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ghostgirl-22 · 1 day ago

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i can't get the idea of patrick and art dry humping and getting off like that out of my head help

*Tashi voice* Does this help you anon??

CW: MDNI, NSFW

Summary: This is about when Patrick comes out as bisexual and Art, just so excited for him, becomes the most annoying “fake” gay friend ever.

—-

He’s finally certain after he sees Pirates of the Caribbean for the first time. Then the second time. Then he buys the dvd just to be really, really sure. Sitting in the dorm while Art’s away, jerking off imagining himself as Orlando Bloom, imagining himself as Kiera Knightly.

He’s so nervous about what Art will think but it turns out to be no big deal. Art brushes it off like “haha okay cool man, just don’t fall in love with me.”

Patrick is already in love with him…he probably always has been… but doesn’t want to freak Art out, so he just says, “shut up dude, you’re not even my type.”

They both laugh. Things deflate and mostly go back to normal.

Except for the fact that Art gets so, well… gay… for lack of a better phrase. He gets really flirty over the next few months. Suddenly he’s got his arms over Patrick’s shoulder all the time, hanging off of him, playing with his hair, making little stupid jokes amongst their teammates. “Don’t be mad at his serve guys, it’s actually good and I’m not just saying that because he kisses me tenderly before we go to sleep every night.” Art says, their teammates snickering as Patrick tosses a tennis ball at him.

After practice Art comes to him in their dorm room. “Hey man you looked a little stiff out there, you want a massage? Lemme give you a massage,” and he’s rubbing Patrick’s shoulders. It feels nice until Art says “You can get naked and I’ll bring out the baby oil for you,” he grins before Patrick laughs and tells him to fuck off.

One Saturday they’re at a match. It's still early spring. Patrick gets chilly easily but his sweatshirt is in the wash. Art’s kind of an ice queen so he’s not phased by it. “Come on dude, you can borrow my sweater,” he says as Patrick shivers. So Patrick’s walking around all day with Donaldson on the back of his sweatshirt.

“It’s funny, like I gave you my last name or something,” Art teases. Which doesn’t make Patrick feel anyway at all.

Art likes to point out “hot dudes” to Patrick, in the guise of trying to help him find a boyfriend. “Come on you gotta rip the band aid off. If you don’t get a boyfriend soon… you’re gonna have to take me.”

“Yeah? You wanna be my boyfriend?” Patrick smirks.

“Sure, I'll break your hymen,” Art snorts.

Again Patrick feels completely fine and normal.

They play fight a lot more too. Well, they start up again. They used to do it a lot when they were kids and there’s a sudden resurgence of childish wrestling matches. Art usually starts it, he’ll dumbly jump on top of Patrick and try to get him to smell his armpit before he gets in the shower or something stupid like that which usually leads to the two of them breathless on the floor or in one of their twin beds. One of them pinning the other. Patrick usually has to adjust himself so he doesn’t give anything away.

Except Art acts like it’s what he wants. “Bet you wanna kiss me so bad right now, dude,” he smirks.

“Yeah I do, come here,” Patrick says and Art will laugh like he’s not serious.

Or even worse he’ll whisper in Patrick’s ear, “god I’m so fucking hard right now.” And then fall over in a fit of giggles. Asshole.

Patrick’s learned none of it’s serious. He knows Art isn’t doing it to be malicious, even if it kinda sucks sometimes. He knows Art loves him (as a friend) and maybe this is Art’s way of acting like nothing is different. Or maybe it’s his radical acceptance of Patrick’s sexuality. Or maybe… or maybe…

Whenever Patrick has a girlfriend Art will joke around like, “Okay she’s your girlfriend but like…I’m still your boyfriend, right?” He says it when they're in the middle of the last round of Mario Kart, just before Patrick’s about to leave for his date.

“Yeah always, loser,” Patrick adds the last part, as he zooms past Art in the game.

“Okay so gimme a kiss before you go,” Art taps his cheek. He’s so stupid. And Patrick is too, because he does it.

It comes to a head one night when Patrick’s in a bad mood. He didn’t do well on an exam and there's a possibility he might be at risk for academic probation. Usually when he’s in a bad mood he gets kinda horny and right now he’s not really in the mood for teasing.

They’re studying and Art sighs before asking Patrick for another homoerotic favor. “Fuck… dude please, please i need your help… can you stretch me? My legs are so fucking sore from those lunges. I can’t even focus.”

Patrick does it, only to stop Art from making those soft, extremely distracting, moans of discomfort. He stretches Art out on the solid surface of their bedroom floor. It’s a special kind of hell listening to him grunt his satisfaction.

Patrick’s pressing down one of Art’s legs, while leaning over his face. He’s shirtless, blond curls fanned out, blue eyes shining with amusement. He starts pouting those soft pink lips making stupid kissy faces. Patrick is so horny and irritated that he just does it. A little peck on his lips.

“Seriously like the best fucking kiss I’ve ever had in my life.” Art grins.

“Stop testing me,” Patrick snaps.

“Testing you how, man?” Art grunts out, nonchalant as Patrick stretches him deeper.

”You know I’m bisexual.” If Art keeps this up— today of all days Patricks gonna lose it and show him exactly what bisexual means.

“Yeah of course I do. Remember you’re my boyfriend, you buy me dinner and stuff,” he laughs and when Patrick doesn’t join him Art reaches out and pats his arm. “Don’t worry dude I got your back, always.”

Patrick narrows his eyes. “Boyfriend Art, really?”

”what? You don’t want me?” Art teases.

“Yeah, I want you.” Patrick says plainly, backing off of the stretch.

Art laughs, dropping his leg to the floor.

“I’m so fucking serious.” Patrick says, keeping eye contact.

Art’s smile starts to settle and he shrugs. “Well of course you do. I’m too hot to resist.”

Patrick rolls his eyes and then crawls over him. Kissing him again but this time he means it. Mouth pressed against soft smiling lips, he slides his tongue along Art’s teeth. Art breathes in and makes the mistake of opening up, which lets Patrick slip his tongue inside, finding Art’s tongue and massaging it with his own.

Art has mostly stilled but as soon as Patrick starts to pull back ready with the excuses he feels Art’s tongue move, and suddenly he’s licking, tasting, sliding into Patrick’s mouth. He hums as he actively starts to kiss Patrick back. He moves his leg so both of his feet are flat on the floor and his knees are drawn up, Patrick slotting himself naturally between his thighs. Never breaking the kiss.

He’s not sure how long they kiss, but he does feel it when Art starts to grind, pressing his hips up, using Patrick’s thigh for friction. Letting Patrick to rut against his thigh. Patrick can feel him, he’s legitimately aroused and it makes Patrick dizzy. Both of them, moaning and breathing heavy into each other’s mouths, the kiss getting sloppy and wet.

They’re rubbing off on each other clothed, Art in basketball shorts Patrick in his sweatpants, grinding like horny little preteens on the floor of their dorm room. Art comes first, loudly… no longer kissing, just moaning and gasping against Patricks mouth. The hottest thing Patricks ever experienced, his first time doing it with a boy. He already knows he’s gonna jerk off to this memory for years to come. Patrick blows his load in his boxers like he's 14 or something, while Art’s still coming down, breathlessly against him.

”Oh fuck,” Art breathes, after they both manage to catch their breath. “I thought I wasn’t your type?”

Patrick huffs a laugh and rolls over to lie on his back next to Art on the floor. “I thought you were straight.”

Art rolls on his side and grins at him. “So did I. Guess we were both lying.”

#art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers #challengers fic #artrick #art x patrick

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howi99 · 2 days ago

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A knight second chance 18

After an extensive explanation of everything that happened

Cinder: *rubbing her temples* Let me get this straight; Qrow Branwen, the strongest Huntsman in Vale and Ozpin third in command, and Roman Torchwick, who i just learned is the reason for Lionheart being caught and who undermined my plans since the beginning, works for you?

Jaune: They aren't working FOR me, they are working WITH me.

Cinder: *Roll her eyes* Same difference-

Jaune: *cutting her with a smirk* There is, actually. *Sigh* I'm not expecting Roman to stop being a thief because it would make my life easier, for example. All i asked him was to help me thwart your and Salem's plans. Funny how easy it is to get someone's trust, when they know the stakes at hands.

Cinder: *crossing her arms* And what now? You do realize that she'll go after us, right? Salem is... *wince* not really the "forgive and forget" kind of woman.

Jaune: What gave you that idea? The millennial feud or the fact she installed a deathswitch on you in the form of a parasitic Grimm?

Cinder: *deadpan* Sarcasm doesn't befit you.

Jaune: *smile* And i didn't take you for someone who'd state the obvious. *Pensive* I already took into consideration that she'll probably try something against you. Probably send Tyrian to kill you or something.

Cinder: And what about you?

Jaune: Well, she'll probably try to kill me too but-

Cinder: *shake her head* From what i saw of you in your memories, you wouldn't mind dying if it's to protect others. She might want to get you at first, but she'll quickly change her plans. *Leaning her back against the wall* Tell me; how well protected is your family?

Jaune: ... *Dropping his smile entirely* Shit. *Start running*

Mercury: *who was listening to the conversation* And you have a crush on this idiot?

Cinder: *frown* I might be unable to torch you alive, but i can still beat you up quite easily.

Mercury: *holding up his hands* Just saying, forgetting that big of a weakness is kind of a dumbass move.

Emerald: ... *Looking at Neo* So anyway, what were you two talking about before he brought us in?

Neo: *texting* I asked him if he wanted me to kill you all in your sleep. He said no... multiple times 😒😒😒

Emerald: ... Good thing he's a good guy and not someone like us; we'd be dead otherwise.

_ _ _

Roman: What?

Jaune: *out of breath* I *huff* god that's a long walk, i need you to make me a new identity hidden from the public! I need it yesterday!

Roman: *blink* Why?

Jaune: Remember the immortal witch?! Well, i need to make her believe that i am NOT Jaune Arc so that she won't go after those i can't protect!

Roman: ... You just realized she could go after your family, right?

Jaune: YES!

Roman: *sigh* ... I'll do what i can-

Jaune: *hugging him* Thank you, you despicable thief!

Roman: *trying his best to get out* Stop that, i don't swing this way unless my life depends on it or if i'm incredibly drunk!

#jaune arc #cinder fall #mercury black #emerald sustrai #neopolitian (rwby)#rwby #rwby au #a knight second chance #roman torchwick

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bewitched-hours · 11 hours ago

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Telamon with a child!reader who's starting to sprout out wings? It can be hcs ( if u do them ) or one-shots i'll give you the creative freedom

( do take care of urself, this request can be undone for as long as you like! i'm just a roaming anon w/ a liking to platonic dynamics :3 )

Ngl, that's adorable- ONE ONESHOT COMING RIGHT UP- Also, thank you for the well wishes, I'm sending them right back as I'm eating some spaghetti I actually made myself for once ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

Let's say the reader's pronouns are She/Her for once~

You only ever knew Telamon as your only real parent.

Back when you were a toddler, your biological parents had abandoned you because they got sick of caring for a child like you.

Because you kept crying and you didn't know why.

All you knew what that you felt a sharp pain in your back and so most of your time awake was spent in agony. And they couldn't take it anymore.

Really, you were lucky that you were found by Telamon when you were on the brink of starvation. He looked upon your crying form in pity and took you in.

Originally, he wanted to bring you to an orphanage after making sure you were fed and cleaned but when he saw what was causing you pain, he no longer had the heart to leave you.

You were growing wings. Probably a late bloomer. He couldn't help but feel bad over the fact your wings were growing improperly and your skin wasn't letting them grow out.

You only remember feeling dizzy after being cleaned up properly and when you woke up, the pain was gone!

Telamon had tried his best to make a careful cut where the bones of your wings were trying to grow out and patch you back up so the cuts wouldn't leak any blood but still allow further growth.

You were meant to be on bedrest for a few weeks after to let your wings adjust and the wounds heal but just days after the 'surgery', you already attempted to go back to Telamon.

After all, he made the pain stop and took care of you. Why wouldn't you think that this was your new home?

Telamon was hesitant at first, trying to put you back to bed and telling you to sleep. But you didn't bother to listen, instead showing that you were only willing to sleep with him nearby.

He did relent pretty quickly that, letting you rest up on him and even getting a little carrier to make sure he could still tend to his duties.

And yeah, he got a little attached admittedly...

So that was to say, your wings were just as energetic as you once you started acting like a normal child.

Telamon would even help you maintain your wings and allowed you to help take care of his in return. You did make a strange habit out of collecting some of the feathers he'd lose to stuff into your pillow as a way to always feel safe.

He damn near exploded into tears when you explained that.

Maybe being a parent was up his alley after all...

So where was he now...?

This is totally not an attempt to see if people would like a part two of this where you guys meet again in forsaken to reunite with papa- (Haven't decided though if that should be as a killer to have another 007&CK moment or as a survivor to have a happy reunion-)

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

#forsaken roblox #forsaken #roblox forsaken #forsaken x reader #forsaken x y/n #platonic forsaken x reader #platonic forsaken x child reader #child reader #telamon x reader

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sweet-heavenp · 2 days ago

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finally.. I can request someone!!! may i humbly request a killer!taph x reader? Either headcanons or just cuddle fluff thanbk yob good bye 👋

I might request often so may I be known as 🍀 anon?

🪽. SLEEP

(Killer!taph x reader !!)

Helloo 🍀 anon !! So sorry for the late make!!! I got this request when i got to school!!! Now im done with school! Yay!!! Bird killer taph… lol..

TW : Uh dead body’s :( taph’s a fattie /j

Oh, poor you. How did you end up there? Trapped and with the killer. Well- ur ex friend, actually.. you don’t know what happened to make taph go into killing and insanity. You never saw taph to be the kind of person to kill people!! At all.

You, now being in the killer resting place but in the tree, where taph made his little “nest” is what he liked to call it. You didn’t know how this whole tree can stand without it breaking from the all heavy weight it was forced to carry. It was all good except for the fact the killer was cuddling you.

He had his black and golden wings wrapped around you like a blanket. One hand on ur wrists so you couldn’t fight back like the first 2 time’s! And his free hand was petting and brushing ur hair with his sharp but covered hands. To be honest, it was quite nice- butttt, it would be nicer if taph wasn’t some crazy killer and being keeped up on a tree like some kidnapped victim, which, you were.

Taph pushed ur head more against his chest meanwhile he rested his head on top of yours. You were kinda sweating and still scared since you saw some.. things up here.. like the dead bodies of some unfortunate people… taph slowly let go of ur wrist and wrapped both of his hands around you in a tight hug. Deadly cuddles i guess?

The sound of the trees leaves falling and the howling wind was kinda calming, you could feel yourself coming to the sleepy feeling you have been feeling since you got here. A little nap couldn’t hurt, right?..

Taph titled his head a little bit, feeling your body relax. Great, his plan worked.

Ahhhh sorrryyy if it’s short dude I’m tired from schoolll :((( yayyhu hope you enjoyed anyway!!!! Skibitui

#forsaken x reader #forsaken #forsaken roblox #angel writes🦠🪽#roblox #taph forsaken #forsaken x you #im cool hehhehee

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hoon1sm · 4 hours ago

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␥# all mine . ᐟᐟ☆~ p. sh

[ word count : 2.2k + of pure filth MDNI ]

[ tags + warnings : sunghoon x inexperienced virgin fem!reader, heavy corruption kink, sunghoon is kind of toxic and perverted in this, teasing, petnames, praise and degradation, choking, fingering, unprotected sex, very slight dubcon, power dynamics, kind of open ending ]

don’t like, don’t read

a/n : listen this concept started haunting me the moment i listened to the lyrics on the english version of bad desire and then i just kind of wrote this entire monstrosity in one sitting 🫣 i promise the next thing i post will be another request! this sort of just spawned by itself and then i felt like posting it right away. written and edited by me so i apologize if there are mistakes !! comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💗

from the moment he saw you, he knew he would do anything to make you his. everything about you was pretty. from the way your hair was tied up with a bow, to the white lacy dress you were wearing, to the shiny lipgloss on your pouty lips, to the sparkly pink eyeshadow matching with your lip color. all of it just accentuated how innocent you looked. and he was going to be the one to ruin you.

he knows he is goodlooking, so of course it’s easy for him to weave his way into your life. he meets you in the library first. presenting himself as a caring and friendly studying partner and later on becoming a friend, always willing to listen whenever you need someone to confide in. he starts coming over to your place more and more frequently, insisting that cuddling while watching a movie is a perfectly fine thing for two friends to do. he always makes sure to touch your soft skin, grazing his fongertips along your waist or hips absentmindedly after very carefully moving your shirt up a little.

“sunghoon… i think… i need your help?” now that is odd. not the fact that you’re asking him to help you with something, but your hesitation in asking has him paying closer attention. he turns his head slightly to look you in the eyes, you’re so close it’s hard for him not to imagine rolling over on top of you, pushing up your loose sleep shirt, pulling your panties to the side and taking you right here in your own bed, movie be damned. but, he is a sensible man and he can control himself. of course.

“you know you can ask me anything, right?” he purposely lowers his voice a little, taking note of the way you’re shifting uncomfortably, hands busy picking at the bedsheets you’re lying under. you’re clearly nervous about something.

you cast your eyes down, embarrassed. “well, it’s just… recently i went out with hayeon and my other friends, right?” he nods his head, and starts drawing little circles on your shoulder with his thumb in an attempt to comfort you. “well, so, like… god, this is embarrassing.” you take a deep breath before continuing. “but, like, they were all talking about their boyfriends, and then somehow we wound up at the topic of me being still a virgin, and that sort of spiraled into them making fun of me for it, and so i guess my question to you is would you please be my first?”

fuck. is he dreaming? you’re finally asking him to ruin your innocence forever?

“…excuse me?”

your reaction is immediate. pulling away from his hold, taking his surprise as rejection. avoiding his eye contact, cheeks burning red in shame. “nevermind, forget i asked.” you mumble. “you should probably go now, or whatever.”

he pulls you back down from where you were attempting to stand up off the bed, his hands circling your wrists. “look at me,” he demands. you look up at him again. fuck, you’re so gorgeous. the tears welling up in your eyes from embarrassment are not helping him either. “are you sure you want this with me?” because even if it’s everything he’s been waiting on, he wants to make sure you are ready for this.

you blink away your tears and nod, looking a little more confident. “there’s no one i trust more than you, hoonie.” and just the sound of your voice speaking his name like that has him feeling weak already. this is finally happening. he finally has you where he’s wanted you all along.

it’s all he can take before he lets go of your wrists, tilts your head slightly by grabbing your neck and moves in to kiss you. he’s forceful from the start, immediately noting how truly inexperienced you are even in something as simple as kissing. you’re perfect for him. he licks his way into your mouth, moving one of his hands into your hair and pulling just a little bit, relishing in the soft moan you let out at the sensation. oh, he’s going to have so much fun with you.

he breaks away first, leaving you chasing his lips while trying to catch your breath. so cute. his hands feel at the hem of your shirt. he hesitates, raising his eyebrows and silently asking for your permission to take the garment off. “please,” comes your response and fuck, he’s really straining in his pants now from hearing you beg like that. he pulls off your shirt gently, and lays you down on the bed, hovering over you after taking off his own t-shirt and shorts. he catches you glancing down at his boxers, your eyes widening and your mouth slightly agape. he smirks. “don’t worry, i’m not gonna hurt you. we’ll go slowly,” he promises, at first is what he thinks after.

and shit he really wishes he could take a picture of you like this. looking at him with so much trust, still looking so perfectly innocent in your matching set of white lacy underwear. and fuck, is that a thong you’re wearing? he’s gonna lose his mind. “you’re so pretty, sweetheart. been thinking about this for a long time,” he confesses. he hadn’t meant to say that part out loud, but it slips out anyway. the way you smile at him so sweetly upon hearing this makes it worth it though.

he starts off slow, attaches his lips to your neck and busies himself with sucking pretty marks into your skin. now that he has you, he’s gonna make damn sure everyone knows that you’re his. you’re responsive to everything, letting out breathy noises each time he grazes his teeth against your skin, revealing once again how little experience you have doing this.

“sunghoon…” god. your voice sounds wrecked already and he has barely done anything yet. “what is it baby?” he asks. the petname slipping out easily. “can you…” your hands come up to cover your face in embarrassment, but he’s quick to grab your wrists together in one of his hands and pins them above your head instead. you’re completely at his mercy now. “don’t hide from me, pretty girl. and use your words.”

“hoonie,” you all but whine. “please… please just- please touch me?” and fuck, he’s imagined this scenario about a million different times in the privacy of his own room with his cock in his hand, but nothing could come close to hearing you say those words to him in real life.

“yeah baby? want me to touch you and make you feel good?” he brushes his fingertips over the top of your panties, and you whine again. you sound so pretty, and he wants nothing more than to make you feel good. so he lets go of your wrists, hooks his thumbs under the band of your underwear and pulls down, groaning at the sight of the string of slick connecting to your cunt. your panties are absolutely ruined, soaked with your wetness. those are definitely never gonna end up in your closet again, they are his now. “fuck. pretty girl you’re so wet for me already.” your cheeks burn red at the praise. but he pays attention to the way your expression turns brighter. noted. “gonna be my good little girl, hmm?”

he’s committed to drinking in every little expression that flits across your face as he brings his fingers up to your core and gently rubs across your slit, careful to not push in yet. you’re gasping so prettily, but your eyes turn darker, pupils blown wide with lust as your hands reach up to pull him in for another kiss.

he lets you make out with him for a while, before finally curling one of his fingers into your sopping hole. you pull away with a moan.

“need to stretch you out a bit before you can take my cock, baby. ‘cute little hole can barely fit one finger.” you’re panting now, letting out pretty noises everytime he moves his digit and he briefly wonders if you could come just from one finger alone. but the way you’re moaning at his actions paired with the sight of you has him so painfully hard that that will have to be a theory to test out next time. at the moment he’s overwhelmed by how much he needs to be inside of you, needs to mold your insides to fit the shape of his cock.

“gonna add another now,” he informs you as he stretches your hole to fit two of his fingers. suddenly you arch off the bed, eyes wide. “sunghoon- hoonie- gonna…if you keep going i’ll-”

“shh baby, sunghoonie’s got you. just let go for me pretty girl.” he continues moving his digits expertly, rubbing your clit with his thumb. you look gorgeous as you reach your orgasm, eyes screwn shut, fists grasping at the bedsheets, your mouth open and letting out the prettiest noise he’s heard from you yet. “there you go, sweetheart. so pretty for me. my good girl.”

he lets you come down from the wave of pleasure before pulling out his fingers. he makes a split-second decision and holds his hand up in front of your face. you blink up at him in question and it makes you look so cute and innocent again, even though he just made you come on his fingers and is about to shove them down your throat. “why don’t you clean my fingers off nice and good for me, sweetheart?”

you’re so obedient in your post-orgasm daze, immediately opening up your mouth and sucking in his fingers so sweetly. he presses down on your tongue and pretty tears spring up in your eyes again as you gag. his self control is wearing extremely thin at this point, he needs to make you cry on his cock right now.

he pulls away and takes off his underwear in one swift motion. “gonna fuck you now, pretty girl.” he rasps out, his own voice straining from how aroused he is. “gonna make you mine.” he rubs his cock between your folds and it has you both gasping from the sensation.

“wait,” you start. he raises an eyebrow, but continues moving. “sunghoonie wait. shouldn’t we use a condom?” and it’s cute. cute how responsible you still manage to be in a situation like this. but he needs you to be his in every way possible. “baby it’s gonna feel so much better without one. don’t you want to feel good?” his tip catches on your hole as he moves it between your slit again, and he pushes in. “besides, you’re on the pill right?” he has half a mind to hope you won’t question why he knows that information, but from the way your hands are pulling at him to move closer, he gathers you’re probably too far gone by now.

“hurts,” you whine as he slowly drags his cock along your walls, pushing in a little further with each stroke. “i know it hurts, pretty girl, but it’s never gonna fit otherwise.” your eyes are watering again, and something in him just snaps. his thrusts become harsher as he speeds up, reveling in the tears that now run down your face at the sensation.

“taking me so well, baby. it’s gonna feel good soon, sunghoonie promises.” your hands are clawing at his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself. your voice sounds broken at this point as you lose yourself in the pleasure, and it’s beyond what he’d imagined. but fuck, sunghoon is a greedy man and he needs more.

your eyes fly open in shock as he loosely wraps a hand around your neck, effectively covering the bruises he’d left there earlier. your hands come up to grab his wrist, but you don’t push him away. interesting. you truly are exactly what he was hoping for, all his to ruin forever. “love this don’t you, sweetheart?” he makes sure to keep eye contact with you, hovering over you as he takes in just how much power he has over you right now. “gonna make you my perfect little slut. all mine. all for me.”

he doesn’t apply pressure with his hand, it is your first time after all, but he lets it sit there, lets you get used to the weight of it. and you look so pretty, laid out on your own bed for him in the most sinful way, with your bra still on, but his cock moving in and out of your tight little hole. exactly how he’s wanted you from the beginning.

“please hoonie… i’m yours. all yours.” he’s close to coming too, and you’re not making it easy on him by sounding so pretty. still, he is a gentleman and wants you to come first. he brings his hand down between you again and finds your clit with his fingers. it only takes him a few more strokes before you’re moaning brokenly, eyes squeezing shut as you orgasm once more. he looks down to where you are connected and the sight of you coming around his cock, so tight and so wet is enough to make him come too. he rides out his own high then carefully pulls out.

fuck. this is why he needed to fuck you raw. the sight of his cum mixed with yours spilling out of you is almost enough to get him hard again, and his head spins a little with the rush. he’ll have to buy you a plug someday, this shouldn’t be going to waste like that. but that can wait. right now he’s concerned with taking care of you.

he is quick to wipe the tears off your face. your pretty is makeup ruined in the best way possible. “it’s okay baby. did so well for me, pretty girl. all mine, huh? my little slut?”

#✧˖°. hoon1sm library 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹#enha smut #enha imagines #enha x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon smut #sunghoon scenarios #enhypen smut

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threegoldfish · 3 days ago

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He's earned it, the bed with the view - that's what Harrow says. Does Marc think he's earned it? No, not at all. Part of him actually wants to pull back immediately, to go to another bed, take one that's the furthest away from that damn window, just because of his mind being stubbornly focused on the fact that he does not deserve anything - he may ask for a thing, and if he's lucky, he's granted said thing.

But he stays where he is, next to Harrow, by that bed with the window. Swallows. Glances up at the camera when the other points at it - yeah, alright, he gets that one. Would be odd to leave patients here without being able to monitor them - to see when they try to pull some bullshit, hurt themselves or others, or... well, attempt to leave. A sigh through parted lips, dark eyes back on the bed...

"...Okay." A nod, voice quiet; There's not much to say for him, not anymore, as Marc decides to take a seat on the mattress; It's firm but soft at the same time, quite comfortable, despite it all. Not that he's big on such things, he's able to sleep almost anywhere, thanks to having been put in the field for quite a while...

But, honestly, it's nice to not be forced to rest on a damn rock for once. Or on top of hot sand. Or on one of those cheap cots where the springs are drilling into his back, pushing through the thin sheet of questionable fabric. Or a bunk bed, for the matter, with someone resting above, one needing to be afraid of the whole thing crashing down at night...

Swallowing again, Marc pushes off his shoes, then lifts his leg onto the bed. Moves the pillow up a bit so he can lie down in a bit of a more upright position. Holds onto the towel as he does, brings it up to his face again to dab away some sweat that's forming on his forehead - and the doctor stays for a bit, as promised, to which Marc feels a bit awkward at first but then...

...Then it's actually okay, to just exist around another, in silence that feels less uncomfortable than expected. He is looking out of that window as much as he can, taking in the sight of that garden, the grey sky, a few birds that fly around every now and then. How much time passes, Marc has no idea... but his eyes turn heavy after a while and he sinks further into the mattress, folds his hands on top of his lower stomach, breathes, just in- and exhales through the throbbing pain at his temple, his nose, his lip...

When Steven awakes, he's surrounded by a warm blanket, his head resting on what feels heavenly soft and plush; He blinks his eyes open, needs a second to even get a clear image forming in front of his eyes - stretches his legs, yawns---

---Only to then realize that his nose is hurting, and that it's very much swollen shut, making it hard to breathe. That is --- that is new to him, very, and immediate shock starts to flood the whole of his existence as he sits upright in a way too quick motion, making him feel dizzy there, has him lift a hand and press it to the plane of his forehead as eyes squeeze shut for a second.

"What... what the bloody hell---" Oof, that's a headache he's having, yeah, and... and why is his nose... ---A tentative touch with his fingertips, the response of his body very much obvious, the bridge of said nose very sore to the touch, a bandaid-sort-of-thing sticking on top of it. Steven blinks his eyes back open, confused, whips his head this and that way---

There's a window by his side, it's dark out, means it must either be really late or really early. The room he's existing within is lit, yeah, but sparsely; A small light on a bedside table next to him offers an almost comfortable glow of yellow, there's more beds by his side - all of them empty - and when Steven looks over to what's in front of him, he spots a desk...

This is not his room, right? No, this is not the room he'd been assigned to, not the same bed, nor the same surroundings. Where is he, and... why is he here?! The last thing he remembers is having gone to bed one evening, and--- and now he's here. He's here, he's injured, and when Steven looks down along his own form, he spots all of those crimson spots on his white sweatshirt...

---Blood. Oh, oh god, oh--- oh, this is blood, no? Yeah, it--- it is, this is blood! Oh no, what... what did he do?! Shit, has he been... oh god, has he been sleep-walking, gotten into trouble, injured himself---

Now suffering from a full-blown panic attack, Steven begins to gasp for air, presses a palm to his chest as his frantic gaze flicks all over the place. His heart is racing and he's muttering "No, no, no"'s under his breath, body trembling; He thinks he can see someone sitting at that desk over there, maybe that's someone who can help---

"H-hello? H-hey, can you--- can you hear me? I-I'm--- I dunno where I am, can you... o-oh god, I think I'm... I think I'm having a panic attack---"

It's not Steven's first, so he knows what it feels like - it reminds him of the first times he'd awoken at random places, unable to remember anything, unsure what's happening; He's long since figured out his sleep-walking habits, but... but this is different, because he's in a psych ward and doctor Harrow knows about his condition, and he's here anyways, and he's injured, and it means something really bad must have happened---

Tears appear within the corners of his eyes, immediately roll over reddened cheeks, he just cannot stop them from coming...

"P-please, can you h-help me...?"

Arthur followed Marc’s glance toward the beds, nodding slow and steady. “She did,” he confirmed. “And I’d say you’ve earned the one with the view.”

The views here were rare - something Marc had commented on multiple times - and Arthur could probably get some plants for this room, too. It was almost constantly monitored, or people just felt sick enough to not do anything stupid - surely a plant would be fine in here, too. Maybe a few, for the too-many corners in the oddly shaped room.

He stood with a quiet breath, careful again of his bad leg. There was no rush here, just a quiet fluidity as he walked off toward one of the cabinets - opening it up, pulling out one of the thick blankets. Again, it was blue, with the hospital’s logo embroidered on the corner; but it was big and soft, good for whatever Marc might want it for. He placed it on the bed, just leaving it at the end, so Marc could use it however he wanted.

“I’ll let her know you’ve picked one,” he promised. “She’ll be happy to know you’re resting. And I’ll stay just a bit longer, if you don’t mind - no pressure.” He wasn’t worried about Marc trying to escape, just because it was almost impossible. None of the doors opened from the inside, without a card scan - and there wasn’t much of anything that Marc could do with the things inside. Nothing that would help him have an upper hand, at least - if Marc wanted to try and fight the nurse, he wouldn’t need a weapon.

There wasn’t much of anything he could hurt himself with - and that was Arthur’s biggest concern.

“There is a camera here,” Arthur informed, just to get the point across that Marc wouldn’t be able to try anything - without actually saying it directly. He pointed up into the top corner, just pointing out where the camera was; it was small, pointed at the beds, though it could see the whole room. “And there’s a phone over there, on her desk.” Wireless, of course.

“If you need me, you can call me at 42-89. Okay? Just pick up the phone, type in '4-2-8-9', and it'll connect. If I’m not at my desk, it goes to one of the nurses, and she calls me on the radio to let me know.”

It seemed important to have that branch there, for one reason or another - if Marc felt threatened or uncomfortable, he could ask to call Arthur. Hopefully that was enough to make reaching out a first choice, in the event of something going wrong.

#preemptivejustice #threads & interactions; marc spector #threads & interactions; steven grant #(ohmygosh poor steven ;; hes so unlucky)

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virelaisnox · 13 hours ago

Text

Twice Loved, Once Cursed

Summary : Sacred, yet despicable. You were the lover who was lost in the long night, a night that continues to live in every beat of time that has followed him until now.

She is the symbol of a broken promise, a protection that has failed to be kept.

Previously, her body was tied to a stake, burned alive on accusations of being loyal to dark powers.

A blood-sucking devil—a creature of the night who destroyed cities, who stole and tore apart mercilessly.

Now, that same soul returns —born in the body of a holy, pure, and untouchable person.

And for the second time... he came bringing a fate that could not be avoided.

Warning : Dark religious imagery & spiritual conflict, themes of death, burning at the stake, and reincarnation, forbidden romance & morally complex relationships, power imbalance & emotional manipulation, mild sensuality. Pairing: Remmick x Fem!Reader

⚠️MINOR DO NOT INTERACT⚠️

[Chapter 2]

The creaking of the front door opening made you cringe and send shivers straight to the back of your neck. “Keep quiet. You can’t sleep on the couch. My father will be back soon.” You said in a tone that is so low, almost like a whisper trying to make your arrival unknown. Stepping lightly into the entrance of your house, crossing the sacred threshold that spiritually visited and under the sprigs of overhanging palm trees your movements were hurried as you took off your robe, set down your weapons to where it was usually kept, and the rest of your belongings. You didn’t light the firewood. No, you have to keep it discreet. Since you have no other sensible excuse to reason with your father because the groceries you had bought were scattered around the ground somewhere near the cotton field—you're supposed to make it seem as if you have never left the house.

The lack of response from the man behind you made you wonder and turned,

"Why are you still there?"

He took a breath in as if preparing what he's going to say next. “ —W-well, you didn’t invite me in,” He almost seems like he could trip over his own words, as if he tries his best to sound very convincing when he doesn't need to.

“It's rude to enter someone’s house uninvited, ya know?” He added, with a stiff laugh after. Odd. It is not that you did not appreciate the politeness of a guess. But, I mean, we are already all the way down here—why does he need another invitation from me?

“Oh you need that? why?”

As your question lingered in the air, he began to appear very frustrated, restless. He scratched the back of his head, and his eyes never seemed to meet yours. Avoiding.

You’d wait, yes, of course. After all, we have all the time in the world until Dad gets back, right? Therefore, with no further ado you chose to follow his need to be such a civilized person at just the right fuckin’ time.

“Alright, come the fuck in then.”

His grin spreads wide, seeming almost devilish and proud, as if he had just won a lottery when he stepped inside with a wide smirk plastered on his face.

“Quite a mouth you have there..” The man said.

Something else suddenly clicked in your brain, yet another one of the many to prove that this man was, in fact, who you’d wished him not to be. Nevertheless, you kept your mouth sealed.

“Poor little unfortunate soul had welcomed the grim reaper himself inside her house..” The spirits whispered.

“Here, clean yourself first ‘fore my father comes back.” You tossed him toiletries and clean clothes, a sleeveless shirt and pants that reached below his knees. Borrowed from your Father's.

“You've got to be in my room immediately. He’ll kill me if he finds out I brought a stranger home.” Your tone was assertive, carrying an undertone warning. — “Oh, don’t say that, we ain’t no strangers, eh?” His tone conveyed light-heartedness.

“Yes, we still are. What are ya talkin’ about? I don’t know you, you don’t know me. Far as I know we are strangers.” You turned your back at him.

You could hear him shrug, yet another tease fullness noted in his voice. “you’re in such a hurry to get me in your room?” his voice was low and gravelly. You could feel his piercing gaze even with your back turn to him.

“I don’t speak nonsense, now better get you ass cleaned up ‘fore i change my mind and tell you to get the fuck out my house.” He only returns your scolding with a pleased grin, as if he found satisfaction in riling you up.

†

After a few minutes, the man stepped out of the stall washed up. And by the Mother of God, you didn't realize your mouth was almost watering at the sight. How could you not? After all, no tale of yours has ever included a man setting foot inside your home—your father, God resting him, would’ve drawn his gun before the poor soul even took his next breath. It was hard to deny, his body, that was not completely dry, glistening under the dim white light making his lines and muscles stand out, toned and lean. His biceps contracted with each movement made as if to show off their glory. The v-line that disappeared under the towel wrapped around his waist made your mind wander wild, further than any good Catholic girl supposed to.

As luck would have it, again, he noticed. You quickly snapped out of your daydream. He saw how your eyes wandered across his bare body, the way you swallowed hard, how your legs trembled and pressed together in the mere sight of him.

“Like what you see, lil’ miss?” Goddamn right, i do.

He walked closer, his steps were certain and purposeful, like a wild animal eyeing its prey, his gaze piercing cold to your bones.

“I’m goddamn sure you crave more than you are afraid o’ me, lil’ missy..” He coos, his lips were moist, teasing the tender flesh on your earlobe, the kind of touch he reckon will make your body give out.

“Ey, didn’t i give ya clothes?” Your attempt to change the subject came to no fruition.

The space between you was scarcely more than a breath—too near to dismiss, yet just far enough to remain untouchable. One wrong move, and you'd find yourself entangled in something you couldn’t undo. After all, he was still a stranger, and you knew nothing of what he might be capable of if provoked.

“Oh, yes, yes you did—but I bet you’d prefer me without ‘em” He replied with a smirk, leaving you speechless. These feelings are truly mingled and overwhelming your reason—He was the demon who had charmed his way into the easily swayed hearts of mankind—and somehow, he had slithered his way into yours. But what was it that he truly wanted? What was he scheming behind those eyes that gleamed with too much knowing? As far as you knew, his kind never asked for permission. By his kind, specifically, those whites. They took. They plundered. That was their nature, but for whatever reason—spirits whisper different tales of this man—in his silence, there was something soft and suffocating about him. As if he knows your body can be owned, but your soul must be invited.

His gaze penetrated beyond the naked eye. He read you like the sacred pages of an ancient book that had almost been washed away by time. There was something deeper in his gaze beyond what you could ever know. It was as if he knew you more than you knew yourself.

“We've met before?” You asked once again, only to be certain. It is quite preposterous for two strangers to meet, and such as spider webs, they knead into each other.

“I don’t know—have we?” The question flew right back at you. His gaze filled with sorrow, regret, and longing. Your hands came up to caress his face with tenderness that almost brought tears to his eyes. The sight moved you to witness such a beast being unguarded, like a wound that had learned to stop bleeding. “Why are you crying?” You'd ask in a whispery tone. Your hands that were framing his face made him pull his gaze back at you. But instead of answering you, quiet sobs escaped him, barely audible, unable to contain the feelings that overflowed. Longing. Yearning.

All at once, the air around him transformed into the haunting refrain of a melancholic song, heavy with unspoken sorrow—Remmick despised this situation, as a man and a full-fledged threat like him, he appeared incredibly weak with tears that began to run down and dampened his cheeks.

“Oh, no, you poor darlin’ come here…”

With a quiet pull, you wrapped him in your warmth, allowing his heart to speak where his lips could not

“You’re safe now…” you whispered, though the words felt foreign in your own mouth. Strange, how you’d become the anchor when you were the one still adrift. He buried his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel your skin starting to get wet from his tears. He sobbed softly against you.

“It’s alright, darlin’... you must be exhausted…” The loving nickname easily slipped past your lips, as if it was second nature to you. He then replied with a nod.

“Have you…eaten yet—are you hungry?” Your voice a low hum. You certainly didn't know any better with the question you just inquired him with, thus, he replied with a crooked smile;

“Oh, i have more than enough…”

He looked you over with a slow, deliberate gaze—something in it set your nerves on edge.

“Aight’ in you go, sir.” Your movement was graceful as you led him by the hand towards the entryway of your bedroom. You felt his fingers twitch in your grip. He then obliged so without question, unclothed, unapologetic. His shy steps were tailing you from behind, resembling a puppy.

The door shut softly behind you. Your eyes flicked across the room, searching for any place he could rest. He cleared his throat,

“I could sleep on the floor—anywhere, really. You don't need to trouble yourself.” At his words, you turn to face him.

“No—I don't think so, no.”

He came up yet with another clever remark;

“It's fine, y'know, it's your house, your rules—”

You cut him off before he had the chance to run his mouth any further, “You right—my house, my rules.” Not another word spilled from his mouth, he just stood there and stared at you.

Suddenly, a foolish and irrational decision formed—yet, you were clearly aware of it. “We share, yeah? Just... leave me a little space to breathe—don’t take over the whole bed.” Your tone carried a hint of playfulness. He met it with a shrug, as if silently agreeing. “I'll be right back.” His eyes were practically glued to you, following, until your figure disappeared behind the slowly closing door.

†

Matthew 22:39

“And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

-`♡´-

The land breeze swept across the exposed skin on your back from the opened window, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The reflection of a girl across the silver oracle, was unblinking, staring back with a wavering gaze. You have vowed your unbroken promise before God for he is the one who owned you body and soul, your deepest, darkest secrets and desires was nothing left behind the veil, laid bare before the all-knowing. Your father wouldn't want more than for you to find yourself a man who is kind, loving, and catholic. Yet, here you are, the daughter of this town's sermon-weaver dressed in nothing but a piece of white—draped in silk. The length of the gown itself couldn't quite reach above the knee, laced underneath with a color that matched the wings of an angel.

You turned and clicked open the door handle, only to be met with the sight of the man lying peacefully, eyes sealed and relaxed, as if he had finally found a home, safe enough for him to rest, unharmed. Your steps approaching and your presence didn't go unnoticed. His eyes slowly fluttered open. The lighting in your room is always a shade too bright, though. His eyes always appeared darker than most, lifeless and empty, but now there is something otherworldly reflecting on his gaze. He watched you, then eased himself to the side—a silent invitation, the kind that didn’t need words. Your body landed softly at the edge of the bed with a soft thud.

“I didn't quite catch yer name, Sir.” You spoke softly. He was a breath away from doubt before he opened his mouth, at last, “Remmick. Name’s Remmick.” The man spoke, and I offered him a warm smile.

“Nice to meetcha’, my name is—” His interruption cuts you off before the first letter of your name even gets the chance to leave your lips.

“No. I don't need to know your name.” weird. But, probably better off staying that way.

“Alright, Remmick, whatever suits you.” You gave him a playful wink, a mischievous smile curling at your lips, enough to keep his gaze fixed.

It didn't escape your attention, how the light in your room made him feel uneasy—the way he frowned, squinted, and deflected as though was trying to dodge the radiance spilling from above.

Your arms slowly reached for the switch—the lights went off, and the room stilled in darkness. “Better?”

His smile bloomed as he nodded, clearly pleased,

“Yeah, better.”

The memories of the state he was in when you first saw him, somehow swims back up into the surface—brought back by the darkness that carries heavy secrets the spirits haven't told you about. The sharp crescent of his teeth, the eyes that glows crimson, although, that could be your mind pulling wild tricks on you. You weren't sure, you hoped it to be fully mistaken and proved faulty.

Somehow, you felt your body moved on its own, drawn, you found yourself lying quietly at his side. He shifted, subtly, gaze meeting yours—eyes wandering slow as if soaking up every edge and corner of your face and immortalized the sight of you for eternity. His fingers trembled as he found himself longing to feel you—then went completely boneless when you suddenly pulled his hand closer to your mouth, raining it with kisses. His breathing grows unsteady, eyes closing, sinking in the warmth of your lips.

“Yeah.. yeah.. you sure is. You sure is she..”

“Who?”

“Don't worry ‘bout it, don't you worry about a goddamn thing no more, sweetheart, I'm here.. I won't ever let ya go, no more.” His voice raspy, tone's unyielding as he whispered it against your skin like a silent prayer, sealed with his lips pressed to your wrist where your pulse fluttered.

“Why are you so cold?” You asked, eyes glinting with a flicker of light in the darkness.

A silence lingered in the air as he left you longing for his next words. “—I don't belong to this world no more, sweetheart.” He answered, spoken in a casual tone. You simply nodded, unwilling to press him for more. The night grew warmer, though he remained cold to the touch.

You leaned your head where his heart should've beaten—yet it was quiet. There was no sound, save for your own breathing. His arms found their way to you, encircling you—folding you into a different world of comfort you never knew could exist. You felt yourself grow weary, lids heavy—the Lord's prayer spilled past your lips. Your voice was low, faint against his chest. At that moment, your prayer was a quiet act of resilience—at once a plea, a hope that God might be willing to redeem this man and love him whole.

“Our Father, who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name,

thy kingdom come,

thy will be done,

on earth as it is in heaven,

Nobody disrupts you, he leaves you reciting the Lord’s Prayer to a God who might have long abandoned you both. You had just come aware—after halfway through a prayer, there was another voice whispering the words alongside you, in perfect unison.

“—Give us this day our daily bread. (Give us this day our daily bread)

And forgive us our trespasses, (And forgive us our trespasses,)

as we forgive those who trespass against us. (as we forgive those who trespass against us.)

And lead us not into temptation, (And lead us not into temptation,)

but deliver us from evil. (but deliver us from evil.)

For thine is the kingdom, (for thine is the kingdom)

and the power, and the glory, (and the power, and the glory,)

for ever and ever. Amen.” (for ever and ever. Amen.)

“Amen..”

Before you drift into a deep slumber, he cups your face and catches your lips in a kiss filled with intimacy, slow yet certain, his kiss almost rewarding—the world seemed to pause for a moment just for the sake of you both. His kiss was a promise, unwritten yet delivered. His petal-cold lips made a trace of wet trails along your neck, like a prayer casted to a living altar, your body—a temple where he kneel, worship, and plead. Your bodies intertwined in a melody that could only be understood by silence and desire. Like an instrument, he picked your strings in an unmatched balance, heaved, and created a choir of heaven. Your bodies danced to precise rhymes—he - the artist, you were the muse. He was a musician, and you were the instrument. You were the lyrics. He was the tune. A fair trade. He leads this dance and lets you pick the song.

A breath that linked to a wild melody, chasing one after another, like wind that blows dandelions in a wild field. His movement was heavy and edged with a rush, like a wild cat hunting down its prey. Too fast, you had to remind him with a firm grip on his hair.

“Hey. Easy, beasty,”

He stared at you and nodded. A flash of guilt evident in his eyes. He kissed your shoulder as a form of apology that seemed too sincere for your own good. As if he was truly concerned for you.

Your smile was welcoming and inviting him to continue his ministration. His kiss grew bolder and purposeful, mapping down your body, trailing below your stomach. At that very moment, the whole world somehow stopped and stared, the deed of two sinners was occurring at the small, heated, oak wood room. As his movement grows urgent, you, on the other hand—grow nervous and anxious once you feel his hands halfway sliding off your laced knickers. He stopped and stared, waiting for you to give him a ‘go’. Your breath came out a shudder, he noticed. His hand reaches yours and gives it a gentle squeeze, reassuring. He kissed the wrist where your pulse is beating.

“Trust me,” He said, almost in a whispering tone.

To be frank, at this given moment, you weren't even sure if you could trust yourself. Yet, something in his eyes speaks aloud more than words ever could. There's a deeper meaning behind those gaze. That once upon a lifetime, you could read it clear as day, with ease, like how you read a Bible my father gifted me.

“I- I haven't—” You couldn’t finish your sentence. If speaking logically, there was nothing to be ashamed of, you couldn’t help yourself but feel so. The self-image of being a Preacher's daughter already comes naturally, from when people were starting to learn you by name and background. They'd expect nothing but a woman who celibate. A holy virgin.

There wasn't a hint of mockery coming from him, not one bit, never. Only the same familiar look he had been giving you from the beginning. You were hesitant, though something in the air tells you to trust him. It was likely the whispers of demons. Tempting you into sin. Thus, you nodded, blessing him with your approval. The rest of the fabric lacing you underneath was peeled off easily by his skillful hand.

Your spine instinctively arched at the feel of something moist and forked—splitted in half. Exploring free along your impatiently waiting bundle of nerves below. The motion was repeating, yet somehow variative enough to send you over heaven to hell. Eden to earth. He slowly brought his fingers toward his mouth, wrapping it around his lips—you almost moaned at the sight of him practically making out with his own two fingers that made you wish it had been you. The mischievous grin that was so distinctively his returned—before you felt his fingers slipped and pushed open the pearly gates underneath. Your jaw slack open, eyes shot wide, you couldn't tell why this man owned some kind of claws—pumping in-and-out of you and making your spine arched.

“Remmick.” You called out.

“Remmick..” The sound of his name spilled past your lips, making him tongue-tied.

“Remmick..” Your voice low. He turned his attention quickly to you, like a puppy whose favorite word had been uttered

“Yes.. what do you need?”

“I- I can't.. I can't..” You whined.

“Yes you can… you can do it for me…" Say it..” he coaxed, which now sounded more like a demand, not a request.

“Come on, who's the good girl..? Say you can finish it for me.” There is a softer edge to his tone this time.

Remmick was a restless, sleepless creature. His stamina was not bound by limit. Despite being the one who had to catch up with his pace. You still feel the need to prove that you were the one he needed, that you were perfect for him, that you were just as he expected.

Curses that spilled past your lips sync in tune along his. He groaned and sent vibration straight into the center of your need. Your body squirmed—the sheets on your bed were all wrinkled. Remmick consumed you whole like a man possessed, dying of thirst, and you were the springs, an antidote to a deadly disease which his soul. He sips it clean, drowns, and is drunk in your love liquor. He gasped, rushed in urgency to drink you down.

Despite the roller-coaster you were put into, you still spare a glance to see how he's being.

The beast mourned you like you were his last meal. He devoured and weeped for you as though he greets you a goodbye, a farewell of which hadn't yet to come. Well, shit! It couldn't be that good, could it?

Your body arched like a bow shoots freely, fingers’ gripping the sheets as if trying to find something to hold onto whilst the world around you collapses in euphoric waves. Your voice was a holy whisper free from the altar, muffled and holy, chanting his name like a prayer you've learned as easy as breathing—and as you are nothing without it.

He stays there, movements growing weary and slow, and he finally learned how to take his time, absorbing the final offering.

And once the storms calmed, the world slowly returned. The pounding of your heart, the sound of your breath, the night humming. He crawled beside you, his face looking like an ancient secret which you have unlocked, no words needed, only a gaze that speaks, and gentle wrapped around your waist. A peaceful silence stretched. It was not an empty silence. But silence that filled with meaning and bond. And you know, even in this state of tiresome, you didn’t feel empty. On the contrary, for the first time in your life, you felt found.

Found.

You exhaled out a breath, like the first breath the earth blows when dawn comes. His hands stroked your your dark-silken locs with such gentleness, tucking them behind your ears. An appreciation formed in a kiss landed on your temple before he started speaking.

“You alright?” he asked, which you replied with a nod.

“Yes, I'm - I'm fine..” Still with the same pace of your heart pumping and your pulse thrumming. You were standing on a thin line between needing to ask or just leave the curiosity unanswered. You'd choose the second option in a heartbeat had it been someone else. But, it's him. A man who had just given you a piece of heaven.

“Rem..” A beat falls after. He responded, with a slow turn of his head. “Yeah, princess..?”

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Depends. But, ask away.”

“I saw you cry, you know? Why is that—somethingyou wanna tell me?” he stared back at you with a plain gaze, as if he was some kind of innocent creature, like he wasn't the one behind all those deaths and havoc—succeeded to make it to the newspaper.

You felt a wave of possession washes over you. No. Scratch that question.

“No. Tell me. You better tell me. Why did you cry? Something the matter?” My tone thick with urgency—forcing the answer out of him.

“..it was nothing, just—just that you kinda reminded me of someone from the past.” Your gaze automatically dropped to the eye-catching, sparkly golden object, enlacing his ring finger. The ring appeared too ancient. Too old. An untold history wrapped in gold. The kind of gold that costs an undying oath until death does its part.

There was a comforting silence lingered that none of you need to fill, but you spoke up anyway.

“Was it your lover? Your family?” you asked, your question linked to his last statement.

“She was.. she was both at the time.” He answered, tone sorrowful.

“Oh you poor baby..” Your voice was a melody to his ear. “No, it's fine. I already made peace with it.”

He was the kind of man who viewed kindness and affection as something that came with a price. And he doesn't have enough to pay. Something rough and merciless acts were the only ones he had grown too familiar with.

You could tell, from the moment that feeling touched him as a feather-light touch, he always seemed to force you away. Though as much as he craved for you—he didn't seem to quite let you in, like when you invited him inside tonight.

“Baby, don't be like that..”

“I'm not being like anything, darlin’” his words defensive.

“You're being distant. Yes, we are just two strangers who met in a not very promising circumstances. But, please.. don't push me away..” you had hoped that it would somehow soften his heart. Your tone pitiful, pleading to him. “You may call me naive but.. I care for you..”

A mockery laugh escapes his throat,

“what—cause you is a good Christian girl? Thy shall love thy neighbor as thyself. I'm no neighbor of yours, you know that.” as if the sky is falling onto me, his revelations had my heart dropped. With the way he casually quoted the Mosaic Law, he touched you without laying a hand on you. He sounded better saying it, beats your father. The pastor himself.

“No, it isn't like that.. I..” you rubbed your face in frustration.

“I love you.. more than what the Bible told me too.. more than I'm allowed.. I love you like.. I was a part of you.. men to women, women to men.” He considered your words for a moment before speaking up again, decided to give it a playful twist.

“Lust?”

“Oh God, you seriously think that lowly of me?” you swing your fist, only landed as a light punch to him, he groaned, as if the punch affected him in one bit, then chuckled.

“God ain't here darling, just me an’ you..” with that, you leave him without a choice and give him your name. And you thank the heavens, your father must've been kept up the night, and probably went home by the dawn.

That night, the moon was a silver, a hole of light. Wind breezed in past the halfway closed window, sorrowful, as if heaven turned her face from you and another gate opened—with an entryway burning like amber.

#sinners remmick #remmick sinners #sinners 2025 #remmick x reader #jack o'connell #sinners fanfiction

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00lunect · 11 hours ago

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★JD with Braces: Take 4★

Translation (because text bubbles are awful. Sorry, guys):

Clay: You're going to brush your teeth really well after this, you hear me, John?

JD: Mhm…

Clay: And you'll do it well. For 5 minutes. With mouthwash and everything. Branch already got everything the dentist recommended, and we'll make sure you use it.

JD: Okay…

Clay: You'll also stay in the Bunker and get proper rest. No camping with Rhonda.

JD: Yeh…

Clay: *Sigh* Does it still hurt that much?

JD: It's awful…

Clay: Do you want anything else?

JD: Can I have more ice cream…?

Clay: Okay, I'll tell Bruce to get you some more, but not too much. You don't need a stomach ache too.

JD: Thanks, Clay…

So, I think I love JD with braces now. (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠). I wanted to do a different, unrelated drawing to post, but this scene popped into my head, and, well, since most of this whole thing is doodles and I don't really have to put much effort into getting it right (plus I have to shade the other drawing, which I'm lazier about because it has more detail), I started doing this yesterday and just finished it.

I don't know about you, but I think it's really fun to make JD suffer and look pathetic in the process. XD So much so that in the end, Clay decided that yes, John did in fact deserve some ice cream after so much suffering around his mouth, so he allowed his brothers to get him some because it was sad to see that old man moaning on the couch when he got home and nothing was done about it.

…And by "some ice cream," I mean a whole tub, because John Dory definitely needed a lot of comfort after the dentist delivered the coup de grâce with the installation of his new braces. (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^). It might not have been a very healthy thing to give John that much ice cream, but he had been through hell the past few weeks, so his brothers considered that this could be his reward for surviving and managing to keep his teeth intact despite everything. But of course, the brothers wouldn't be so forgiving after this moment. They would spoil John a lot, of course, but they would also make sure that he continued to take care of his teeth religiously. Especially Clay. Clay would be particularly strict with John about his oral hygiene and would force him to do even things he didn't like to take care of his brother.

And John would just go along with it because, what else could he do? Everything would hurt, even his nails, just from those stupid braces, so he'd be very calm and meek for a while while he got used to them, accepting anything as long as he didn't have to exert himself too much because even using his brain for anything other than processing the pain in his face would be exhausting. At that point, all he'd want to do is stuff himself with all the ice cream he could fit in his stomach, brush his teeth like Clay told him, and try to take a nap.

So, well, all his brothers let him. Clay too because even though his older brother drives him crazy sometimes with his stupidity, he can't really get too mad at him. Not after everything they've been through and after 20 years of not seeing him, so his treatment of John is something like "you deserve what you get, idiot," with Clay himself being the first to help him go to bed whenever he wants to sleep.

I don't know, but I really like that characterization of some characters who are grumpy and really hard on you when you do something wrong and stupid, but at the same time make sure you're okay and are all sweet and protective while you recover, even though they have a sour face in the process. (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠). I think Clay would be a lot like that. And Branch too. Both are harsh words, but sweet actions.

But anyway, I hope you liked this new doodle! ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧. And by the way, this is the first time I've drawn Clay and his messy hair. At first I wasn't really sure how to do it without too much detail, but I think I achieved something nice. And he looks so cute! (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+.

I also had a little doubt when I was doing his eyes, I didn't know what color to make them. What color exactly are the brothers' eyes? I know Branch has blue eyes and John Dory something similar, but I was trying to visualize the other brothers' eyes and it's very difficult without a very clear image, so in the end I made Clay green eyes. Maybe I'll change that in the future if I find out his real eye color, but for now, I'll leave it at that.

And if you were curious, the ice cream John Dory is eating is chocolate and the shirt he's wearing says "My mouth ✨hurts✨". I was too lazy to make his vest this time, plus I figured he should wear something more comfortable than just a jacket. He's just really tired at this point. ಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠ಡ. Also, and this is probably not a huge deal, but the spoon is wooden. It was originally going to be metal, but I thought about it a bit and realized that the feeling of metal against metal in your mouth shouldn't be very pleasant. :/ Especially if that metal is on your teeth. I think it would be really uncomfortable, although those who have or are wearing braces will tell me that.

Here are the Take 1, Take 2, and Take 3, in case you want to know the origin of JD with Braces.

Thanks for reading!

#art #dreamworks trolls #original art #pop trolls #doodle #headcanon #trolls john dory #john dory #braces #trolls clay #clay #Braces JD AU

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ninja-confession-go · 2 days ago

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I genuinely don’t think the ninja deserved what Wu did to them at the beginning of season 11 the fire chapter. On paper, the idea that the ninja have gotten lazy isn’t necessarily a bad idea, but I think the execution is muddled and just sends some really bad messaging.

(I should clarify, I don’t necessarily hate Wu, I actually do like him in the majority of the show, but I do have issues with him in this specific season. Also this will be super long so prepare yourself)

Like, it starts off with the ninja playing video games and going in the hot tub which are like, normal things for teenagers/young adults to do? ESPECIALLY considering that they make a huge point of the fact that there is such little crime happening that the actual prisoners are getting therapy and healthy coping mechanisms. And this has been going on for months. So they have no actual obligations or responsibilities to do anything, and they’re taking a well deserved break, I think that’s more than reasonable.

And yes, you could argue that they’re making a mess, but Wu doesn’t actually criticize them about that. Instead, he calls them lazy and soft for not training, which is arguably still mildly understandable considering they are the protectors of the city.

My problem isn’t Wu disciplining them, it’s the WAY he does it.

After lining them up and insulting them, he locks them alone in a room with a death chicken who he knows has killed before, KNOWING FULL WELL THAT THE NINJA HAVE NOT TRAINED IN MONTHS. And then he’s still upset with them after they trap it back in the box while they’re visibly battered. Yes I know it was meant to be a joke, but it’s still a shitty thing to do for essentially no reason. There was still a real possibility they could’ve died.

So his problem is that they’ve lost their sharpness, fair enough. I feel like it would be reasonable to maybe implement a more regular training routine to build back up their skill, and I also think them playing video games and going in the hot tub from time to time is also fine. There should be a healthy balance, right?

This guy decides that, no, he won’t just implement a schedule like a normal mentor/teacher would. He’s going to actually fucking terrorize them for doing ANYTHING remotely recreational. Cole getting a midnight snack, he falls through a trap door. Zane playing video games, he gets catapulted into the fucking roof. And this is my favorite (/neg): Nya sleeping?? At night?? Wu balances her bed on an insanely high and unstable peak to where she could easily fall to her death. I feel I shouldn’t have to say that this is NOT HOW YOU MENTOR. Not only is it framing anything recreational as horrendous and deserving of almost dying, but also the fact that this is treated like a joke. I get that he wants them to always be ready, but they can’t be ready if they’re traumatized and almost die for doing nothing wrong.

And all this, combined with him beating them up (which I’m not even getting into right now), leads the Ninja to seek out a quest to sharpen their skills. Makes sense, and it’s what he wanted from them, right? So Lloyd asks Wu about where to seek out quests, and he gets mad at him?? Mf, you’ve literally spent this whole time terrorizing these guys and then you get mad when they ask for help to do the thing you wanted them to do?? You’re their MENTOR, THAT’S YOUR LITERAL JOB!!

also he says “adventure does not come to the idle, it comes to those who seek it” which is like, not that true? Literally almost every adventure the Ninja went on wasn’t because they sought it out, the circumstances just kinda pushed them in that direction. So forgive me if I don’t really trust your judgment here Wu🙄.

This quest the ninja seek out also leads to the city getting terrorized again, after literal months of peace. So if Wu had acted like a normal person and just tried to get them to train more instead of terrorizing them, Aspheera might’ve never been released and the city would’ve also been fine until maybe prime empire.

overall, I really didn’t like him in this season, he’s completely willing to almost cause his student’s deaths for the sake of “sharpening them” after they didn’t really do anything wrong, then getting annoyed when they seek out his guidance again. It has the energy of a controlling parent who is never satisfied with anything you do, and any slight deviation from perfection is played out as more serious than it actually is.

sorry this was so long lmao I have so many thoughts and issues with this season and Wu in general. They could never make me form a consistent opinion on you, Wu.

#ninjago confessions blog

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lyricalt · 2 days ago

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PK2025: 05. Kiss on the Palm

Pridekisses - Prompt List 2025

TF2 - same fraction sniperspy - rated: T

----

It’s the second time that they’ve fallen asleep in each other’s beds. The first time happened on accident in Sniper’s camper, where the sex had apparently been fantastic enough Spy had simply dozed off until morning, woke up looking slightly annoyed, and detangled himself from Sniper’s koala hold with impressive grace and nonchalance. Ultimately, Spy didn’t have too much to say on it. Sniper, following Spy’s lead, didn’t see any reason to point it out either, and so Spy had left after a brief good-bye, leaving Sniper to feel some type of way about how things were between them—a fractional shift, a little puzzling but not too troubling. It was an accident, neither good nor bad, but shouldn’t really be repeated.

And now, in their typical tit-for-tat manner, Sniper wakes up in Spy’s overly plush bed, similarly annoyed, and then more miffed at the fact that apparently he’s got a habit of clinging and snuggling if he’s got an extra body sleeping next to him. Spy is laying under Sniper’s arm and leg on his side, facing away from Sniper. His breathing is even and he isn’t wiggling, but that doesn’t really mean anything when it comes to spies being truly asleep.

Sniper’s got none of Spy’s slinky finesse, but he clearly can’t stay here now that he’s awake. He knows the value of waiting and patience, and this isn’t one of those times where he can wait out the next move. It’d be worse if he doesn’t take his own initiative, as embarrassing as the entire thing is, and if Spy wakes up knowing Sniper had just laid there like an idiot then the embarrassment will turn straight into floor-swallowing mortification.

Sniper sits up. He’d spent so much time committing to the act of leaving, he forgets the details of where his limbs ought to go and in what order. The movement startles Spy into turning to face him—so Spy had been awake all this time—which leaves Sniper awkwardly braced on one elbow while his other hand is over Spy’s chest, hovering over Spy.

Spy blinks.

Sniper quickly slides his leg off from Spy’s hip. (One other extremity he’s forgotten to remove from Spy.) Just his luck it gets tangled in Spy’s stupid silk sheets—shouldn’t they be slippery enough to not have that problem? And the sheet pulls down, exposing Spy’s bare chest to the waist, not to mention falling off from Sniper completely.

“You slept well,” Spy says, completely unbothered, or making the deliberate choice to look unbothered. He even stretches, right under Sniper, though maybe he’s due for a quick stretch after being under Sniper for half the night. His chest is littered with bite marks and hickies.

Sniper grunts. It doesn’t seem right to apologize for overstaying. After all, Spy hadn’t made any excuses when he’d done it. With a sigh, he lightly smacks Spy’s shoulder. “You didn’t wake me.”

Spy shrugs and catches Sniper’s hand before a second smack can be initiated. He pecks a small kiss under Sniper’s palm.

“How flattering that you think I can also wake up with all my faculties intact, ready to kick you out,” Spy mumbles against Sniper’s skin. He drops Sniper’s hand. Despite his statement, he looks more alert than ever. “You look like you are in a hurry.”

Sniper probably looks like a lot of things in the moment, which might read to Spy that he’s in a hurry. His palm tingles, and he hadn’t realized his hand had curled into a nervous fist, like somehow he wants to keep the feel of Spy’s mouth inside his palm.

“Uh, yeah. I’m starved,” he says, scooting off the bed. The fucking bedsheet’s got a mind of its own, following his feet to the floor. Now Spy’s completely exposed, but Sniper ain’t looking. His clothes are scattered but he only needs to pull on the trousers and shirt. “Y’want anything?”

Spy’s leering at him, watching him dress, which actually makes Sniper feel better. “No. I’ll likely waste away in bed for a while longer.”

Sniper scoffs as Spy settles back into the bed, now comfortably sprawled with the extra space. Still naked. “Suit yourself.”

Spy makes a noise of indifference, though he glances over at Sniper again, eyes now assessing. “Something wrong with your firing hand, by the way?”

Sniper realizes he’s still making a fist, fingers growing sweaty. He shakes out his hand, like he’s got a cramp.

“Nah, nothing to worry about,” Sniper says, as casually as he can, and flees the room.

#Pridekisses2025 #sniperspy #bloody suit #tf2 #promptfic #sniper x spy

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skyheld · 5 months ago

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Dhavi approaches Ameridan while festivities for Wintersend are at their peak. She carries a bundle wrapped delicately in brown paper and string, which she holds out for him. Unwrapped, it reveals a box of lavender incense and a fired and glazed clay incense holder in the shape of a bear, who will hold the incense out over a tray to catch the ashes. Bundled with the incense is a note with the name of the merchant from which she bought the incense.

“I don’t know about you,” she explains gently, “but with so much on my shoulders, I struggle to sleep at times.” She hesitates and ultimately decides not to add that she doesn’t have to live in the world she’s creating, for better or for worse. “This helps me, though. And if that is an issue, I hope it might help you, too. If not—” she laughs a little, shrugging “—well, it smells good.”

Ameridan doesn't expect a Wintersend gift. Not a personal one, at least --- he's aware he's still a symbol of sorts to some people and an opportunity to others, and he expects some meaningless things meant to appease him and the Inquiition, make them remember the giver when considering their allies. It won't be anything close to the ludicrous gifts he'd be presented with when he was high in Drakon's favour (so much extravagant jewelry he'd never use. hats he and orinna would die with laughter while trying on in private later. a live bird. you can't give a live bird to someone who's travelling eleven months out of twelve---) but it will be something equally unwanted. He's asked lady Montilyet to make sure he won't to accept any in public.

This is something else. He knows by its plain wrapping and the way she's giving it to him in private, and the fact that she's Dhavihal, there won't be anything ostentatious about this gift. He's surprised and happy to receive it, a smile (still rare, but this one is genuine) crossing his face as he takes it. "This is kind of you", he says as he opens it, taking care not to tear the paper (it's so inexpensive now, they tell him, but it still seems such a waste to ruin it). As the gift unwraps, he's not sure at first what it is he's holding, but her explanation makes it click.

"Dhavihal, this is..." It's perfect. Sleep doesn't always come easily, and when it does it isn't always restful, though he doesn't want to admit how right she is in case she'll worry. "This is very thoughtful. I--- think I'll have use for this. Is it lavender?" He holds the box of incense up to smell it. There's something calming about the herb's scent, even before it burns. "Thank you, truly."

#keepslore #ameridan:ic #he's going to sleep so well. right now in fact

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cto10121 · 6 months ago

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Book Fiyero: *immediately recognizes Elphaba and stations himself at the backdoor to prevent her from evading him, stalks her halfway across town to her aerie (even though at that point in time she was only a college friend he hadn’t seen in five years), insists on seeing her again, instinctively goes to comfort her when she first cries, gets sucked into increasingly deep and fraught conversations with her about collateral damage and freedom fighter terrorism, calls her the “most individual, the most separate, the most real” DURING AN ARGUMENT, says he adores Elphaba’s looks IN THAT SAME ARGUMENT, doesn’t understand Elphaba’s “being born with a talent or an inclination for goodness is the aberration” comment because (implied) he sincerely believes Elphaba isn’t evil, changes his mind about the plight of the Animals all by himself but doesn’t mention it to Elphaba because he is afraid she would distance himself from him, buys scarves for both his wife and Elphaba even though only Elphaba likes scarves, is so concerned for Elphaba and her dangerous Lurlinemas Eve mission that he stalks her instead of staying at his club or just leaving town altogether, and is so worried about her that he returns to the aerie just to see her*

Also Book Fiyero: Am I in love with Elphaba?

#😭😭😭😭😭😭#wicked #wicked meta #wicked book #faeyero #fiyeraba #re reading wicked and i am crying #maybe the musical was right all along in making him the scarecrow #jk fiyero’s wicked smart no pun intended #i think he was protecting himself subconsciously from heartache #because he had sarima and the kids #if he got in too deep with elphie…well…#but sarima believing he was a little in love with glinda makes me laugh so hard. so off base #honestly the intensity with which fiyero just latched onto elphaba when he sees her again. real I'M NOT GOING TO LOSE HER AGAIN vibes #it almost makes me wonder #because it’s been five years dude #crope saw her too #but he didn’t stalk her halfway across town just to say hi #and he knew her for much less time than glinda boq crope AND tibbett. they literally had only (1) line of dialogue during the shiz years #don’t get me wrong #typically when you have to ask yourself if you love that person the answer is usually no #but i think in this case actions speak louder than words #no shade to musical fiyero btw he also got the sauce. especially bailey!fiyero oh god #but book fiyero is something else #‘my wife is from nest hardings’ ELPHABA WAS BORN IN NEST HARDINGS #he could have said ‘my girlfriend or friend or cousin’ but nooo it had to be wife #also the fact that he refused to sleep with sarima’s sisters or be unfaithful to sarima because he didn’t want to compromise his power #but then sleeps with elphaba when she sheds (1) tear #i’ll shut up now

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titaneus · 1 day ago

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When he asked if he did something wrong all she could do was shake her head in the moment. No, he was doing everything right. In fact he was too good at it and that was the problem.

A shaky breath was met when he slowly pulled his fingers out, and she was left with an aching emptiness that was downright maddening. And it was only made worse when he stared at her as he cleaned her juices off his fingers. God she needed that tongue of his inside her at some point tonight. She doesn't care if she's never allowed to leave the bed again if it meant she got to feel that mouth of his fuck her.

"It can hurt, it's not uncommon for the first time. But it doesn't last long." She felt bad for telling him but she didn't want to lie about it either. Even though he did a good job of stretching her out there was likely still going to be some pain in the beginning. But once she's able to adjust it should feel good, at least she hopes so. "I'll let you know when you can put in a little more ok?"

The first inch was a painfully tight stretch. A hiss escapes her lips as nails dig into his biceps. She had fallen back to her head rest on the expensive pillows so she could focus on his face and his expressions, and so that he could see hers as well. For their first time it's fitting that it would end up in a missionary position.

When she felt the pain subside the pressure in his biceps lessened and she gave him a nod to signal he can push in a little further. It continued like this until he was fully sheathed inside of her and she was gasping over how full she feels. The tightness of the stretch was slowly fading and all she can focus on was his face and how full and complete she felt in this moment. It was like they were made for each other, it was insane how perfect he felt inside of her.

Whether this ended up as a one night stand or turned into something more there was no way she could ever sleep with anyone after this. Not when he fills her up just right and he hasn't even started fucking her yet. She's heard of people tossing around how some people are made for each other, and she can't but wonder if that was the case for the both of them.

Her hands let go so they could slink under his arms and wrap around his chest in an embrace. Tania wanted to be as close possible to him in this moment. Lips plant a soft kiss on his forehead before moving to kiss his lips.

She could see it on his face, how hard he was trying not to lose himself to the pleasure. He really was trying his best not to hurt her and it made her heart flutter. And unintentionally her walls tighten around him ever so slightly. "Y-you can move now." She whispers against his lips before kissing him fully. "If it's too much I'll let you know—Now just show me how good this makes you feel."

While it was her first time, it was also his, and she wanted to make sure it was just as good for him as it would be for her.

He'd noticed her body reacting to his nips and bites. He'd never bitten someone like he'd bitten her, so he didn't have anything to compare her reactions to. Grimmjow found he didn't actually mind that too much though.

He'd focus on her face as he licked the juices from her fingers, he was tempted to take the fingers into his mouth to ensure they were completely clean, but he refrained. He could tell she was thinking about something but he wasn't sure what. Or maybe she was simply focusing on how he was making her feel. He could probably spend a number of hours between her thighs just ruining her with his tongue at a later date. He wasn't a one-and-done type of guy. He was hardly typical in general.

"Good to know," He'd never had a reason to retract his claws before, it felt unnatural, and perhaps in a way it was. His fingers slid into her with minimal resistance, aided by the sheer amount of arousal fluids, he watched as they entered her. It was such an interesting sight to behold. Mostly because, in this life, he'd not been with anyone before. He felt her walls fluttering around his digits but he didn't know what that meant, it didn't feel like a bad thing though.

He was absolutely going to ruin her.

The movement of his hand was slow, he wasn't trying to hurt her, plus he didn't really know what he was doing just yet. "'S good?" He had to ask, despite her words and how she gasped, and moaned. He wanted to make her feel good. As she gripped his bicep he'd look at her hand before glancing back at her face. The flush on her skin was so pretty.

Then again, she was really pretty. Gorgeous would be a better way to describe her. When she spoke again before showing him the motions with her fingers she wanted him to try, he'd nod. He'd try the scissoring one first and he'd do it a few times before curling them inside her. He wanted to hear more of those noises she was making. The gasps and moans were so attractive to him. They seemed to be incredibly compatible to some extent. How compatible remained to be seen but it was insane just how hot felt felt from her noises and scent alone.

"I do somethin' wrong?" The words left his lips as she grabbed hold of his wrist to stop him from continuing to use his fingers on her. It was when she spoke more, about how she wanted to cum with him inside her, that he realized he'd not done anything wrong at all. Maybe he'd been a bit too good at using his fingers on her?

He'd been following her slight coaching as well as his own instincts when he was doing that. Once she released his wrist he'd pull his fingers out of her slowly. And then those wet digits were being brought to his lips so he could clean her juices off of them. All while making eye contact with her no less. Once his fingers were clean his claws came back out.

He'd blow a breath out through his lips. "I'll go slow. I don't wanna hurt ya... I dunno if it can hurt or not, but I really don't wanna hurt ya." He'd lick his lips before taking one of his hands and using it to press the tip against her folds. Given how soaked she was easing his way inside might not prove too difficult.

If he was able to he'd likely press kisses to her neck and throat. Maybe her lips too, if he could reach them in whatever position they found themselves in at the start. "Tell me if it gets to be too much for ya." His voice was a bit quieter because he was focusing on not just slamming into her. She felt so good.

#desgarron #|| ic ||#|| bleach ver ||#[ tw usfw ]

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seenthisepisode · 2 months ago

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i did something that was absolutely legal but it feels completely illegal and i am so stressed i have a migraine

#look i work retail and we give discount on damaged items. they are -30% for a month then if they don't sell they go -50% and after another #month they go -70%. then after another month or two if they don't sell they are officially destroyed under cameras #because we live in capitalism and they have to be destroyed instead of god forbid being given away. but to the point.#there is a catch because after the are -70% for about a month we can email the regional manager and ask if we can make it -90%#now that is a solid discount #and. this is what makes me stressed. we had this vinyl of red taylor's version. it was already -70% because the cover was a little torn #and it was still about 100 pln (a lot for me but for a regular european it's like 23 euro so not a bad price)#the regular price was 350 pln . and well i wanted that thing but I can't spend a 100 Polish zloty of my paycheck on a vinyl. still too much #for me a minimum wage worker . so . i waited and emailed the regional manager today if he can approve disocunting #and i gave him a list of products because that vinyl was not the only thing already discounted -70% for almost a month now #so it was a list with official barcode numbers of them and names of albums and in the email i said these were all records....#but i just. didn't happen to mention that this one. this one. was a very expensive vinyl 😅🤭😭#but i put it's code so he COULD check what product it was. I didn't lie. i just didn't specify that this one product was vinyl.#and he approved . so it went from 350 zloty to 35 😭 which is like not even 10 euro lol #and of course i bought it (our team leader had to discount it manually)#and now i am laying in bed overthinking the whole thing and worrying that if there is a problem with that not only i personally #will have a problem but also our team leader who is actually my friend like its a good person #i actually felt my heart in ny throat as i was leaving wokr today because... I didn't essentially do anything wrong. i did not say all of #those discounted products were cds. but I didn't write in caps lock that it was vinyl. and i feel like I cheated but I didn't because #I didn't have to specify it was in fact vinyl. but the fact that i got a 90% discount on an extremely expensive vihyl is keeping me up #and I can't sleep lol even though the company i work for is shitty for us in many different ways which o don't #want to go into right now. i just hope it's all going to be okay lol #prrsonal

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puhpandas · 2 years ago

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Take Me Home 1, 2

(to see new chapters release, sub on ao3 :))

(3227 words)

When Cassie wakes for the second time, it's not with a pounding head and limbs as heavy as iron. No. This time, her awareness of the world rolls in smoothly, and all she feels when she wakes fully is faint buzzing throughout her body.

She revels in it; the fact that theres no pain. She doesn't think too hard about why, she just shifts, moving to stretch her limbs, but hisses when going to move her arm sends a wave of soreness pain up her arm.

She grits her teeth, yelping and suddenly re-entering the world fully when the pain throws her into alertness.

Her eyes shoot open, and she moves to sit up in bed, heart racing when all she can remember is last being in the dark, dingy, falling apart Pizzaplex, but she calms when all she can see is someone's bedroom.

"...Huh?" She mumbles, her mind still not having fully caught up to her yet. She glances around the room, painted a pale blue, with furniture tucked against the neighboring walls and flowing curtains covering most of the sunlight filtering through the window, a light breeze ruffling them.

Movement catches her attention in the corner of her eye, and she glances over just in time for Gregory to snort awake, eyes trailing across her, not really seeing her, until they blow wide in recognition.

"Cassie!" Gregory exclaims, rushing to stand up from the position he was in where he had been sitting in a chair, laying his head in his arms, hunched over on the bed. "You're finally awake!"

Cassie feels her heart warm when she realizes that Gregory had been waiting for her to wake up by her bedside, never leaving her prescence. Long enough for him to fall asleep. Her heart slows to a normal rate when she sets eyes on him, immediately feeling at ease, and she breaths a deep breath, shifting to sit up more and allowing Gregory to help her when he rushes over.

She hisses when the movement jostles her leg and arm, and she finally takes a good look at them, realizing that at some point, in her sleep, her cardigan had been taken off, leaving her in her button-up, and her shoes and socks had been discarded, leaving her in her dark purple tights and shorts.

Gregory notices her staring at her foot, which is propped up on a pillow, peeking out from under the thick comforter, with some sort of makeshift splint made from cloth wrapped around the ankle.

"We had to improvise." He informs her, that lopsided grin Cassie'd always see in her dreams and on her homemade missing posters stretched on his face. "Ness cant exactly take the chance of getting involved with authority."

Cassie furrows her brows, her mind still kind of foggy from her -what she guesses- long sleep. "Ness?"

Gregory perks up. "Oh. It's a nickname we use for Vanessa a lot. Y'know, that blonde girl that was with us in the pizzeria?"

Cassie nods in recognition, remembering her blonde ponytail with rainbow streaks. "Yeah, um... how exactly did--"

She gets cut off when the door clicks open, and speak of the devil. "Oh, you're awake." Vanessa peeks her head in the room, a smile on her face when she sees Cassie sitting up and awake. "We were just making dinner, and I wanted to see if you were up."

"Um..." Cassie trails off. "Dinner?" She settles on.

Gregory senses her uncertainty, and settles a hand on her shoulder. "Vanessa's makin' chicken alfredo. And since you're awake, now you can finally eat."

Her stomach rumbles as if on queue, and her cheeks redden. Gregory has no problem laughing at her. "How long has it been?"

Cassie tries to think. "A few hours before you came and got me, since I ran to the Pizzaplex as soon as I got the message. So... that plus however long I slept for."

"Eighteen hours." Vanessa supplies helpfully.

Cassies eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "Eighteen hours?!" She exclaims.

Gregory laughs, and Vanessa just looks at her with a crooked smile that reminds her of Gregory's. "Yup. You were exhausted physically and emotionally, and were injured, kiddo. The fact that you slept for so long checks out."

Gregory giggles. "Remember when we first got back, you slept for twenty-one."

Vanessa rolls her eyes. "I think I had a perfectly good reason to sleep the whole day away. Unlike you." She points two fingers from her eyes to Gregory. "Its not my fault you have the same amount of energy as a hyperactive dog."

"You mentioned a dog! So is the dog talk working?" Gregory asks, smugly. "Come on, Ness. Just concede. Its only a matter of time before you cave."

Cassie just watches, unsure of what to do when Gregory and Vanessa talk. Theres a grin on Gregory's face, not one she's used to. Not like the mischievous, pointed ones when Gregory was brewing something up, or the slight, hopeful ones, when Cassie would talk about when they got older, and she and Gregory could work towards getting a car and finally being able to give Gregory a life where he doesnt have to worry, and they can just live. Just a few more years, they'd always say.

This one is easy. Its gentle, with no kind of edge to be detected, and it looks so right on his face. It doesn't look forced, it doesnt look rare. Cassie can tell just by looking that Gregory has smiled like this often, and hes been allowed to be used to it. To smile without the quirk of worry.

It warms Cassies heart, to see that theres been change. But it also hurts.

Because he'd been away for so long, and although Cassie is so, so glad to have him back, she can't help but wonder why he never reached out to her. If he'd been able to smile so easily like this, while she couldn't muster one at times, too empty from his absence.

"I can barely take care of you and Freddy, kid." Vanessa points out, and Cassie is thrown back into reality. "And now I got another destroyed animatronic to fix and another kid. Not even mentioning a dog."

Cassie gasps, big and sudden at Vanessa's words. "Roxy!" She exclaims, and she winces when her voice rasps, and her dry throat burns from dehydration. "Roxy! Where is she? Is--Is she okay?!"

When Cassie starts to shift, arms moving to roll the comforter off of herself and somehow leave the bed, Gregory and Vanessa both rush to gently push her back down.

"Its okay, Cassie." Gregory says in that soft voice of his where it feels like it's only reserved for Cassie. "Shes in parts and service. While you were asleep, we wanted to fix her up a little, so we took turns watching you and fixing Roxy up."

Cassie feels the tension melt off of her body when she hears that Roxy is here, and has been fixed a little, but she still furrows her brows in confusion at 'parts and service', because are they not in a house right now?

Cassie can see Vanessa roll her eyes and go to explain. "He means that shes in one of the spare rooms we use to work on animatronics." Vanessa tells her. "We used it to build Freddy a body, and once Freddy started calling it parts and service, Gregory jumped on it, and it just stuck."

Cassie nods slowly, taking in the influx of information that she cant fully sort through right now. "So thats why Freddy didnt have a head."

"Do you want to see her?" Gregory asks. "Roxy, I mean. I'm suprised she hasnt barged in here already. I had to fight her to get her to trust me and Ness enough to work on her and watch you."

Cassie smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Because Roxy is so worried about her, and Cassie is happy that she cares, but shes upset that Roxy and Gregory are so hostile towards eachother. "Yeah. Um. I would like to see her."

Gregory nods, and smiles. "Kay. She wont look the exact same, since I tried my best to restore her some, but at least she isnt about to fall apart."

Vanessa leaves the room with a curse, and Cassie ignores the slight burning smell coming from outside the door. "...Okay. Just... when you get her, can we have some alone time?"

Gregory nods, halfway out the door. "Okay. Sure. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay." She says, and then Gregory is gone.

Cassie breathes deep, playing with the frayed edges of the comforter when theres nothing else to do. She can hear the clattering of kitchen utensils from further in the house, and hushed voices.

The silence stretches further in her room, and when Gregory doesnt return, not right away, Cassie can feel her chest tighten, and something grip her lungs.

She breathes harshly through her nose, and notices how her hands begin to shake slightly.

Something grabs at her chest, something akin to panic, feeling like a giant hand and squeezing.

Gregory. Is all she can think about. He said he'd be right back. Where is he? He shouldn't have been gone this long, right?

Have I lost him again?

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying really hard to keep still, to keep calm, but her brain is jumbled, like its tied itself in knots, and all she can think about is how Gregory isn't here with her.

She has half the mind to get up, to tear through the house to search for him, to make sure she hasnt lost him again, that she wont have to look for him again. But one look at her ankle thats wrapped in cloth and she knows it isnt possible.

She makes a pitiful noise, breaths huffing out of her mouth now, short and heavy, and Gregory hasnt come back yet, and she cant do a thing about it.

It's only when Gregory pops his head back through the door, nudging it open with a creak that Cassie is ripped away from her thoughts and actually realizes how much shes panicking.

Gregory steps inside, a smile on his face, mouth open ready to speak, but it drops right off as soon as he sees Cassie.

Cassie cant find it in her to speak when Gregory rushes over to her, asking if shes okay. Her brain feels like its fogged over, or like its signal is blocked, and she cant think enough to respond to his questions.

All she can do is reach out to him when relief overwhelms her, enough for tears to slip past her lashes, and Gregory pauses in his rapid fire questions, seeming to understand something.

"I'm here, Cassie." He tells her, getting on the bed with her. He let's her wrap her arms around him and squeeze him as much as she needs when she moves to. "I'm not leaving again, okay? I'll be here with you. Nothings going to take me away from you. You arent going to lose me."

Cassie relishes in the reassurance. It reaches past all of the fog into some part of her brain, and it's like hosing down a wildfire. Her breathing slows down as she soaks up the feeling of Gregory right here, with her, and not going anywhere.

The panic that gripped her heart loosens some, and shes finally able to breathe, breathing deep breaths when Gregory does too.

"Sorry." She says after a moment, wiping at her eyes. "I dont... I dont know why that happened. I, um..."

"Separation anxiety." Gregory says, and Cassie startles. When shes finally able to unfuse herself with Gregory enough to look at his face, he has a knowing, serious expression on his face. "I had my rodeo with it, too... me and Freddy didnt have too good of a time with it."

Cassie furrows her brows, and it feels like she has ten thousand more questions added to the pile to ask, but Gregory stops her before she can speak.

"I'll tell you another time, okay?" He says, gesturing to the door where Roxy stands, waiting patiently for someone who was, when she last checked, willing to rip apart the guy Cassie just hugged to death. "Just... I promise I'll help you with it, okay? I dont think I'll be too different from you, after trying to reach you all night, and also..."

His eyes glaze over some, looking like a thousand different memories are playing over them, but he shakes it off, offering one more smile. "Itll be fine, okay? I'm gonna go make you a plate, cuz I think dinners ready, and you can talk to Roxy. Sound good?"

Cassie doesnt know what's wrong with her, because she almost tears up again at Gregory's words, because hes being so kind, and so understanding. She shouldn't be surpised, she guesses, Gregory had always found a way to catch her off guard with kindness when she'd been so used to being brushed off or disliked.

She nods, smiling back ag him, and he offers a thumbs up, moving past Roxy and shutting the door behind him.

It's only now that Cassies able to fully pay attention to Roxy, and she gasps, almost not recognizing her.

Before, she hadn't had anything resembling a face. Just her endoskeleton skull exposed due to broken casing. But now, she somehow has her face casing back. The colors are a little off, and it looks dusty and unused, but she looks like herself. Her last remaining strands of hair are fuller now, some new strands added. They've been shifted, too, styled to look adjacent to her old style, just shorter.

Her body isnt much different, one of her arms has its forearms back, a bright, clean purple compared to her filthy leg warmers, and she has her other foot back, just a larger size and different color.

But the most prominent change are definitely the eyeballs, glowing blue LED's, stuck securely in their sockets.

Cassie laughs disbelievingly, joyously, putting her hands up to her mouth with a wide smile.

"Roxy!" She exclaims. "You have eyes again!"

It's only now, when Roxy laughs along with her, that Cassie realizes her voice box has been replaced, too. Cassie laughs even more when Roxys voice filters through, sounding happy, instead of angry, no warbling or static to be found.

Roxy heads to her bedside, and shes walking much more surely, now. Not like her long, wide strides, always careful to not collide with something. She sways from side to side, ever confident in her looks.

"How do I look?" Roxy asks, fluttering her eyelashes now that she has some again and fluffing her new hairdo up with her hand. "The brat gave me a makeover."

Cassie giggles. "You look beautiful, Roxy."

"I know." Roxy says, but then turns her attention towards Cassie. "How are you doing, Speed racer?" Roxy asks, voice soft. "That elevator couldnt have felt good."

Cassie shakes her head, gesturing to her splinted arm and ankle. "Nope, but... Gregory and Vanessa fixed me up pretty good. I'm not hurting that much."

"I'm glad." Roxy smiles, because she can now.

It's just Cassie and Roxy, now. And like with Gregory, everything she'd been feeling, all the thoughts she'd been having all bubble up to the surface, and now that everyones here, and safe, she just wants to get it all out.

So Cassie furrows her brows, and goes to tell Roxy I'm sorry, I didnt want to, I shut you down and you still saved me, why? But before she can, the door clicks back open, and Gregory steps inside her room, balancing two plates on his hands.

"Dinners ready." He tells her, smiling, and Cassie doesn't know why shes suprised when after Gregory hands her her own plate, he crawls up on the bed with her.

So she doesnt voice it. She just smiles, a big, wide one, but still small and soft.

Vanessa walks inside the room with her own plate, and Freddy, looking everything like the home-built animatronic he is, follows behind her, extra pillows and blankets in his arms.

"I was thinking we have a movie night." Vanessa says, sitting in the same chair Gregory was when she first woke up. "Better than you having to sit in here bored, right, kid?"

Cassie nods, and her mouth waters when she catches a whiff of the chicken alfredo sitting in her lap.

Gregory snatches the remote from Vanessa, holding it away from her arms when she tries to take it back. The TV in front of them that she just now notices is in the room comes to life, Disney+ appearing on screen.

Gregory hands the remote to Cassie when Vanessa finally gives up, and shes able to pick the movie, putting on a happy, animated movie, where all the characters have their happy endings and nothing bad really ever happens.

The chicken alfredo was delicious, and they sat in her makeshift room, pillows and blankets built up like jenga around her to make her as comfortable as possible for hours, laughing together.

Cassies cheeks hurt by the end, and although shes so thrilled after hanging out with Gregory again, just having fun together like they used to, she cant help but notice that Roxy was really quiet the whole time. Really quiet.

Cassie doesnt think shes very good at reading animatronics yet, not like Vanessa and Gregory seem to be able to with Freddy, but Cassie cant help but feel like Roxy wasnt really able to relax this whole time, and shes surrounded with people she feels unsafe with.

By the end of it all, when the suns long set and Cassie feels tiredness drag her eyelids down, she cant rest, even when Vanessa's retired to her room, Gregory's left, and Roxy and Freddy went to parts and service.

She feels the same panic as earlier grip her heart. It's not like a panic attack; she's had a few of those, it's more like any chance of relaxation has left her body, and all that's left is feeling tense, on edge, and like something bad is going to happen. Like Gregory isnt going to be there when she wakes up.

But she needn't have worried, because it isnt too long until Gregory re-enters her room, wearing pajamas and Roxy and Freddy plushies clutched in one hand, with a night light in the other.

"This helped me and Freddy when it'd get bad, too." Gregory explains, tucking the Roxy plushie into her own arm as he lays down with her, clicking the night light shaped like Sundrop on. "That way, you can see me if you get scared that I'm gone."

Cassie can't put into words how grateful she is, or how glad she is that Gregory's back, and that she finally has him again, so she just doesn't, even though she wants to. Instead, she just clicks the lamp off, and when she lays down, wraps her arms around his middle.

Once Gregory is pressed up against her, with her forehead against his collarbone, and she can feel his slow, calm breaths, she feels relaxed. She finally feels herself slip into dreamland, and has no nightmares.

2nd ao3 link

#heres my ao3 notes #just wanted this chapter to be them chilling for a second #because this big talk cassie keeps wanting to have with gregory and roxy and just everything keeps getting delayed #but itll happen eventually #oh trust me #also hope you enjoy the gregory and cassie backstory crumbs! i dont really have anything in mind but ill see where my brain takes it. im ki #but right now i think im going for the idea that gregory was homeless and friends with cassie #and while unable to do anything because gregory makes her hide the fact that hes homeless to her dad #she has him stay at her house to get fed and sleep somewhere safe #and their unusual circumstances plus how sweet their meeting was makes them really close #i also wanted to hammer in the idea of gregory #vanessa and freddy already going through the healing process. like its been an uphill battle and taken a long time #but theyve had time to grow and heal together and know eachother pretty well by now #so i think cassie having seperation anxiety with gregory (and vice versa just less because of his experience + other circumstances)#and gregory having gone through that with freddy (and still is) would be interesting. 3 star fam wants to help cassie + roxy heal #wont be posting chapters on tumblr from now on #so if you wanna keep up sub on ao3 :)#take me home #tmh #my fics #pandas writes

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