took me. Mick was furious and ordered us out, but Shirley hissed at me, ‘Don’t move!’ So we sat there with Mick pulling faces at us through the control room glass.”-Chrissie Shrimpton, MJ's Girlfriend 1963-1966

“Later in the evening, just to embarrass Charlie, Keith jabbed a needle full of smack through his jeans and into his bottom. He left the syringe hanging there, walking around the room and laughing.

‘He’s fucking ‘orrible, Charlie murmured.”-Stephen Davis, 1991

7. They share a big soft spot for animals, especially strays.

8. Plus, they prefer a quiet country life with family to go along with the animals, and a big library.

“If I’m not working I usually read. I like Colette and Jane Austen or books on sculpture and painting.”-Shirley Watts, 1991

“Keith Richards has extensive personal libraries in both of his Sussex and Connecticut homes. I’m fact, he has so many books that he once considered ‘professional training’ to better manage his vast collection.”-Colleen Collins Books, 2012

9. Both of them are quite loyal, and always willing to look out for each other.

"She [Shirley] didn’t mind at all that both Mick and Keith gave Charlie a goodnight kiss on the mouth.”-Philip Norman, “Mick Jagger” (2012)

"I remember a guy comes up and bothers Charlie's wife and Keith smashes him over the head with a beer bottle, while holding a baby, as he pushes the guy down the stairs."-Ronnie Schneider

“She [Shirley] has known Mick and Keith for many, many years and she loves both of them.”-CW, 2012

“Charlie hasn’t changed much since I met him first except that he’s a lot happier since he got married.”-KR, 1965

10. And, of course, they both adore Charlie completely.

“I love Charlie even more than when we married. I'm so mad about him. He has an incredible depth of sweetness in his nature.”-Shirley Watts, 1998

“Charlie Watts is my absolute favourite. He has all of the qualities that I like in people. Great sense of humor, a lovely streak of eccentricity, a real talent, very modest.”-KR, 1998

#Charlie essentially married the cooler/prettier/vegetarian version of Keith #good on him for having such amazing taste #also #I love how much Keith and Shirley love their husband #and how much Keith and Shirley love each other #charlie watts #keith richards #old married band #young married band #the rolling stones #middle aged married band #my (platonic) otp #shirley watts #mick jagger #bill wyman

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daily-fantasy-ideas · 3 years ago

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CW: Yelling

What if some sort of fantasy government in your setting suddenly tires to impose itself on the land and on other lands by introducing Identification and passports as a way of controlling the movement of people, much to the chagrin and confusion of said people.

And I know that there is some ancient historical precedent for passport-esq things as a way of allowing for people to pass through certain places while on journeys.

But I'm talking about a weird half-functioning modern style passport system that's been chucked inexplicably into a fantasy setting.

Partially as a way of criticising borders and how they in combination with the hassle around traveling through them are used as a way to divide people, but also because it'd be funny to imagine someone exhaustedly saying something like:

"Buddy ,I'm an elf who for the past thousand years has spent their life frolicking around in the woods across mossy stone and fallen leaves picking up and eating tasty looking berries and fungi. DO I SOUND OR LOOK LIKE I'D KNOW WHAT A PASST-PORT IS"

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positivexcellence · 4 years ago

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After 15 seasons of angels, demons, vampires, werewolves, Scooby-Doo, Hitler, the Titanic and several apocalypses, “Supernatural” is ending in appropriately epic fashion: Sam and Dean Winchester vs. God, for all the marbles.

“How are these two humans going to face off against the ultimate celestial being?” asks Jensen Ackles, who plays Dean on the horror-tinged CW series.

Jared Padalecki, who plays Dean’s younger brother Sam, gives a simple answer: “The way they always have. They just buck up and do it.”

After COVID-19 postponed filming of the last two episodes of its final season, “Supernatural” returns Thursday (8 EDT/PDT) for its last seven hours to deliver a cataclysmic ending for a show and its two monster-hunting siblings that have become a cult hit with a passionate fan base. (The series finale is scheduled for Nov. 19.)

“We reapproach everything and see the culmination of what Sam and Dean have gone through for 15 years and their efficiency at doing just that,” Padalecki says.

“I love the fact that they had us get to the final level and face the big bad,” Ackles adds. It’s “this big, climactic, amazing showdown, but filtered in with them doing what they do best, which is just hunting your run-of-the-mill things that go bump in the night.”

Thursday’s return is a somewhat lighthearted affair: Sam and Dean discover a housekeeping wood nymph named Mrs. Butters (guest star Meagen Fay) in their bunker, and she gives them a taste of all the holidays they’ve missed before things go awry, “Supernatural” style.

“It's easier to come back with an episode like this than something that would be deeply depressing or heavy,” says executive producer Andrew Dabb. “Those episodes are coming.”

The ensuing weeks will see Sam and Dean preparing for a dust-up with the Almighty, aka Chuck (Rob Benedict); the Winchesters searching for God’s sister Amara (Emily Swallow); and a flashback to an early case when the siblings were kids, “which fills in an interesting part of their story but also ties in thematically and emotionally what Sam and Dean will be going (through) in the present day," Dabb says.

He adds that the final round of episodes centers on the climactic face-off and “how do you fight that fight, knowing that God’s keeping you around for some pretty petty manipulative reasons, and he's still trying to puppet-master our guys a little bit. How do you break free from that for hopefully the last time?”

Dabb also promises to reveal "new sides" of key characters like the angel Castiel (Misha Collins), Jack (Alexander Calvert) – the devil's son, who may be the key to defeating God – and Billie (Lisa Berry), the reaper currently holding the position of Death, as well as Chuck and Amara: "As often happens on 'Supernatural,' you may be a big cosmic player, but you still have sibling issues."

In addition to giving proper send-offs, Padalecki reveals that sacrifice – always a “Supernatural” hallmark – plays a big role, too. “The most inspiring things for me, and for a lot of fans I've met in person, have been the moments where Sam and Dean go through something and then wake up the next day or the day after that or the next week and go, ‘OK. It's time for me to get back at it.’ And there's a lot of that in the final couple of episodes.”

Before they could film those 19th and 20th episodes, the stars were “shoveled back to Austin,” Texas, from Vancouver on March 13 due to COVID-19 and, spending time with their wives and kids, got “a little appetizer” for what life would be like post-“Supernatural,” Padalecki says. (He's starring this season in CW's "Walker," a reboot of 1993-2001 CBS drama "Walker, Texas Ranger" that starred Chuck Norris.)

“The silver lining is that we got to take a break and recharge our batteries,” says Ackles, who calls the penultimate episode a “season finale” and the last a “series finale.” “Certainly the season could have ended after 19 and would have been like, ‘OK, that makes sense.’ But then we come back for one more episode and just knock you straight in the teeth.”

Sam and Dean vs. God: 'Supernatural' returns for a final round of episodes to 'knock you straight in the teeth'

#j2 #Jared Padalecki #Jensen Ackles #Andrew Dabb

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evil-t4t-lumpygrab · 3 years ago

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Woody Nightshade Chap 2

Prev chapter

Summary:

Living alone in the woods was often dangerous, that was to be expected. She’d gotten hurt before but never as badly as this.

word count:1.5K

This was my first time writing for Huntress Wizard! Wrote this for the “kindness from a stranger” prompt and was also inspired by the tags @slap-my-hand left on the last chapter (thank you soo much I always love your comments they’re so genuine and really engage with me and make me feel good about my writing)

cws: similar to last chapter. Bleeding and wounds. Also homelessness related trauma I suppose.

LSP was in some sort of cave. She could tell from the air pressure (something lumpy people were more sensitive to) and the echoey sound of the dripping water. She also heard the sound of someone in the cave with her.

Her wound had been bandaged but she still kept her eyes shut and pretended to be asleep. A year ago she would have jumped up and started complaining but that was a person who hadn't been bitten by wolves, or robbed. She'd been passed out on the forest floor pooling blood, anything could have happened to her. The person who’d brought her here had a light step and was quietly cleaning something, she had no way of knowing if they were facing her. They probably were.

She waited until they got up to open her eyes.

She recognised Huntress Wizard and realised she was in her lair. It smelled dank and earthy, and seemed to have been hollowed out into the underground with a slope leading out, a curtain of animal pelts blocking the entrance. From the ceiling hung the drying carcasses of hunted animals.

LSP pictured herself suspended from the ceiling, dead. She was the only lumpy person in Ooo, she'd make a fine trophy for a hunter. The only one of her species- would she taxidermy her or dissect her? People had to be curious about her. Some people - Princess Bubblegum included- looked at her with curious eyes that said "how does she float like that? Does a purple creature bleed purple, is it purple all the way through?" Of course someone would try to find out for themselves.

Huntress wizard was moving things around in a wicker basket by the soily wall. LSP picked up a rock from the floor without taking her eyes off her back and began to move in the direction of the exit. Her side felt like it was on fire as she began to float, so she could only keep herself a few inches off the ground. She wouldn't be able to move very fast, if it came to it. She gripped her rock tighter.

"I see you're awake." Huntress wizard didn't turn around and LSP didn't stop edging towards the door. "Your wound is infected. If you leave you will experience much pain. I have medicine. I won't hurt you."

"Like you didn't hurt those?"

"That's my prey. The animals of the forest need me as a predator to prevent them becoming over-populated and damaging the plant life by overeating. Rabbits for example will chew up a whole pasture if they're allowed to do it, and then their children won't have enough to eat, so they'll be forced to move or starve. In the long run, the symbiotic relationship is what they need. While it may seem cruel."

LSP didn’t ask for a lecture on ecology, she glared at her, brandishing her rock. "Give me the fucking medicine and let me go."

"If that's what you want. Though I'll need to explain a few things to you before you go."

"Like what?"

Huntress Wizard gestured for LSP to sit back down on the bed of furs and extended her fist towards her. She opened it with her palm facing up, a handful of berries balanced on it.

"Berries?"

"Do you know what these are?"

"Food."

"The species."

"Uh. Red?"

Huntress Wizard shook her head, her leaves rustling. "No. Look closely-" she poked one with her finger, "this one is a different shape to the others."

"And?"

"It is a different type of berry. These oval ones are rose hips. They grow on thorned bushes and are edible."

"Can I have it?"

"Yes."

LSP hadn’t eaten in ages so she gladly chucked the rose hip into her mouth. It was bitter.

"Do you know which ones are poisonous?" Huntress Wizard asked.

"Uh… no."

"These are the berries you were picking - woody nightshade.” She rolled a red berry around her gloved palm, “If eaten they induce vomiting and pain. Nasty biz."

"Oh."

Huntress wizard removed the woody nightshade berries and dropped the rest onto the bed. "You don't seem to know these things, I'm curious how you've survived in the woods so long."

"I'm just lucky I guess." LSP shrugged. She didn’t feel very lucky. She also wasn’t sure how she’d been okay this long.

"Perhaps." Huntress Wizard said enigmatically and silently stole away back to her baskets. She had stacks of jars as well, and various dried herbs suspended from the ceiling alongside the dead bodies of animals. LSP turned away, she didn’t like looking at their dead, staring eyes that said “If you’d bled out a little more, this could have been you.”

She heard the sound of Huntress Wizard crushing herbs in a grinder and the sound of running water, followed by the swish of her leaf hair as she sat back down next to the bed. "This is a herbal salve.” LSP looked down at a wooden bowl filled with some sort of goo. “You'll need to make it using-"

"Oh shoot I'm gonna have to make this stuff?"

"Yeah."

"Ugh. Okay." LSP frowned at the goo. It had bits of ground plants in it that she probably didn’t know the names of, and felt cool to the touch when she poked it. The arrow wound in her side still hurt.

"If you want you can stay here until you recover." Huntress Wizard said it like a statement, not a question.

"I don't have much choice."

"No, you do not."

LSP removed the bandages wrapped around her and examined the wound. The purple blood had dried to a dark crust that had matted her fur in a long messy trickle down her side, and the wound itself was still softly, painful oozing.There was a bit of pus mixed in with the blood, a multicoloured thick liquid that was the same colour as her bile when she vomited. Huntress Wizard pressed a cloth to it and LSP winced as she soaked up the fluids, then dabbed some of the salve over it.

“Are you sure that’ll work? I’m an alien you know. Just in case you haven’t noticed.”

“It will work.” She handed LSP a bandage. “Do you know how to do it yourself?”

“Uh, yeah. I got a first aid badge and everything when I was a scout.”

“You were in girl scouts?”

“Uh. Yeah of course.” LSP busied herself with the bandage.

“I see.” She put the salve to one side. “And there was another like you years before.”

“Did you shoot them too?”

“No. It was a wolf attack.”

Huntress Wizard got up and went to her supplies again. She sat down on a carved stool facing the wall and began cleaning an arrow that was lying on a basket lid beside her. LSP looked at the green feathers of it, which were speckled with purple, and realised that was the arrow she’d almost been killed by.

"So are you going to apologise for shanking me with an arrow?" LSP fumed.

"There is nothing to apologise for. I did not purposefully hurt you." The hunter replied coolly, not looking at her.

"Yeah but you still did. And you're supposed to apologise to people."

Huntress Wizard held up the arrow to examine the arrow tip in the light, she turned it over, checking for damage. She placed it in the quiver on her belt and turned to face LSP, staring at her with her large green eyes. "I'm sorry. If it makes you feel better." There was no remorse in her voice.

LSP rolled her eyes and shifted. There was no getting through to people like that, same as there was no getting through to her parents. Thinking of them she felt a pang of guilt and wondered what they were doing right now. Were they having dinner, or watching TV? Maybe they were worried about her. She wondered what they imagined she got up to.

"Whatever. Thanks for cleaning me up I guess." She mumbled.

"You're welcome." This response set LSP's teeth on edge but she didn't say anything, instead she gathered up the berries that had been dropped on her bed. She held the red berries in her hands, noting their shapes and sizes.

“So can I eat these or what?”

Huntress Wizard looked over at her again. "I can show you other poisonous berries while you recover."

LSP nodded but didn’t say anything. Instead she listened as Huntress Wizard named their species and explained their different uses. Chokeberries grew in the winter and had a sharp bitter taste, but could be eaten raw. Dogwoods and Holly were poisonous. Barberries were also bitter but could be stewed as tea and drank, Autumn Olives could be made into preserves for winter, and varied in flavour.

“You’re talking a lot about winter berries,” LSP frowned. “It’s freaking summer.”

“Winter is the hardest time to find food and survive.” Huntress Wizard said, “so I am teaching you about it. I assume you can’t just go home.”

LSP looked down at the dogwood berry in her hand and slowly turned it over. “No. I can’t.”

#my writing

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the-rat-plays-games · 4 years ago

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Fall of the Greymanes

@wolves-of-winter-pines - > for relevant greymane content lol thank you for letting me wreck their shit under the cut, cw: violence. “No matter how much you think you love somebody, you'll step back when the pool of their blood edges up too close. “ - Chuck Palahniuk

‘ The mountain is restless. You have to hold your ear to the ground to hear it, unless you’ve lived there like Yvar has, like Blodundr has. They know it like their heartbeats. Yvar shows it more, this mountainwolf cunning; she is small and compact, large-pawed, nimble enough to climb rocks like a mountain goat. For weeks, the six founders of Blutothinn have picked through the mountain’s forests. They’ve scaled stones and peaks.

They’ve been watching. Vilhelm, even though his heart isn’t in the work he has to do, proves to be an excellent spotter.

“Look at them,” Yvar growls low, her back twitching, fur rippling and rising, “look at them. They don’t know what they have.”

And it’s true: to the Greymanes, who have held this territory for generations, the mines that burrow deep are nothing but convenient places to weather storms, even if the sleep that comes is shallow sometimes, full of nightmares.

Twice, conversation has happened. The first was Vilhelm, pleasant and warm, approaching to ask politely-- “Please,” he’d said, “we’ve a claim here, and we intend to-”

And some wolf had snapped at him, and that was that.

The second was ... simpler. Far simpler. Yvar merely had Kvatch join her and took to waiting in the trees. Eventually, a Greymane scout left. The kill proved simple enough. The body, decorated, heart torn free, entrails spattered ‘round the corpse, was left on the doorstep.

We will kill you all, it said, if you do not leave.

It is Svera who brings the news of an overturned leader and dismay within the pack ranks. Yvar leaps to her feet, throws aside the prey she’d been chewing on, and gallops to the rest of the meagre pack. Gyda carries a wound poultice in her jaws. Vilhelm and Blodundr and Kvatch drop a deer’s corpse. They all know. They know.

Yvar just grins at them.

Berries and blood smear six coats; Yvar’s void-eye rolls eagerly in its dark socket. That’s the worst of it, really. While Blutothinn may be outnumbered, they are united, and Yvar is a zealous warrior indeed; she pulls Kvatch, who is strong in a way wolves are not supposed to be, up to her side.

Most packs tend to sing some kind of song as they sweep into enemy territory.

There is no such thing here.

For the Greymanes, there is no warning.

Just the rush of paws into the mine’s mouth.

Blutothinn moves like a unit that is highly polished -- they know there is one chance at this. There is no mercy.

Only blood. Only the lingering howls. The bodies stacked atop an altar. No mercy -- save for a pup, found cowering low and whining for mother’s milk. Yvar takes the pup in, names him, makes him her own.

(They do not know that a detachment fled already, knowing the worst was to come.)

Yvar stands before the shrine and reads its runes. She listens to Svera clear out a place to have their children. Blodundr cleans his wounds quietly, cursing old gods.

She feels something swell in her chest then, something unknowably powerful, and it makes her tremble.

#founders #blutothinn #enemy: the greymanes #pack: winter pines #c: yvar #c: svera #c: kvatch #c: vilhelm #c: gyda #c: blodundr #wolvden #wolvden lore

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themockingcrows · 6 years ago

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Candy Sweet

Happy Valentines Day! Wrote a quick lil bit of not sfw ficlet on my JohnDave server and wanted to share. ;3c I’ll be posting it on ao3 as well.

cw: foodplay, oral sex

Dave makes John some special chocolates and introduces him to a fun new way of eating candy.

Chocolate. It had to be chocolate. At first glance, chocolate seems like it'd be simple to work with. Follow the directions, apply here and there into molds and blammo: chocolate in new shapes. Except no, chocolate's a bitch to work with and if you heat it too much it turns into a pile of shit visually. It took Dave two tries, fails, and frantic calls to friends to finally get the double boiler technique into practice (thank you Dirk for helping him with knowledge gleaned through watching too many valentines day weeb scenes to count).

The fruit of his efforts before John could get home was one dozen fancy chocolates, filled with just the right consistency of caramel or berry filling, and all bearing a fairly decent pattern thanks to the mold. Shit, he even fucked around and made a box to put the stuff in. John already failed to be sneaky and admitted he had something planned for valentines day. ..That obviously meant that Dave had to up his game and surprise the dork a day early.

Candies chilled, set to perfection and carefully placed in the box, Dave set about his other plan: cheesy overdone path to bedroom: done. The candles were ignored in favor of something a bit less "set the apartment on fire if we kick it by accident", lights skewing soft reds and pinks. Almost perfect. Damn near perfect.

Till John got home early, at least. Motherfucker had some issues with punctuality, he was either way early or ridiculously late, there was never an in between and there was little to be done about it but be thankful that at least the chocolates were still a surprise.

"Hey Da- uh. ...You know it's not today right?" John said, stopped by the door to toe his shoes off and chuck his bag across the room at the sofa instead of setting it down like a sensible person. "Valentine's tomorrow, your present isn't entirely ready ye-"

"I know the date, John, it's called being fashionably early."

"....That's not a thing."

"Well it fuckin' is now," Dave said, leaning down to shuck his pants and step out of them before kicking the denim to the side. "You want the fashionably early present, or do you want me to wait and be actually punctual for this? I can just as easy put my pants back on and wait, man, you're the one who doesn't want early presents, not me. Not like I went outta my way to do this early so I could surprise you or anything and make a special moment for you so your thing'd have its own stage time." And so his could be first, whoops.

"No!" John said suddenly, rushing across the room. "No, no, pants can stay off, I'm interested! Who doesn't like early presents!" He reached out to grab Dave around the hips but paused, fingers wiggling. "Er. You're part of the gift, right? I just noticed there's no bow."

"Boxers are still on, who's to say there's not a bow on my cock."

"Is there?"

"You got home early, what do you think about cock bow possibilities."

"...Okay, I'll accept less decorative dick. Are you part of the present though?"

Dave stepped back from the wiggling fingers and gestured in further to the pink toned room. "How about you strip down and I'll show you?"

Who was John to argue? That kind of a statement usually implied great shit would be following, and when Dave was involved John knew better than to ignore the opportunity. (Seriously, he'd ignored the opportunity a few times and it'd resulted in Dave waking him up at 3am to deliver the gift he'd straight up accidentally ignored, signals are hard to pick up on sometimes, okay?)

Off went the pants, off went the shirt, and with Dave's help and a few hungry kisses off went the underwear as well before he went and took a cozy seat at the head of the bed, already eager and half hard. Oh boy, what could it be? He hoped it wasn't too similar to what he had planned, but at the same time...

"...Chocolate?" John said when Dave pulled out the box and opened the lid with a grin from the side of the bed, making a show of bowing with it for presentation's sake. "Is uh. ...Dave why do I need to be naked for chocolate. I'm pretty sure I can eat those with my pants on. ...Unless there's peanut in it I guess, that'd probably make some microdifference for the epi-pen."

"All of these ones are for you," Dave said, gesturing to 3/4 of them with a fingertip. "These ones though, are for both of us."

"...You're not answering the no pants question yet, Dave."

Rolling his eyes and mumbling something about romance being dead, Dave set the box aside, dropped his final layer, and picked up a chocolate between his fingertips before moving to straddle John's thighs.

"I made these myself you know. They're tempered just right.. which means they melt pretty easy if you're not careful. I used high quality stuff, even made the filling," he said, tracing the chocolate in a gentle line from John's nose, over his lips, and down his throat before it started to melt. He used it almost like a crayon, drawing widening lines of chocolate till the berry filling leaked out as well in an arc towards his chest. "So like I said. The others are all yours. But these ones are for sharin'," Dave said as he carefully licked the stripe from John's neck and slipped his fingers into his boyfriend's mouth so he could get the rest of the chocolate and the spreading sweetness at the same time Dave's tongue cleaned the messy path it'd made as thoroughly as possible.

Oh. ...Oh, okay, John hadn't anticipated THIS kind of present. He could feel his dick twitch against Dave's stomach while he leaned and roved his tongue around, pausing here and there to suckle and bite, no doubt leaving marks more lasting than the chocolate had been. The fingers in his mouth were sweet over top the familiar taste of Dave, and his own reached down to grasp either side of the blonde's ass to hold him closer, keep him from pulling away.

Till he pulled his fingers loose to grab another chocolate at least, and showed interest in going further down with it. With a fond farewell squeeze, John released Dave and watched with rapt attention as he repeated the same process down his stomach, down his abdomen, and... to his inner thigh instead of his dick. It made his blue eyes twitch a bit, so close yet so far before he accepted the messy fingers between his lips again, Dave staring up from beneath his bangs with heavy lidded eyes. He could feel the smirk again his skin, smug, knowing just how much he was denying John but not giving anything a second faster than he wanted to.

The third piece of candy brought Dave back up to John's chest, over either nipple.

"Dave I'm dying, come on, you can't just tease me like that! It's. It's right there!!" he complained, surprised at how frantic he felt. Maybe it was the leading touch and then the licking that was doing it? He'd been teased plenty of times and it hadn't felt quite like this before, never been quite this methodical and maddening. "It's gonna turn blue and break off," John whined, complaints only stopping when fingers were once again worked into his mouth.

"You and your smurf dick can hold out for another few minutes while I enjoy my dessert, makin' this shit took all day," Dave drawled, biting a peaked nipple gentle with his teeth and tugging. Who was he kidding, his own dick was aching like crazy, but he didn't want to touch it yet. After all, there'd still be eight more candies by the time he was done with John. Who knew where the night might lead?

John's whines were cute, puppy dog eyes in full activation behind his glasses any time Dave looked up, frantic and hopeful when he pulled his fingers free to grasp the last chocolate he'd allotted himself. The trail ran along his inner thigh once more, Dave's tongue right behind it as he hummed and cleaned the sticky treat up on the fly, before finally, finally there was relief. John's whine turned to a throaty moan when he finally felt the press of candy on his dick... only to return to the whine when he didn't feel Dave's tongue right afterwards.

"Dave! Dave, come on, it's. It's sticky when you just leave it like that!"

"Yeah, it's candy."

"It's gross!"

"For a minute, chill out," Dave said lazily, tracing till he was halfway done before putting the remaining candy in his mouth and stuffing his fingers back into John's mouth before dropping down onto the head of John's dick.

He was thorough, for all the whines and shuffles that John had him working to keep up through. The candy had dissolved and disappeared, the mess had been cleaned up thoroughly already, and now all that was left was the heavy heat of cock in Dave's mouth, the faint hint of salt from pre-come and the sweet aftertaste of chocolate and berries as he bobbed his head. John's hands rose to withdraw Dave's fingers, guiding his hands to his hips instead before his own hands went to stroke at the faintly curled strands of blonde hair, trying not to buck up into his mouth as he worked.

All good things must come to an end, however. For all the lead up Dave had secured and how eager John was surprised to find himself under the loving onslaught of candy and mouth (and by now the sight of Dave's skinny hips moving as he rutted against John's legs and the air beneath him out of the need to find some friction to work himself against), John could only hold out so long. Though he tried to warn Dave, maybe have him pull up for a kiss or the sexy option of painting his face a bit and making a frosting joke, his boyfriend stayed determinedly in place and sunk even lower. When John stiffened all he had to do was hurriedly swallow to keep up, the bobbing of his head slowing till he pulled away with a few final licks. The taste of candy was gone, but it still felt just as well.

Flush faced and lively still, John waited about ten seconds for Dave to catch his breath before he shot up and rolled him, catching his wrists and drawing them up over his head as he straddled his waist.

"So. The other candies are mine, right?"

"All yours."

#johndave #davejohn #john egbert #dave strider #homestuck #not sfw #my fic

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