#holy fuck look at dew's fACE

[miasmaghoul]

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

oh no oh my god oh NO even the previews are killing me omfg hfhdhxhhv I AM SHAKING MY FIST SO HARD AT THE BOTH OF YOU IN THE MOST LOVING MANNER!!!!

my lunch break can't cum soon enough

Snap Those Final Strings / Watch Me Fall Back

Collab with my dear and absolutely incredible friend @forlorn-crows as a lil gift for @miasmaghoul 😈❤️

"Dew whimpers again and reaches his arm back, craning his neck so he can sloppily capture the quint ghoul’s lips with his own. Breathing hot and humid against each other’s faces, Dew’s hand gripping at Aether’s hair. Whining again when Aether humps, just a little."

Words : 1,748

FULL FIC AND ART HERE!!

[aestheticpearl]

— ‘you’ve got to press it on you.’

characters. dewdrop, rain, swiss, mountain, phantom

themes. SMUT

[warnings] smut, blood, biting, dacryphilia, size kink, corruption kink, light choking, mirror sex, spanking

[gender neutral reader]

ghoulettes

a/n: they’re ghouls, read at your own risk

➳ dewdrop

he def fucks with a PASSION

very accommodating

if you want to go slow, he’ll go slow

if you want it rough, he’ll be rough

he can be whatever you’d like, praise or degradation

‘oh yeah, that’s it baby— fuck you really know how to move, where’d you learn that hm? you fucking the other ghouls?’

POWER BOTTOM

i said what i said

dew loves to watch you ride him

and he loves to hold your hips to guide your movements

it’s definitely his favorite position

he doesn’t mind topping tho

this ghoul will mark you up until your neck is painted in your own blood

he’ll lick it up cause he love how sweet you taste

“such a pretty thing covered in your own blood and my cum, fuck you turn me on.”

you lay breathlessly on top of the ghoul as he pets your head. you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, your mind fuzzy and fucked out.

“few more rounds yeah?” dewdrop states moving so he’s now on top of you.

he slips himself back inside you with little effort, using his own cum that’s on you as a lubricant.

you groan into your pillow at the stretch of him. no matter how many times you do it, it still burns in the best way possible.

“that’s it, you’re so good at taking my dick.” he says before leaning over to bite your shoulder.

➳ rain

he doesn’t fuck

he makes love

and he’s so good at it

gives the BEST head

he would stay between your legs for hours if you’d let him

shower sex

y’all are always fuckin in the shower or in some kind of water

oddly enough he’s not a fan of bath sex

the water splashes on the floor and you almost slipped because of it one time

shamelessly loud moans

he breathes heavily after he cums that’s so hot holy fuck

he’ll definitely thank you while cumming

‘thankyouthankyouthankyou— hgnnn i love you so much’

loves to make out with you while he’s inside you

he’s def cried after sex cause it felt so good but don’t tell anyone that

your lips are starting to go numb because of the heavy make out session between the both of you. it almost distracts you from the slow but skilled rolling of his hips into yours. almost.

“you feel so good around me, satan i love you so much.” rain says before moving back into the kiss and pinning you more up against the shower wall.

the water pours down both of your bodies and something about it just absolutely does it for rain.

“you look so amazing like this, soaking wet while i drill my cock into you.” he moans.

➳ swiss

kinky bastard

degradation king

but like his aftercare is amazing so it’s fine

corruption kink

fav position is doggy

loves shoving your face into a pillow while he plows you from behind

also likes to lean down and yank you up so he can hold your neck

has marked you everywhere

needs to let everyone know you’re his

‘you’re mine, don’t forget that’

almost bit a major artery in your leg

ALMOST

there was a lot of blood but it’s okay cause you didn’t die and it only turned him on more

he will try any angle that feels good

he MAKES you flexible

this bitch definitely growls

LOVES to make you watch how he disappears inside you

def has a mirror next to his bed

“look at how good i fuck you.” swiss grips your face and makes you turn to look at yourself in the mirror next to him bed. “look at how well your slutty hole takes me ahh fucking whore for my cock.”

you let out a pathetic whimper that makes swiss chuckle as he pushes your head back into the mattress.

“keep your eyes on me.” he whispers in your ear as he holds the back of your neck. he plants a swift smack on your ass before rubbing his hand over it gently to soothe the sting.

“good play thing.”

➳ mountain

he knows his size

he also knows how to use it

OH LORD

he is so gentle tho

a little scared he’ll hurt you

he also can’t degrade you

he tried and HE ended up crying

loves how he towers over your body

can and will man handle you which means he will fuck you everywhere he can

the wall, the bathroom, the practice room

everywhere

loves the thrill of getting caught

‘shhh baby you don’t want us to get caught do you?’

he loves when you’re vocal, since he kinda just grunts and groans

mountain lifts your leg gently for better access and you can’t help but moan loudly before his hand covers your mouth and he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“so loud, i’m starting to think you want someone to catch us pretty thing.”

your eyes squeeze shut as your body is hit with another wave of pleasure as you feel mountain’s free hand take yours to guide it down your chest and stop at your abdomen before pressing down.

“i’m right here, you feel that?”

➳ phantom

i love phantom i do but he’s younger and doesn’t have as much as experience as the other ghouls

that being said

he focuses a little too much on himself but

HE WHIMPERS

‘ah fuck’

he loves holding you close to him while thrusting into you

doesn’t pull out all the way, he kind of just jerks into you really fast

lil jackhammer

he learns how to make you feel good from your guidance

likes when you communicate how you feel during sex

he likes seeing you cry but only because it feels good

he doesn’t like hurting you

bites you but not hard enough to draw blood

he likes praising you

very possessive

phantom places gentle kisses over the fresh indent of his teeth on your neck while holding onto you for dear life.

“such a good little thing for me nghh so tight, all mine.”

you’ll admit he was going a little too fast for it to feel good on you end, that was until you adjusted your hips and he started hitting a certain spot that had your legs shaking.

phantom takes notice of this almost immediately.

“i hit your sweet spot didn’t i?”

“p-phantom i need to you slow down and keep that angle.” your eyes are practically rolling back into your head at this point as he listens to your instructions.

“fuck you’re squeezing me so tight.”

please reblog to show support ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

feral i’ve gone feral you guys

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

[bitchimasnake-sss]

tryin' his best ft. roronoa zoro!

i am once again thinking about zoro as a clueless boyfriend, completely new to the dating scene. no imagine, just imagine with me 😳😳

[modern au; zoro is a martial artist]

dont talk to me, im too busy thinking about the roronoa zoro as a confused husband boyfriend🤭 like can you imagine? the greatest martial artist of all time, the beast, the demon, the lord of the underworld. and yet, when you say, "i'm so tired, babe", he stands in all his 5'11 ft glory and goes blank. blank.

roronoa zoro was the sweetest man alive but holy fucking shit he was such an idiot clueless. for the past few days or so, the man had witnessed first hand how tired you were. your eyes were puffy, face dull and spirit broken. all those meetings at work; the relentless late-night calls, stay-backs and what nots had left you a mere husk of the woman you usually were. and so, he had decided to try his best to make sure his failing actions could comfort you when his words couldn't. and that started the chronicles of roronoa zoro's day of fuck-ups.

💚 zoro can't cook for shit. he knows that, you know that and your neighbour sanji (who is a chef by profession) knows that too. and yet one of these mornings, while the dew still clung helplessly onto the green leaves, he had gotten up and slipped into the kitchen. his plan was to surprise you with some breakfast. nothing too extravagant, maybe some easy mix pancakes? but all those plans came burning down when you were awoken with a shrill crash. hair knotted, face puffy, shirt slipping off of your shoulders and the first thing you see in the morning is zoro standing with flour on his chest and on the floor. and there lay an upside down steel bowl on the floor at the edge of his feet. "zoro?" you mumbled sleepily, assessing the damage, "what are you even upto? it's seven on a sunday." "yn- uh, you go back to sleep-i'll deal with this mess." if he was trying to appear nonchalant, he was failing. his eyes were blown out, forehead creased, lips pursed as if he had committed the worst atrocity mankind had witnessed. in a way, he had. he knew it was a sunday. he also knew it was your only day off so you should have been sleeping in instead of picking after his dumbass in the kitchen. "zoro?" you asked again but he refused to say anything more. when you gave him a look of steel, the moss-head carefully avoided your gaze before sheepishly admitting, "sorry. i was trying to figure out how to make you some pancakes." your gaze softened, "were you? that's so sweet of you, zo." you walked towards him, careful as to not step on the mess. your casual touched dusted off the flour from his navy shirt that had he slept in. once you were satisfied with the state of the shirt, you had resorted to an honest smile, "come on, let's clean this up first, yeah?" "but you should sleep-" "babe- with all due respect- if i leave you to clean this, i think you will set the kitchen on fire"

💚 on his next attempt to cheer you up in the afternoon, he planned on giving you a massage. you both had been dating a good few months and he had certainly touched you in more ways than just hand-holding but... this was new. he had never really done this for anyone before and so, what if you hated it or he did it wrong? but the man had put all his wayward thoughts aside. maybe his hands could knead away the stress from your aching muscles where his words failed to comfort you? and so, the bed dipped next to you as he came and sat down. you were lying on your stomach, scrolling on your phone. his fingers lightly skimmed your back and you jolted involuntarily at the intrusive touch. looking back, you muttered, "zoro? baby?" "just um, try to relax okay?" his palm flattened against your back. he applied some force, moving his hands up and down against your tank top, kneading the flesh underneath. you seemed to melt under his earnest touches, allowing your muscles to go slack under him. dropping your phone on the bed, you carefully had tucked your head under your arms and then, you yelped, "zoRO-" "yeah?!" he stopped all movements, panicked at your sudden reaction. "it hurt." you gave him a pained look before sighing, "you put too much force, babe." "did i? sorry" he chewed on the inside of his cheek, "sorry, really. do you want me to try again?" you gave him a kind smile before tucking your head back in under your arms and stuffing your face against the pillow. "it's okay, i am just gonna lay down for a while okay?"

💚 as truly a last resort, he called up nami and told her his problem (all grumbling and shit). after the red-head had laughed for five minutes at the martial artist's inculpabilities, she finally decided to help. she pondered for a second, staring at the screen intensely before saying "i dunno? me and vivi usually get like our favourite take out and just re-watch a comfort movie. it's pretty cozy and an easy way to deal with the general stress of life, you know?" "should i do that?" zoro mumbled, resting his head against the headrest of his car. he sighed, "did she tell you anything else if it's been bothering her? other than work i mean?" "she didn't say it out loud but having you as a boyfriend must be a pain in the ass anyways." "has anyone told you you're a royal bitch?" the words were harsh but his lips were pressed into a easy smile. "hah, yeah they have. but anyways, aren't you her boyfriend?" nami snapped back although she sported a smile of her own, "shouldn't you know what you should be doing to cheer her up? honestly she doesn't deserve an idiot like you." "hey, i've had a rough day okay? lay off of me." zoro bit back. "fine, whatever. just surprise her. i am sure she'd like it."

💚 and so, roronoa zoro's final mission had begun. he had picked up your favourite food from the chinese restaurant that you always ordered from. he had picked up a huge bouquet of flowers. and he had picked up a chocolate cake as desert. on the ride back home, he had even thought about what movie you both would watch. yes. yes. there's no way he could fuck it up now. he was ready to do his best. he opened the door with a wobbling right hand while his left held onto all the things. the cake carton was perched on his fingers, the takeout on another two fingers, the bouquet tucked between his bicep and chest. he wouldn't lie. it was a struggle to get everything in in one trip (especially with his level of patience when it comes to small, annoying things like this.) but it was all for you, so, it had to be worth it. tumbling in, he set everything on the coffee table in front of your tv. and then, he walked into the bedroom where you lay sleeping in the same position he had left you in the afternoon. it had been over three hours and you hadn't stirred even one inch. god, how tired were you? slowly closing the door behind him, he stepped back into the living room.

💚 your eyes were hazy and throat unusually dry when you stepped into the living room. your muscles were somehow even more tired and you were sure your body, mind and soul were incapable of doing anything but curling up and falling asleep again. on instinct, you searched for your boyfriend. "zoro?" you squinted at the man in front of you as he was in the process of setting down food on the table. and looking around, you noticed the huge bouquet perched on the sofa. "hey-" he turned towards you wide-eyed as if you had caught him doing something wrong, "uh- hi? hey? you're up already?" "whatcha doing? what's that?" you mumbled as you walked over to him, still not processing reality. as you stared down at the table, you wondered aloud, "food?" he sighed, defeated, "yeah." your brain fog cleared up and you looked up at his blushing face wide-eyed, "wait! you bought me food?" you turned on your heel to look at the bouquet and picked it up, "and this?" rubbing the back of his neck, he looked away from you, "it was actually meant to be a surprise cause i thought you were sleeping. but-" "zoroo!!" you practically lunged at him. your hands closed in around him as you rested your head against his well-built chest. hearing his quickened heart-beat, you eased even more against his familiar, scorching skin. you buried your face even deeper against him, "thank you!" his fingers danced over your scalp. his husky voiced was accompanied by calculated strumming of his finger over your hair, "i am sorry, it was meant to be a surprise, really." you pulled away from him to look at him in disbelief, "why are you sorry?!" he swallowed thickly, eyes scattering away from yours, "because- i dunno, i suck as a boyfriend?" he winced at his admission but continued nonetheless, "i tried making you breakfast, ruined it. i tried giving you a massage, ruined that too. i tried to set up a surprise date and fucked that shit up too." "zo." your fingers are delicate against his cheek, bringing his eyes back to yours. you gave him a small smile, "you tried. for me. that's what matters." although a smile blossomed on his lips, he washed it away with another sigh, "you're just saying that 'cause you don't wanna admit i'm a fuck-up in the boyfriend category." you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, "i am saying this because i love you. and you make me feel loved." "really?" you laughed, "i mean your massaging skills can use a bit of work but... yeah, other than that you're good. really." "i'm glad me being an idiot is endearing to you." he gave you a grin, "so, wanna eat? i'm kinda hungry." "yesss!!" you mirrored his smile. you paused for a second then wondered aloud, "you know what? i think i'm gonna call in sick tomorrow. we can hang out, just you and me." "oh, really?" he scrunched his nose up as if in deep thought, "then we gotta celebrate. you know there's cake in the fridge." "OMG I LOVE YOU!!" so, yeah, roronoa zoro might be kind of an idiot. but he was your idiot.

i wanna take domestic zoro and trap him in a bottle. i wanna just keep him like that. i really liked how this turned out lol. hope you guys did too <3

[answer2jeff]

ready for another lie?

// carmen berzatto x reader

song: Diet Mountain Dew.

pairings: nyc chef!carmen x journalist!reader

mdni!! i'm not responsible for your media consumption.

warnings: smutty smut, VERY DETAILED, fem!reader, oral and fingering (f!recieving), porn with plot, drinking, cursing, kinda subby carmy, praise kink, alludes to piv but it doesn't happen, complete and utter filth, i'm giving the people what they want don't look at me!!!

essentially a prequel, 1 year before the start of season 1 of The Bear.

"Fuck youuuuu! It's Friday, loosen up!" A groggy voice yelled from across the bar, cursing you for declining another drink.

You watched your friends flirt with the bartender over the course of 2 rounds of shots; causing harmless fuckery with the several guys who tried flattering them. You were actually bored for once. It made you sick.

You waited for something, anything else to impress you. You tried convincing yourself you didn't have to leave, that your friends wanted you here, and that nights like these were "good for your soul," but there seemed to be no hope.

"Just two vodka tonics. Oh, and a white Negroni. Uh, yes— yes, thank you." You caught a blonde curl from the stool next to you in the corner of your peripheral vision, and you dared to turn your head. You were met by the sight of an oddly familiar guy—and then it hit you like a semi truck.

The man you wrote your final thesis on "the senses creating art," about. Food & Wines best new chef, as of late.

You'd spent an entire year and a half traveling the world (after finally making a name for yourself as a journalist, and snagging a place in Food & Wines top writers) and interviewing the faces of all forms of modern art, representing one of each of the 5 senses.

Casey French, a fragrance designer as the face of "smell." Christopher Knowles, a fashion designer who specialized in optical wear as the face of "sight."

The list went on, until it ended at Carmen Berzatto, on "taste," just 6 months ago. It was September now, and you almost forgot about the 2 and a half hours you took from your day to sit down and talk to him in that studio. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you felt the pores in your palms release a nervous sweat.

You blinked rapidly, wondering if you were really seeing him— out of all the other Friday nights, when he could've visited all the other bars. But he chose this Friday, at this bar, next to you. You needed to say something.

"I'll take a Negroni too, actually. And you can just close out my tab for tonight." You handed the bartender your card after you anxiously fished it out of your wallet, trying to seem completely oblivious to Carmen's stare. Carmen clenched his teeth, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he kept his gaze focused on you.

"Holy shit! Is that—" A slightly younger man nearly yelped while he inappropriately pointed at you, quickly being shut down by his peer, and being told to "shut the fuck up," but Carmen stayed silent. He was dumbfounded at the sight of you.

"Uh, hi. Funny seeing you here," you croaked, swallowing hard when you realized how much of a horrible excuse of a "hello," that was. Carmen didn't seem to mind, dragging his head out of the clouds and smiling back at you as he received his glass.

"Oh my god, yeah. Wow, I— it's good to see you."

Carmen glanced down at your drink, watching you trace your fingertip around the rim of the short glass. He gazed at your fresh manicure, the beautifully layered rings on your fingers, the diamonds on your wrists, the black dress with a slit that exposed your leg up to your mid-thigh. Carmen always thought you looked nice, only being used to your blazers and gorgeous vintage pants that he was a little jealous of, but this was different.

And as if you weren't already anxious enough, Carmen's "friends" immediately arose from their stools and made their way to an empty table, leaving the two of you alone again. Just looking at him and his clean suit and tie made you nervous, especially with the ink on his hands still visible.

"Good to see you too, Carmen," you smiled, cheeks aching as you tried desperately to hide your excitement. Admittedly, you admired him. That wasn't new. But that feeling in your stomach, that aching, yearning feeling was.

"I don't usually do these things," Carmen mumbled, taking a sip from his glass and licking his lips.

"Me neither. It's kinda— I don't know, icky."

You knew Carmen avoided big gatherings like this, but they were usually tolerable thanks to people who "knew him" enough to let him hang around their groups in silence while they practically screamed at each other. But his free time just never seemed to align with anyone else worth talking to... until tonight.

"Icky. Couldn't have worded it better," Carmen tried not to laugh at your expense, keeping his tongue between his teeth as both of you fought back a smile.

"You get it! God, anyway—how've you been?" You inched closer to him, resting your chin in your palm as your elbows were propped up on the counter. You made sure to keep your stare on him and only him, glancing from his nose, to his lips, and back into his eyes. You knew exactly what you were doing, and it was too late to stop now.

Carmen paused, his mouth gaping open slightly as he thought of what he could possibly say to convey that he could be doing better, without completely ruining the mood. He sucked his teeth as he took a deep breath, his eyes glued to the floor until he finally looked at you again.

"Alright, I guess. Managing. How're you?"

"Managing. But really though. Like, has anything changed?"

Carmen thought about your question, realizing how much he seemed to relax tonight—while simultaneously being the most nervous he'd ever been outside of work in the last year. Was it being out and public after a long week? Was it the fact that he still felt so stupid for not getting your actual number, and instead only having access to your business email which was provided by your agent? Was it the smell of your perfume? Was it just you?

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I guess some things have changed."

He couldn't help but awe at the way you did your hair and your makeup that night, appreciating the tiny details your jewelry and purse of choice added to the look. He hardly ever thought twice about the attractive women he'd run into; making small talk and watching them get bored with his interests.

But now you were here; his fantasies, his desires were here, right next to him; wearing a dress that flattered your cleavage and cinched you at the waist, black heels that tapped against the footrest of the barstool. It made his head foggy, and he couldn't even wrap his head around the encounter.

After finishing your Negroni's over the course of 3 separate conversations that left you with a cramp in your side and your cheeks hurting from smiling—basically hitting it off like you were actual friends, you decided to pull the classic...

"You wanna get out of here?"

Two successful, somewhat well known adults in their lines of work were allowed to be human, right? They were allowed to share deep belly laughs with someone they didn't originally plan to see outside of a work setting, right?

Wrong. It was unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted: everything you promised you'd never be around him.

Carmen knew this.

But he was eye-fucking you in that goddamn interview. His tattooed hands rubbing against his thighs as he sat in front of you in the white light of that studio, his gentle voice contradicting his large, almost intimidating arms—it was all you could think about when you wrote your thesis. And now you were gonna be alone with him.

And despite his worries, despite the nervous sweat beading on his forehead, despite his growing anticipation when he admired your figure like a horny teenager, Carmen agreed. The smirk on your face and your manicured nails in between your pearly white teeth was convincing enough. He knew it was risky, given the fact that you still wrote for Food & Wine every couple of months: being more than capable of ruining his career with one wrong, but so right move.

"Yeah, actually."

Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.

Fuck it.

Carmen closed his tab, gently helping you down from the barstool by your hand. You held your purse close to you while waving a shy goodbye to your friends, who were drunkenly squealing in excitement for you. Carmen's peers seemed to be out of sight; therefore, out of mind. You felt your cheeks go hot, every part of your body tingling. Neither of you knew where you were going. Just not here, and not with everyone else.

He couldn't even think about the fact that he would be back in the glowing white light of the kitchen that following Monday, and you completely forgot about the paper you had to start by Sunday night. And it was way too late to care about any of that now.

You decided your apartment was best.

"Fuck.." Carmen grunted under his breath, his eyes hooded while he felt his pants tighten against his throbbing length. He spread his legs wider as you palmed him, trying to ease some of his tension. You hovered over him as he lied down, sprawled out on your leather couch. His hands were clawing at anything he could reach; your hair, your thighs, the straps of your dress until he pulled it down to your hips, and finally the clasp of your bra.

His bare chest heaved, red and covered in sweat. His dress shirt, tie, and jacket were somewhere in the mess of your apartment. He was honestly too desperate to care.

"You okay with me takin' this off?" Carmen whispered as he cupped your cheek, keeping his fingers prepared to unclip your bra with your permission. He admired every inch of your flushed face as he waited for answer.

"Mhm," you soothed him as your hand moved up and unbuttoned his pants the second your lips moved onto his. Saliva pooled in your mouths with every kiss, turning into a sloppy mess of tongue and teeth. Carmen struggled, but eventually tossed your bra onto the living room floor, his mouth just centimeters away from yours as he exhaled heavy breaths.

You sat up straight, pulling Carmen up by his shoulders and smashing your lips back into his. He pulled sway to breathe, taking it upon himself to peel the rest of your dress off. His tattooed hands gently caressed your plush thighs, his calloused fingers sliding under the hem of your lace underwear. He practically worshiped you like this, planting open mouthed kisses along your jawline and neck.

Carmen needed to hear you, feel you, taste you.

"I wanna taste you, if–if that's alright," he placed one last kiss of gratitude on collarbone before he looked up at you through lust-blown, half-lid eyes.

Your entire body began to heat up again, and Carmen's words went straight to your needy cunt. You could feel yourself dripping through your panties while you put a hand over your mouth in embarrassment, nodding frantically.

"Please," you begged, a mixture of a moan and a silent cry escaping. Carmen's hands detached from your thighs, your hips writhing up from the loss of contact. Without another word, he nodded his head, letting his hands travel down your hips as he got down on his knees in front of you.

Carmen took a shaky breath, glancing from your pleading eyes and back down to your bottom half. He hesitated, choosing to plant one more line of kisses from your tits down to your navel before giving you one last look for permission. He put his hand between your inner thighs, asking you to spread further. You blinked slowly while he peeled your panties off of you, wondering if he would notice how wet you already were.

Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.

Carmen licked his lips, admiring the sight of your puffy slit in hesitation. With your body sprawled out in front of him, your pretty face looking down at him...how could he not eat you out right on that leather couch?

"I've got you, baby," Carmen cooed, his eyes wide as he nearly drooled over the glossy puddle in your underwear. He gently placed your calves over his shoulders, his calloused hands scooping the underside of your thighs.

Carmens wet tongue licked a bold stripe from your hole up to your soaked clit, not a drop of your arousal going to waste. You grew impatient, the kitten licks he gave your sensitive bundle of nerves driving you mad.

"C'mon, Carmy, I—" You whined, pleading that he'd pick up the pace. Carmen decided not to hold back, giving your throbbing clit aggressive sucks that he'd later soothe with slow, flat-tongued licks.

You bit down on your hand while the other entangled in his hair to muffle the sinful noises you made. Carmen felt his stomach turn at the sound of his name falling from your gaping mouth.

Carmen took note of how much you loved his tongue diving into your weeping hole, earning whimpers and cries of "please," and "oh, fuck, Carmen." He groaned into your pussy when you caught a grip on his hair, placing his head even deeper between your thighs. He moved his hands from your thighs and up to your waist—forcing your jerky hips down on the couch. He wanted to make sure you didn't miss a single bit of pleasure.

"Can I.. uh, can I try something?" He stammered, picking his head up with his chin shiny with your liquids as his hand crept back down, prying between your folds. Carmen needed to keep every part of him busy so he wouldn't have to focus on the aching bulge, already leaking precum in his boxers. He felt his thighs clench as he fucking whimpered beneath you.

"S–sure.." You nodded frantically again, tossing your head back as Carmen carefully inserted a digit into your core. You whimpered in slight discomfort as he stretched you out, which he immediately reassured softly.

"Shhh... you're alright. Jus–just relax f'me, yeah?"

Carmen waited until you whined again; his fingers started at an agonizingly slow pace until he heard your moans getting a little too quiet for his liking. He picked his pace up, sliding another thick finger into your hole and ramming into your g-spot. He hesitated, afraid to hurt you—but you quickly dismissed his worries when you urged him that you needed more. Carmen aligned his tongue back with your pussy, sucking hard before comforting your desire with lapping at your clit.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you felt that familiar knot in your stomach, your grip in his hair tightening while your moans grew louder and louder. You didn't care if your neighbors could hear you through the thin walls of your apartment. You didn't even think about what this would look like the morning after—because none of it mattered. Not with Carmen's head between your thighs.

Carmen could tell you were close, prioritizing your pleasure before he could even register how badly he wanted to cum into his boxers. He couldn't help but buck his hips forward, begging for friction while every noise you made just inched him closer to his release... but he needed this to last.

"You close? Let me take care 'f you," he mumbled, breathing heavily against your pussy while he tried his best to stay still. It sent shockwaves through your body, and you tried desperately not to scream his name.

"So... so close.. Fuck, it's too much," your useless protest was cut short by a loud moan, muffled by the sweaty palm of your hand. Your heart pounded in your head as your walls clenched around Carmen's fingers. You weren't used to anything feeling this good in months.

"C'mon baby, you can handle it. You're alright. You're doing so good. Takin' my fingers so fuckin' good," Carmen's raspy voice comforted you. His tongue finally came back to relieve you, his fingers slowing down so as to not overstimulate you, as much as he wanted to.

"Carmy!" Your eyes screwed shut as your thighs shook. You chased your high, practically grinding into his face as his nose bumped your clit while his fingers remained at work.

—

"Jesus..." You panted, grunting in disappointment when you felt Carmen slide his fingers out of you. He licked them clean while your eyes were screwed shut as you tried to recollect yourself. Carmen planted a kiss on your temple the second he sat back up onto the couch, pulling you into his lap by your waist. You felt his erection against your crotch, his already sticky mess combining with your wetness yet again.

"You okay?" Carmen cupped your cheek, pushing any sweaty strands of hair out of your face. And just when he thought he couldn't have felt more proud of you, he melted into the feeling of your lips against his.

You didn't know if you'd ever see him again, you didn't know if this night would magically become niche hot gossip within your respective groups; all you knew was that you wanted him. His lust blown eyes on you, his hands gripping your waist as he bent you over your kitchen counter and fucked you dumb, the sound of sex echoing through your apartment.

Maybe some other Friday night.

[arachine]

pairing: shy!inexperienced!charlie walker x fem!reader warnings: corruption, blow job, unprotected sex, loser charlie, whiny charlie + so sorry for clogging ethan’s tags but i am a whore for interaction! reblogs are highly appreciated >.< wc: 750

corruption with shy!inexperienced!charlie is something so special to me. just the sheer mental image of him trembling beneath your touch. head fogged with lust, palms all slick with perspiration because his hands have been nestled in the thick of your hair for the past half hour.

he’s very well past his limit, and you know this, but you disregard his—rather ill—attempts to swat you away. one more, you tell him. but one more is never really one more. it’s two more, then three more, then six more—and now he’s lost count. so instead of fighting, he relinquishes his body to you. lets you tease and touch, lick and suck, until his limbs melt into the plush of his stab themed duvet. 

“oh, god,” he groans with a hand thrown over his mouth, “‘m gonna, ‘m gonna–shit–yeah, keep doing that.” immediately, you pull off of him with a wet pop, wiping away a dew droplet of spit from the side of your mouth. 

“that feel good?” you query, smoothing a gentle palm up and down his shaft. there’s a hint of mischief in your voice–it’s teasing, but nonetheless, the question is genuine. 

“yeah, ’s ni–“ charlie starts, but is promptly cut off when you lick a long stripe up his length. like a minx, you furrow your brows and feign confusion—as if you don’t know what you’re doing when you lick him like that—look at him like that. when you rub the smooth skin of your cheeks against it, and leave a trail of wet kisses along the side of it. 

“huh? couldn’t hear you, baby,” you pout, rubbing a thumb up and over his weeping slit. the boy mumbles an expletive under his breath. sits up on his elbows and flashes you a look of disdain for making him repeat himself, though, you know it’s disingenuous. 

“f-feels…good,” he manages to huff out, “really good.” you smile at his sincerity, and halt your ministrations altogether, rising from your haunches to stand above him. the loss of touch coaxes a noise from him, somewhere in between a whine and a whimper, and he almost slips from the bed trying to pull you back towards him. 

“nuh uh,” you admonish, nudging his chest back with the tip of your foot. when he tries to move again, you push him all the way down against the bed, until your foot rests flat and firmly on the crest of his chest. this time, he seems to get it, ultimately accepting defeat. he retrieves back to his initial position, and plants his elbows deep into the cushion of his mattress.

charlie watches intuitively as you slowly retract your foot. his eyes dance across the expanse of your face, and although the room is dimly lit, he can still make out the devilish smirk gracing your features. one by one, you begin to discard articles of clothing, and it’s then that charlie’s starting to get the picture. oh, he thinks, it’s happening.

he feels like he should do something, like he should prepare, but he knows that any advance he makes will only result in another reprimanding. and, fuck, he can’t help but to squirm around because never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d be in this position—both figuratively and literally—which is, naked from the waist down, leaning back on his embarrassingly small twin sized bed, while the prettiest girl at woodsboro high strips down in front of him. 

and not only did you suck him off, but you were going to take his virginity. at least he thinks you are. because now you’re inching closer to him, and straddling him, and—

“holy shit,” he drawls, involuntarily springing forward when you sink down on him. an intense flood of warmth surges to the pit of his belly like liquid lightning, and like the virgin he is, he almost lets a load out right then and there. pathetic, he thinks. 

“not g-gonna last, not like this,” he spits through gritted teeth, “too warm, ’s t-too much, i c-can’t.” though, before he can finish, you interrupt him with a drag of your hips, and raise a single digit to his lips.

“shh, i know, i know. you’re doing so good,” the pad of your thumb swipes his cheek, “gonna take care of you, make you feel good,” you assure, “don’t you want me to help you?”

“y-yeah, shit, yeah,” charlie nods, throwing his head back against his sheets.

“then give me one more.” 

© arachine 2023

[ash5monster01]

It Should Be Wrong

Pairing: Angus MacGyver x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, descriptive smut, dirty talk, strong language, p in v, oral (f receiving), confrontation, awkwardness, use of y/n

(I actually blacked out with this one so please know it is heavily rated R)

Summary: You never really saw Mac in a romantic or attractive way until one night the both of you get a little too drunk and find yourselves in bed. The worst part, it was the best you ever had.

word count: 2.9k

Masterlist

You didn’t get it. Not at first. He was always just a friend and when girls looked his way you’d find yourself confused. Yeah he had a charming personality, honey dew skin, perfect blonde hair, and glowing blue eyes, but he was Mac. The same Mac you’d known for the entirety of your whole life. The boy that would blow spit balls in your hair and scare any guys you talked too off. So why was it you were in the position you are now with none other than Angus MacGyver himself?

“Holy fuck” your hazy voice fills the room around you. Hands tangled in that perfect blonde hair, Mac sat between your legs, and was giving you the best head of your life. You could still see the campfire glow out the windows of his room where the two of you had just been ‘drinking a few beers’.

Now he was eating you for all your worth, humming against your folds, and curling your toes. It was dirty, in every sense of the word. It’s not until his lips wrap around your clit do you find yourself tightening your thighs around his head. You would be concerned about suffocating him but the hum of delight he gives buzzes from your clit all the way up to your brain.

“I’m gonna cum Mac” you pant, almost embarrassed by how fucked out your voice is, especially towards him. You should be embarrassed it’s even him doing this to you. Yet hearing your words he only continues to eat you like a man starved and pushing you over the edge which has you trembling in seconds.

“Fucking delicious” he rasps and before you’ve even come down from your high he’s rolling you over with ease and propping your ass in the air. When did he get so strong? Before you even register what’s happening he’s slid into you at full force, pelvic bone pushing against your ass. “Damn baby, should’ve known you were tight”

“Shit, move, please” you beg and you don’t have to look to see the sly grin on the boys face as he pulls back and starts to pound into you. It’s filthy, dirty, and delicious. You should be concerned about no condom, but it’s Mac and you’re on the pill after all. The one guy you’ve known your whole life and trust entirely. You just never assumed you’d trust him in this situation.

“So fucking pretty” Mac murmurs, still pounding into you, your face smushing into the mattress. He lands a swift smack to your ass which has you muffling a yelp into the blankets in front of you. You know mascara is running down your face but your arousal was also running down your legs.

He was hitting all the right place and felt so good. Nothing separating either of you as you finally both did the one thing as best friends you claimed you’d never do. Suddenly his hand is wrapped in your hair and lifting you up to meet his thrusts. You go to whine but are stopped when his free hand reaches around and takes your breast into his hand.

“You like that baby? Me fucking you and holding these pretty tits?” he growls into your ear and in all the times you had pictured Mac in the bedroom you had never pictured him this intense and dirty.

“Yes Mac, wish you were sucking on them” and per your request he’s slipping out of you suddenly. You whine due to the loss of friction but he spins you back around and eases you onto the bed. His dick is red and angry, grazing across his abdomen and wet with your slick. You clench around nothing when he grabs himself at the base and realigns with your entrance. When did Mac get so fucking sexy?

“Such a dirty girl” he mutters with the shake of his head before he’s back inside of you. The moan you let out is pornagraphic and his own muffling haround your breast in seconds. The new angle from him bending down is delightful mixed with the sensation of his mouth taking time with each of your nipples. Now that you think about it, he hasn’t kissed you once since this all started.

“Kiss me Angus” you demand and Mac releases your nipple with a pop before giving you a slight smile. A glimpse of the gentle and kind man you usually know.

This isn’t how first kisses should go. Especially with one of your best friends in the entire world. This should’ve happened when you were fourteen and hiding out in the old treehouse. Not now when he was actually inside of you and you are both too drunk to consider the repercussions of this. Despite all of that Mac leans forward delicately and places his lips against your own. Your hands find your way in his hair again as you kiss him back, lips fitting together like puzzle pieces. Of all the things you expected it to be like it wasn’t this. It wasn’t only good but it was perfect, the best kiss you’ve ever had. Actually so far the best sex you’d ever had and even thought you thought it was wrong, all of it felt right.

“I’ve always wanted to do this” he admits before kissing you deeply again, now rocking his hips slowly with your own. It’s when his tongue slips around your own, you lock your legs around his waist and bring him deeper into you then he has been all night.

Who would’ve thought making out with your best friend could be this fun? When Mac’s hands reach to grope your tits he’s muffling your moan in his own mouth, bringing you both back to the very dirty reality that he was currently inside you raw. Pulling away from your mouth with a heavy pant he moves back into a position where he can thrust faster into you. It’s when he uses your breasts to steady himself and pounds faster into you, do you feel that coil begin to tighten.

“Shit Mac, I’m gonna cum” you gasp, hands steadying yourself on his shoulders as his body pounds yours into the mattress. He uses this response to pick up pace and before you can even register it your orgasm comes lightening fast, squeezing around his cock tightly.

“Fuck baby, got a death grip on me” he says with a stutter to his hips before spilling his load inside of you. Your mind feels fuzzy at the blissful feeling of his cum warming inside of you. You’re turned on all over again when he slowly slides out and watches as you drip his cum out of you.

“Mac” you whine, unsure what you’re asking for but he knows what you want when he takes his still hard cock and uses it to shove that very cum back inside you.

“Gonna have to take all of it baby” he tells you, knowing how overstimulated and sensitive you are. You gasp when his thumb presses lightly against your swollen clit and his dick twitches inside of you from his own orgasm.

When he pulls back out you can’t help but wince at the feeling and his naked form is slowly laying beside you and wrapping his arms around you. You grin when he presses a soft kiss into your neck, because that was the best sex you ever had and it was with Mac. The same guy you should’ve never counted out. Now you were jealous of all those girls he had crushes on growing up because you were too stupid to know exactly what you were missing out on.

The sound of your phone ringing in the morning is piercing when it reaches your head. You can’t help but groan as you fumble in a search for it. You can hardly open your eyes because of how bright the room is, you must’ve forgotten to close the blinds. Finally finding the phone you click answer and hold it up to your ear.

“Hello” you mutter, tired and in no mood to be awake right now.

“Y/N, where’s Mac?” Riley’s familiar voice fills your ears and suddenly your eyes are snapping open because why did you have Mac’s phone? That’s when it hits you. Bozer was with his girlfriend last night, you came to hang out with Mac, and he fucked you. He fucked you hard and good.

“Shit” you say out loud, glancing to your side to find you are in fact in Mac’s bed and he is completely naked beside you.

“Y/N, what’s going on? You weren’t answering your phone and now you’re answering his?” Riley questions and you sigh.

“Nothing, I just fell asleep here and my phone died. Mac is sleeping, what’s up?” you recollect yourself, not wanting to give way to what you and Mac exactly got up to last night.

“Matty needs you both, some new mission, and you’re both already late” she informs you and now you’re in full panic mode.

“Shit!” you say again before hanging up. You’re scrambling out of the bed in seconds, hunting for all your clothes now streamed across the floor of Mac’s room.

“Mac wake up!” you shout, throwing his phone back at him which lands on his stomach with a thud. He’s wincing and looking at you just as you slide your jeans up your legs with no underwear, considering you can’t find it. He blushes almost instantly at the nudity of your upper half which isn’t for long as you clip your bra into place.

“What the hell?” he groans, hands pressing against his head as he takes in his own hangover.

“We’re late for meeting Matty and apparently drank too much last night” you inform him, sliding your shirt over your head. That has him jumping into action as you move to his bathroom to see the disaster of yourself.

It’s bad. Your makeup is smudged under your eyes and hair strewned in places it didn’t belong. Gasping you do your best to wash your face and brush through it with the little things Mac has in here. Giving up and tying your hair on your head you rush back out to a now dressed Mac and ready to go. The worst part is when you realize you had rode with Mac here from the Phoenix last night so now you had to ride back together.

“Should we talk about it?” Mac says after a beat, fingers drumming on his knee as he drives you both in the maroon Jeep.

“Nothing to talk about” you mutter despite there being everything to talk about. It wasn’t just hookup sex or friend with benefits sex. This was dirty, filthy, breed you, you are mine sex. Actually the dirtiest sex you ever had in your life and never expected it to be with Mac of all people.

“Y/N, I can’t just go in there not having talked about this” he pleads, glancing over at you where you have refused to look at him since you got in the car. “You haven’t even looked at me and you’re acting weird. You’re my best friend, I don’t want things to change.

“But they did Mac. That wasn’t the kind of night you pretend didn’t happen. That was intense” you say, finally daring a glance at him where you see the pure desperation in his ocean blue eyes.

“Exactly which is why we should talk about it” he bargains and you sigh with the shake of your head.

“You said last night that you’ve always wanted to kiss me. Was that true or just the sex talking?” you finally cave and you don’t miss the way Mac’s hands grip the steering wheel. You’ve known each other your whole lives after all. You know all his tells.

“It was true. If you think at any point in my life I never had a crush on you, you’re crazy. Most girls didn’t talk to me and Bozer until high school. But you, you were always there” Mac says, eyes trained on the road but you also know he doesn’t want to look you in the eye when he admits this.

“When did you like me like that?” you ask and he lightly chuckles to himself.

“When we were thirteen. You came to my birthday party in a purple sundress and gave me an engineering book that you thought I might like. I kept telling myself I didn’t like you but when I smashed cake in your face and you laughed instead of cried, I fell in love while I picked the pieces of frosting out of your hair” he says and your stomach summersaults at the story he recalls from his own point of view. You remembered that birthday.

“Of course it was” you mutter and Mac furrows his eyebrows as he quickly glances at you.

“Why’s that?” he questions and you roll your eyes.

“Because that was the first time since I was ten I got over my crush on you, told myself it’ll never happen” and then Mac is laughing like you’ve just told him the funniest thing in the world.

“Who replaced me? Bozer?” he questions when his laughter quiets down and you roll your eyes.

“No, Brendan Fraser actually which I still find completely fair” you tell him and he laughs again, remembering how you made him watch Encino man for the entirety of that school year.

“So you’re telling me that we’ve been friends for our entire lives and somehow kept missing each other until now?” he questions and you shrug, thinking of all the times you ever felt romantically towards the boy beside you. There was the time you mentioned, once in high school when he dumped his prom date to take you when you didn’t get asked, and when he dropped out to join the army. You had been so scared of losing him you found all those old feelings coming back. Somehow after all these years your feelings both lined up and the result was last night. No wonder it was so intense.

“Apparently so blondie” you respond with a nickname you have used since childhood and Mac shakes his head as you flip the visor mirror down and fix your hair again.

Pulling into the Phoenix parking lot you pray that no one questions the way either of you look despite Mac looking much better than you at the moment. Your heart has doubled in speed by the time Mac reached his normal spot and goes to shift the car in park. Flipping the visor up, you’re reaching for the door on your quick escape, but Mac’s hand on your arm stops you.

“Wait” and then with the strength you didn’t discover until last night, he’s pulling you towards him and kissing you quickly. Once the immediate shocks goes away you lightly kiss him back, it not as filthy as the one you shared the night before but just as nice.

“What was that for?” you ask once he pulls away, eyes still closed as he lets the weight of your kiss sink in.

“I just wanted to make sure that what I felt last night was real” he says and now your heart is beating heavily for him. You had felt it too, in fact you’d never felt anything like it until last night.

“It was real Mac, all of it” you tell him and his eyes open, blinking into focus as he takes all of your features in.

“Can we not pretend this didn’t happen because there is no way I can go back to normal after this?” he asks and you sigh, eyes glancing over his own features as well and you realize that even if a relationship could jeopardize your friendship it was still him. The same boy you’ve loved a hundred different times and ways in your life, and if it was ever going to work with anybody it would be him.

“Fine, but you should know I don’t sleep with people on first dates” you say and he snorts, hands squeezing at your waist as he still keeps you pulled against the center console.

“Good to know but does it technically count as our first date? If you include Prom and that one party in college I’d say it is about our third” he says and you giggle and shake your head, cheeks warming over as you face the boy beside you.

“Our third date. I could possibly let third base slide but we’ll see” you tell him and he grins.

“I’ll take it” he says and you shake you head before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips and hopping out of the car.

“Last one in is a rotten egg!” you call out, rushing for the Phoenix doors and Mac jumps into action. Grabbing his keys and rushing out the car behind you. Yet he was going to let you win, just like he did when he was thirteen, and you’d race him into school.

At least this time he knows when he finishes the race he still gets to keep you.

Taglist: @mayfieldss @paigewinchester67 (I saw you liking my MacGyver posts today so here is a small treat)

[minkdelovely]

kinktober — day XXI

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It is my honor and privilege to provide you little devils with the schedule for Week Four of Kinktober, put together by our dear @hazelfoureyes! I hope you’ve all been enjoying yourselves so far — idk about the rest of y’all but it’s been an eye-opening month for me! Who said an old dog can’t learn new tricks? 🤭❤️‍🔥

If you’ve missed any — or are looking to binge read some smut — please be sure to check out the masterlist I have linked below that @synamartia has graciously been maintaining for us 🙏🏻

And without further ado, here is my fourth offering to you all. I’ll see y’all again on Sunday! ♥️

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prompt: size kink

sanctuary

“let me satisfy your soul.

i’m not a saint

but do i have to be?”

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Alastor x Lucifer ; RadioApple ; MDNI 18+

tags/warnings: top!alastor x bottom!lucifer (or is it? hehe), alastor is down bad, luci worship, very brief mention of blood and viscera (yk, just horny cannibalistic demon things) 🕊️✨

word count: 1.2k

summary: alastor gets sentimental about how much he loves how small lucifer is.

author’s note: hello darlings! i am once again pushing my romantic radioapple agenda. while i never set out to instill a rose-colored haze, i nevertheless hope you enjoy. in regard to my agenda, well… it will happen again. quote is from holy ghost by børns — and this falls under my previous warning; don’t be surprised if you see it again in the future lol

coven: @fraugwinska @hazelfoureyes @macabr3-barbi3 @sugoi-writes @synamartia 🕯️♥️

the coven's kinktober masterlist

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“You’re so fucking small,” Alastor groaned.

It wasn’t a new observation, by any means. In fact, it was one of the first that Alastor made mention of when he and Lucifer met all those months ago.

You are much shorter in real life!

Typically, a comment on Lucifer’s stature was just an impudent barb to throw at the King. A sure-fire way of pissing him off whenever Alastor felt like seeing that smug look on Lucifer’s face wiped clear off. Replacing it with one he found much more attractive: anger.

Lucifer didn’t always take the bait though, so Alastor had learned to measure the usage of this weapon. There were still plenty of other ways to achieve the same result. Knocking Lucifer’s hat off his blonde bouffant the other morning had been particularly enjoyable. He really did look so much better without that garish thing he dared to call a fashion choice. 

But right now it wasn’t an insult.

Alastor was slightly propped up on some pillows, admiring the pretty King of Hell whine from his words as he bounced on his cock. It was a sentiment Alastor had felt many times, lost in the awe inspiring sight that was Lucifer in the throes of passion. That golden glow radiating from under his skin like a divine beacon he couldn’t ignore even if he wanted to. Pillowy wings extended on either side of them, and Alastor loved the way they tickled his thighs with their light touch.

In these moments, Lucifer seemed almost fragile. 

His lean, petite frame was easily held in Alastor’s hands. He had them on that delectable waist now, the tips of his fingers laced behind Lucifer’s back. Alastor wasn’t directing the angel’s pace, instead he was relishing the feeling of Lucifer under his touch. Soft alabaster skin, strong muscles flexing underneath; dew drops of sweat that Lucifer benevolently created to bead from pores that didn’t previously exist, solely because Alastor had complained over it once. How unfair it was for him to be the only one dripping with effort, and worse still, losing out on a facet of Lucifer that only he was allowed to indulge in. 

What a marvel it had been when Alastor felt the slick perspiration the next time they copulated. How the sweet and acrid scent of it filled his nostrils and made his mouth salivate. Somehow managing to taste even better than it smelled when he ran his tongue up the length of Lucifer’s body. Needing only to straighten the arch of his back to elongate himself and complete the path from belly to neck, finishing off with a flourish of his tongue along Lucifer’s throat and the underside of his chin. 

Alastor’s head fell backward, his jaw hanging open to let out an unrestrained moan just remembering it. He really was so spoiled.

“You feel like glass under my fingers,” Alastor panted, tightening his grip on Lucifer as if he meant to test the theory. His ears and cock twitched as Lucifer cursed wantonly, sinking down to grind himself against Alastor’s pelvis. Lucifer’s walls fluttered, managing against all odds to squeeze him even tighter. “Fuck, you take me so well for such a tiny thing…”

The words were husky in this throat, thick with lust and static. Part of him couldn’t believe his raw honesty nor how the words seemed to pour so easily from his mouth. Moaning again as Lucifer cried out his name, droplets of arousal falling onto Alastor’s stomach; his muscles tensing in reaction to the heat and weight of them. 

“I want to see you fall apart…want you to use me until you cum,” he continued, hissing as Lucifer’s hands left his chest to clasp over his own the best they could. His pace invigorated by Alastor’s words.

How delicate those hands were. Dark and graceful, with long slender fingers that could tear him to shreds if he so wished. Alastor felt, as well as heard, his antlers creak; branching out as the image of Lucifer’s pristine, radiant skin covered in his blood and viscera flashed in his mind. Mercifully, he managed not to climax, silently chastising himself for almost finishing first over a fantasy after his admission of wanting to be used. 

“Fuck baby, what’s gotten into you?” Lucifer’s voice was whiny and just above a whisper, but he was glowing with pride. Rolling his hips and clenching around Alastor’s cock with a familiar determination. “Can’t wait to cum on your cock. Gonna milk you fucking dry…”

Alastor groaned and bit his lip, the sharp taste of copper on his tongue as his climax inched closer and closer. Normally he wasn’t this affected when Lucifer spoke this way, the vulgarity of it making him feel more embarrassed than inspired. But this is precisely what he wanted now. To be used by his love as nothing more than a vessel for his pleasure. It was within his power, as all things were.

Lucifer’s hands tightened over his own, which still encompassed that slight waist. His movements were becoming stuttered but Alastor refused to guide, writhing in the blissful agony of anticipation. His resolve was put to the final test as Lucifer took one of Alastor’s hands and brought it to his member, his own hand remaining on top as Alastor began to stroke with an even tempo. Squeezing the tip a little harder in his palm in the way he knew Lucifer enjoyed before moving back down.

The room was filled with nothing but the blended sounds of their affection, until finally Lucifer screamed, wings fluttering as he slammed down onto Alastor’s hips as his orgasm peaked. Alastor didn’t even notice the hot release in his hand, his eyes drinking in the vision before him. Disheveled, sweaty blonde hair framing Lucifer’s ethereal face. Mouth open to reveal sharp teeth and a forked tongue between gasps for breath and the velvet sound of his voice. The vice grip of his walls shuddered around Alastor’s length as he quickly followed suit, spilling into Lucifer’s heat with a relieved cry. Both of their chests heaving to catch their breath as their bodies twitched and jerked from sensitivity and delight.

Slowly, Alastor lifted Lucifer off him, both of them groaning a little from the loss. Lucifer waved his hand absently to whisk away their mess as he climbed down from his seat in Alastor’s lap, taking refuge on his tufted chest while Alastor’s fingers gently carded through his plumes. Their body heat mingled as their breaths evened out and synced, and Alastor couldn’t help the hum of contentment that vibrated through his chest, earning a sleepy chuckle from Lucifer.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Lucifer concurred, burrowing himself further in Alastor’s embrace. 

Alastor stifled a laugh as he felt Lucifer’s tail eagerly wrap itself around his left thigh, the tickle catching him off-guard but the feeling of security more than wanted. He kept up the grooming of Lucifer’s wings as a comfortable silence settled over them, quickly punctuated by the deep, even sound of Lucifer’s breathing.

If Alastor enjoyed sleep as much as Lucifer did, he would be jealous of the angel’s ability to fall under in what seemed like mere seconds. Instead, he gazed down at the relaxed, statuesque face on his chest, his immortal heart swelling just underneath it. Beating as both a lullaby and a vow of his ardent devotion. 

His whole world encapsulated in this small, resilient, all-powerful form that he was lucky enough to provide sanctuary for.

“Pleasant dreams, mon ange. I shall be here when you wake.”

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banner by @synamartia

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmiccandydreamer, @hyperfixations-keep-me-going, @cherry-cola-100, @wonderlandangelsposts, @catticora, @velvette3, @sailorsmouth, @reath-solia, @junieshohoho, @cxrsedwxrlds, @littlebluefishtail, @nxcxllxsevens, @swagkittybear

[skele-bunny]

Thinking about Copia loving on his ghouls.... (Copia/Ghouls)

CW - Lactation kink, Religious kink, branding, (light) Whips

Sorry for no Ghoulettes </3 just simply not in the mood today

Copia & Dew: To say Dew loves Copia is an understatement. He's obsessed with Copia, everything to do about him. Loves worshipping him, and for once is so obedient to his commands and task, looking up while he deep throat his Master. Of course, there's the few times he will act up. But that's always quickly changed with the crack of a whip against Dew's back, making him beg for forgiveness. He's edged for so long when he acts up, just needing more of that leather glove around his cock... Hence why he doesn't act up so much! Loves getting back shots from Papa, always bottoms for him but every few moons they'll switch.

Copia & Aether: Soft little things they are. Aether takes his time spreading his Papa out, kissing at his neck and purring - Aether will even trim his nails down for it! Nice and slow thrusts with kisses being shared, Copia's hand touching down Aether's large chest and resting right on his stomach. Aether keeps whispering about how lucky he is for his divine to let him do this, to fuck him so tenderly. He loves jerking Copia off in sync with his thrusts, and when he gets to knot him? Amazing. Aether's knot was the first ghoul dick Copia's ever taken and is still his favorite! Aether sat on his face ONCE and Copia every time requests it when they have intercourse.

(Extra) Dewther & Copia: These two tag team him CONSTANTLY. They sandwich Copia between them, their hands traveling and riling their Papa up. Dew usually initiates cause he loves getting on his knees for Copia, always a fucking tease about it too - and then behind Aether is slowly spreading him with lube. They always end up in a form of train, Dew always as the "first" bottom, Copia in the middle fucking and getting fucked, Aether on top. They're found in his bed together back at the ministry a good chunk, just purring and cuddling.

Copia & Rain: Now, Rain can nurse, everyone knows that at this point. Copia isn't spared from lightly knocking on the water ghoul's door, albeit rare. Rain always welcomes him in, gets them nice and comfortable after stripping. Slowly leading Copia to his most swollen tit first, then their legs get intertwined and they rest there. Occasionally, Rain will cockwarm him during, but always ends up riding his Papa to show his gratitude. Sometimes before shows in the greenroom, Copia will pull Rain to the side just to tweak his nipples while doing him from behind. "Calms the nerves" he says. For a while, during intermission Rain and Copia would disappear until a few minutes left for break

Copia & Swiss: They don't really do much together alone, but when they do; it always makes Copia feel better with laughter. Swiss is a big jokester and tease, always comforting Copia while he's going down on him. Swiss will flip flop on bottoming or topping for Copia, really depends on Papa's mood. They're both left satisfied each time though! During "holy hour" Swiss loves riding Copia while the others watch, mainly because during this they get rebranded and Swiss knows how much Copia loves it when he tightens around his cock when the hot iron touches him. Little fucking freak and constantly gets toys involved

Copia & Mountain: Big guy has a huge thing for Copia when he's in full Papa mode. His booming voice during sermons, how his leather gloves touches Mountain's tongue and caresses his jawline with communion bread, and the confessional booth? Mountain is snuggled up with with Copia, being as quiet as he can while he sucks him off, listening to Papa's heavy voice whispering to the other side of scriptures and advice. Arousal. Mountain has been fingered by him while he practices tomorrow's sermon, cumming so quickly with their scripture being fed to him. It doesn't help sometimes Papa will lean into his ear and whisper a prayer to him.

Copia & Phantom: Every newly summon has a stage where they're just craving for their Papa, and Phantom is very much in that stage. It's more active during tour when they're around each other constantly, Phantom wiggling his way into Papa's bunk. His cunt is always so, so wet for Copia, loves getting eaten out by him and fingered. Has a thing for riding Copia rather than other positions, mainly because Papa will move his hands up to grab his breasts while fucking up into him - or his fingers will circle Phantom's clit when he bounces. Only downside is Copia can't keep up LMAO, that old man can go maybe three rounds and he's done for, but Phantom doesn't mind waiting as long as he's pressed right against Copia the entire time.

Holy Hour: All Papa's have certain rituals with their ghouls, one being "Holy Hour." Being caressed and eventual consummation. This is a time where pack dynamics are irrelevant, no pack leaders, no types, nothing. They're focused on their Papa and only their Papa. Copia does have a preference for Rain, Phantom, Aurora, and Cumulus being first - then the others. This is when they're branded again both physically and bodily, completely linked to their Papa. Some of them are little FREAKS about being burned, especially Dew.

When Copia needs a break in-between, he loves having his ghouls near him pleasuring each other while he watches. Phantom and Aurora love being right against him, panting and moaning on his neck n chest. Their "Papa stage" being satisfied by it. After their Holy Hour, they'll end up in a ghoul pile with Copia right in the middle, everyone has some form out grab on him. Soft purrs, scenting, and occasionally the whines of one of them being satisfied again.

Always brings them closer to their Papa :D

[moodymisty]

Everyone wants Lorgar carnally until he says grace before giving head. Or when he recites verses that describe the world’s beauty while he gently caresses your body. Or when you’re having sex and he starts whimpering prayers upon prayers about how wonderful you are, how much he loves you, how he wants you so badly, how he’s utterly yours (he’s not even doing it deliberately, it’s like singing your praises is second nature to him). Or after you’ve finished, when he lies down on your bed and looks at you with complete and total reverence. You can see that in this moment, to him, you are the only thing that’s real. The lamp on his desk is illuminating you like a halo, or maybe it’s not even the lamp at all, maybe it’s just you. Lorgar wouldn’t even question it if that was the case, because who is he to question what true holiness is?

In his gaze there’s more than just a lovers adoration. To him you’re not a mere mortal. He looks at you as if you’re the sun itself, like you could fly up to the very heavens and rip the stars from their foundations. His trust placed in you so wholeheartedly that if you decided to smite him for the simple crime of existing, he would let you, he would even thank you for it.

But you love him far too much to even think those thoughts. You cup the side of his face and feel as he leans into your touch. You don’t know it, but if in this very moment you told him to renounce his faith, renounce his loyalty to the emperor, and worship you and only you. He would, without a doubt, say yes.

… Well. I think I might’ve gotten a little too carried away here lmao

Oh hey thanks for the fucking feast, excuse me while I go apeshit with my religious undertones/trauma kink

also @thevoidscreams thanks for the inspo as well fam

Warnings: NSFW, Religious undertones, Body worship

The desert becomes so cold at night, the sand sometimes freezes with little sparkles of dew, reminding you of the snow of your distant home planet.

But despite the frigid air of a Colchis drowned in dark you couldn't feel hotter, skin aglow with the sheen of sweat- lips parted in a pant.

"Lorgar, Lorgar..."

Sometimes his name leaves your mouth as a whisper, sometimes a yell, but it seems as if he can hear neither. It's like he's in a trance, head between your legs for what's felt like and more than likely has been hours.

Your thighs are covered in lovebites, little scratches, redness where he's gripped too tight in his enthusiasm and you've had to pry at his hands and plead for him to stay gentle with you, remind him that you're fragile, as his eyes look at you with reverence.

Sometimes the way he looks at you is almost too much; Too much like worship, the way he lowers himself to press his head between your thighs and whisper so many sweet nothings. So much of it is incomprehensible, speaking in tongues as he presses you into the massive ocean of a bed meant for someone far larger.

You’ve never felt as bared as you have in these moments, like he’s taking every bit of you and some from somewhere beyond.

“By the gods, you look so beautiful… No art, writing or tapestry could ever hold a candle to you like this…”

He could do this for hours, sometimes he has, and while you know he has to in order to prepare you for what’s to come, he takes more than plenty of pleasure in it.

His creation didn’t consider something as frivolous of this; His body wasn’t meant for yours. But you’ve made it work nonetheless, forced it to.

He hears your pitiful whine and hoarse cry as you come against his mouth, desperately grabbing at his hand smothering your stomach and keeping you pressed down in place. He whispers and praises like you’re singing a song just for him, music to his ears.

You could stop here and be satisfied, more than so, but you know that he has so much more he wishes to give you. These moments are rare, but when you manage to steal them he indulges in you until the sun rises and you’re begging for rest. At least a days worth, usually no one sees much of you for a few days after such an evening.

His mouth pulls away from you, his body rises to hover over yours and the difference in your bodies has you swallowed in his shadow, though he only sees you surrounded in light. Your skin glows, lips parted and seemingly beckoning him in.

There’s been nothing more beautiful to him in his life than you, in this moment.

He doesn’t know why he resisted this for so long, though perhaps he should’ve, because now there’s nothing in the galaxy he wants more.

“My love, my little goddess, please, let me…”

You grit your teeth as he presses his way inside of you, a balance teetering just before true pain as you feel the threat of his body weight against your hips and thighs. There isn't much space for your legs to go, they can't truly part wide enough for someone as massive as Lorgar, and so they press into your stomach like he's going to fold you in half.

Throughout it all he speaks as if you’re his gift, as if you’re a beautiful star made manifest.

His whispers his prayers his pleading becomes more desperate until he finishes inside of you, feeling his hot skin against your own.

When his body lays beside yours, he’s looks upon your tired form with reverence. With the same shine in his eyes when he reads his gospel or writes a verse. You wonder if one day it will ever become too much, or if you’ll come crashing down from the pedestal he’s put you on.

“I love you, my dear. More than any other man that has spoken those words. I will pluck any star you desire out of the sky, conquer any planet, or bring anyone to heel just for you.”

You might wish to tell him not to, but the words don’t leave your lips. He kisses you, takes those words from you and leaves you breathless as his hand cups your jaw, and he begins to pray to you once more.

[chapel-of-rizztual]

can i please request some early days hurt/comfort raindrop... maybe like not long after dews element change and hes still dealing with all the changes idk dealers choice but thank youuuu 🖤💙

Rain stood nervously outside Dew’s bedroom. He’d been staring at the patterns in the wood of the door for so long now they’d made his eyes go blurry. It was Dew’s first night back from the infirmary, and while Rain desperately wanted to see him, he wasn’t sure if Dew wanted to see him. He’d only let Mountain and Aether see him when he was in the infirmary, so why would now be any different? 

He took a deep breath, composing himself, and knocks on the door. He pushes the door open slightly. 

“Dew?” 

There’s a small groan from inside and Rain pushes the door fully open, stepping inside the room. It’s dark. And warm. Unholy hell it was hot, the warmth practically hits Rain in the face.

“Dew? I’m sorry if you don’t want to see me, but-I just- I needed to see if you were okay.” 

The Dew shaped lump on the bed moves.

“Rain? Is that you?” His head pops up form under the covers and he squints into the darkness. 

“Yeah. Yeah it’s me. Just checking in on you, been so worried about you.” 

Dew shifts up on the bed, wincing a little, tapping the space next to him.

“Come lie with me? I’ve missed you.” 

Rain eagerly steps towards the bed, excited to finally be with Dew again after weeks of not seeing him. He stops dead in his tracks, just shy of the bed, noticing the scars on Dew’s neck and chest. 

“Holy shit, what did they do to you?” 

Dew looks up at him with wide eyes, pulling the covers all the way up to his chin self consciously.

“They-uh- they had to-“ 

Rain pulls the covers off Dew, gasping as he see the scars more up close. 

“They fucking closed up your gills. They stitched them up, how could they do that?” 

Dew shrugs.

“Not like I really need them anymore.” 

“Did they-“ Rain cuts himself off with a gasp, grabbing at Dew’s hand. 

“They took your webbing too.” He gently runs a finger over the scars in between Dew’s fingers. 

“Aether says my scars are healing well.” 

And the way he says that like it’s something to be proud of, like he is proud of it makes Rain's chest tighten with something uncomfortable. 

“But-but how will you swim now?” 

Dew avoids eye contact, looking all around the room. 

“I-uh- I won’t. I’m fire now. I don’t need to swim anymore.” 

Rain feels his heart breaking. 

“But-but swimming together was our thing. We always go the the lake to swim and watch the sunset.” 

Tears well in Dew’s eyes. 

“I know.” His voice breaks. “I’m sorry.” 

Rain feels his heart shattering even more. 

“Oh Dew. Please don’t cry.” He climbs under the covers as gently as he could, not wanting to hurt Dew anymore. “This isn’t your fault, droplet, please don’t cry.”

He pulls Dew into his arms, resting the ghouls head on his chest. The warmth coming off Dew was sweltering, wrapping around Rain like a too tight hug. 

“You’re so warm now. It’s like I’m hugging Ifrit.” He whispers. 

Dew sniffles into his chest, looking up at him with wet eyes. 

“Yeah. Body temperatures gone up and all that. Alpha said I’ll get warmer as well, I just need time to adjust.” 

“Alpha has seen you?” Rain tried his hardest not to sound jealous at the thought of Dew asking to see Alpha instead of him. 

Dew nods.

“He said he’d mentor me in fire.” He looks back up at Rain. “Like I did with you.” 

Rain pulls Dew closer to him a little possessively.

“That was nice of him.” 

Dew giggles. 

“If you didn’t sound so jealous I might actually believe you mean that.” 

Rain whines, his head rolling back onto the pillow.

“I do mean it, I promise. But I haven’t seen you in almost month, I’m allowed to be a little clingy.” 

Dew hums, pushing his gave deeper into Rains chest. 

“I’ve missed you too, tadpole.” 

Dew looks back up at him, at the same time Rain looks down at him. Whatever Rain was going to say dies on his tongue.

“Hey, your eyes have changed too. Well, one of them has.” 

Dew’s eyes were normally an icy blue, almost white, but now his left eye had been replaced with a fiery copper colour. 

Dew carefully ran a finger around his left eye, whining a little as he did. 

“Got burnt in the change. Can’t really see out of it anymore.” 

Rain feels shock run all through his body. 

“You can’t see out of it?” He takes Dew’s face in his hand, looking into his eye. It’s only then that he noticed a slight cloudiness to it. 

Dew shakes his head. 

“Not well. Everything’s all cloudy and blurry.” He yawns. “Do you mind if I go back to sleep? I’m so tired all the time.” 

Rain presses a kiss to Dew’s forehead, noting the change in his scent as well. 

“Sure, Darling. You need to rest.” He presses another kiss. “Maybe later, if you feel up to it, we can go to the roof. Watch the sunset from there? Maybe that can be our new spot?” 

Dew hums.

“Yeah, sounds good.” He slurs half asleep already. 

Rain holds the sleeping ghoul close to him protectively, feeling the lump in his throat rise. He promised himself that he wouldn’t cry over his, that this was a change that Dew had already accepted so he had to as well. But as he lay there, clutching the now new fire ghoul, with tears steaming down his face, he wasn’t sure if this was a change he was ready to accept. 

[wrathofrats]

Another extremely accurate post of me guessing your personality based on your fav ghoul, but I’m nicer this time!

Mountain: you bitches terrify me. Like I’m a good way. Mostly very chill people, just kinda wanting to get their work done and go, but when it comes to that tall ass piece of meat?? Holy fuck y’all go crazy. Insane. Feral. Y’all rival the Swiss people which is so funny to be considering how mountain is headcanoned to be. Also I think you’re a good baker idk why.

Rain: ahhh!! Y’all are very sweet. Sassy but usually very sweet. Calm, don’t have much to say until you have a burning desire to see a fish in a dress. But all you wanna do is dress up your pretty little ghoul and vibe. Very artistic people. Some of y’all have a weird sadism streak tho and I’m concerned for you!!! You remind me of like a 5 year old whispering to their parents in the middle of the night that they’re going to skin mom. But affectionately

Aether: the absolute sweetest people. Genuinely very kind and cares for others I love y’all so much. Just wants to see everyone be happy and tell stupid jokes. Your fav color is like yellow or purple I’m almost positive. Your love language is touch and words of affirmation. Y’all don’t have much to say but you’re such a ray of sunshine kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss

Dew: babe ………. Babe. I love you. This is the most self destructive answer. I think we need to stop consuming caffeine and let’s instead maybe see a therapist. You’re so fun, and funny. You’re a little shit (affectionately) people love you a lot more than you think. How about we learn to accept compliments? And maybe how to sit down? But you’re very entertaining!!!

Swiss: alright you stupid cunt. Funniest fucking people ever. Also horniest people ever. Y’all are great leaders, usually have bold personalities. Life of the party. But also let’s learn how to be nice to others. Bullying those we love is not a valid love language but you’re very very funny so, give and take I guess. Also youre hot you must be I don’t make the rules. 

Cumulus: sweetest people also. Mom friend. I know you probably have a giant purse that you keep candy and ibuprofen in. Let’s maybe learn to put the air mask on ourselves before others? Usually fairly shy but it’s ok I love you. You look amazing in a sundress, and you’re like the least judge mental person ever. I’m feeding you a strawberry rn let me know if you receive it

Cirrus: god YOURE HOT. You’re so fucking confident. You are here to tell people what to do and get shit done, and every listens to you. You’re the plan maker. Here’s the itinerary and if you don’t like it figure something else out. You give good solid and very honest advice

Sunny: ohhh my sweet summer child. You’re a lot! I love you for it! You want to do everything all the time and know everything about everything, so so very curious. You ate glue as a child, affectionately. But it’s ok! You’re adorable and very yellow coded. Probably eats dessert before dinner, you absolutely have a sweet tooth.

Phantom: hey another dumbass, affectionately. Put down the fucking green hair dye. PUT IT DOWN. Y’all are golden retriever people, usually just very happy to be here. Puts on a badass face but very nice and usually kinda chill. Cargo shorts and pants are not the only fashion choices if you were not already aware, but it’s ok you’ll grow out of it!

Aurora: you’re so cute!! Probably a bit mean, very much a princess. Prissy and wants what they want when they want it. But you know being kind is cool and usually wanna sit and listen to other people.

[farter-imperator]

It's 2am, have a 678 word ficlet about Cumulus riding Dew's tdick.

"Oh, fuck…"

A soft, melodic whine rang out around Dew's bedroom. 

"S-Shit." Was the responding grunt. "Didn't think I'd…" 

"But you did." Cumulus giggled. 

She was above Dew, her hands rested on his shoulders as he laid back on the bed. She was seated on his lap, sitting still for the moment. 

They'd been teasing each other for hours, and they'd finally had enough of skirting around it. Especially when Cumulus had held Dew's cock between two fingers and murmured so sweetly that it looked big enough for her to ride now. 

And that's exactly what she was doing. 

Although Dew's cock was only a few inches long, it was thick. Gorgeous, Cumulus had said. 

"Do you want me to move?" She asked softly, though both of them were still in slightly stunned silence over the fact that Dew's cock was actually in her. 

"Yeah. Fuck, yeah, Lus. C'mon." Dew groaned. He reached down, giving her ass a slap of encouragement. "Ride it." 

That was all the encouragement Cumulus needed. She started off by grinding, rolling her hips in wide circles, a sadistic smile on her lips any time she felt Dew's cock pulse inside of her. 

"Mmh, fuck, Dewy…" Cumulus moaned, letting her head fall back, her platinum curls cascading down her spine. "You feel so good…" 

"Never thought I'd be in you." He admitted, gripping a handful of her thigh and kneading it. He rolled his hips to match hers, causing them both to gasp. "Fffffuck. Take it, Lus… *

"You feel better than Aether." Cumulus breathed, her hips bucking against Dew's mons. "Better than Mountain, too. All- all this time, I've been settling for them and you've been right here, honey." 

"Belial… Really? You think I'm better than Aeth and Mounty?" Dew sat up slightly, resting on his forearms. "You're not just saying that?" 

"I'm not just saying that." Cumulus promised. She leaned down, pressing her lips to Dew's as she moved from rolling her hips to instead bouncing on his cock. Again, the pair moaned in unison, muffled by their kiss. 

Dew was the first to pull away. He needed to watch Cumulus riding him. Him. Not a strap. She was actually riding him. 

And fuck, it felt good. 

Above him, Cumulus had one arm over her chest to keep her breasts from bouncing too much. Her other hand had snaked to between her legs, her fingertips pressing and rolling over her clit. She made the most beautiful whines and moans. 

"M'not gonna last long." Dew warned, then bucked his hips with a grunt. He reached up to steady himself with one hand around the headboard, the other hand still groping at Cumulus' softness. "Fuck, faster, Lus…" 

"Faster?" Cumulus hummed in contemplation. She lifted her hips painfully slowly, laughing at the way that Dew cried out in protest, then slammed into his lap again and started bouncing quicker. "Like this?" 

"Shit! Oh, fuck, Lussy… Fuck yeah, that's-" He threw his head back against the pillow and bucked up into her again. "Haaah- Lus-" 

"Close?" Cumulus panted. She knew she certainly was. She bounced as quickly as she could, her thighs burning, the bed squeaking loudly under them. She was sure there was a puddle of their combined slick under them. 

"Gonna come!" Dew managed to strain out, his face screwing up. A few moments later, his body tensed. His back arched as he pulsed inside Cumulus, and came outside of her. "Fuuuck!" 

Cumulus moved back to grinding, though it was at a much quicker pace this time. She soon followed suite from Dew, gasping and shuddering through her own orgasm. She bit her lip, her head tipping down, her hair framing her face. 

"Fuck." Dew panted after a long moment of catching their breath. "Lucifer, fuck. That was… Holy shit." 

"Mm, that was… That was…" Cumulus failed to find the words. She fell forwards, chest to chest with Dew, and wrapped her arms around his waist. "We're definitely doing that again, okay?" 

"Okay, Lus." Dew breathed, pressing his nose into her neck and inhaling her scent. "I love you." 

"I love you too, droplet." 

[ladylooch]

There is so much of T & Em's relationship to explore, so many moments with baby Lee, I don't want to pass it on to them with even more children (🤭🫣), but Timo, a girl's dad fixing the baby's hair and buying little pink clothes put me in combustion

We bounce around plenty, so we will definitely be back to the three of them. But let's go visit life with Liv for a bit.

"Babe?" Emma comes rushing into the closet where I am buttoning my pants together. She looks so gorgeous, I physically can't move for a minute. Her teal dress accents all the curves I like to run my hands over. Her hair is back to blonde with this honey dew glow that begs for my fingers through it. The guests at this wedding are going to have a hard time not looking at her. Fuck, I'm going to have a hard time not looking at her.

"Holy shit, Em. You are... stunning." She blushes, laughing and closing her eyes for a moment.

"That made me feel good."

"It should. Wow." I reach for her fingers, stroking the back of her hand with my thumb. I tug and she falls into my chest. I tighten my arms around her until she can't move. She whines.

"No, no, no. We don't have time and I need your help."

"Okay?"

"Lee is having a meltdown and is demanding cuddles on the couch. Can you please finish dressing Liv and fixing her hair." I widen my eyes and release my wife.

"I'm a little out of my element with that. Can I take Lee?"

"No. He insisted on me." I scrunch my nose.

"Why doesn't he want me?"

"Sometimes, you just need your mom." She leans up to kiss my lips, rushing away entirely too soon. "Liv is on our bed for you." 

"Ooooookay." I trail off, stuffing my arms into my button up. I work on my buttons as I walk into the room. Our daughter is in the center of the bed in only a diaper, staring at the TV. It's some toddler TV show I always get wrong. "Hi beautiful." I murmur, reaching for her. 

"Dadadadada." She immediately babbles. 

"Yeah? Then what happened?" I ask her, tickling her little belly. I reach down, blowing a raspberry into her plumped skin. She giggles, reaching for my head and patting at it. "Patty cake huh? Maybe we can do that while we get dressed, yeah? But where did mommy put your dress?" I wonder, scanning the room. I find it on Emma's velvet chaise by the window. "Oh, Liv you're gonna look so pretty in this. And you're gonna match your hot mama." 

I put Liv into a sitting position on the bed again, chuckling as she keeps trying to make a break for it by crawling away.

"Hey!" I pretend to yell, grabbing her ankle and pulling her gently back to me. She shrieks in excitement, giggles shaking her little body. I finally pull the tulle and silk over her head. She immediately begins to ball the skirt up in her little hands, shaking her head.

“No.”

“Yeah, baby.” 

“No.” She starts to wail, getting frustrated.

I power through, ignoring the part of me that wants to appease her. She will be fine and is working through some frustration with textures right now. The doctor says it’s normal. Lio never went through anything like this, but that’s been the story with our second child. Her and her brother are nothing alike.

“Baby!” I exclaim when she’s all zipped together. “You are the most beautiful baby girl in the entire world.” I smooch at her cheeks as I gather her back into my arms. “Lee and I are lucky to be walking in with our gorgeous girls.” I scan her light brown hair, noting the way it holds static electricity and shoots out in the back. “Mama said do your hair… and I have no clue. So this seems like a headband thing… except if I put a headband on you, you are going to scream.” I bite my lip beginning to wander into Liv’s room next to ours to see what my options are. 

Liv grips at my jaw as we walk. She leans forward, beginning to mouth at my cheek.

“Mmm thank you.” She just learned to give kisses from Lio, so she likes to lick at people’s faces now, thinking they’re kisses. “Little less tongue tho, baby. We don’t want the boys getting the wrong idea.” 

“No.” She says with excitement. I snort on my laughter.

I scan the various hair accessories Emma has in the top drawer of Liv’s dresser. It is all headbands and hair clips. Liv’s hair isn’t long enough for anything else except maybe a rat tail at the base of her skull. Emma Meier would kill me if I brought her downstairs like that.

“Since I value my life, hair clip it is.” I reach for one with a daisy on it, then set Liv on top of the dresser, to put it in place. I swoop her hair back on the right side, then put the clip in. It looks good enough to me. “Okay, now daddy has to finish getting ready.”

I hold Liv on my hip while I do the finishing touches on my wedding look. When I’m done, I grab my suit jacket and head downstairs to join Em and Lio. Our son’s teary face is munched into Emma’s cleavage watching TV. She strokes her fingers through his hair, lip pressing there every so often.

“How we doing?” I ask, running a hand over Lio’s back. “We feeling brave, buddy?” 

“Yeah.” He responds, pushing up from Emma. “Mama said Lucie is coming.”

“She is.” I confirm. The wedding is for a fellow teammate and Nico is a groomsman. “But you’re going to have to be good during the ceremony, okay?” 

“Yeah, mama told me.” Emma stands, wiggling her skirt back into place. I offer her my arm, wrapping a hand around her waist as she slips back into her black pumps. She smiles, then frowns when she sees Liv.

“Okay. Hair is not your thing.”

“What? What is wrong with it?” 

“Babe, just because the hair clip is attached to her hair doesn’t mean it looks good.” She reaches for our daughter. “Mommy will fix it.” She coos.

I’m too busy looking at the sway of her ass to even be mad.

“You tell mama she looked pretty?” I ask Lio, running a hand over his hair.

“Yeah. Then she left stuff on my cheek.” He points to where her pink lipstick is smudged into his cheek. Lucky kid.

“Trust me, one day, you’ll love it.” 

[hollywoodxwhore]

Mine | Chapter Two

Colson x Original Female Character

I got such a good response on chapter one yesterday! Y'all are too good to a girl who just wanted to relieve some stress by writing silly little stories about a hot dude. Love y'all so much!

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Warnings/Content: swearing, alcohol & marijuana usage, little tiny mention of smut, discussions of virginity (which is a social construct but I like it as a storyline sry), masturbation, col talking about his dick (he does that a lot in this fic, NOT sry)

Presley

After an hour or so of hanging out backstage, we all climb onto the tour bus and my eyes widen. Holy shit, this is nice. I look around as the guys find places to sit and grab drinks from the fridge. I’m the only girl here right now, and I find myself wishing Sadie could’ve come with me, but I had a security guy walk her to her car after the show. 

“Presley, drink?” Baze, the bass player asks.

“Um, what do you have?” I ask, taking a seat in an empty recliner.

“PBR, Jack Daniel’s, I think Kells has some wine—”

“Anything without alcohol?” I ask.

Baze looks over at me in surprise. “Oh. Sure. Coke, Monster, Mountain Dew—”

“Mountain Dew is perfect,” I reply. Baze hands me the can and I thank him, cracking it open. 

“Not really a drinker?” Baze asks as he has a seat, pouring some whiskey into a red cup.

I shake my head. “No. I much prefer smoking,” I say.

“By all means, girl, light up,” he says.

“I was just about to smoke a joint,” Rook says as he appears from the bunk area. “Want to share?”

“Sure,” I say, already feeling my anxiety ease knowing I’m going to smoke. 

Cash is in the shower and Justin sits on the couch on his phone. Slim climbs onto the bus and looks around. “We good to go? Where’s Kells?” Rook shrugs and Baze mutters that he doesn’t know. Slim sighs. “Can someone go look for him? I gotta get some more shit packed up.”

No one offers. Justin is now talking on the phone, and Rook and Baze are already well on their way to enjoying their night. I won’t deny a chance to see Colson. A second alone would be cool. “I’ll check,” I say.

“Thanks, Presley,” Slim says with a smile, then disappears off the bus. 

I get to my feet and weave through the bunk area, stopping for a second when I see my bags and pillow have found their way to a bunk. I push a button and a door slides open, leading to an area with two bathrooms and some other room. The bathroom Cash isn’t showering in is unoccupied and I frown, thinking he isn’t on the bus when I hear something creak in the room at the back.

I step closer and peer past the flimsy curtain that shields the room. The first thing I realize is that it’s a bedroom with a huge bed.

The second thing I realize is that Colson is on the bed. Deep inside a woman.

My eyes widen when they lock with Colson’s and I hurry from the room, squeaking out an apology as my cheeks burn. I don’t want to go out and face the others, so I lock myself in a bathroom to calm down. Fuck. My heart races.

I couldn’t see anything graphic, but I did see Colson behind that girl, one big hand flat on her lower back, hips moving in a way that made his abdomen ripple. His mouth hanging slightly open with pleasure, hair messy and eyes glassy. Shit, I did not need to know what that man looks like when he’s having sex. I squeeze my eyes closed. 

I’m in the bathroom so long that I’m sure someone’s going to start wondering. At that thought, my phone pings with a text from Cash. Found Kells! You good?

Yeah. I found him, too. I wash my hands and exit the bathroom, taking a deep breath before picking my way back to the main area of the bus.

Everyone’s there now, including Colson, but I don’t even look at him. I can’t bear to. I’m humiliated. I pick up my Mountain Dew and am immensely grateful when Rook passes me the joint. I take two huge puffs, cough, and settle back into the chair, praying the embarrassment and anxiety fade soon.

It does slightly, but all night, there’s a pinch of shame lingering within me. I can feel Colson trying to meet my eyes, but I refuse. I steal glances at him when he’s not looking, but I’m very careful not to meet his eyes. 

I’m irritated and a little disappointed. I thought he was flirting with me, but I guess I was stupid for thinking that. The woman is nowhere to be found, so she was probably just a fan he picked up for a one night stand. Why does that bother me so much?

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I get up and go over to Cash, sitting next to him on the couch. “I’m gonna go to bed. I’m exhausted,” I lie.

“Alright,” Cash says. “Need anything?”

I shake my head. “Thanks. Night, everyone,” I say.

“Aw, you’re going to bed already?” Rook says.

“Party’s just begun,” Slim adds.

“Tomorrow, I promise. I’m just really tired,” I explain.

“Ight, fair. Tomorrow, then,” Rook says with a smile, and I smile back before disappearing into the bunk area. I fish through my suitcase for my bathroom bag and lock myself in the bathroom to remove my makeup, do my skincare, and brush my teeth. I change into a big t-shirt and some shorts and leave the bathroom, crashing right into someone’s bare chest.

Colson.

I look up at him, feeling my cheeks burn, and he stumbles backwards. “Shit, sorry,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“It’s okay,” I say, looking away.

“Hey,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m really sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean for you to see—”

“No, I’m sorry,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “My fault.” I push past him and he lets me, but I feel his eyes on me all the way back to the bunk area. I climb into my bunk and slide the door shut, letting out a breath once I’m finally alone. Shit. 

I curl up under the blankets and try to let the gentle rumble of the bus on the road lull me to sleep. But every time I close my eyes, all I can see is Colson behind that girl. 

I’m not sure if it makes me angry, sick, turned on, or a combination of all three. But I don’t like that it makes me feel anything at all.

XX

I have another confession to make. I’m a virgin.

No one knows. Not my closest girlfriends, not the guys I’ve tried to date, no one. I guess you could say I have intimacy issues.

I actually dated quite a bit in high school. I had a date for every school dance, including the two times I went to prom. I just never did anything with any of them. We never even got to the boyfriend-girlfriend stage. We made out, of course, but we never went further. 

For some reason, my biggest fear in the world is letting someone see me naked.

I can be in a skimpy bikini. A tiny dress, shorts so short they basically show my asscheeks. But I hate being seen in underwear, and no one other than family has seen me naked. I almost chickened out of getting my nipples pierced because I was so uncomfortable, but I pushed through. The longer I go without anyone seeing me, the worse it gets. 

I have no idea where the fear comes from. Nothing traumatic happened to me. In fact, my parents have a great marriage and I had a good experience in high school. All through school, actually. There should be no reason why I’m so afraid. But I am, and it gets worse the older I get. 

Even if Colson was flirting with me, what the hell am I going to do about it? He’s the type of guy that fucks random girls. He doesn’t settle down. He doesn’t date. There’s no way he’d see me and decide he wants to date me, and even if somehow he did, he would get tired of waiting to do things other than kissing. It would never, ever happen. I’m actually pretty resolved to being alone forever. 

I barely slept last night. I was awake all night stewing about what I’d walked into. I’m jealous of the girl, and not because she was having sex with Colson. How is she so comfortable in herself that she’d let a stranger get her naked? Touch her? Make her moan? I envy that level of confidence. So many women seem to have it but not me. 

Guys have tried. It’s not that no one wants me because I know they do. I don’t know if it’s the tattoos, the fact that I’m a piercer, or the fact that I play guitar and sing, but I’ve had many, many guys try to pursue me. Every time, I turn them down. I’ve gone on a few dates and ghosted them all, too afraid to open up. It’s exhausting and embarrassing and I say no whenever anyone asks for a date now. I just can’t do it. 

I feel better when I realize Colson will never get anywhere with me. He’ll give up fast. That means I don’t even need to worry about him. I can continue with this harmless little crush, enjoy my time on tour, and go back to normal life when this is all over.

It’s going to be totally fine. 

Colson

Do I feel like a total asshole for what happened with Presley? Of course I do.

The whole point of fucking that girl was to get Presley off my mind. I didn’t expect her to walk in and catch us. Of course I feel like a total dick. 

I feel even worse when she doesn’t even look at me for the rest of the night. I’m sure it made her uncomfortable. Fuck, I feel uncomfortable. I don’t give a fuck if the boys walk in on me. It’s happened more times than I can count on two hands. I’m a bit of an exhibitionist, I’ll admit. But no girl has ever walked in on me with someone until now, and it sucks.

I don’t sleep until we arrive at the hotel, and by now, the sun is coming up. But my stomach is too knotted for me to be able to relax. All I can think about is Presley in her bunk. Part of me wants to be the one to let her know we’ve made it to the hotel, but she made it clear that she can’t even look at me, so I slink off the bus and keep my head down as I walk into the hotel lobby.

Ten minutes later, I’m finally showering. The tour bus showers are too small for me, the shower head hitting below my shoulder, so there’s no point in even trying to shower on the bus unless I absolutely have to. I let my head hang down as the warm water streams over my hair, and I sigh. Why do I care so much about what this girl thinks? Cash told me to stay away from her, and I can’t risk fucking anything up with him. The band needs him. He’s amazing. 

As if I don’t already feel bad enough, I can’t keep her out of my fucking head, can’t stop picturing her in that short, leather skirt that fit her perfectly. Those legs. Jesus Christ. I huff softly in annoyance as my cock starts to fill. Never have I ever felt guilty about wanting a girl before. This shit sucks. 

I feel like a teenager as I get myself off to nothing but thoughts of a girl I’ve only ever seen fully clothed and have never touched. It doesn’t take long; in fact, it’s embarrassingly quick. I’m glad I’m alone.

After Presley walked in on us, I didn’t finish. I immediately got dressed and walked the girl off the bus. It only occurs to me now as I turn off the shower that I never even got her name. That’s low, even for me. 

Feeling like utter shit, I brush my teeth, moisturize my face, and crawl into bed naked, hoping I can just pass the fuck out. No such luck. After an hour of tossing and turning, I throw the blankets off with a curse and get dressed. I need to find some coffee and quick.

In the hallway, I find Rook leaving his room, too. He looks just as exhausted as I feel. “Can’t sleep?” I ask him.

“Nah,” Rook says, shaking his head. 

“I was gonna find some coffee,” I say. “Wanna join me?”

“Sure.”

I text Reed, letting him know that Rook and I are grabbing coffee, and he meets us in the lobby. There’s a coffee shop nearby and we walk there in silence. It’s barely seven in the morning on a Sunday, so the place is pretty deserted. Rook and I both get gigantic iced coffees and tuck ourselves into a booth in the back of the shop. Reed finds a table nearby and pulls out his phone. 

“You look like shit,” Rook says.

I give him a sour look and chug down some coffee. “Thanks, bro. Appreciate it,” I mumble.

Rook flicks his braids out of his face. “I mean you look upset,” he says. 

I sigh and twist my straw, watching the ice cubes move around. I trust Rook. But I don’t talk about my feelings with fucking anyone. Only in my songs. “I’m fine,” I say. “I just feel like a dick.”

“Why?” Rook asks, taking a bite of the muffin he purchased.

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache start to throb behind my eyes. “Cash’s sister walked in on me and that girl last night.”

“What?” Rook hisses, eyes widening. “You serious? Does Cash know?”

“Fuck no!” I reply, shaking my head. “And I hope she doesn’t tell him. It was an accident.”

Rook considers this as he sips some more coffee. “Wait, why are you so upset about this?” He asks. “Shit, I myself have walked in on you at least ten times.”

He’s not wrong. “I dunno,” I admit with a shrug. “Just feel like shit. She’s not just a random person. She’s Cash’s sister, you know? Don’t want to make her uncomfortable while she’s here with us.”

I meet Rook’s eyes for a moment and there’s a weird glow about them. Like he’s speculating. I don’t like it. “What?” I ask defensively. 

“You into her?” Rook asks me.

“Fuck, dude,” I huff, looking away from him. “She’s Cash’s sister.”

“I’m well aware.”

“Doesn’t matter if I am or not,” I say after a moment. “Cash told us she’s off-limits.”

Rook shrugs, then nods. “How long is she with us?”

I shrug, too. “I don’t know. I told Cash it didn’t matter how long she wanted to stay.”

Rook shakes his head. “I haven’t seen you like this since—”

“Enough,” I say firmly, jaw clenching as I lock eyes with him.

Rook holds up his hands in surrender. “Sorry,” he says quietly. “Sorry.”

I finish off my coffee way too quickly and push to my feet. Rook isn’t done yet, but he wraps up his muffin, grabs his coffee, and follows my lead. I stalk back to the hotel, not talking to him or Reed. I need to be alone. I don’t like how well Rook can read me. 

Locked in my hotel room once again, I lay on my back in bed, staring at the ceiling. The coffee churns in my empty stomach, which isn’t helping the anxiety already aching there. I know what I have to do to survive while Presley is on tour with us. I need to just keep getting laid. I just can’t let her catch me again. 

Also, I could just be her friend. That’s what I’m supposed to do anyway. And that has to start with an apology. 

XX

When we get to the venue, I wait for Presley and Cash to get out of their car. Cash, who’s basically a golden retriever, is distracted by his excitement to get inside, and he leaves Presley behind. 

My heart stutters a little when I see her. She wears jeans today, but they fit her like a dream, and the black top she wears hints at a gorgeous pair of tits. Platform Nikes on her feet complete the look and such a simple outfit shouldn’t turn me on so goddamn much. This friendship thing is going to be more difficult than I anticipated.

“Hey, Presley,” I say, intercepting her as she walks towards the door. She adjusts her purse on her shoulder, and I can tell instantly that she’s uncomfortable. She chews that plush bottom lip and avoids my eyes. 

“Listen, I’m really sorry about last night,” I say. She continues to look past me. “Shit. Will you please. Just. Look at me?” I sound like I’m begging. God. Finally, her eyes lift to mine. I swallow hard. “It was totally an accident. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” she finally says, her perfect brows furrowing together. “I’m the one who walked in on you.”

I shrug. “It’s all good,” I assure her. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me. I’m glad you’re here. It makes Cash happy and I’m excited for us all to get to know you.”

She seems to relax, even just slightly, but it’s everything to me. She nods and smiles softly. “Okay. Thanks for talking to me,” she says. “We’re good.”

“Okay. Cool,” I say. “Let’s go inside.”

We walk side by side. “This is crazy,” Presley says.

“How do you mean?” I ask, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my jeans. 

She shrugs, looking up at the venue. “Just going backstage in a huge venue like this. I never imagined I’d be here. Let alone Cash.”

“Cash says you play in a few bands?” I ask.

Presley nods, tucking a piece of black hair behind her ear, revealing tons of piercings. “Yeah, just a few local bands. It’s nothing too serious.”

“You play…guitar?” I ask.

“And sing,” Presley says. “I’m alright. Cash, though. I mean, I don’t have to tell you. You know how talented he is.”

I nod. “Yeah. He’s unreal,” I agree. “I swear I learn something from him every time we play together.”

Presley smiles warmly, eyes crinkling. “Yeah. I’m so proud of him. This is just wild,” she says thoughtfully. “Thank you.” She looks up at me. “Thank you for noticing him and giving him this chance.”

“Shit, we should be thanking him,” I say. “I can’t wait to start recording our next album with him. We can be so much more dynamic with his guitar skills.”

She nods and smiles. I open the door for her and do my very best not to check out her ass as she walks inside, but I’m only human, and that thing is too perfect not to notice. 

“I have to head to sound check, but there’s always food backstage. Drinks. Help yourself to anything, alright?” I tell her.

“Thanks, Colson,” she says, and I like the way my name sounds on her lips. I wave and head off towards the stage. I’m not as anxious anymore, thank god. This is going to be just fine.

[justahopelessaromantic]

Upgraded Voices In My Head (Ch. 5: Michael makes an entrance)

Fandom: Be More Chill: The Musical Ships: Boyf riends and Squipemy Links to Chapters 1, 2, 3, and 4 Summary: Jeremy, for the most part, was okay with the effects of accidentally drinking Mountain Dew. Having an upgraded Squip that's no longer a complete douche-bag (okay, he was still a little shitty, but nothing too unbearable)? Cool. Squip playing matchmaker for him and his multiple crushes? Awesome. Falling in love with said Squip? Not exactly ideal.

Dropping down to the final step, Jeremy swiveled around to awkwardly lean against the soda-stained arm of a battered sofa (the Squip would have to convince him to dispose of that later), all while never taking his eyes off the rather uncomfortable advanced AI. He stared the boy down for a few moments in a (successful, if his host’s increased fidgeting was any indication) attempt at intimidation before shuddering, a wave of cold electricity running up his spine, and snapped back in hopes of distracting from his darkening cheeks, air sudden too hot and room too cramped (especially with the gremlin huddled in one of the couch’s corner and gripping the controller so hard his nails were digging into its plastic sides, music blaring from his oversized headphones so loud it was audible even from where they stood as glossed over eyes fixated themselves on crude low poly pixel art). 

“What?” He sneered, practically baring his fangs and catching the human off guard before he mentally scrambled for a reply that didn’t reveal how shamelessly he’d been checking the computer out.

“I, uh, I was just wondering why, um, why you’re human form still looks kinda like Keanu Re-oof!” Before Jeremy could finish, his guest ripped off his headphones, threw them on the woolen carpet, and tackled him in a warm hug, flinging them both into the sofa cushion and wiping the hostile interaction clean from the host’s mind. The Squip, eyeing the home intruder visitor cautiously, silently slipped behind the stairs as Jeremy reciprocated the hug, burying his face in his friend’s soft shoulder for a soft moment before beaming a warm smile at him. “Michael! Holy shit, it’s so good to see you, man. How come you’re home early?”

“Our flight back got cancelled so we took an early one home. The trip was still hella gnarly though. God, you woulda loved it, man! We’re taking you with us next time, I promi...whoooooa, wait...” Eerie silence pierced through enthusiasm to reveal concern as he finally took in Jeremy’s new apprentice in full. The gamer gently cupped his reddening face with one hand, gingerly thumbing over the fresh scar, along with a few stray acne bumps, on his cheek and brushing the soft curls dangling in front of his bandages out of the way. “Dude, what...happened?” Startled by the sudden intimacy, he bashfully turned to the side to avoid his friend’s intense stare and explained what led to the mess that was last night, taking particular care to leave out the face planting like a moron bit and being practically coddled by his dotting Squip before standing back up and bracing himself for Michael’s reaction.

“...Well,...yeah, but...you’re good now, right?” He pried, poking and prodding a now heavily flustered Jeremy’s face in search of any \ injuries he might’ve missed. “‘Cause I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if something serious happened just ‘cause I wasn’t here to, like, nag you about taking care of yourself n’ shit.”

Jeremy's eyes widened before they shifted to the floor, his hands beginning to fidget again (Squip would have to deal with that later). “Aw, c’mon, Micky, y-you know you don’t have to worry about me.” The jet lag from his wonky trip hours ensured that Michael did not have the time, nor the energy, to explain why that sentence took the prize for Biggest Understatement of the Decade. ”I’m totally fine! I mean, my head is givin’ me hell and I’m fucking starving, but, like, besides that Squip says I’ll be fine, so, uh, yeah.” He spat out, earning an overly drawn-out sigh of relief from his player 1 who slumped back into his seat.

“Oh, thank god!” Shoulders dropping, Michael leaned back against his friend and let out a sigh. “Man, you are so fucking lucky you’re not hurt for real, Jer. You pull a stunt like that again and I won’t hesitate, bi-wait did you say squip?” The other nodded casually before Michael shot him a curious look.

“Oh, right! Okay,..” He shot up out of his seat and swiftly grabbed Michael’s sleeve, ripping him up from the couch to reveal a stone-faced, cleanly dressed man that the player 1 could only describe as a stylish and almost threatening version of “chill” personified practically staring into his soul, while Jeremy hooked himself onto the man’s arm, vibrating with an almost childlike excitement. It vaguely reminded him of the joy that the player 2 radiated after finally asking Christine out or finding out about how to silence Squip's excessive internal nagging with a Mountain Dew red binge (the irony between that last example and the situation at hand did not escape Michael) “So! This is my-”

“Squip.” He interjected, extending an arm in search of a handshake while silently bracing himself to touch a most likely greasy and calloused hand. “Shorthand for super quantum unit Intel processor. You must be Michael. Truly a...” Closing his eyes and grimacing, he forced out his best, almost like the words stung. “...pleasure...to meet you, sir. Jeremy has told me many oh, for god sakes, why do you humans insist on throwing things at me today!?” The hologram groaned, bending over to pick up the thrown Xbox controller that had phased through him and place it back on top of its console while Jeremy ran to Michael’s side.

Failing to apprehend his friend due to his less-than-stellar strength (see: noodle arms), he opted for a more reason-based persuasion, muting the voice inside his head nagging on about how the emotion-driven best friend would probably just dismiss anything he said when dealing with something this serious.

“Dude, what the hell is your problem!?”

Micheal gave his friend a baffled look before pointing at the hologram. “That! That thing is the source of like...85% of all my problems.”

“I assume the other 15% stem from your raging idiocy, correct?”

Before Michael could bite back with a “Fuck off, you satanic tic tac!” or something equally unclever, Jeremy glared at his Squip before overprotective wrapping his arms around Michael, whose eyes widened at the sudden contact, and pulling him close, taking a half step back from the program. “Hey, cool it, dude! That’s, like, my favorite person you’re talking about.”

The Squip cringed at the young adult’s poor taste. “That’s your favorite person?” Clearly, he didn’t have much competition for the title.

...not that he wanted it, of course.

“Oh, yeah, uh, sorry about that. I swear, he’s usually not...” Jeremy studied the almost bloodthirsty look in the eyes of his kicking and screaming friend as he clawed frantically at the offending Intel processor. “...like this.” 

“I should hope not. Spending too much time around someone so...” The computer program circled around the calmer yet still scouring teen, combing over every inch of him with his electronic scanners. “...juvenile would hinder my objective.” 

“Suck a dick, asshole!”

The Squip only blinked. “I hope you know you’re only proving my point.”

“I hope you know you’re a defective piece of shit.”

A harsh, palpable silence fell over the room as Michael slumped into his player two’s arms in gradual exhaustion, and said player loosened his grip subtly and unwittingly leaned toward his Squip, his wide eyes frantically picking apart each pixel. Simulated breath hitching, the Squip froze for so long, Jeremy had time to toy with the idea that he might be glitching. The last time Jeremy saw him project glossy, shifting eyes, shaky hands, and a loss for words (God knows that thing never shut up) was during the glimpse he caught moments before passing out from the shock of The Play™. Back then it’d only been there as a last-ditch attempt to draw sympathy out of Jer in vain hopes of reactivation, but there was no reason for it now, considering the lack of real, high-stakes threat (Unless you counted Michael and, quite frankly, he knew the Squip was smart enough not to). The first time was a dull shock to Jeremy’s system.

The second only stirred up a vague sense of concern he was sure the Intel processor saw.

The Squip, of course, couldn’t have that.

[kkaisarion]

can you hear the rumble

mushy may day 13: thunderstorms. @forlorn-crows thanks for giving me an excuse to write more raindrop

rating: teen pairing: rain/dew word count: 864 summary: rain is determined to help dew enjoy thunderstorms again, just like he did before changing elements

read on AO3 or below

-----------------------------

Most mornings, Rain is slow to wake up, his unconscious brain reluctant to switch back on. But today, his eyes snap wide open right at the break of dawn, his body thrumming with energy. He can feel it in his bones—something big is coming.

He turns his head to the side, where Dew is curled up next to him, fast asleep. Rain really shouldn’t wake him up. He should wait until a more reasonable hour, or else he risks facing the wrath of an angry fire ghoul.

…Fuck it.

“Dew,” Rain says into the silence of the room, his usually quiet voice raised in excitement. “Hey, Dew,” he repeats, and shakes him gently by the shoulder.

Dew cracks his eyes open the tiniest bit and looks around, the bright copper slits eventually landing on Rain’s face.

“Mrrghh,” Dew says. “What, Rainy?”

“Can you feel it? There’s going to be a thunderstorm tonight,” he says brightly.

“What? I—” Dew looks confused at first, but then his face falls. “No,” he sighs quietly. “I’m not in tune with water anymore, remember?”

Rain takes Dew’s hand and holds it to his heart, and focuses hard on channeling the feeling toward the center of his body. He homes in on the sparks of energy and gathers them into a ball, pushing it into Dew’s palm lying warm against his chest.

“How about now?” he asks, a little breathless.

The way that Dew’s eyes light up is answer enough. “Holy shit, it’s just like before,” he whispers in awe. “But even better, because it feels like you, too.”

Rain wasn’t expecting him to say that last part, and it makes an overwhelming wave of affection wash over him. He wants to show Dew even more—to bring him over to the window and throw the curtains open, so that they can look up together at the heavy gray clouds that he knows are hanging in the sky, looming over the abbey grounds like a dark promise.

But then Dew threads his fingers through Rain’s hair and pulls him close, urging him to shift over and lie on top. The two of them move forward at the same time to kiss each other and they start making out lazily, licking into each other’s mouths without caring about their morning breath. Then Rain goes to suck lightly on Dew’s bottom lip, and he lets out a small content noise in response.

The clouds can wait, Rain decides.

-----------------------------

The day passes by unbearably slowly, the hours trickling by so sluggishly that Rain swears time is actually moving backwards. When it finally nears midnight, Rain and Dew walk out of the abbey doors hand in hand. They turn to look at each other and exchange excited grins—they can both feel the electricity of the approaching storm in the air.

They trek into the forest, carefully picking their way around branches and rocks in the dark. They soon draw close to their destination, a small hidden cave overlooking the lake that Mountain scouted out for them earlier. Suddenly, Rain tugs on Dew’s hand and pulls them into a run. They skid into the shelter of the cave just in time—not a moment later, the sky splits open and rain begins to pour down.

Rain and Dew can barely make out the lake through the curtains of rain that are pelting the ground. Rain glances over at Dew and opens his mouth to say something, but his words die in his throat when a flash of lightning illuminates Dew’s face, highlighting the striking angle of his cheekbones and the look of amazement in his eyes. The two of them instinctually huddle together to wait for the looming crack of thunder to shake through them.

They end up sitting on the ground, on top of a blanket that Dew suggested they bring with them. Rain sits cross-legged with Dew in his lap, Dew’s back leaning against Rain’s chest. Feeling hopelessly fond, Rain loops his arms around Dew and presses a kiss into his hair.

Both of them stay quiet as they lose themselves in the sound of the rain hitting the top of the cave, punctuated every so often by the call and response of the lightning and thunder. At one point, a sudden gust of wind makes goosebumps break out on Rain’s bare arms, and he shivers slightly. Dew raises his body temperature in response, and lets out a satisfied sigh when Rain melts into him.

Rain can’t help but feel like the storm is coming down just for them, putting on a show that’s meant to be watched in secret, away from everyone else. Rain wonders if they’ll eventually end up lying down, curled up tight while being lulled to sleep by the steady beat of the rain.

Or more likely, Dew will want them to run all the way back to the abbey, and Rain will get to hear him laugh as they stumble through the mud together and get utterly drenched. It’ll chill Rain to the bone, but he’ll follow Dew out into the cold without a second’s hesitation. Because wherever Dew goes, is where Rain wants to be.