#hope I'm not too rusty

[tiresomeimagination]

The Demons in the Details (707 x Reader)

Word Count: 1.2k

Author's note: This is an entry for @mysticmessengerenglish's fanfic contest. The theme was weddings and I had an idea to try playing with. Hope you enjoy! ^^

You paused in your inspection of the current venue and glanced back over at Saeyoung to gauge his reaction. He looked deep in thought as he scanned the building. You wished you could hear his thoughts… He looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

~~~~~

Wedding preparations are always tiring. They become even more so when expectations or standards are a bit too particular. Saeyoung was by no means a very picky person. In fact, you often had to nag him about keeping his preferences quiet for the sake of others. So it was a bit out of the ordinary to find that Saeyoung was so critical of every venue you visited. There was always something. It was too public of a spot, it was too closed off, it didn’t have enough exits, and the list went on. Nothing was quite right. You got the feeling that if it were solely up to him, he would just have the whole thing in his bunker.

His mind was racing with every possible worst-case scenario. He had to. After all, he had finally gotten everything he ever wanted. He was reunited with his brother. He had found a new family in the RFA members. He had even found the love of his life. He had…everything to lose. With his father and the agency still out there looking for him, he had far too many enemies to take any chances.

Finally, Saeyoung seemed to reach a decision. “Hm…yeah…this place is nice and all, but I just don’t think it’s us, y’know? I mean… we can definitely do better,” he said with a slight chuckle, attempting to keep his voice light and casual.

You couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. “This is the fifth place we’ve seen today. We’re kind of running out of options…” You tried to point out as gently as possible.

Saeyoung let out a small sigh of his own as he ran a hand anxiously through his hair. “You’re right, you’re right. How about we just…sleep on it for now? I have some more research to do anyway.”

You knew this ‘research’ probably involved running background checks on all the venue’s staff that would even breathe in the general vicinity of the event.

“...Okay. Yeah… It’s getting late anyway. We might as well go back,” you relented. You wanted to try your best to be accommodating. You knew that he had to do whatever he could do to feel safe.

Spirits were low as the two of you returned to the bunker. There was a certain unspoken tension that neither you nor Saeyoung wished to address. You both made light small talk about the day as you had dinner with him and Saeran as usual, but you could tell Saeyoung was still worried. As much as you wanted to try and talk through things, you didn’t want to push him before he was ready…. And so, even as you retired to the guest room for bed, the topic was avoided entirely for the night.

You awoke a few hours later. After a quick glance at your phone to confirm that it was indeed the middle of the night, you decided to get up and check in on Saeyoung. Experience told you that there was a good chance he got caught up in something and would need to be talked into actually going to bed. However, rather than a chance for playful teasing between you two, what you found when you peeked in was much more concerning.

Saeyoung sat on the edge of his bed, hunched forward with his head in his hands. Without thinking, you entered and quickly crossed the room towards him. 

The sound of your footsteps jolted him out of whatever state he had been in and his head whipped up to lock eyes with you. “…Y/N…?” He asked quietly as if your presence had surprised him.

“Saeyoung! What’s wrong?? Did something happen?” You asked worriedly as you came to a stop by his side.

He took a moment to register your words, still lost in his thoughts. “...Um…yeah…I-I mean no.” He stammered out, pausing to rub tiredly at his face and try to recollect his jumbled thoughts. “Everything’s fine. I just…had a weird dream, hah…” He breathed out quietly.

You frowned deeply and sat down beside him, placing a light touch on his arm. “Do you want to talk about it…?” You asked softly.

He didn’t answer, so you continued. “Whatever it is…you can talk to me. We promised to handle things together, remember? You don’t have to talk about it right now, but I can tell you’ve been worried about something and it’s more than just whether we get married someplace with or without windows, so-”

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Saeyoung suddenly interrupted your ramble. 

“...What…?” You replied, caught off guard by his words.

Saeyoung took a deep breath in and let it out before he looked over at you. “Things aren’t going to be easy, you know. Living with me…won’t be easy.” He paused, glancing down at the engagement ring you wore on your hand. A sign of your connection to one another.

“...What? What are you talking about?”

He sighed again and gently took your hand in his. “I still have a lot of enemies. You could get caught in the crossfire of any one of them.”

“Saeyoung…”

“Every time I close my eyes… I see everything that could go wrong. And every time I open them again I think about how I’m not ready. If I fail to account for even one possible threat, you could get hurt…or worse…"

"Saeyoung." You called out a little louder, hoping to get his attention off of his spiraling anxious thoughts and back onto you. When he looked back up at you, you continued. "You don't have to bear everything alone anymore. Everyone in RFA has your back. Saeran and I too. We're all in this together. And if dealing with Mint Eye has taught us anything…it's that we're stronger together." You said with a soft smile, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

You brought your other hand up to gently touch his shoulder. "And to answer your question…yes. This is what I want. You are what I want, and nothing will change that."

The both of you were moments away from tears. Saeyoung quickly pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face into your shoulder and sniffling softly.

"I love you so much, Y/N." He murmured, his voice muffled by your shirt. 

The second half went unspoken but you could hear it loud and clear. He was afraid of losing you. No amount of mere words could quell those fears entirely. They lived so deeply in his heart and you couldn’t chase them all out no matter how much you wanted to. All you could do was try to support him.

You let out a sigh as you hugged him back and let your own tears fall as well. "I love you too.”

Your happily ever after wouldn't be as easy as the fairy tales made them out to be…but you two would be okay so long as you stood together. You weren’t about to let go, and by the looks of his grip right now, neither was he.

[woozi]

WOOZI on SEVENTEEN winning Artist Of The Year in MAMA 2024

[calmparticles]

?Want a break from the ads? If you tap now to watch a short video you'll get 30 minutes of ad free music! Yes, really! If you tap now you'll get 30 minutes of ad free music! So what are you waiting for? I'm still waiting.. Why aren't you tapping? Don't you want 30 minutes of ad free music? If you tap now and watch the short video you'll get 30 minutes of ad free music! It's that easy! If you want to be free from the ads forever considerIf it doesn't work for you, then you're using it wrong. Make sure you're using EVERY single filter. If you are currently, then de-select them and make sure they're updated and re-enable them. IT WILL WORK. There's no "it won't work" when you do this. It's either a 1 or a 0. Either a yes or no. Either a "it will work" or an "I am not using the adblocker correctly".

[texasflowers]

Thick Studious Gohan

[bestialchorus]

MOVING IN WITH YOUR WEREWOLF GIRLFRIEND INCLUDES:

-For months, you’ve both been tiptoeing around the topic. Since you first started dating, quick quips like being excited to be “roommates” one day were always uttered whenever you were forced to say goodbye to each other. How these dreams were peppered in daily conversations, holding desires you each assumed were hidden from the other. How quickly those jokes gained weight the more your lives became intertwined. You loved her, and by the gods, did she love you. The love you shared was akin to the romances you once dreamed of, romances acted out in movies but seldomly found in your world.

-On one fateful night, you finally find the courage to whisper, “I want to live with you.” Her glowing eyes meet yours as the moonlight peaks in through the window. She softly rubs her canine head against your face, instantly filling you with warmth. You feel your lover start to shift back, leaving a large woman who is as much muscle as she is beauty”. “There’s nothing I’d love more,” she purrs close to your ear before softly dragging her finger down your body, sending a shiver down your spine. Her hand meets a familiar wetness. You start to whimper as you feel two long fingers slowly enter your folds. “Relax, baby girl, I’ll take care of you. Now and forever”. A few hours later, you lie on top of her as she gently rubs your back and plays with your hair. You talk deep into the night about what kind of home you want to build together. You remember passing out at some point as sleep finally catches up with you. You could have sworn you heard a whispering voice saying, “I can’t wait to call you my wife.” But maybe you just dreamt it.

-Right off the bat, it seemed money wouldn’t be much of an issue. You don’t quite understand at first, but she explains that she’ll soon be receiving a form of “inheritance” promised to alphas who reach a certain age. You still insist on contributing, and she doesn’t fight you on this, respecting you as a partner and her mate. 

-After months of searching, you finally end up finding a place that suits both of your needs. 

-Moving day was a lot less stressful than you thought it’d be. You remember packing up the last box one morning when you heard a knock at the door. Your girlfriend opens it, and a group of werewolves greet you with toothy smiles and warm mornings as they start to pile into your small apartment. You’ve spent much time with the pack, so all the faces before you were friendly. You can’t help but smile as one jokes, “I cant believe you’ve found someone who can actually tolerates ya, let alone live wit ya”. Some join in on the teasing as others come to chat with you. Without having to ask, each ONE immediately starts picking up a box and moving it down to the large pick-up truck outside your building. You release a surprised “EEP” as your alpha picks up while you’re holding a small box, “I wanna help too,” she giggles as she carries you bridal style to the truck. You feigned annoyance as you smack her arm, secretly loving every minute of it. All of your items (and yourself) are quickly loaded into the large vehicle with your girlfriend behind the wheel.

-After all your stuff is unpacked in the new place, the best part of moving could finally begin; decorating. You spend the next few days shopping together, hitting thrift stores throughout the city, and you actually find some pretty great stuff! One may have been a brand new pair of fuzzy handcuffs that your lover INSISTS will be essential for a “happy home.” 

-You come home one day and immediately stop in your tracks as you find your partner in a tight tank top and parachute pants, her outfit covered in paint as she moves a roller against the wall. Your brain turns to mush as her prominent abs peek through the thin fabric. She can’t help but smirk once she catches you ogling her. She decides then that it’s time for a bit of fun. Without saying a word, she takes off her shirt, revealing the body you were always in awe of. “I’m feeling a little warm after all this painting, honey, do you mind getting me a glass of water”? She acts as if she didn’t just fry all the neurons in your brain. You quickly shake your head and dash to the kitchen as you feel your cheeks heat up. 

-The house renovations have been complete torture. Whether it’s putting down new hard floor or tightening some plumbing. Your alpha is always wearing very little clothing; claiming she runs warm. You can believe that, but the image of your sweaty, beyond-built partner wearing a tool belt was sending you into your own version of heat. You’ve gotten little work done because you have a literal goddess walking around with a power drill. You decide to work a few days at the office going forward…

-Every day feels like an endless sleepover. Catching each other up on your day, grocery shopping together, painting each other’s nails, etc., it truly feels like you are hanging out with your best friend….a best friend who also just so happens to be 6’4 and able to crush a dresser with her bare hands….but best friends not the less.

-Another benefit of living with an extremely self-sufficient werewolf is that she’s an incredible cook. One night you come home and immediately smell the aroma of your favourite meal floating in the air. Her lips gently meet your neck as soon as you enter the kitchen, and your breath stops for a moment. “I’ve been cooking all day and while I’m excited for you to eat, I’m starving, baby”. You don’t get a moment to think as she has you bent over the table in a split second. That night you end up being her appetizer as she helps you build up an appetite. 

-You insist on helping her whenever she puts on a tie. You love putting her together for the day but love even more that you’re the sole person who gets to see her without all the bells and frills. You may share a space with your alpha, but you’re her true home. 

-Showering together has become one of your favourite rituals. You help the other wash the day off as warm water makes you melt. It always starts off innocently enough but very quickly becomes less than innocent whenever she starts to scrub around certain intimate areas….

-You had never thought much of a “forever” home while growing up but now realize it’s not only possible with your alpha. But that you’ll have one as long you’re with her.

[egginfroggin]

Some bois (from a show I haven't seen in years) (Also please click for better quality, Tumblr keeps scrunching my pics >_>)

First page:

lil Greg! lil guy

rare portrait of Wirt looking neither worried or exasperated (his face just settles into those expressions so nicely okay)

Greg sees something (what do he see?), and frankly Wirt would rather not investigate (places to be, please)

shading didn't come out quite right, but it was only a matter of time before I tried drawing Wirt looking truly wide-eyed and terrified at something, let's be honest

Second page:

little brother is not quite little enough to be comfortably held by his brother's antlers Dialogue transcription: Wirt: AAAAOWOWOWOWOWOWOW Greg: oops (small arrow pointing to Greg: a little too heavy)

Flower crowns! So many flower crowns!!!

Third page: technically the second page I did, but I wanted to finish the post with it, so here you go; he's a perfectly nice young man, really, just. just a little off. just a bit. he don't bite (probably)

[underqualified-human]

Dr Facilier with: a kitchen witch s/o

→ Request:

Hiiiiiiiii! I was wondering if you could do headcanons for Dr. Facilier with an autistic reader that practices Druidism/kitchen witchcraft? Like, they always smell like some kind of herbal concoction, they freaking *shove* enchanted food and drink to help out, and generally put a lot of work into how they treat their surrounding environment? I hope this request works well for you! wonderful day!!! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜 By @add-a-bit-of-neurospice

→ Author’s Note: Hi, so seeing as I don’t have autism nor the experience where I feel like I’m able to portray a character with autism accurately, I won’t be writing that aspect of the request. Very sorry. 

→ ⚠ Warnings ⚠: no beta, basically a first fic because I've been away for so long

→ Fandom: The Princess and The Frog (Disney Movie)

→ Genre: Romantic Headcanons

→ Pronouns: They/Them

He's very systematic with how he chooses to spend his time in a day, but whenever he bakes/cooks with you he completely forgets about it and just lives in the moment

He feels very awkward accepting food as gifts. He's very used to a 'quid pro quo' lifestyle and when he's told he doesn't owe you anything it throws him a bit off guard

After a while, he gets used to it, but a small part of him still feels like he doesn't deserve it. He usually forgets to eat or is so hard at work that he doesn't see time for it, so the meals are a huge help even if it isn't enchanted.

He likes to return the favour in some way, usually by helping with dishes or doing ingredient shopping for you (he is - unsurprisingly - very good at haggling)

Personally, he doesn't care much for nature or gardening but he respects how much effort you put into protecting/maintaining the nature around you. 

Over the course of the relationship, he begins to associate the smell of herbs with comfort and safety. Whenever he steps into the kitchen after a tough day you can physically see him relax

When it comes to your practice he has no opinion - as long as it doesn't intervene with his own. If it does he brings it up immediately and you come to an agreement quickly enough. 

[moe-broey]

Drops this Moe and refuses to elaborate.

....

Drops this extremely messy kinda janky sketch of Alfonse (?) and refuses to elaborate.

[instantartific]

|| ♡ You're suffocating, Darling

Image edits by me, edited from in-game screenshots.

Characters: Rin / White 1010 (referred to without name), "You" Summary: After worrying over what he'll do without you for far too long, he decided to take matters into his own hands and confront his recent... malfunctions around you. He gets desperate, nothing gets solved <3 Word Count: ~1.4k

Happy I finally got around to writing something like this again! I fell into a major writers' block for a while, so apologies for this being a little messier than some of my older writing :)

Quick note! Likes are appreciated, but a fast reblog (or any!) makes sure that other people can see my work, too! Sharing is caring :)

There is metal, and it presses into your soft, soft flesh.

It is hard.

It is cold, warmth allowed only by the distant radiance from his chest.

There is metal, and it has every capability to crush you beneath it, rendering your body nothing more than a wind-up toy meant to be discarded. Only, yours will no longer be able to move.

There is metal, and it is very, very gentle with the way that it holds your form. It hasn't squeezed quite yet. But it is there; it is solid, it is sturdy, it is several hundred pounds of steel and wire and if you dared to try and push any part of you up against it, test its limits, one thing becomes glaringly clear:

It is solid.

It will not move.

He has you, and you will stay there for as long as he wills it so.

You are trapped.

Silicon hardly graces your cheek as his head lowers, first part of his jaw gracing your forehead, then the panel of his cheek doing the same. Nuzzling into the side of your face. Trickles of warmth radiated from the glass, dancing along your skin and threatening to seep into your very bones, infecting you with what was once him. Judging by the sheer amount of light radiating from them, too: he's happy. Very, very happy.

Can you say the same?

"You are an an-om-a-ly," he started, voice tittering slightly, "to the degree that I don't even know what to do with myself."

Metal tightened around you even further, pressing into you deeper, gracing your flesh. That would be the fault of his arms snaked around your abdomen and folded beneath your back pressing your body between them and the plating of his chest against your bone. One of which is bound to give if enough pressure is exerted. Your chest can hardly rise high enough to take in a full breath. It is tense, but it does not hurt you.

Not yet, at least, but it is on the border of which.

… Would he care if it did?

Of course he would.

Of course, he would.

He'd jump at the slightest protest. Metal would immediately retract, snaking from beneath you, letting you go at once so that white can scan your body beneath him. White would pour over every surface, regardless of where you mention that the pain blossomed; it is, in his mind, entirely possible that he hurt you worse than you are willing to admit, or that you have noticed. This is a simple routine for the smallest scrape, or scratch, or papercut, even. He carefully takes your hands in his own, eyes skimming every finger before tracing the lines in your palms. They trailed every inch of every joint on every limb until he knows for a fact that you are okay. And if you are not, then this is a perfect process to determine what he should do to make that true. Every time, without fail. And that same routine would apply here.

That is what you're sure of, at least.

"All I know is that I need you to touch me. Please, baby," a whisper uttered beneath an offer; a plead offered between batted breaths; a prayer breathed out before the one the adherent may call their item of worship, "touch me."

His form moves from yours; however, only enough to free one arm. Silicone traces your sides until it happens upon your hand, fingers curling around yours gently. Teasing your will to comply with whatever fantasy of his this may be, and compliance you had. No matter how sensible it may be, your hand did move. It traced the axel at his hip. It traced its way along the divots in his torso. It traced the collar of his uniform. It traced his sternum to his neck, neck to his cheek. The distant whirring of his chest whirred to life with renewed vigor. Light danced throughout every LED surface he had. Light even danced behind his eyes, a hardly audible whir sounding as his brows raised and pupils dilated ever so slightly. If he could be drunk off of delight, he would be.

In a stray desire to run your hands through his hair, fingertips moved from cheek to the back of his head. And the moment you made contact, his head jerked. The sections of his torso shifted, grinding as they passed over one another. And his entire body lulled.

When his body lulled, it lulled into yours and for a few moments you become perfectly aware of the sheer weight his form can truly posses. He is solid and he is metal and he is heavy. The tension builds within you, bone digging deeper and deeper into your inner workings in a desperate attempt to keep them safe (in a way near laughable, the sensation is similar to that of what the machine himself swears to do for you in relation to what he is doing now. If you could laugh, you would.) Your lungs burn with the effort to take in even a morsel of air that his weight had now pressed out of you, hands grasping at any surface around you. The fingers once laced in his hair took root at his scalp, and in any attempt at making him notice what he's done, pulled. If his neck were not so dense the force may have pulled his head, too.

Perhaps able to feel the arch formed in your back, any room to allow ribs to press up to fight for air, he froze. His shoulder jerked up. His chest rose, finally releasing you. His eyes blink open, one delayed by an entire half-beat, taking one—two—three tries to sync up properly. White flooded you in a way you could almost miss, yet momentarily so. A mixture of concern, of worry, of fear, shot across his features in a mess of emotion in that same moment. "I'm sorry," came mutterings in a voice quiet and devoid of any of the charm he was so known for. A voice choppy and mechanical in sound, yet quiet. Darting white travelled the body beneath him until that white turned to static. The display jittered before cutting out entirely, his head mimicking this by jutting, only to flicker back to life with irises dyed a vibrant bloodied red.

X's. Disapproval. Failure.

Unacceptable.

They scoured you again, regardless of whatever protests (if any at all) may have left your tongue. They trace your skin, every part visible. They traced your veins. They traced every inch of every joint of every limb. Yet somehow, this is wrong. All of this is wrong. The red that tainted his irises tainted his features as well: concern to distant distress, worry to distant panic, fear to distant terror. The damning hue of disappointment. Heat began to build, and build, and build in the winding cavities in his torso. And in time, he moved. His body shifted down your form, only far enough for silicone to travel from your forehead to your cheek; cheek to your neck; neck to your sternum. Every movement was reduced to something uncharacteristically inhumane. Lips that would never know true warmth graced the surfaces of your chest that fought for air as heat grew and grew at your waist. In between each kiss: "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."

His head raised, red locking onto you, and only you. The only thing in his sights. "I don't know what's happening to me. I don't know if you're doing this to me. I found that I am struggling to process this, let alone attempting to explain it to anyone outside myself," he said, chuckling bitterly. The forced, whining, dry sound of gears grating in the absence of touch.

"The only thing clear is that I need you. It's a command echoing inside my mind, repeating over and over inside me like I'm being marched to my death if I don't obey. I need—" he gasps here as if there any need for breath in a way almost human—"you, baby. Let me be the only one to protect you. I'll do everything for you. Everything," an ode to desperation sighed into the fabric of your shirt.

This is what… love is, isn't it?

This is what he's been missing, isn't it?

This sense of sheer and total release onto someone who you are wholly devoted to.

He truly, truly loves you.

[theanxiousghostartist]

A random TMA - related event from my art show last night:

I had submitted a lot of art for this show (it was my last one at my school because I'm graduating), including a lot of TMA art. Now, every year, we have a guest judge, and this year's judge happened to bring his partner, who was an archivist. One of my former art teachers had called me over to talke to them, and she had mentioned my art because she was happy that someone knew what an archivist was. Now, I thought she saw this art of Helen:

(The background is a very heavy eyestrain warning, so I tried to tame it here. Basically just a swirl of bright rainbow colors)

It's not too questionable for a non-fan ig. People who had no idea what the podcast was said the perspective looked cool.

But no. No, no. Instead, she saw this (a last minute submition to fill out space on my board):

She added in a joke/reference, saying she hoped she wouldn't have to give up her skin. I was in shock for a minute and had to quickly explain that it was from TMA and how it was a horror podcast, and the idea was from another fan on Tumblr, ect, etc.

She said that she would check it out and walked away with the judge as they continued to explore the rest of the artwork at the show.

So...

I may have gotten another person into the podcat

Or

Scared someone away from the podcast

And I don't know which 😭

[randomwords247]

Someone made a joke about @rusty-courage with a cane on her stream yesterday and I said I'd draw it. Putting the elder in the western winter elders

[clarafell]

Happy Birthday, Ale!

@hogarsis

I wasn't sure what I wanted to do when I heard that it was your birthday, but I decided to throw some Sayaka-shaped confetti your way... Literally.

You can never have enough Sayaka, hehe... I hope you enjoy them!

Feel free to use them!

I had another gift I wanted to send your way, but I'm a bit too shy to send the other gift I had in mind. Sooooo, I decided to just make even more dash icon gifts. Making stuff for Sayaka is very fun, haha. Working with all her blue colors is such a treat. I tried to capture both her noble side with her goofy side, but you might be able to tell. Homura is my only muse, but I still have urges to make stuff for other muses... So, I'm always looking to give gifts.

Anyway, I tried to make some of the dash icons to match your specific color scheme. It was tricky, but still a fun challenge. I also had to include some Halloween-ish icons because I'm too excited since October is such a great month.

[puffin-smoke]

Hello lovely puffin! For the character/kin analysis, what do you see when I relate to Elliott, Treasure, and Baabe? (And my favs are David and Huxley, if that helps)

♡(ू•‧̫•ू⑅)

oh we are SO BACK (under the cut because I go on a bit)

You have an intense anxiety connected to keeping up relationships. So many of your past relationships (platonic or romantic) have ended poorly, through no real fault of your own (ie. Elliott's relationship with his brother, Treasure's relationship with their friends, no real example for Baabe but they were nervous about meeting the pack for the first time). These relationships ended, and that was fine, people drift apart sometimes. But you convinced yourself you could have changed it, you could've kept everything together and saved the relationship. You have somewhat of an inferiority complex surrounding this; a failed relationship feels like a moral failing for you. You could've done better, been a better friend to that person, but you didn't. So the anxiety begins to dictate a lot of your life. Decisions are made at the expense of yourself, all the pursuit of being a good friend. Keeping people in your life. You have issues with boundaries. (ie. Treasure's whole character, Baabe worrying over what the pack will think of them before their first pack meeting, no real example for Elliott but Huxley does have issues with this)

Then we look to the favourites, and how that interacts with who you kin. David doesn't let people push him around. He stands up for what he believes in, doesn't tolerate bullshit from anyone. You want to be him. You want to stand up for yourself without that fear of people leaving you. Then Huxley. He's open, you don't need to hold back around him (Freelancer went to him first with the Kody situation) and you wany someone like that for you. Someone who let's you let down your guard and relax, let's you be yourself fully, no holds barred.

[illiana-mystery]

Happy Halloween! I got a little fic out just in time for the last remaining hours of spooky day. This fic will have more chapters, but I wanted to post the first on Halloween night.

This new story is a little something special for both my fellow Alfred fans and my fellow Willem fans. It's a period piece, vampire fic that is about a polyamorous coupling between Oliver (Alfred), Axel (Willem), and their new female companion and feeder, Soleil (original character).

This first chapter sets up the overall premise of the fic. But stay tuned for Chapter 2 where Axel drinks her blood for the first time. 😉 Also read below for a more information about the plot: 

After escaping from her abusive husband, Soleil finds herself both in a whole new surrounding and a new situation. That being her discovery of the last two living vampires, who are hidden away in an abandoned chateau on the outskirts of her home village. The two welcome her in with open arms, leading her to become their willing feeder. But what happens when the still on-going war against vampires and her angry husband threaten to rip her apart from her new relationship with the two? Will they be able to withstand such issues, or will they be forced apart?

Taglist: @ghnaim24, @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky​, @goodoldcharley​

[freedjustineshipping]

Mirafraxus + " I'm yours. " from the smut prompt list. requested by anonymous. explicit content

Imprints that would blossom into beautiful bruises had been left on his wrists from when Freed had pinned him to the bed earlier, the grip firm and steady and providing promise for an intense night. His neck and chest were covered in various marks left by sharp teeth of his two lovers. Lipstick stains from Mirajane's kisses mingled amongst the bite marks, and Freed's skin hadn't been left untouched by them either.

Now, his hands were tied to their bed's headboard. Freed had aliented the use of his cravat to bind him into position and his muscles felt strained because of how long he had remained in that very pose, hands bound behind him and pleasure rippling through his whole body thanks to the treatment he was getting by his boyfriend and girlfriend.

Laxus was absolutely thrilled, a newfound joy, his broad chest heaving and lowering with stuttering breaths. It almost became too much.

With the taste of Mirajane's arousal fresh on his tongue and the slightly painful but delicious feeling of his ass being prepared by Freed's long fingers, the dragon slayer watched how the she-devil withdrew from his person. Being wedged between her voluptuous thighs was heaven on earth but it had been equal parts torture and pleasure to have her hover above his face without being allowed to please her to full extent. She had gazed down at him, blue eyes half-lidded, and lips curled into an unholy smile as she pleasured herself. Her fingers had rolled over her sensitive bundle of nerves, teasing and stroking herself, until she had climaxed for the first time.

And all Laxus had been allowed to do was to watch, her strong scent of arousal assaulting his sensitive nose, and a throaty growl of need coming forth that turned into an almost pathetic sound as he could only watch how she came undone above him with a loud moan.

Well, that wasn't completely right. She had been merciful enough to allow his tongue to slip into her warm core every now and then, using him for her pleasure whenever she deemed it necessary, before forcing him again to lie back and watch.

Laxus turned his head to follow where Mirajane was going, the bed shifting as she moved off it, but then a deep voice beckoned his attention.

"Eyes on me, Laxus."

And he complied without a second of hesitation, his gaze meeting Freed's. He was completely enthralled by the situation and his senses were almost stimulated to the max with everything that was happening. The bite marks stung beautifully, the fabric of the cravat burnt into his wrists. His tongue wanted to taste more, his dick was begging for friction and his ass already missed being filled by something. Anything.

Freed left an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of Laxus' thigh before sinking his teeth into the flesh and Laxus groaned, his cock hard and leaking precum. He had no idea how long he could fucking last but he had a feeling that he would find out very soon.

There was another slice of mercy when Freed indulged him with his hot mouth against his cock. His breath was damp and his tongue wet against his flesh as he moved it along the underside of his dick with slight pressure. The tip of Freed's tongue smoothed over his slit and they both groaned, his boyfriend's eyes meeting his in a heated display of affection. Then that devil smirked, satisfied by the taste he had gotten, before he firmly spread Laxus' legs as far as his flexibility allowed him to and Laxus gasped.

He heard a faint chuckle from across the room, Mirajane's melodic, sweet voice, but was distracted by how Freed's lubed cock was teasing his ass. Laxus' cheeks were red, his body shuddered and his cock twitched. "Just fuck me, Freed, please. Mess me up." He needed to be given something, wanted more. Mirajane and Freed had strung him along for what felt like hours. He was wholly aware that, tonight, he was there for their pleasure. His own was not of importance. He was essentially their toy, free to use to their own wants and needs.

And that was fucking hot.

For the longest time Laxus had never dared to guess that he had this side in him but both Mira and Freed proved otherwise. They taught him how to let go and took shame from him.

Although he still felt a little embarrassed by how needy he sounded. He couldn't it help.

His words certainly seem to have struck a nerve. The hunger in Freed's eyes was hard to miss, so was the mischief.

"I assure you, Laxus-," Freed's voice was rough and lust-filled as it travelled over to him. "You'll be quivering, whimpering and unable to move once we are done with you."

Fuck. Yes, that's what he wanted. Needed.

Mirajane appeared on Freed's side and pulled him into a slow kiss, their tongues meeting. They both groaned into it and Laxus was, again, forced to watch. Mira's hand sneaked to where his and Freed's body were almost fully connecting but she neglected his cock in favor of giving a firm stroke to Freed's, and the green-haired man released another throaty groan into her mouth. Her grasp kept gliding along his shaft and their sounds blended into a lustful harmony, perfectly responding to one another.

Laxus moaned miserably, his hands instinctively twitching as he wanted to move forward but was held back by the restraint. He was absorbing the sight of his lovers kissing and melting into one another, his legs still held by Freed's strong grip, trembling.

Then they broke apart with a shuddering breath and suddenly all the attention was on him again. The bed shifted when Mira positioned herself next to his torso, her eyes sparking with a deviousness he had learned to love, but his breath hitched when she showed him the riding crop in her hand.

There was little time to spend too many thoughts on the toy when he felt a probing nudge to his ass before being split apart by Freed's thick cock.

His lips parted in a moan and his eyes rolled back into his head, back arching amd thick muscles tensing when Freed filled him to the brim. For a moment he felt like he wasn't able to breathe with how much he had needed this touch and with how full he was feeling now.

"F-Fuck…" He had reached the point of paying no mind to how he sounded or how he moved. Mirajane and Freed were all he cared about, and how they used him to their pleasure. Giving him pleasure by doing so. The curse slipping from his lips was weak, almost a mewl. They were the only ones who'd ever get to hear the lightning dragon slayer like this. It was wonderful.

A pleased growl rumbled in the back of Freed's throat. Laxus knew he loved feeling his tight, warm ass around him. "Look how good you take it, Laxus," he hummed in praise and the dragon slayer's chest swelled with pleasure and affection even though it was hard to focus.

"So, so good…," Mirajane joined with a purr. The comparably cold material of the riding crop brushed his taut abs, wandering further up to his pecs and just in time with Freed's first thrust Mira whipped the crop across one of his nipples. Laxus moaned out in pleasure and pain alike, boring his sharp canines into his lower lip so they almost drew blood. The whip hadn't been too harsh but it had been precise and hard enough to sting pleasantly all the while Freed had begun to gyrate his hips, then gone over to fuck him relentlessly.

Laxus didn't know what to do with himself. His mind was everywhere and nowhere. He had long been reduced to a needy mess and his body was writhing. No doubt that, by the end of this night, he would neither be able to walk nor know where's left and where's right.

Mirajane clearly indulged in the sight, a smile on lips, hot and heavy. Her blue eyes watched where Freed's and his body connected, where he drove himself into him again and again, then her gaze lingered on Laxus' cock and then that smile targeted him as she climbed on top of his shaking frame.

The headboard he was bound to was being slammed against the wall with how vigorously he was being fucked and all kinds of incoherent sounds were falling from his lips. Moans, pleas, whimpers, all of them.

Freed's sounds were mingling with his and it only got better when he adjusted the angle, driving himself into him even deeper. His prostate was being hit with every thrust and he was tumbling on the line between sanity and insanity. Laxus faintly registered how the riding crop travelled across his chest and how Mira let his leaking cock slide between the lips of her pussy. She was so wet again, aroused by the sight of her boyfriends, by their sounds and by their shared pleasure.

Laxus gasped when her slick wetness coated his cock but he remembered that he was still here for their pleasure mainly. They weren't there for his. Not tonight. Tonight, they were indulging in a clear power imbalance and it couldn't be any more delicious.

"Mhhhh, yes…" Mira hummed as she began to tease her clit with Laxus' cock, rocking her hips and letting it slide between her lower lips without ever letting it slide into her. Behind her Freed was leaning in to leave a kiss on Mira's neck, breathily moaning against her perfect skin. He felt how Freed pulled out of him almost entirely just to slam back inside and Laxus gasped, hard. Tasty, stinging pain joined him again when Mira whipped his other nipple while she kept pleasing her slit and clit with his cock and it took him a moment to process that she had said something.

"Can you repeat what you said earlier? Who do you belong to, dear?" Mira was gazing down at him, demanding. Laxus saw that she had to bite her lip for a moment as pleasure continued to build up inside her again but her gaze on him was intense and her demanding words underlined with a delicious groan.

Laxus felt overwhelmed. By everything that was going on. His body was overriden with pleasure. The friction he finally received on his cock was divine even if he would love to be inside her warmth, the stinging pain intoxicating, Freed's thrusts sending him to the brink. He felt how his boyfriend's cock swelled inside of him with a building orgasm and fuck, he just wanted to tumble over that edge. He was so close.

"Say it, Laxus." Freed's voice wasn't any less demanding, tone authoritative though breathless and strained with moans, and making Laxus want to give in. To them. To his pleasure. To everything he had thought he couldn't be but was clearly proven wrong.

"F-Fuck-" Laxus spluttered forward and his confession was almost drowned out by the sound of mingling moans, the wooden headboard banging against the wall, and his own shameless scream of pleasure that melted into his words when he came. "I'm yours, fuck, I'm yours!"

The orgasm felt like heaven's blessing and he knew that it was true. The only heaven he'd ever go to was heaven with them, his two devils no less. Every muscle in his broad body clenched, a sharp tug on the restraint made him feel the burn once more and his jaw slacked. Sweat was covering his skin and as spurt after spurt of cum shot from his dick he felt how Mira rode on the wave of her own orgasm, her arousal mixing with his release. Her moans were high-pitched and lovely and his own turned into mere mewls, his cheeks burning red with exhausting and the feel of Freed spilling himself inside him, his cum coating the walls of his ass and leaking out of it as his thrusts stuttered and slowly ebbed away into slow, lazy movements.

As all three of them were spent and panting, Laxus felt how Freed pulled out of him, careful not to move too quickly. One last weak moan left his lips at the loss of pressure and his legs trembled as Freed slowly set them down on the bed.

Mira had abandoned the riding crop. Her eyes were closed in bliss, and a tired smile took over her lips when Freed leaned in behind her to leave a soft kiss against her shoulder blade.

Laxus barely had the strength to open his eyes, fixed on controlling his breathing. But when he did and set his gaze upon the sight of his two dishevelled lovers, he couldn't help the smile that took over his features. He was blissfully exhausted, he would without doubt be sore in the morning and he was absolutely going to admire all the marks in the mirror Freed and Mirajane had left on him. He couldn't wait.

But now a glorious and peaceful time of aftercare was awaiting him and god, fuck, he needed and looked forward to it.

Freed and Mira both smiled at him, adoring his sight. Mira shared a short, loving kiss with Freed before leaning down to share her lips with Laxus, and just shortly after Freed came to stand by the side of the bed and leaned down to kiss Laxus as well once Mira had withdrawn.

He savored their touches, savored their scents and faintly registered how Freed began to undo the tie around his wrists.

Laxus really was theirs, and the love the three of them had for each other was endless.