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f1nalboys · 2 years ago

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Come Inside - Chad Meeks-Martin

Chad Meeks-Martin x Fem!AFAB!Reader

hi guys. this is the fic that was giving me a massive amount of brain rot today!!! i dreamt this (yeah im lucky i know thank you) and havent been able to stop thinking about it since <3 shout out to tatianna (@castieltrash1) for reading it and doing some editing for me, she is the loml and u all need to follow her NEOW! (in fact, she has a charlie from scream 4 fic in the works and its DELICIOUS.) anyways hope u all enjoy this :3

WORD COUNT: 5384 (I KNOW TRUST ME)

WARNINGS: nsfw, first time sex, dub-con except not really?, chad begs to fuck the reader, male manipulator core, 'just the tip' turns into the full thing, unprotected sex, oral (afab and amab recieving,) dirty talk, praise, slight body worship, slight corruption, slight convincing so again, dub con to be safe, high/drunk sex, reader is more high than chad but neither are drunk but they drank if that makes sense, friends to lovers, im just in love with him you guys! reader wears a dress, chad calls reader good girl and pretty girl. actually proofread bc tati is a saving grace angel lady. <3

You feel him before you hear him. You’re at the bar, nursing your first drink of the night, trying to ignore the dull thud the music was giving you when suddenly there’s a large hand placed on the small of your back. “Can I get another beer?” Chad asks the bartender and you feel yourself relax at the sound of his voice, goosebumps rising on the exposed flesh of your arms as his thumb absentmindedly runs up and down. “Hey.” He tilts his head at you a bit. “Nice earrings.”

“Hi. I could say the same to you.” You look up at him and grin, matching his own wide and easy smile. Chad’s standing right beside you, toned body pressed against yours and you don’t know if it’s on purpose or just due to the crowd. “You having fun?” you ask as the bartender hands him the beer bottle. Chad takes a sip from it, looking down at you, grinning against the glass when he notices you watching the way his lips curve against the opening.

It was no secret in the group that you had a crush on Chad. It was hard not to have one on him; he was kind, funny, handsome as hell, and he always seemed to know just the right thing to say. “Now I am,” he teases and you roll your eyes, turning away from him to hide your grin. Just like that. “I’m getting fuckin’ bored though. Too many people. How about you? You find any lucky guys, Y/N?”

“Lucky guys?”

“You know, to take home?” He wiggles his eyebrows for added effect when you look back up at him. “I’m trying to ask if you’re gonna fuck someone tonight.” You nearly choke on your drink and he laughs, deep in his chest, and his hand which was still on your back begins to rub soothing circles. His hands are rough and calloused from his time playing football and they’re so big, with long thick fingers, and suddenly you’re shaking your head in an attempt to get the image of him using them on you, wherever he sees fit, out of your mind. “I take that as a no, then?”

You snort, shaking your head. “Yeah, no, not fucking anyone tonight,” you say, taking another sip of your drink and sighing. “And now my drink’s empty, the music here is too god damn loud, and you’re right, there’s too many fucking people here!” Shaking your head, you dig into the small clutch you had with you, fishing out a few dollar bills and placing them on the bar counter. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Can I walk you home?” Chad asks, finally removing his hand from your back as you slide out of the bar stool. Your eyebrows narrow in confusion. You had one drink, were the furthest from being drunk you had been in your entire college career, in fact, and you only lived five minutes down the road. “C’mon,” he says, shrugging his broad shoulders and flashing you that fucking smile that always made your knees weak. “It’s late, I just wanna make sure you get home alright.”

You pretend to think on it, letting out a small ‘hmm’ noise as you tap a finger to your chin. “Fine, but you have to come inside and sober up a bit before you leave.” Chad’s smile doesn’t go away at your request. In fact, it seems to grow. He takes out his wallet and places a few bills beside yours, grabbing the bartender's attention and letting them know you both had paid off your tabs before holding his arm out for you to grab. You do so with a shy smile, trying to ignore the feeling of him under your fingertips, or how close you were to him, or how he kept looking down at you with a smile, or even how his eyes kept darting to your lips. Everything he did seemed to be a deliberate attempt to get you worked up and it always fucking worked.

He leads you out of the club with ease and before you know it you’re out on the New York street. “Which way?” he asks and you nod to the right, following beside him at a slow pace. It was a nice night, a cool breeze helping to offset the hot air that had permeated the city during the day, and the lights and noises of the city still awake helped set you at ease. “You really weren’t having fun in there, were you?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because we got out here and you relaxed like you had just gotten out of a fight or flight situation.” He laughs and you smile at the sound. Chad was always grinning, always smiling, but he had been through some tough shit. You used to wonder how he was able to keep this positive attitude but then decided to let it go and try not to dwell on it too much.

“It was just… too much, you know? Lots of people, lights, that music-”

“I just think you’re old.” You elbow him in the side and he grins. “You are! You sound like my mom.” Chad sniffles and places his free hand on his back, slowing down to an almost complete stop, speaking with a crotchety old-lady voice. “Back in my day, we went to the sock hop! We were pulled by a horse and buggy, not these cars! Your music is too loud, Chady-kins, turn it down!”

You both fall into a fit of laughter, picking back up the original pace you had set. “Chady-kins? Oh, I’m so stealing that.” He shakes his head at you and you giggle, leaning further into his grip. “I mean it! And I’m telling your mom you called her old.”

You stop walking, finally outside of your apartment building. “Too far,” he says, his smile dropping ever so slightly when you let go of his arm in favor of typing in your door code. “Am I still invited in?” he asks and you look over at him. He’s leaning against the old brick building, the lights of the restaurant across the street bouncing off of his skin and his smile and his eyes and you’re nodding, face burning hot. “Yeah?” His voice is deeper than it was just a moment before and it makes you swallow heavily.

All you can do is nod.

“Good. M’glad. You know I’m not drunk though, right?” he says as you two walk into your apartment building. He lets you go first, leading the way, but you can feel his eyes on your ass each time you move. You not-so-subtly sway your hips as you walk and you swear you hear him suck in a breath. “Only had a beer and a half before we left, so, no real need to sober up.”

“I’m not drunk either. You can still hang out for a bit, though, if you want?” He hums in agreement and then you’re at your apartment, digging through your purse for your keys. “It’s a little messy in here,” you say sheepishly as you open the door, revealing the mess you had left behind in your attempt at getting ready to go out. Chad just laughs, kicking his shoes off at the door and locking it behind him. “I couldn’t figure out what to wear.”

Your heels are finally off and you hurry around, picking up the pile of clothes you had left on your bed and floor, shoving them in your closet and hamper. “Well I’d say you landed on something good,” Chad says from the kitchen, his voice muffled as he bends down and peers into your fridge. “Because you look fucking hot.” You squeak out a thank you and busy yourself at your desk, fixing up the few items you had left out and trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“What are you doing?” you ask, poking your head over and seeing Chad in the living room. He turns around and holds up the ashtray you had left on your coffee table, an unsmoked blunt still on it. “You wanna smoke?” you ask and he nods. “Go ahead. You want something to drink?”

“Water’s fine. You’re not gonna smoke with me?”

“I don’t know,” you say, passing by him as you head into the kitchen to grab two water bottles for the both of you. “I get sorta… weird when I smoke.”

“Weird? Weird how?” Chad asks and you hear the sound of your lighter sparking as he sits back on your small couch with a groan. “Do you, like, talk about conspiracies or some shit? Because I’ve smoked with Mindy before and it’s either that or her talking about whatever girl she’s in love with that day.” You chuckle, face heating up as you turn around and see him on the couch. He’s sitting with his legs spread and you realize instantly how well-fitted his jeans are, tight around his thighs. His head is back on the couch looking up, eyes closed as he takes another hit. Smoke plumes around him in a lazy rolling fog.

You nudge him with the bottle and he takes it with a thank you. Sitting down beside him, you tuck your legs up, knees pressed against his thigh. God, his thigh. You look away from them, opening up your own bottle of water and taking a few slow sips, the image of you riding his thigh, his hands on your hips, building in your mind.

“So? How weird is weird?” Chad questions, holding the blunt out to you. You consider it for a second, eyes flicking between it and his face which was turned towards you. You couldn’t tell Chad that the ‘weird’ you got was different from what he was imagining. You didn’t spout off conspiracies about the government, or get paranoid. You got horny, and being around him would only make that ‘weirdness’ worse. The days alone when you would smoke, you’d find yourself in bed, hand between your legs, moaning his name. “C’mon.”

It’s all the encouragement you need and you pluck it from his fingers and settle back into the faux leather of your couch. “There you go,” he says, taking the time to let his eyes drag down your body while you’re taking a hit.

The dress you wore fit you great, tight against your body, the color complimenting your skin tone. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you since he saw you tonight from across the bar, nursing his drink for ten minutes before Mindy had shoved him towards you, telling him that if he didn’t make a move on you she would on his behalf. And now here he was, smoking with you, so close on the couch that he could practically feel your pulse under his skin. He wanted you so badly and everything that came with it, the good and the bad.

The two of you pass the blunt back and forth a few times, talking about nothing in between, but you were being affected far more than Chad was. “Are you even inhaling?” you ask with a giggle, passing it back to Chad. He rolls his eyes, taking a large hit in order to prove that he was. “Alright, alright. Show off,” you mutter, blinking heavily. “How come it’s hitting me harder than you?” you whine, shaking your head when he offers the blunt back to you. “I can barely even think straight. M’all… fuzzy.”

“I’m cooler than you, duh,” Chad says with ease, taking a hit and waiting for your laughter to die down before blowing the smoke into your face. You let him, blinking, pupils wide. He thinks you look pretty normally, but he thinks you look beautiful like this. He leans over and places the roach onto the ashtray, sighing as he leans back, his left hand resting on your thigh. You swallow heavily, your vision fuzzy. Your dress had ridden up quite a bit now and his hand was so warm against your flesh. He’s looking at you with such an intense look it has you squirming, face hot when he laughs at you. “I wanna kiss you.”

You blink, sure you misheard him. “What?”

“I wanna kiss you. Like,” he laughs, shaking his head slightly. His brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the lamplight, the whites of his eyes red, pupils blown out. “So fucking bad.” His other hand, the one that had been resting on his thigh, comes up and he places it on your cheek. His thumb runs along your cheek, catching the corner of your mouth. His touch is gentle but everything is so intense still, your skin feeling like it’s on fire, burning against his own. “Can I? Please?”

You nod, closing your eyes when he grins and leans in. The kiss is slow, each movement of his lips done with a purpose. His hand drags from your cheek to the base of your neck, pushing you into his kiss, his touch, just a bit more. You follow his lead with ease, mind too hazy to try and take over.

He pulls away for a moment to catch his breath, staring into your eyes. “Fuck,” he mutters and he’s kissing you again, harder this time, sloppy. His tongue is slipping inside your mouth and you let out a soft moan, his hand on your thigh dragging upwards, pushing past the fabric. “So fucking hot,” He mutters against your lips, and then you can feel the top of his fingers brush against your underwear, right over your hips, and you’re pushing his hand away gently. “What? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m okay.” He’s still looking at you, hands dropping to his sides, and he looks worried. You can tell he’s wracking his brain for what he did, if he had gone too far somehow. “I’m a virgin.” You blurt it out and squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed. When you had felt his fingers up your skirt it had hit you that if it continued he’d be touching you, that you want him to touch you, but that you weren’t sure if he’d want to.

“So?” Your eyes pop open. Chad is staring at you with a kind smile, dimple evident on his cheek, and you feel your face heat up. “I mean, I’m okay with it if you are, you know?” His hand’s on your leg again, fingers dragging up and down your thigh slowly. “Are you nervous about it?”

“I didn’t know if you’d be alright with it.”

“Well, I am. Besides, wouldn’t it be good to lose it to me?”

“What do you mean?”

Chad’s smile grows and he leans in, lips close to yours. You close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. “You know me, right?” You hum. You want him to kiss you again. “You trust me too, right?” Another hum and this time you're leaning in a little bit, a whine stuck in your throat when he pulls away. “Then you should know that I’d make you feel good. I’d take my time when I touch you,” His hand is up your dress again and your body jerks involuntarily into his touch. “That I’d take good care of you and your virgin pussy.”

He brushes his fingers up your inner thigh and your legs spread instantly, giving him room. He grins at the sight of you, eyes closed, disheveled, breathing hard, legs spread and hand gripping his forearm. “Please?” you ask and then he’s kissing you, finally, and his fingers are brushing against your clothed clit. You keen into his touch, whining into his lips, but he doesn’t stop.

His fingers begin to rub slow circles against you, a good amount of pressure, and it feels so different from when you touch yourself thinking of him. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the fact that this is happening, but everything is almost too much. You’re surrounded by him in every way possible, his very being filling your own body, replacing your own needs. All you want is for him to feel good, for him to moan, for him to gasp at each press of your hand against him, for him to be begging for more without even realizing he’s doing it.

You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel.

“More?” Chad asks, parroting your own words back to you with a smile, taking his lips away from your own, his fingers speeding up. His nose is brushing against your neck before he’s kissing it, biting down against your pulse gently, soothing it with his tongue. “Bet you’re close aren’t you, Y/N?” His voice is right there in your ear, breath hot against your skin, but you can barely focus on that. “C’mon, be good for me and cum, okay? Please? Fuck, need you to cum so bad, baby.”

“Gonna-” Is all you get out before he’s biting down onto your neck again and pressing down hard onto your clit and then you’re cumming, nails digging into his arm, a moan stuck in your throat. “F-fuck, Chad, shit!” His fingers don’t slow down for a second but he’s moving off of you, pushing your dress up your body and pulling your underwear down in one fell swoop.

He shoves your legs apart and you take a second to catch your breath, looking down at him as he slides down the length of the couch. His eyes are glued to your pussy, fingers swiping through your folds and popping them into his mouth with a groan. “Taste so fucking good, so sweet,” he says, prodding at your hole with his middle finger, looking up at you. “Can I taste you?”

You nod, heart hammering out of your chest, and watch as he leans in, breathing in deep, eyes fluttering closed. As his tongue flicks over your clit he pushes his finger inside you slowly, just to the first knuckle, and your hip bucks at the intrusion, forcing his thick finger deeper inside you.

“Relax, it’s okay,” he soothes, watching your eyes squeeze at the feeling. His fingers were thick, stretching you out with just one, and his tongue kept moving, swirling around your clit and sending shockwaves up your body. You try to focus on relaxing your body and when he feels you do so he pushes his finger in all the way. “There you go, good girl,” he coos, spitting onto his finger as he begins to pump it inside you.

Chad is moving slowly, finger pumping in and out at a snail's pace, tongue moving even slower somehow. It almost hurts how slow he’s going and you know it’s to prepare you, to make you want him more than you already did. He wanted you drunk on his touch. “Faster,” you gasp and you can feel him laugh against you. “More, please, Chad?” You feel another finger press at your hole and you could cry, your body begging for more.

The stretch is only a little painful, his tongue helping to soothe the ache. You can feel the knot in your stomach growing with each quickening pump of his finger, each swirl of his tongue, and you swear you see stars when he scissors his fingers inside you. One of your hands grabs onto his head, pulling his head in closer to your cunt, hips rocking up to meet his fingers and tongue, grinding against him.

You cum without warning, your cry caught in your throat when he pushes in a third finger. It was too much. Your brain was still fuzzy from smoking and everything he was doing to you was heightened. You could feel every taste bud on his tongue as he flicked it against your clit, every groove in his fingers as they pumped inside you.

“Ok, ok, too much,” you get out and he stops, finally pulling away from you. His fingers are coated in your cum and you watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he sucks on one of his fingers, groaning at the taste of you, before holding his other two fingers out for you. They press against your lips and your mouth parts, tongue sticking out, and you wrap your lips around them as he pushes them inside.

“Don’t you taste good?” he asks with a grin, leaning over you, his free hand resting on the arm of the couch beside your head. You hum, swirling your tongue around his digits. Your hands begin to fiddle with his belt, tugging at it, and he grins. “Wanna suck my cock, that it?” You nod, his fingers still inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. “Yeah, I bet you do. Bet you’ve thought all about my cock inside your pretty mouth haven’t you? Fuck, you’re so pretty, you know that?”

You grin, running your hand down his face, mimicking what he had done to you earlier, thumb brushing against the corner of his lips.“You’re pretty,” you say, compliment muffled by his fingers in your mouth, and he gives you a soft laugh, his head falling to hide his grin. He finally pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a small string of saliva connecting them to your lips. “Wanna touch you,” you whine, going back to working on his belt.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he says, leaning back and shoving his jeans down. He leans backward on the couch, jeans tossed onto the floor, his cock straining against his underwear. You’re practically salivating by the time you are leaning over him, placing soft kisses over the fabric of his underwear, looking up at him through your lashes. “Hey, I didn’t tease you,” he says with a sigh, eyelids heavy with lust at the feeling. He had been hard since he kissed you and the taste of you was still lingering on his tongue and he swears it‘s fucking him up more than the weed did.

You finally tug at his underwear, pulling them down just enough to pull his cock out. He grabs your wrist, turning your hand palm up and spitting in it, giving you a wink before leaning back, arms behind his head as he enjoys the show. “I’ve never…” you say, suddenly nervous. It was clear to you that Chad had experience in this regard with how easily he had made you cum and you were beginning to worry that you were in over your head, too nervous and inexperienced and high to make sure you did alright.

“That’s alright,�� he says, giving you a soft smile, one that instantly quells your anxiety. “Just take your time with it, okay? There’s plenty of time for me to teach you, okay, pretty girl?” You nod, wrapping your spit-slick hand around his cock and he hisses, head tilting back as you begin to stroke him. You start off slow, tightening your grip at the base of his cock and loosening it when you get to the top, swiping your thumb over the tip. “Fu-uck,” he says, tripping over his words with a laugh and a thick swallow. “You sure you’ve never done this before? Feels fucking amazing, Y/N.”

Leaning down, you keep your eyes on him as you lick over the tip of his cock, collecting the bead of precum there and swallowing it. He groans and you can feel him throb under your hand. You flatten your tongue and lick from the base of his cock up to the tip, following the prominent vein he had, and his hips buck at the feeling. This is exactly how you wanted him; his eyebrows scrunched together, eyes struggling to stay open at the feeling of you, him fucking into your fist with an eagerness he couldn’t control. You were making him feel good and fuck, it went straight to your cunt.

You don’t try to take all of him in your mouth. It was like he said; there would be plenty of time for him to train your throat, just like he had always dreamt of. You keep your hand on him, moving at the same pace, and you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, swallowing around it. He was big, bigger than any toy you had used before at the very least, and when you take him a bit further down he bucks his hips, plunging his cock down your throat. You gag and pull off of him and he’s apologizing.

“Sh-shit, sorry! Sorry, Y/N, just, fuck, your throat felt so good, couldn’t help it. C’mere.” He pulls you in for a kiss and you know he’s sorry but even if he wasn’t you wouldn’t care. It hits you then, while his tongue is down your throat and his hand is cupping your cheek, that you’d let him do anything to you and that you’d thank him for it. “Can I fuck you?” he asks, pulling away from your lips and resting his forehead on yours.

“I don’t know…” you start, chewing on your bottom lip. “You’re big… it’s gonna hurt.”

“How about just the tip, then? If you want more we’ll keep going, if not, that’s fine.” You ponder the offer for a second. He told you he’d take care of you, that he’d take his time, make sure it felt good for you. “Don’t you trust me, baby?” You do trust him. You know him, just like he said. You nod and he smiles. “Good girl. Okay, let's go to the bed, yeah? I’ll get you out of this sexy fucking dress and I’ll make sure you feel good, alright baby?”

He helps you stand and keeps kissing you, unzipping your dress as he moves you through the apartment, pulling your straps down. The dress is pulled off of you a second before your knees hit the back of the bed and you’re both falling onto it, giggling. “Hi,” you say, hands on his shoulders. He grins.

“Hi.” Chad stands, pulling his shirt off and tugging his underwear off, tossing both somewhere behind him. You both take a moment to stare at the other, nervous giggles leaving your lips. You had dreamt of this moment dozens of times before, had cum to it just as often, and now it was happening and it was somehow better than what you had ever thought up. “Look at you,” he says, hands dragging up your legs to your chest and back down again. He’s slotted in between your legs and you whine, wrapping one leg around him and pulling him in closer. “Use your words.”

It’s the first time he was really telling you to do something and you swallow heavily. “Please, Chad, can you?”

“Can I what?”

“Can you fuck me? Please? I want you to take my virginity so badly, I need it, please? I’ve thought about it so much, wanted it for so long.” You’re whining now, begging, and you swear you can feel the tears begin to fill your eyes. He’s smiling down at you and his eyes are so dark you’re not sure how much of his iris is left. Your legs spread for him when he nods and you watch with bated breath as he grabs ahold of his cock, spitting on it, before swiping up your slit.

He groans at the feeling. “So wet, baby. Bet your pussy will let me just slide right in.” He pushes the head of his cock in slowly and you gasp, tears filling your eyes at the stretch. It felt good but it hurt and you can feel him rocking his hips ever so slightly, pulling out and pushing back in, never going too far inside you. His hands are on your thighs, digging into your flesh, and you’re overwhelmed again.

The two of you stay like this a moment, the head of his cock pushed inside, your cunt clenching around him desperately. When he leans down over you, resting his forearms beside your head, he pushes in just a bit more and you whimper at the feeling. Chad wipes a stray tear off of your cheek and kisses you, short soft kisses in an effort to distract you from the pain and him from the overwhelming urge to push all the way in.

“Can I move more?” he whispers against your lips and you shake your head a little, too fuzzy to really think about it. “Please?” he whines, nuzzling into your neck. “Don’t I feel good, baby? Doesn’t my cock feel good inside you?”

“It does-”

“It’ll feel even better all the way inside.” His voice sounds so desperate and now he’s rocking his hips further, plunging another inch inside you and you moan because he’s right, it does feel good. The burn and pain of the stretch have gone away, giving way to pleasure. You want more, you want him, you just don’t know how to say it. “Please, baby, fuck. Your cunt feels so good, so fucking tight and wet and fuckin’ perfect for me. Let me fuck you, god, I need it so bad. Don’t you trust me? You know I’ll take care of you, right?”

You nod, babble out some response close to ‘yes, please, more,’ and then he’s pushing all the way inside, hips snapping forwards. You yelp at the intrusion, caught off guard by how full you feel, and then he’s thanking you over and over and over again as he sets a brutal pace. Chad’s weight is fully on you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. He can’t get enough of your skin against his, of the noises you make, of the way your pussy clenches around him and pulls him in closer, milking his cock.

“Thank you, oh fuck, thank you, Y/N. Christ, so tight.” His voice is cracking, raising an octave as he begins to lose himself in the feeling of you around him. The pain of his thrusts is quickly overtaken by the pleasure and you’re moaning, wrapping your legs around his hips, driving him deeper inside you. You both could die happy like this. “So close, fuck, how am I so close already?” He’s talking more to himself than you at this point and that’s okay because you’re too focused on the building pleasure in your gut to care.

The position you’re in has his pelvis grinding against your clit with each thrust and you swear your mind melts just a little bit more each time he fucks into you. “Please, please, please,” you say and you’re not sure what you’re pleading for but all you know is you don’t want him to fucking stop. You’re right there on the edge, can feel it through your entire body, and then Chad is moaning your name loudly and you feel him cum inside you, hips flush against yours.

You cum at the feeling of him filling you and he whines, hips rocking as you pulse around him. He’s sensitive, his head swimming, and the two of you stay like that for a moment, his head in your neck and your arms and legs wrapped around him. “So good,” he finally says, pulling his head back to look at you, his eyebrows stitching together. “You okay? M’sorry, I got carried away, I didn’t even ask-”

“It’s alright,” you say, running your hands up and down his back. You can feel him shiver underneath your touch. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” he teases, kissing you on the lips a few times, biting down on your bottom lip as he pulls back. “Wanna do it again?”

You gasp as his hips begin to move again, the squelch of your cunt and his cum being fucked back into you filling the room. “Y-you wanna go again? Already?” He nods, hand snaking down in between you two, pressing against your sensitive clit and grinning when you whine. “If you can handle it.” You nod despite not knowing if you could; he grins. “My good girl, right? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you cum till you’re stupid. You’ll look so pretty when you’re dumb on my cock, won’t you?”

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sillyvampireboi · 4 months ago

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Why are you tormenting my kitchen??

~AO3~

Summary: Armand is fascinated by blenders. Who knew that there were many different types with different functions? Do they only blend liquid or flesh too? He must experiment.. to Daniel’s demise.

Contents: pov Armand, romantic, fluff, attempt at humour, armandaniel, Armand being Armand, blood, gore, not beta read, description of cutting someone up ^^’

a/n: I feel like Armand is like a little child, regarding discovering new technologies and finding joy in trying them out. | I wrote it totally self-indulgently. I have that urge in me to see Armand destroy Daniel’s (blender at first) kitchen 👁️v👁️

tagging: @okaytosave

~ English is my second language ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So Daniel, you grew up and lived in this era, which one is the best?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?”

“Well, I suppose you used these machines before.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I compared all brands in the world. “ — chuckled my fascinating boy. — “But buy that one. It’s the most expensive.”

We were standing in the Aisle of Blenders in Media Markt. Recently, I became spellbinded by this store. It showcasted the best and most popular technology on the market during those years. My love laughed at me many times, when waking at night and not finding me at our home, discovered me studying iPads in that store for hours to no end. How fastly changeable technology became! It felt like there were new updates to my iPad every month, new features were added which became more colourful, more easy to use and were more apps to choose from. Sims and Minecraft became my favorites to spend my time on. I created our own avatars, mine and Daniel’s, in Sims where we lived happily as a married couple. I even found a kitten, when I told Daniel about it, he simply asked me to make him a successful writer and ‘WooHoo’ him every night. He didn’t tell me what that meant. I need to check its meaning in the near future.

However, back to me and Daniel looking at blenders: When I got used to the innovations phones and tablets offered, I found my new interest stirred in kitchen items. I have to admit, I abandoned my interest in kitchen utensils. They remained more or less similar for hundreds upon hundreds of years, so I let my curiosity wander to other directions. Then sweet Daniel stepped into the timeless night of my life, introducing me to feelings I’ve been absent from, besides human contraptions I didn’t pay attention to. Such innovation was this engaging appliance called Blender.

As far as I understand, it can mix liquids and soft objects such as fruits and vegetables together. Mortals use these devices to create ‘smoothes’ and other drinks Daniel told me about. Sadly, they can’t break bones or other hard surfaces into tiny pieces. Believe me I tried, that was the reason me and Daniel were shopping for a new one.

“Are you still angry at me, love?” — I temporarily turned from the shelf to look at Daniel. He sighed deep, feeling frustration omitting from him rather than anger.

“No. But I’m getting a little vexed since you keep tormenting my kitchen.”

“I’m only experimenting my beloved.”

“Yeah, right” — The innocent voice I used had a nearly immediate effect on him. His eyes softened, and the aurora around him became a lovely pink coloured mess. — “Just buy more, so we don’t have to come here every night, hm?”

“Everything for you dear!”

“Sure, don’t have to be in my ass. Just choose 3 and let us go already.”

The night was hot and breathless, attacking our senses constantly with the noise of the beeping city. The streets were nearly as light as during the day in this new century, illuminated by hundreds of lamps, advertisements and closed shop windows.

As I was walking beside Daniel, carrying my “newly doomed Blenders” - as he tells me - in their boxes, I thought back on the previous night.

I was in the kitchen, while my beloved was still in our bedchamber. The sun just started leisurely sinking lower and lower on the darkening sky, painting it with pink and purple and then blue at last. While the shadows began climbing along the lengthy sides of buildings, I set up the kitchen.

My love already had a Blender in his home, which I borrowed for my investigation. I prepared a victim for the night: a young, muscular boy. Barely scraping the threshold of twenty, full of life and strength, his young face shining with his youthful years I’ll be draining out of him.

“Rest.”

My voice covered him gently from his curly head, till his long legs. He truly was a beautiful boy, one I’ve seen centuries ago in the palace of my Master. His muscles and mind relaxed, regardless of his integral struggle for life, while I opened up his wrist and let his warm blood fill several cups, I organised in the kitchen. I let his blood flow until his heart began to slow, losing his hopeless battle against his fate, until it fully stopped.

First, I poured one cup of his blood into the Blender, and turned on the machine. It began to buzz and whirl. It moved the blood around in circles, creating light bubbles in contrast to the shadowless.

It passed the first test. After emptying its container I added another cup of blood into it, then turned back to the body of the boy. With a knife in my hand, I let my gaze travel over his lifeless shell. His pink flesh lost colour and turned to gray, and his eyes which were filled with fearful tears a few minutes ago, now stared blankly at the ceiling. I let him free of his thin shirt, and opened up his delicate skin.

I put slim pieces of his muscles in the blood at first, then steadily increased the amount. The Blender succeeded these challenges, cutting the meat into smaller and smaller parts, until it became a bloody meat ‘smoothie’. I poured it into a new cup and started again.

At this time, I used his heart, lungs and a part of his brain in one session, mixing it with more blood. The machine seemingly struggled quite a bit, but mixed them nonetheless. It wasn’t as perfect as the previous one, but still liquid-y.

I continued experimenting with his other organs, the Blender struggling more and more, until it reached its breaking point.

It was bones that broke this interesting innovation.

I began with his blood again, and continued with adding tiny parts from his limb bones - which I smashed with my hands -, until I carried on with bigger bones: fingers, toes, and collar bones. However, as I added a forearm, it couldn’t pierce through the stone-hard surface of the white parts and its scales stopped while the motor still ran. I watched with wild wonder, while the buzzing got pregnant with panic, until it stopped with a sudden bang. The remains of the meat, blood and bones flew up in the air, and blanketed me and the kitchen furniture with a nasty, sloppy sound.

Oh no - I thought - I broke Daniel’s Blender, there is still time to buy him a new one. He isn’t using it anymore, so he won’t notice and then I clean—

“What the fuck has happened here?” — My beloved was standing at the door of our bedroom, arms crossed in front of his chest, sleep still heavy in his eyes. His gaze naturally traveled to me first, next on the body of the cut up form of my victim, until at last, traveled over the rain of dark red, thick wetness on the walls and ceiling.

“Daniel, I can expl—“

“What is this? Why are you tormenting my kitchen?!”

“I merely wanted to experiment dear. You showed me a lot about new technologies and the one that interested me the most was this apparatus called Blender! It moves and has knife-like edges inside and mixes substances! My beloved, you must understand I had to try! And what fascinating discoveries I made.”

Daniel stood there completely spellbounded, staring at me in the grotesque scene I created. For a long time he said nothing, until I saw the slight smile in the light of his eyes, which meant he wasn’t angry at all even though he tried to appear to be. A deep sigh which he didn’t need anymore, escaped his lungs while he roamed his gaze over me and our kitchen again.

“Alright, this is what we are going to do. First you clean this whole mess and then YOU buy a new blender. And I’m going to ask for a fucking expensive one, you can be sure of that.”

I couldn’t help, but giggle at his mocked fury, that imitation of frustration he forced on his lovely face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment we arrived home, I organised our new Blenders in the cabinets, taking out plates and glasses, just to put them back and find a new place for them. Daniel was enjoying my structuring skills with an open delight, from the dining table.

After I was done, I walked to him, sly as a cat, sitting on his lap and putting my arms around his neck.

“What?”

“Will you show me how to order from Amazon?”

“Why? “ — he eyed me with suspicion.

“I want to order a robotic eater!”

“Robotic eater? You mean a robot vacuum?”

“Yes! Please Daniel, I have to see if it really eats everything and moves around furniture.”

“God. What did I sign up for?”

My soft laugh disguised us from the outside world, leaving us in a light pink bubble.

#the vampire armand #the vampire armand fic #my writings #iwtv #interview with the vampire fic #interview with the vampire #iwtv fandom #iwtv fic #iwtv fanfiction #armandaniel #armand iwtv #armanddaniel #armand x daniel #vampire armand #daniel x armand #daniel molloy

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nanamis-bigtie · 1 month ago

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lucid love

↬ kinktober 2024 x voting event | round 6 | masterlist

cw: fantasy elements in modern setting, smut, sexual dreams, fictional stimulants, reader with a vagina, BDSM & dark themes present in some rounds, aged up characters available as options in some votings, further warnings vary by story summary: starved for more sensations, you appear in your now favorite potionary even when your night stand drawer is still filled with unopened potions. could it be a little addiction? a/n: i haven't been able to write lately because of mental health problems and i don't think i'll be ready to publish the fics before weekend hits - so i thought a new voting will dry tears at least just a little :') three winners (prev two rounds + this one) would be published one right after another as soon as i'll have enough peace of mind to create tag list: @thesacredfanfics

You haven't tested your two latest purchases yet. You couldn't properly relax and, knowing it may interrupt potion's effect, you decided to not waste your precious dreams. This is not the cheapest entertainment, after all.

Yet, you find yourself in front of the potionary again without a second thought. It's become your ritual and you're ready to assume that unplanned closing was the source of your latest stress. Lucid Love has been recognized as the safest among dream stimulants though, close to none addictive properties, confirmed by 1000 testers and unaffiliated reviews all over the social media. There's no way it could affect your brain with only three doses, not when you kept yourself in the line of instructions.

But here you are…

"Well, good evening." Shoko welcomes you with a warm smile. "I had a feeling you're going to appear as soon as I get my hands on those."

She waves herself a thick fan of leaflets, then spreads it on the counter.

"I've just got a delivery. Have you heard of the new collection? Oh, I bet you have. Everyone's talking about it."

You're not here because of it—but yes, you know what's the trendiest on the Lucid Love market. So far, every potion they introduced allowed you to "interact" with one person only, side characters appearing either as artificial memories or background, faceless noise.

But the new collection, released just yesterday and storming the socials like a tsunami, finally fulfilled the most demanded wish of customers: introduced a multiple partners fantasy option, up to even ten participants in the most exclusive models.

"Do you have any recs?" None of the titles of dream fantasies spells a word to you.

"Only to not get too wild, those haven't been reviewed well…yet." Shoko scoops some leaflets back into her hand and turns them, hiding the content away from your eyes. "How about a blind choice of three and a final decision out of them?"

Your fingers brush hers as you reach. Was it a little electric shock running between you two—or just your imagination?

The three leaflets quickly peel your attention away, though.

There are 45 prompt & character(s) combos divided into 15 votings, 3 options to choose from per each round. Option with the highest number of votes wins.Themes vary, from very vanilla, through kink and fetishes, towards dark content and monsterfucking. Everyone will (hopefully) find something for themself 😤

If you don't want to miss fic posting time and next votings, you can ask to be added to a tag list! I'll try to keep more or less the same time of publication (so, 3pm CET) but I can't promise I will always fit there.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x afab reader #jjk x afab reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jjk smut #bas writes #jjk #sinful #afab reader #lucid love

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icyhottodo · 1 year ago

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DAY AND NIGHT ˚₊✩‧₊

summary: you have always been in love with your best friend, but you weren’t sure if he liked you back due to his behavior of flirting with many people, including you. but you finally get your answer when isagi takes you out.

contains: f2l-ish, it's implied to but yeah LOL, gn reader, 1.6k words, pinning from both sides, isagi calls you love, pretty, and babe.

nini’s notes: i quite literally hate this but the idea was cute in my head ok? (๑•́o•̀๑) i wanted this song to feel like day & night by jung seunghwan! you guys should give it a listen. lastly, thank you to ri (@riabriyn) for proofreading <3

people often call teenagers and young adults in the prime of their lives. the reason why? because they are old enough to gain more freedom from their family, they can escape situations more easily.

summer break so far has been quite boring; the weather was too hot for you to go anywhere fun. you were lying carelessly on the floor of your living room, just staring at the ceiling. until isagi bursts into your home, happily walking in. your home is a second home to isagi, so knocking is unnecessary for him.

"y/n! get ready; we’re going somewhere!" isagi excitedly jumped onto you after he found you. you made an ‘oomph’ noise due to isagi’s sudden weight.

"where are we going?

"that, my love, is a secret." he climbs on top of you and puts his index finger on top of your lips, showing how much isagi wanted to keep it a surprise.

isagi tends to be touchy with you and quite often calls you pet names. this usually causes misunderstandings between your friends because they think that both of you are dating, but isagi would always clarify, saying the relationship was purely platonic. nonetheless, whenever he is close to you or gives you cute nicknames, it always makes your stomach churn, not knowing if that feeling is good or not.

you turn your head to the side to avoid looking at his charming smirk, but you can't help but hide a smile forming on your face. "alright, isagi."

isagi gets off you and sits right next to you, saying, "go get ready and make sure you dress warmly; we’ll stay there at night."

the next thing you know, you’re in isagi’s car, driving through the streets, recognizing the roads until you no longer know where you are. with the soothing music on the radio and isagi’s humming, you start to feel tired. your eyelids slowly close with time until you lose consciousness.

"hey there, sleepyhead." you can feel a hand run through your head, massaging your scalp. the action was so soothing, it almost made you fall asleep once again.

"woah there, don’t go sleeping on me again, love. come on; we’re here." isagi stops massaging your head, making you whine. nonetheless effectively waking you up. sleepily, you look around your surroundings. you quickly concluded that isagi had brought you to a small local fair located in a park. so everything around you was surrounded by grass, children, vendors, and many people.

"come on! i’ll buy you as many snacks as you want. but not those carnival games; they’re a scam." isagi warmly smiles at you, quickly adding to that last sentence about fair booths. isagi holds out his hand to pull out of his car while saying that. damn. there goes your heart again. you hope isagi isn’t able to hear your heart pounding this fast. you take isagi’s hand, not wanting to leave him hanging for too long.

most of the rides were kid-friendly, so you weren’t exactly out of energy. after deciding you two were done with rides, you two went for the carnival games, and you scanned through the prizes for each carnival booth, which mainly consisted of plushies until an award caught your eye. the reward was a plushie of one of your favorite animals, and it was huge.

coincidentally, you and isagi approached the very same booth with the plushie that had caught your eye. isagi looked at the carnival game, and to his surprise, the game was a kick-and-score booth. the way to win is basically in the name; in front of the player is a cardboard wall with a soccer net painted. finally, a circular hole was carved out right in the middle of the soccer goal. all isagi needed to do was kick the soccer ball into that hole.

"one soccer ball, please," isagi said while pulling out the required tokens to play. this made you turn to isagi in confusion. you thought earlier that isagi had said these carnival games were rigged. now he is suddenly playing them? perhaps isagi is playing this game because the game is related to soccer, as you assumed.

and you weren't surprised when isagi’s soccer ball fits right through the carved-out hole, assuming that's why he won through the vigorous training he went through in blue lock. "wow, it's not easy to make that goal, kid." the booth keeper stated in awe. "which prize do you want? you can get anything." the booth keeper showed isagi all of the prizes he could choose from, but without a thought, isagi pointed at the very same plushie you were staring at minutes ago. your face quickly morphs into shock when isagi excitedly turns to you, handing over the plushie he worked so hard to gain.

"here, it's for you," isagi hesitantly said with an evident blush on his face. flustered by his actions, you still gratefully took the stuffed animal with a wide smile.

"thank you, isagi." you held the present up to your chest and held it tightly. you never mentioned anything about the plushie to isagi. but when you two approached the booth, isagi noticed that you were just staring at the prize you wanted. in his mind, he instantly knew he wanted to win that prize to make you happy. he’ll do anything to see you smile. "you two are such a cute couple. reminds me of me and my wife."

immediately, you and isagi turned to each other in confusion before turning back to the carnival booth keeper. right when you were about to deny the allegations of you two being a couple, isagi beat you to it.

"thank you." you blankly stared at isagi, taking a few seconds to comprehend what he just said. but before you could realize what he had said, isagi pulled you away and started to walk away before you could deny anything to the carny.

you didn’t know whether to say anything or not. opting to choose the first option, feigning ignorance about whatever happened earlier. isagi didn’t even approach any other carnival game after the first game.

you two continued to walk around the fair, eating some cotton candy or freshly made popcorn, until the sun started to set. isagi confidently interlocks his hand with yours, and he starts leading you away from the rides and off to the grassier areas. you can see people setting up blankets or even tents on the grass throughout the park. once you two found a clear spot, isagi let go of your hand and said, "hold on, i’ll be right back soon."

you stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. you waited for a few minutes until isagi ran back to you, holding two thick blankets between his arm and chest; the other was a picnic box. "here... i got these... for you." isagi puffs out from what you can safely assume was because of the running.

you helped isagi lay the blanket on the grass, and the two of you sat on it. isagi places the woven basket right in between the basket and opens it to grab something inside. you soon find out what isagi was looking for when isagi pulls out two white cloths along with two candles.

"we’re making lanterns!" isagi showed the white cloths excitedly. "it's a lantern festival." isagi continued, his hand gesturing to the people around you guys. when you looked you noticed each blanket had at least one shining light on them. you look up at the sky, and you can see the stars shining. you were brought back to reality when isagi jokingly accused you and asked, "babe, are you not going to help me build your lantern?"

you rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance, before scooting over closer to where isagi sat. in the midst of setting them up, isagi says, "we’re supposed to let these lanterns float at..." isagi checks the time on his watch: "eleven p.m., so in five minutes or so."

the time seemed to pass by quickly since you started to see people stand up and let their lanterns start to fly. you two start to get ready to release the lanterns. you hold the bottom of the lantern’s cloth and gently lift the light into the air with the countdown with isagi’s.

"wow." you exclaimed in awe, "the lanterns look so pretty." once the two your eyes sparkled from all the light from the lanterns and the stars.

isagi wished he had taken a photo of you; instead of looking at the lanterns, he was admiring you. his eyes stay on you and nothing else. "yeah, they look extremely pretty."

you noticed that isagi’s tone sounded a bit dreamy, which made you turn to him. who was already looking at you. your eyes widen slightly from seeing isagi turn pink from being caught by you; you were lucky to catch a glimpse of a flustered isagi because of all the lanterns. you laughed nervously. did isagi mean that you’re pretty? "isagi, you’re not even looking at the sky. how can you claim that the sky is pretty?"

"i mean, you are pretty."

#☆ bllk #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #blue lock x y/n #blue lock scenarios #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #isagi x you #isagi yoichi #isagi x reader #bllk isagi #blue lock isagi #isagi x y/n #bllk x you #blue lock x you

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quirkle2 · 6 months ago

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I was wondering if there are any rare happy ritsu moments in ur zombie au since hes always miserable I think,, like is he always miserable or is he happy/not miserable and feeling kinda good sometimes?

VWHDGDGD NO YEAH OFC HE'S HAPPY SOMETIMES im just horrible and enjoy putting him through misery

ive never been able to get a genuine smile to look right on his face in my art style either i think thats part of it. as ive said his face is just built to be mildly uncomfortable and bothered and i lean into it sm it's starting to get kinda funny

but yes ritsu is happy plenty! i think, canonically, he just seems like the type of person to me that tends to turn lemonade back into lemons. he's easy to scare and his first reaction to things is often Dread and Anxiety. he dwells on the negatives a lot and seems to be a "hope for the best, expect the worst," kinda guy, but there's a section in this post abt shigeo always loving the little things in life, and ritsu steadily learns throughout the journey on how to do that and how healing it can rly be. even if he had to grow up too fast during this whole thing and learn things a kid should never have to, the journey also gave him some good insight and lessons in other places! ritsu is smart, he figures it all out

in terms of little things here n there he's the happiest lil guy on the planet when he finds one of his favorite foods—swings his legs while he sits and munches on a kitkat bar like he's got absolutely nothin in the world to worry abt. sometimes mob does smth funny that he laughs at; for the longest time i've had this silly image in my head of mob accidentally knocking down a bucket from a store shelf and it lands on his head and he just kinda stands there and makes noises.when the noises continue out of pure curiosity about the weird echoey quality it's giving them ritsu cannot help but lose it

besides tiny things tho, when tome comes around ritsu in general is a lot happier, just cuz he has somebody to talk to that will actually respond in some way. they're sorta reluctant partners in crime at first (at least on ritsu's end) but over time and over bonding they grow to rly like each other's presence. they bicker constantly but it's almost always fond eventually, and they shove each other and playfight until mob gets antsy enough to get worked up about it. rly, tome is a godsend to ritsu's mental health—after months and months of being effectively alone with his thoughts, he finally has another person to converse with. a person His Age, too!

tome is rly good at knowing when ritsu is thinkin himself into oblivion and she's Also rly good at being the most annoying girl on the planet to yank him outta that and replace any misery with Oh My God Get Off Me You Freak. she doesn't even do this on purpose at first, but over time she learns how to tell when he's thinking too hard and, ofc, she's grown attached and she cares, so she's as obnoxious as possible to lighten the mood

when they find reigen n teru, ritsu gradually gets Much happier still. now that he knows they're safe and the gang is finally back together (and now that there's an Adult present and he can relax a lil and let himself be taken care of) his stress levels r exponentially lowered. having teru back is another instant lift to his mood—im always a big fan of teru and ritsu friendship, and i think adding tome to their dynamic simply makes it more chaotic. truly a trio of the 3 most normal teenagers in existence which will surely bring nothing but good (reigen sweats offscreen)

actually this makes me feel bad for forever torturing him im gonna go draw happy zau ritsus brb ,.,.ok imback <3

#qktalks #anon #zombie au #tw guns #<- for that glock in the corner . sorry #actually it looks like he's at gunpoint in that one and just going teehee about it #he looooooves tormenting tome .and tome loves tormenting him. it's their favorite pastimes #i don't rly like the second one too much tbh the sleeves are weird but i think that's just the Nature of how poofy they can get #oh this is a great time to talk abt their dynamic. sorry.this ask isn't abt that.but now it is #so i realize that tome and ritsu ??? don't rly interact in canon at all. and neither do tome and teru . as a matter of fact #but consider. uhm.what ifthey did <3 GVYIEAV #like i said they're all So incredibly normal it'll make for a great time #^ genuinely i do think so actually. most of the time anyway #i touched on it a lil bit in recondite but i rly like the idea of mob ritsu tome and teru all being a friend group #teru would undoubtedly piss tome off sometimes she'd call him out on his bullshit #but like.in terms of the canon timeline i think post-mob teru would Totally listen to her #and take what she says abt How he is into consideration. he's trying to rebuild himself into somebody better #teru and ritsu already have a dynamic in canon but it feels pretty loose and it isn't fully explored at all #i think they work together rly well tho. there's no real evidence to the contrary iirc i think they work together in canon quite well #they think alike in terms of fighting #and in a setting like this‚ once teru is on the same page as ritsu on zombies‚ they're prolly a pretty damn good team #there's a lot of room for things to go wrong tho #if i had to sum it up rly succinctly it'd be: ritsu's motive is fear‚ tome's motive is curiosity‚ and teru's motive is power #what i mean by teru's being power is Not the pre-mob teru ''wanting'' to be powerful and unstoppable #i mean teru wants to have power over everything that is trying to hurt them #he doesn't Want to cower he wants to Fight tooth and nail #and i think ritsu's fear versus tome's curiosity and teru's drive of power conflicts a lot #ritsu is passive in the sense that he'll do anything in his power to avoid altercations with anything to order to keep mob safe #he isn't Active until something goes Wrong. and usually things go Wrong when teru and tome rush ahead #WOW sorry i went on a rant that was Completely unrelated to the fucking question. im at the 30 tag limit bye

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hrefna-the-raven · 7 months ago

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Heart of Steel

Fallout masterlist - main masterlist

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Song for this chapter:

Summary: You pay Goodneighbor a visit, meeting up with Nick in the Memory Den to find out where the Institute is hiding, hoping to save your son. Meanwhile something as simple as a visit to Goodneighbor proves challenging for someone with the mindset of Elder Maxson. He made a promise but keeping it might crack deeper into what Arthur truly wanted.

Warnings: smut (18+), violence (although Finn deserves it), a lot of feel feels

Notes: sorry for the length of this chapter^^ but there'll be smut at the end as a reward ;)

Chapter 7 - Dangerous minds

You nervously paced up and down in front of the entrance of Goodneighbor, jumping at every little noise around you. Your hand instinctively reached for the pistol in the holder on your hip as someone emerged from around the corner. As the person drew nearer, you noticed that it was a tall man with dark brown hair. The sides of his head were shaved, while the hair on top was slightly longer with a few strands that fell in his face. A snug white t-shirt clung to his well trained torso, covered by a worn black leather jacket. His dirty blue jeans clung tightly to his legs and his boots were worn and covered in dirt and scratches. As he approached, you caught sight of a long scar on his right cheek and only then did you relax, removing your hand from the pistol.

"Arthur", you greeted him with a smile, "you look...different."

"Different enough that you were ready to shoot me", he grinned, "I suppose that means I've been successful."

You thought he was already good looking before but that clean shaved face took it to a whole new level. No beard to hide that wonderful sharp jawline, perfectly contouring his face, making him look more his age. You were positively surprised how many years his beard had added to his appearance. As your finger traced over his scar, he suddenly became self-conscious, realising that most of it had been hidden beneath his dark facial hair for so long. Memories of how he'd barely managed to defeat that deathclaw seven years ago violently flooded his mind, causing his hands to tremble and his vision to blur as sheer panic caused by the flashback flooded his entire body.

"Don't worry about that", you spoke softly as you kept touching his scar, "I actually think it adds to your rugged charm. Although, at some point, I would love to hear the story behind it."

You placed a tender kiss on his lips and felt the tension melt away. Arthur let out a nervous chuckle, surprised at how you were able to have such a calming effect on him. Just a simple kiss managed to wash away the painful memories of his encounter with one of the most dangerous creatures in the Wastelands.

You made your way through the creaky worn wooden door but only a few steps in, your way was blocked by a scarred bald man in road leathers. He casually lit his cigarette, his eyes scanning between Arthur and yourself, lingering as he examined your appearance.

"Welcome to Goodneighbor, Sweetie. Can't go walking around without an insurance. It would be a shame if something happened to you."

The disgustingly smug smile he gave you made you want to punch this dude straight away but you knew better than to start trouble in this place, especially with the Brotherhood's Elder by your side.

"Unless it's “keep-dumb-assholes-away-from-me” insurance, I'm not interested", you shrugged nonchalantly, trying to keep a neutral expression as you heard Arthur laugh next to you.

“Careful babyface!”, he pointed at Maxson before turning his attention back to you, that greasy smile reappearing, “now don't be like that, sweetie, I think you're going to like what I have to offer.”

“Whoa, whoa, time out, Finn!”, Hancock laughed as he strolled towards you, “my favourite Vaultie makes a rare visit to town and you're hassling her and her friend here with that crap? Good to see you again”, he winked at you.

“What d'you care? She ain't one of us and he ain't either! You're soft Hancock, one day there'll be a new mayor in town”, Finn took a few steps towards the ghoul, raising his arms provocatively.

“Come on, man. This is me we're talking about. Let me tell you something.”

Hancock now stood mere inches away from Finn when he swiftly pulled out a dagger from beneath his coat and began thrusting it into Finn's body until it went limp and collapsed onto the pavement, a dark crimson pool forming around it. The ghoul wiped the knife clean on the corpse and slid it back under his coat, a genuine friendly broad smile gracing his lips now as he approached you with open arms and to hug you tightly.

“You alright, sister?”, a concerned tone in his voice as he inspected you before addressing Arthur, “don't let this little incident taint your view of our little community. Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone's welcome.”

“Of the people, for the people? Oh brother...”, Maxson grumbled.

Hancock burst into laughter before playfully slapping Arthur's shoulder.

“Same as her, he he, I can tell I'm gonna like you already. Your room's ready at my humble State House, courtesy of being the mayor. Old Nick's waiting at the Memory Den. And be sure to pay a visit to The Third Rail, trouble always seems to find your little merc MacCready.”

“He's not mine, you know”, you chuckled as you watched Hancock make his way toward the State House.

You wanted to head straight to meet up with the detective but Maxson's fingers wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you closer.

“You're...friend...is a ghoul”, he whispered with disdain.

The sudden hostility in his tone should have shocked you but upon seeing the sorrow in his eyes, you knew exactly where this was coming from. Those were words that sprouted from the seeds of military indoctrination sown in the mind of a child who ever only got to see the worst of each supposed enemy. It reminded you that war was not the only thing that never changed.

“Quite the deduction skills, Captain Obvious”, you teased him, refusing to play into his hateful statement.

“But-”, he started but you cut him off.

“You made a promise to me yesterday. Now I kindly ask of you to leave the Elder at the Prydwen and let Arthur follow me”, you said with a mocking bow, sticking out your tongue before taking his hand and leading him towards the Memory Den.

A surge of righteous outrage swelled within his chest, roaring in anger as it fought against the audacity of your response. It felt ridiculed, left alone in a dark corner with the nagging voice of doubt that had grown louder in recent times. He did make a promise yesterday and despite suspecting that this journey would challenge everything he believed in, he still chose to accompany you. He had to buck up on his ideas, at least for now, for you and his own sake.

The glowing yellow circles in the otherwise lifeless eyes, the grimy worn pallor of the artificial skin, exposing pieces of complex machinery on the places it was torn. Arthur recognised the synth for what it was immediately, his stomach only twisting further as it presented itself as detective Nick Valentine, friend of yours. It didn't take him long to connect the dots between this machine and the first discussion you had with him about the synth. This was one of the Institute's abominations and, at the very same time, the one saving your life multiple times. And now here it was waiting for you, ready to risk its own life yet again to help you find and rescue your son from the clutches of the very institution it should be loyal to. Your answer on your first day finally had a face to it, the face of a discarded machine and that of a truth he kept denying vehemently. His mind held countless reasons to hate every synth, everything created by the Institute, but his heart began to waver, secretly driving the wedge between his convictions and yours deeper, leaving him struggling to find out which version of reality would ultimately prevail.

"Don't worry, they'll both be alright ", doctor Amari assured, a smile on her face as she continued to observe you, delving deeper into Kellogg's memories, "although I have a feeling that one of them is more important to you."

Arthur's gaze never wavered from your form, afraid to even blink for fear of missing a moment where you might be in danger, beyond his reach.

“I know who you are.”

He finally dared to look away from you towards the doctor, his lips parting but the words failed him. What did he even want to tell her? That he couldn't care less if she knew? That nothing she could say would sway him from the path he had set the Brotherhood on? That even if he wished to stray from that path, he couldn't? He was trapped, his name, its legacy, hanging like a bleak prophetic shadow over him, regardless of what he truly wanted.

“But I also know”, Amari continued, “that she made the decision to bring you here and I will place my trust in her judgment. What she has done so far, the people she has helped, there is an honest heart and open-minded soul within her.”

“And what do you think happens now?”, he finally found his voice, his words escaping in a faint and uneasy whisper.

His mind failed him, trapped in the worries around you in this moment, he didn't have the energy to summon the soldier he was expected to be.

“Nothing”, Amari chuckled, her laughter filled with a mix of amusement and reassurance, “I will keep a watchful eye on you, but as long as you care for her and show respect to those residing here, you will be welcomed. We are not the Brotherhood; we don't immediately resort to violence against those who hold different beliefs, or physiology for that matter. ”

His eyes darted to the screen just in time to see the courser vanishing with Shaun.

“Teleportation”, he muttered under his breath.

“Now it all makes sense. Nobody's found the entrance to the Institute because there IS no entrance.”, Amari spoke, her fingers swiftly tapping on the buttons of her computer as she spoke into the microphone next to the screen , “let me pull you out of there.”

Arthur couldn't tear his eyes away from Magnolia, slowly draining his drink as her voice and music hypnotised him further. The sultry tone dancing around the swinging rhythm lured him deeper into the depths of his own musings. It felt different hearing the music directly sang by someone pouring their soul into the song and touching others with a directness a radio could never replicate. He huffed, after this day, he was truly wondering if the singer was even human or one of those damned machines. He wouldn't know anymore and he grew too tired to think about it... To claim that this day had been exhausting would have been an understatement. It had been a long time since he'd experienced the world the way he did today. The Brotherhood had always kept him busy, even more so since he was appointed Elder, but despite being out there in the world, he never truly saw it. Yet, in spite of his fatigue, a part of him still yearned to leap from his seat and return to the Prydwen, armed with the newfound knowledge he had acquired to further his war against the Institute. He groaned instead, shifting his gaze from Magnolia to the empty glass he twirled between his fingers.

Your hands gently caressed his shoulder, your tender gesture prompting the first smile since both of you left the Memory Den. He seemed more quiet than usual, out of place, his usual cockiness stripped away and it caused a flicker of uncertainty within you. You questioned whether it was the right decision to bring him here but then again, these people became your allies, some of them friends, and if he was to be a part of you, he needed to witness and embrace everything that came with it. You nuzzled your face in the side of his neck, trailing kisses up to his ear.

"Mac's still not here and I'm getting tired, let's head back to our room", you whispered, leading him to the State House.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Maxson flung his jacket onto the armchair in the corner and collapsed onto the bed, absorbed in a mist of thoughts while he stared at the crumbling plaster of the ceiling, only lifting his head when he felt the mattress shift under a weight at its edge. He swallowed a groan as he watched as you crawled on top of him, gradually moving until you were lying upon him, placing a long tender kiss on his lips. The pressure and warmth of your body weighing down on him washed over his mind, clearing a path for his insatiable longing for you.

"Arthur", you breathed sultry, your eyes finding his.

There was a subtle shift in the depth of your stare, beneath the vast ocean of your deep affection, there lingered something more intense - a yearning that he had grown all too familiar with since you entered his life. Away from the ceaseless hum of the Prydwen's engine, with no danger of being interrupted by anyone at any time, the realisation of just how much you wanted to be close to him, to melt into him without ever leaving again, hit you with an overwhelming force. You moved slightly to the side, causing a gasp to escape his lips as he felt your hand gently stroke his clothed member. It didn't take long before his growing bulge felt almost painful against the confines of the tight jeans. Biting his lower lip, he watched as you unbutton his pants before pulling them down along with his underwear. The sudden coolness of the room against his throbbing erection caused him to inhale sharply; you had barely touched him, yet he was already teetering dangerously close to his limit.

"May I?", you asked, licking your lips as you settled between his thighs.

Arthur had no idea what you were implying but he knew he'd take whatever you offered him. He hissed as your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, swallowing it slowly until all of it was buried in the wet warmth of your mouth. He'd touched himself many times in the solitude of his quarters but this felt unlike any pleasure he was ever able to give himself.

"I...I...I don't know for how long I can take this", he stuttered, "I've never been with anyone, not like this."

His confession tugged at your heartstrings. Here you were, lying in bed with the one man, whose Brotherhood almost lifted him into the realm of legends due his deeds and leadership, bare before each other in a rare moment of vulnerability of him admitting that you were the very first to grant him this kind of intimacy. It saddened you, realising that this man, whose soul revealed a profound connection and gentle nature, had never been seen in this light by anyone before. Despite the Brotherhood's reverence and adoration for him, they failed to recognise the beauty within his soul. But he'd no longer be alone for he had you now. You continued bobbing your head, twirling your tongue around the tip each time. You barely managed to do this five times before you felt his cock twitch, his warm release filling your mouth as the sound of your name mingled with long sinful moans dripping from his lips. You eagerly swallowed every drop he offered, and with one final lick, you crawled back to lie beside him, offering him a gentle smile. It took him a few deep breaths to recover before he settled on his knees, slowly starting to undress you before taking off his own t-shirt, leaving both of you completely bare before each other. His steel-blue gaze trailed over you body, brows furrowed as if he desperately tried to burn every little detail of you into his memories while his hands trailed over your soft skin. He remembered a part of that book he once stole in the Citadel, eager to try if those old words held any truth. Leaning in, he licked and sucked on your nipple while his hand ventured down between your legs, two fingers slowly dragging through your folds. His inexperienced touch and movements might have been slightly rough and uncoordinated, but they elicited the sweetest moans from you. He noticed that that every time his fingertips grazed against your clit, your legs quivered ever so slightly and your moans grew needier. You opened your eyes at the sudden lack of his touches and found him staring at his fingers, coated with your wetness. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you witnessed his fascination with something so ordinary, highlighting how his life must have been devoid of intimacy all these years.

"All for you", you whispered, earning a genuine smile from him.

"Do you truly want this?", he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

You remained silent, aware that words alone would never be enough to convey the depth of your desires in this moment. Instead, you pushed him onto his back, straddling him as you pressed your wetness against his cock, grinding against it and feeling him grow hard again.

"There is nothing I want more than being here with you, feeling you, loving you", you breathed, pausing your movements, "you're all I ever wanted."

Arthur's heart felt as if it were on the verge of shattering at your words. He had been going through life without ever experiencing such affection and tenderness. For the first time, he felt truly wanted, even loved, not just for his name, his purpose, but for his soul, his own true essence.

"I don't recognise that feeling plaguing my heart and mind but if this is truly love", a teardrop welled up in the corner of his eye, "then allow me to tell you that I love you."

You positioned his cock at your entrance, moaning his name, feeling him stretch you perfectly as his cock was sliding deep inside you. His hands clasped unto your hips, fingers digging into your supple flesh while he held you in place for a moment, overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure. Your walls clenched around his twitching cock and you slowly began moving, placing your hands on his chest while your gaze locked onto his. Arthur began thrusting his hips upwards, anticipating your movements. The lewd sounds of him thrusting deep inside your wetness filled the room, entangling with the heavy breaths and lustful moans. Arthur watched your head fall back in pleasure as you rode him and he couldn't care for anything anymore in this very moment. The Brotherhood, his war, held no significance at this moment, all he cared for was the closeness to you, the love which bound you together and the heavenly bliss you had brought upon him. Both of you approached the edge fast and your moans grew louder as both of you finally plunged into the abyss of purest pleasure. Panting, you tried to get off him but Arthur pulled you down on him, his arms wrapping around you, holding you in a tight hug, both of you surrendering to the irresistible lure of slumber.

Chapter 8 - why do fools fall in love?

Feel free to reblog if you enjoyed the story :)

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toomuchracket · 1 year ago

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Adding to the flatmate picnic ask, I think it’s pre condom gate so he bursts into her bedroom in the morning like ‘wake up! It’s picnic day!’

Fluff request! A picnic with flatmate. I bet he even insists you guys bake a cake to bring with you. And he defo makes chocolate covered strawberries the night before, putting them in the fridge to set.

this is so so sweet!! i think this is early spring, just after easter, and you both have a free couple of days and the weather is nice, and so you quite tentatively poke your head round the door of matty's room to be like "do you fancy... going for a picnic with me tomorrow? thought it might be fun". and matty's face just softens into a really sweet smile like "yeah!" and he jumps up like "wait can we make cake to bring with us?" and you're like "YES great idea let's do it"; the two of you go to the kitchen and make some little chocolate cupcakes (you have to intervene before matty adds all the cocoa powder to the already-moving stand mixer at once and makes a mess), then melt down your remaining easter eggs to make cornflake krispie cakes and - at matty's request - chocolate-covered strawberries. he kinda takes charge on those, and he lets you eat one before they go in the fridge; he has to distract himself with the dishes right after, though, because you get a little bit of chocolate on the side of your mouth and all he can think about is kissing it off. but yeah, the next morning matty's so so excited to have the cutest day with you and pretend he's your boyfriend - he's awake early, he takes his time picking out an outfit (because he knows you'll have some gorgeous little dress or something on) and making sure his hair looks cute before he bursts into your room at 8am like "morning sweetheart! come on, time to get up, it's picnic day". and he's trying so hard not to melt at how cutely grumpy you look, bleary-eyed and wild-haired and adorable in your cute pyjamas; you also take note of how cute matty looks, which softens the blow of being abruptly awoken. you're like "is there coffee?" and matty's like "duh who tf do you think i am?", and you grin and give him a little hug as you slide past him to get to the caffeine like "you look very handsome today, by the way. that t-shirt makes your eyes look really pretty", which naturally makes matty blush like a teenage girl lol. he takes charge of making sandwiches and assembling all the picnic snacks while you get ready, and tries so hard not to straight-up swoon when you reappear in a cap-sleeve sundress - naturally, it's your turn to blush when matty calls you beautiful. and the picnic itself is so cute! you wander down to a nearby park and settle yourselves on the grass near the pond (you get very excited when you see the ducks, and subsequently throw a napkin at matty's head when he likens you to tony soprano because of it), and probably take some cute pics of the other with all the cakes and strawberries and sandwiches lol. and you chat and joke as you work your way through the contents of the cool bag, sharing cigs when you feel like it; when it comes to the strawberries matty made yesterday, you're insistent on feeding him the first one, which both of you are internally like "this is relationship behaviour but who gives a shit" about. that is, until matty moans at the taste and you realise you're practically sitting on his lap, at which point you scooch back and busy yourself by trying a strawberry too - fine for you, but the little content noise you make and the way your lips wrap around the berry has a ridiculous effect on matty lmao. but within a couple of minutes you're back chatting as normal, you repeatedly refusing matty's requests to "race to that tree there and back" and the two of you petting a dog that bounds over to you happily, just enjoying the lovely day together <3

#mads muses #mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #flatmate!matty

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ga-u-1737 · 10 months ago

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The Silent Idol: Stuck in a mind of Stardom

Chapter 3

Crimp placed the cooked syrup pancakes on the table next to Veneer, adding a fruity face of blueberries and cutted strawberries on the top.

“Sorry this took so long, I was trying to make it more appealing and how do I say this…more happy?” Crimp said, hopping off of the table.

The pancakes looked delicious, warm and steaming with the fruit providing the sweetness to compliment the savory batter of the food.

Veneer looked at the dish, hearing his stomach growl and yell with hunger and starvation. He didn’t eat dinner yesterday, still shaking the awful thoughts of the situation his sister is in. But he needs to eat, he can’t leave without an empty stomach, he has to be there for Velvet somehow.

He fixed his posture and slowly ate the pancakes, the flavorful taste filled around his mouth as he tasted every bite. The syrup sweetness mixed with the berries made him slightly better.

He placed his fork down as he finished the last bit of his food. He felt a little better with the breakfast Crimp made lifting his mood up a little He’s still shaken with the vents of the Rage Dome Show, but the pancakes had a slight effect on him and help him calm down his emotions of the whole ordeal

“Thanks for the meal Crimp,” Veneer said, putting down his utilities

He took a sigh of relief and got up from his seat, grabbing his purse and walking towards the door.

He hoped that everything will turn out okay, hoping that Velvet is okay and would make an easy recovery and her injuries aren’t as bad as he thinks.

“Please be okay Velvet, I’m really worried.” Veneer thought to himself, heading out the door.

The busy streets were bustling, speedy cars were racing across the road, people were catching buses trying to get to the place they were heading to. Traffic noise was loud and eerie, with horns and honking and engines driving.

Flying speedy cars were chasing around the unsteady road, which is usually driven by immature teenagers and young adults, it was either frustrating for other Mount Rageons walking

“I’m walking here you know!”

“Slow down, I’m trying to cross!”

“Those damn teenagers...”

The active atmosphere was filled with activity, noise, and movement, the howling wind drifting making the trees swift sway(If there are trees that is), making it difficult to focus sometimes.

Trying to ignore the wild chaos, Veneer slowly walked through the crowded streets; a lot of people noticed him walking around, some were even a bit shocked and surprised.

It was clearly unusual and new for him to walk in the routes of Mount Rageous, he usually drove around his limbo or mostly stayed inside, stepping onto the frantic freeways was quite hard and difficult for him to do.

But that didn’t bother him that much, his mind still filled with Velvet’s condition wondering how she was. He was excited to see her again but was a bit nervous at the same time.

He hadn't seen her since the accident and wasn’t sure if he was ready for him to see her in an injured state. He prayed that everything would be okay for his only sister’s well-being.

"Please be alright...please be alright sis." He thought to himself.

He wasn’t able to think further as he found himself standing in the waiting room, he quietly sat down in an empty chair patiently waiting for an update from his sister

The atmosphere was heavy, making him feel uneasy. He scanned around the room that full of other people either also visiting from their loved ones or friends, or just coming back in after they passed away. Veneer didn't want to go through that, having to see sister again only for her to die on the hospital bed.

He sighed slowly, trapped inside his own thoughts again, everything seemed chaotic and noisy, but his concern was the only thing at the forefront.

The thought of what he might see made him anxious and hesitant, but he also couldn’t stand the thought of not being by her, especially during a event like this. He quickly fixed his composure and grabbed one of the fashion magazines near him, hoping to distract himself for a bit.

“Hey,I’m here to see Velvet?” A random voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The familiar appearance with short purple hair and violet eyes caught his attention. He looked more closely at her, his eyes quenched, he didn’t recognize at first until he realized who it was.

Orchid.

She was standing beside the reception desk, her eyes darting across the room quite frantically, face of worry and troubleness as if she was looking for something important to her.

“Yes, miss?” The receptionist said, typing on her computer, “You wanted to visit who?”

“Um, oh! Yes, I’m here to visit Velvet.” Orchid sputtered,

“Are you a family or close friend or…”

“Partner!” She shouted before she saw everyone looking at her, “Sorry, I’m her girlfriend.”

The receptionist nodded her head, typing quickly on her computer. “You can sit next to him, he’s also visiting her at the moment.”

Orchid immediately spotted Veneer and sat right next to him, she fixed her posture to look nice and kind.

After all, she is visiting one of the two famous superstars and is dating one of them…in secret that is.

It was a bit awkward to say the least, seeing your sibling's partner and being next to each other made it if not a bit uncomfortable. Especially since you and the partner haven't met and talked at all.

But this was a bit surprising to Veneer, first thing he noticed was she wasn’t all crazy and fangirly when she saw him, mostly she was because she was a huge fan of him and his sister like mostly everyone who was at their concerts and meet and greets, and when she realized she was dating her favorite celebrity, she went absolutely feral.

But today? She was not like this, acting calm, hushed and seemed like a different person almost . Of course she was worried and sad after hearing about the Rage Dome Show, but wasn’t hysterically crying or sobbing,

“Hey.” she started, hoping to gain a conversation with him.

“Um…Hey” Veneer spoke quietly, also barely making contact. “I suppose you're also visiting Velvet as well.”

She nodded her head in response, “Of course when I heard about the accident I was shocked like everyone else, I was there seeing it all.” Veneer averted away in embarrassment

“What I mean is that I was definitely upset and saddened about what happened and I wanted to see her to see if she’s alright or at least alive.” Orchid chuckled nervously, she clenched her hands with a bag of flowers, and a ‘Get Well soon’ card stabled on it.

Veneer saw the flowers and the card Orchid had, curious as to why she brought them.

“Is there a reason why you bought those flowers and a card?” he asked.

“I just thought Velvet might like them.” She responded, showing the gifts. “Heard that she likes roses, especially the ones that are blooded red, so I went through a lot of flower shops to find the exact kind of roses she would like, and I made the card myself.”

Veneer took the roses from Orchid, admiring them a bit.

“These roses look lovely Orchid, I'm sure that Velvet would love them” He slightly smiled.

Orchid answered with a nod and a big smile on her face. She hoped that her gift will make Velvet feel better and make her forget about the accident a little bit, even though she obviously won't.

“Do you know if Velvet is gonna be okay?” Orchid asked.

“I don't know.” Veneer answered, “Visiting hours were almost over and the nurse told me that she was gonna update me about her.” He shook his head slightly, worried. “I just hope that she is gonna be okay.”

“Is there a Veneer and Orchid here?” A doctor walked into the waiting room, holding a clipboard full of notes and documents of Velvet and her health, “Veneer and Orchid?”

“We’re here,” Orchid immediately responded, holding Veneer’s hand as approached the doctor, eager to hear about her health.

Veneer took a deep breath, calming down his nerves before asking about Velvet. She didn’t want him to see him full of panic and distress but he also wanted to see if she is at least okay and not dead.

“Are there any updates on my sister?’ He inquired, the worry clearly on his face "Is she gonna be okay?”

The doctor looked down at the notes, reading them carefully. He looked at them with a light expression, “She is stable, is breathing fine, responsive and her vitals are looking good.” He went silent before continuing “But her condition is still serious, she has sustained some pretty major injuries from her brain, and she can’t fully move her head at all times to avoid any complications.”

Veneer sighed again, wiping small tears from his eyes. “Can we see her though?” He pled, desperate to see his sister.

The doctor nodded his head with a faint smile. “You may see her now, her room is 134, please follow me ” He added

Relieved, Orchid and Veneer followed the doctor to Velvet's room, where she was resting for now.

He slightly opened the door to her room, the light was dimmed, the room feeling somber and melancholy, a glass of water and some uneaten food was on the counter with a nurse quickly checking up and writing notes before walking out

"I would like for you to keep the visitation brief, she needs to heal and recover first, and she just got out of surgery a few hours ago." The doctor explained, before letting them be and walking out as well.

In the bed was Velvet, her long green hair was escating down her back, an IV and patient monitor attached to her arm, giving her fluids and checking her vitals and heart rate. Two bandages soaked with dry blood wrapped around her head, one covering her left eye that was left uncovered from the accident.

She herself was lying down on her hospital bed, covering herself with the bedsheets, her eyes red and puffy and her face soaked from crying last night. Her body weak and fragile from surgery, her skin pale and dull, looking lifeless.

Seeing her in agony upsetted Veneer and Orchid.

He rushed to her bed, unable to control his own emotions “Omg Velvet!” He screamed, holding her hand with a few of his own tears falling down his light face. Their eyes meeting each other as she slowly opened hers

"V-Veneer…” Velvet tries to speak, her voice hoarse and raspy almost hard to hear. But seeing her little brother by her side made her weep and sob, and seeing Orchid made more tears go down faster from her eyelids.

“Oh Velvet sweetie.” Orchid soothed, she sat at a nearby chair as she stroked her lime-emerald like hair.

Veneer pulled his sister into a tight hug, her tears falling down on his expensive clothes, he wants to say something that will lighten the darkened mood.

“Velvet, I’m so sorry.” He lamented, wiping her lavender eyes, “Please don’t cry, it's going to be okay, I’m here. He added, hoping to see a small smile from her or atleast seeing her happy.

Velvet didn’t respond, even if she tried to speak she wouldn't be able to let out a word or 2. Instead she just squeezed her brother's hand, as if trying to get comfort and consolation from him.

“I…It…Every-”

“Shh..please don’t talk okay, save your strength. Veneer sighed one more time, brushing her hair softly, soothing her, his voice laced with fear of what was going to come for his sister.

He didn’t want to let go or leave her, having to see her in this much pain upsets him truly. Her breathing was slow, shallow and shaky, still shaken up about the accident and the soreness all over her body itself. He felt the guilt all over again, the whole incident was already painful but her sister covered in aches and discomfort was too harsh and cruel to experience.

He let Velvet lay her head on his chest, silently crying on his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back as she sobbed, he yearned for all of the pain to go away and everything that happened to vanish and to go back to the way it was.

But he knew he couldn’t, if there was a way he would’ve done it already, but in reality it wouldn't be possible to do at all. All he could do right now was to be there for her, wanting her to feel safe and secured.

“I love you sis.” He said, still holding her.

“Be strong for me okay? I Promise I’ll never leave you.”

“Just stay strong”

She's so adorable, I almost feel bad almost killing her 😊😊

Part 4(In progress)

#trolls 3 band together #velvet and veneer #trolls veneer #velvet angst #velvet trolls

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typingatlightspeed · 7 months ago

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TF2 Fanfic - Someone Else's Song Chapter 3 FINAL

The mercs end the evening with a nice, relaxing bonfire out back of the base, and with the words of their teammates swimming through their heads, their own feelings raging internally, and the rest of the team acting as wingmen, Engineer and Spy are left to finally confront the identity of Spy's secret admirer.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Ao3 Link!

The song Engie sings in this chapter is "Someone Else's Song" by Wilco, the basis for his song on the soundtrack, "More Gun", and the title of the fic. See what I did there? Eh? Eh? :3

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As evening fell, the team gathered outside around the makeshift firepit they had constructed out back of the base. It wasn't uncommon to spend ceasefire evenings out back, enjoying the weather as night fell over the New Mexico desert, painting the sky with fluorescent majesty as the land was cast in grey and blue. Pyro built a fire in the pit, and the team circled around it, seated on crates and camp chairs, roasting hot dogs and marshmallows and racking up an intimidating pile of empty bottles as they threw back a hefty amount of beers.

At some point, inevitably, Engineer pulled out his guitar to strum quietly, providing a relaxing soundtrack to the chatter that filled the air and rolled out across the sands.

A few songs in, Spy had fallen out of the conversation somewhere along the way. He lounged in his camp chair, smoking idly, soaking in the ambiance. Voices blurred together in a soft din, just background noise, mingling with the crackling of the fire and the clinking of beer bottles. Above it all rung the soft strings of Engineer's guitar and the warm rasp of his voice, his drawl gently tugging at his words as he sang. He wasn't trying to perform over anyone, merely providing a bit of background. He stopped every so often to add to the conversation, able to seamlessly listen and follow along while words tumbled past his lips and his fingers worked near-tirelessly.

Having a mechanical hand likely helped that, but he worked the frets with his living hand, where a normal man would have most of his attention.

Not Engineer.

Spy couldn't help the soft smile that found its way to his lips, couldn't help the sparkle in his eye as he watched Engineer at play, still affording his attention in multiple directions at once effortlessly and with such charm, cracking jokes and relishing the laughter that answered him. He wasn't sure when, exactly, he'd truly started noticing Engineer as a man more than a coworker, but now, he wasn't sure how there could have been a time when he hadn't. Surely, it boggled him that only a week ago the realization had coalesced, and now, fully aware of it, he couldn't un-see how handsome he was, with his strong jaw, broad shoulders, thick body, and rugged features. He couldn't un-hear how warm and comforting his voice was, with its soft rasp and wheezy laugh, and the way his accent only added to the effect. He couldn't un-feel the way the way his mood immediately perked up when he walked into a room, the way he enjoyed chatting with him, the way his heart would race when he was close by.

Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Spy wondered if perhaps he should have been the one writing clandestine love letters. It was no small irony that he had found himself with a crush of his own, much as he was loath to admit such immature behaviour.

But the heart is earnest, sometimes infuriatingly so. Oh, love.

And now he was left to decide how to say it. In spite of his better judgement, Demoman and Soldier had made a salient point earlier. He'd been turning it over in his mind in the hours since, distracted over dinner as he'd picked over something Pyro had dubbed, 'Chicken A La King'. Which king, however, he was unsure.

Just tell him. It seemed so simple in concept, but in execution? What would that look like? Simply blurting it out seemed so childish, and very much not his style. And no matter how forthright Engineer himself was, Spy couldn't imagine he would take such a brazen approach well. He was a man who kept his heart firmly in his chest, far from his sleeve. It was probably a massive undertaking to pen that letter, if he were indeed the author.

Spy was reasonably sure it was him.

But what if it wasn't?

No, no, Spy couldn't afford to keep looping the track on that train of thought. It was immaterial who wrote the damned note. What mattered was what Spy wanted. And what Spy wanted was Engineer. And he needed to tell him as such.

He chewed on his thoughts, taking small puffs from his cigarette as he pondered his approach. How to be clear and explicit about his feelings without being overbearing or pathetic? A man like Engineer deserved some extra finesse.

Spy felt naked. How dare those two buffoons make so much sense in convincing him of this course of action.

Demoman elbowed Scout and nodded his head to Spy, who gazed across the bonfire, completely oblivious to everyone else around him and the object of his affections. "Think we should give 'em some space?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"'e looks like so fuckin' lovesick," Scout snorted. "Yeah, okay. Let's peel out. I got some new Saxton Hale comics if you wanna read 'em."

"Aye, sure! That reminds me," Demoman said, standing and tossing a lazy farewell to the assembled men, "yer doin' good on yer readin'. Got through a lot o' big words in that love letter the other day."

Scout chuckled, hopping to his feet and snagging a couple of beers for the road. "Yeah, well, the chance to embarrass Spy made me work a little harder at it, ain't gonna lie."

As they headed inside, the others began to notice how quiet Spy had gotten, and started finding their own excuses.

"Doktor, you look very tired. Kidney experiment is not going well?" "I am," Medic confirmed with a yawn. "I never found time for a nap today. The experiment is going well, but it turned out to need more attention and maintenance than I'd expected in order to get the data I need. Ach, I probably need to run another dialysis."

"You would like help?" "I could use an extra pair of hands for the next part of the experiment, actually," Medic half-lied, standing with a soft grunt. "Good night, everyone!"

"Night, Doc! Heavy!" Engineer called, finishing up a few chords on his song. He took a moment to take a few pulls from his beer and sighed contentedly, looking up to the night sky as the sun finished its trek past the horizon, countless points of light emerging from the inky blue above as it transitioned to black.

It was beautiful, the cold twinkling of the universe above and around them as they spun away in the void. Engineer loved the way staring out at it him felt. It made him feel small, but not in the way that, say, standing next to Heavy did. It made him aware of the enormity of everything else, of how infinite and vast reality was, and how their big beautiful planet was just the barest speck within it all, himself an infinitesimally smaller speck in comparison.

Within all of that awe, somehow it made all of his problems seem a lot less pressing, a lot less all-consuming. And yet, in the microcosm that was his own mind inside his own body, his longing and self-doubt seemed no less immense and insurmountable. No amount of perspective on the cosmic scale could keep him from stealing glances of Spy from across the fire and feeling his heart skip as he caught sight of that soft, contented smile of his as he watched him play.

Spy always had that look on his face when he played. Engineer had always assumed the man simply appreciated the music to take off the hard edges of everyone hootin' and hollerin' and jockin' at each other as they got deep enough into their beers to start making a racket. But now?

Guys who like guys dig smart, artsy guys, right?

How dare Scout of all people make a decent point. Hell of a thing, that.

Engineer finished his beer an cracked a fresh one with the gunslinger, taking a swig before setting it down on the dirt next to him. His hands returned to his guitar, and he set back to noodling out a tune, the business of his fingers a soothing set of familiar motions.

Pyro elbowed Soldier. "We should head in too," he murmured, leaning in close.

"Why?"

"Because it's getting late, and we have an early morning tomorrow," Pyro attempted, dearly hoping Soldier would catch a hint for once.

"I have an early morning every morning."

Pyro sighed. "If you come in now I'll get up for PT with you tomorrow."

"Really?!" Soldier's face lit up. Nobody ever wanted to be up pre-dawn for calisthenics and physical training with him!

With a shudder, Pyro reminded himself silently that he was doing this for his best friend, and that son of a bitch had better appreciate this. "...sure."

"Deal!" Soldier shot to his feet. "I am going to bed! Good night, Engineer! Good night, Sniper! Good night, Spy! Come on, Pyro! You'd better get to sleep now if you want to be up bright and early, you lazy maggot!"

Dragging himself to his feet, Pyro clapped Engineer on the shoulder wordlessly and followed as Soldier trotted back into the base, his gait far less energetic and more like a man being walked to the firing squad. "More like dark and early," he mumbled, "you get up at five A.M."

Engineer watched them go, and casting his gaze around the fire pit, he tried not to scowl at what was clearly happening. Pyro, you shit. At least you didn't start it. He began strumming out a few notes of a new song.

"Yeh, think I'll turn in," Sniper announced, gathering up a couple of armfuls of empty bottles. "Night Truckie, Spy."

"Night, Stretch," Engineer replied, his voice nearly drowned out as Sniper dropped the bottles into the large barrel they'd purposed as a trash can by the edge of the porch.

Spy said nothing, flicking his cigarette butt into the fire, having already figured out what was happening as Demoman and Scout had headed in. Rueful as he was, it was no matter. Not when the fire was warm and Engineer was beginning a new song. One he was the sole audience for.

Engineer watched the fire as he strummed out the chords of his song, his voice just loud enough to hear over its crackle.

"I can't tell you anything you don't already know. I keep on trying, I should just let it go. I keep on singing, your eyes they just roll. It sounds like someone else's song from a long time ago."

He looked to Spy, unable to meet his eye, even shrouded in dark lenses as his own might be. He afforded him a small smile all the same.

Spy rose from his seat and circled the fire pit, half illuminated in brilliant, flickering yellows, half shrouded in shadow and the barest silver of moonlight. Engineer watched, and enjoyed the dichotomy. It suited him. When he reached the crate beside Engineer's chair, he stopped, and took a seat. He withdrew his cigarette case and lighter and lit a new cigarette, taking a long drag as Engineer continued his song.

"You already know the story; the chords are just the same. You already know I love you, and I sound like what's-his-name."

What's his name? N.G.?

"But you can't stop me; I want you to know. I know it sounds like someone else's song from a long time ago."

Spy watched the fire as Engineer strummed out the ending of the song. When his hands finally went still, and there was only the crackling of the logs and the soft sussurus of the desert wind rolling across the sands to fill the silence, he finally looked to him, the dancing firelight shining in his eyes. "A beautiful performance," he said, "and a lovely song. You must have truly loved her."

Engineer shook his head, unable to meet Spy's gaze. "Weren't no her ," he admitted. "Thank you, all the same."

"Did you write it?"

Looking down, Engineer nodded, "Yeah. Just...somethin' I had knockin' around the ol' noggin for a week or so. It's short."

"But sweet," Spy rejoined warmly. "I didn't know you wrote your music."

"Sometimes. Sometimes a fella needs that layer o' separation to express himself, I suppose."

"Layer of separation?"

"Always been clearer in text, or in song, than in conversatin'. 'Least, always felt that way to me."

"And yet you expressed that so eloquently."

"Ain't never said I ain't got a big vocabulary," Engineer chuckled, taking a sip of his beer.

Spy chuckled. Engineer had gotten dangerously close to actually expressing himself earnestly there for a moment. All the same, he understood what the man meant. It wasn't like he didn't have a terminal tendency to cloak any and all earnestness in at least three layers of irony and two of subterfuge.

And yet.

"It is something I've always...admired about you, though. Your creativity. You're an artist."

"Me?" Engineer hoped the shadows of the night helped disguise the pinkness of his cheeks. "Shoot, naw."

"Is it so unreasonable? You design and build things from nothing with your bare hands, then turn around to pen and play music with those same clever fingers."

"...thank you," Engineer murmured, a soft tremor in his voice. "Just a little surprised to hear, is all."

"I can be nice when I want to be, you know," Spy teased, trying to dismiss a bit of tension.

"I know," Engineer said with mirth, words beginning to tumble out of his mouth, "the others might not always notice it, but I do. The way you defuse fights by turnin' everyone on you. Or when you tried to give the fellas their last wishes, when that whole teleportin' bread thing happened. How you helped Scout durin' that, try to teach 'im how handle a woman like a grown-ass man. When you helped that little boy when y'all killed Australian Santa Claus."

"You make me sound like a soft touch," Spy said with feigned indignance.

"You care a lot more than you let on. You handle it your own way; you don't mother hen everyone, but you do care." Engineer smiled, and taking a deep breath, rejoined, "That's something I appreciate about you."

Spy vacillated between flattery and anguished vulnerability at being so seen. Flicking his finished cigarette into the fire, he lit another and paused, then held his case in Engineer's direction. "Can I offer you a cigarette?"

"You sure? Ain't those expensive, imported ones?"

"Why would that preclude me from sharing with a friend?"

Engineer smiled. "First I've heard that you consider me a friend."

"I didn't realize I needed to give formal notice," Spy chuckled.

"Sure." Engineer took the offered cigarette and held it between his lips, then extended a hand for the lighter. His eyes shot open wide as Spy instead leaned over and lit the cigarette for him, his gloved hands so close to his face he could smell the leather. Their eyes met, and Spy lifted a demure eyebrow, lingering for a moment to allow the gesture all the intimacy he could, before returning to his seat and snapping the lighter closed.

They smoked in silence and watched the fire begin to die down.

Engineer lifted his goggles to his forehead and scrubbed at an eye as he took a heavy drag.

Now or never, Conagher.

"You ever figure out who wrote that letter?"

Spy couldn't help a smile ghosting across his lips. Here it was. He shrugged one shoulder, trying to feign dispassion as his heart raced. "Does it really matter?"

"What's that mean?"

"Assuming I did discover the author, does that guarantee I feel the same?"

Engineer winced in spite of himself, feeling like he'd been kicked. That had been the question making him sick to his stomach all week waiting for an answer to, and to hear Spy state it so plainly made him nervous, unbearably so.

"After all, the author is one of seven men," Spy said, parroting Demoman's infuriatingly good argument. Damn that drunk and his extremely good advice. Spy owed the son of a bitch a bottle of top-shelf whiskey.

...middle shelf.

"What are the odds that one in seven is the same one in seven I find myself attracted to?"

Wait.

"That mean you're sweet on someone on the team?" Engineer ventured.

Spy smirked, turning his gaze back to Engineer coyly and nodding. "Don't even raise the bet before calling, eh? At the risk of showing my hand: I am. And what if the author isn't him? Regardless of proceedings, his heart will be broken, so why should I force him to endure the mortifying ordeal of being known by telling him that I know that he loves me, and that another has already caught my eye?" Spy took a long drag then shook his head, rolling his hand in the air dismissively. "No. No, I no longer care to discover who wrote the letter."

"...and what about the fella you're into?"

That coy look returned, flirty almost. "What about him?" Another single-shoulder shrug. "What if he isn't interested? That exposes him to the same ordeal I've faced, though with admittedly less paperwork."

Engineer turned to look Spy in the eye, the fire reflecting in that deep brown made his eyes look nearly black in the dancing shadows. "So you're just going to let it go? Say nothing? Because you're afraid o' gettin' hurt?" He expected better of the man. "What if he is interested? Ain't it worth the risk?"

Spy took another long drag and nodded, his silent question answered loud and clear. He admitted, he took the scenic route getting there, but Engineer was a man who deserved the extra finesse. "Ain't it?"

Well shit. Trying to get the man to lay his cards on the table had made him go all in, hadn't it?  Clever fucker. Engineer was too impressed to be annoyed, really. He shook his head and took a drag, letting the pause stretch for a while, chewing on his words. "How long'd you know?"

"Truthfully?" Spy shot an eyebrow up coquettishly. "Not until now. Not for certain. But I'd hoped."

"Hoped?"

Spy let out a long sigh. "The letter made me evaluate my own feelings, inbetween fevered bouts of cryptography. And I realized: no matter who the author may be, only one possibility actually interested me. More than interested. Appealed. Compelled. Thrilled. And that is you, mon ami."

A goofy smile forced its way across Engineer's face. "You're serious."

"I find you fascinating in a way I can't shake," Spy admitted, echoing Engineer's words in his letter. "I'm fixated on you." He flicked his cigarette into the fire and stood, brushing himself off. "You're all I can think of when my mind turns to idle thoughts, and those thoughts are a mixture of adoration and lust." He carefully lifted the guitar from Engineer's hands, the other man letting it go willingly, gazing up at Spy with eyes full of curiousity.

Spy let out a soft huff of a laugh and set the guitar gently upon the crate upon which he'd been sitting. He turned back to Engineer. "You've driven me to distraction and the kind of madness only alleviated by some sort of action."

With little further ado, Spy leaned into Engineer's space, his gloved hand coming to rest on his cheek, leather brushing against stubble. He leaned in, and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to Engineer's lips. He could feel the man freeze up in surprise for a moment, though how he could be shocked after such obvious preamble, Spy couldn't imagine. Disbelief, perhaps?

Either way, when Spy pulled away, a soft smile playing at his lips, he could see clearly just how red Engineer's face was. It was frankly adorable, and it made him want to kiss him all the more.

"Spy..."

"Mon petit ours," Spy hummed.

"You're serious."

With a roll of his eyes, Spy straightened back up. "Labourer, if you doubt my intentions so much, I can just leave and we can never speak of this again." It was a threat, tinged with annoyance rather than regret. "Or is it so difficult to believe you are wanted as much as you want?"

"No, I just—" Engineer took a breath. Spy was right. They were pretty well past the point where self-doubt made any sense. He shook his head and let himself breathe. He also made a mental note to thank Pyro later. "Aw hell, c'mere, Slim." Taking Spy's hand, he tugged him down, gathering the narrow man into his lap with barely an effort, much to Spy's surprise and unvoiced delight.

It was his turn to turn bright red, now.

"You wanna give it a shot?"

"So long as you don't make me do any more codebreaking and handwriting analysis? Absolutely." With a laugh, they kissed again, properly, wrapping arms around one another with giddy delight. When their lips parted, they rested their foreheads together, gazing into one another's eyes with the blur of being too-close to focus, their noses bumping gently.

Suddenly, Spy's eyes snapped open wide and he reeled back, nearly falling out of Engineer's lap. "Wait. N.G.? Engie?! ENGIE?! Merde! How—non I take I back, you are the worst and I am going to go crawl into a ditch and die."

Engineer whooped a laugh, pulling Spy back against him to pepper him with kisses, forcing snickers from his embarrassed lover until he relented and met his lips again with his own.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 fanfic #TF2 Napoleon Complex #TF2 Engineer #TF2 Spy #TF2 Scout #TF2 Soldier #TF2 Pyro #TF2 Demoman #TF2 Heavy #TF2 Medic #TF2 Sniper

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giggly-squiggily · 2 years ago

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Good Morning, Aki! (Chainsaw Man)

Heyo! This took considerably longer then planned, but here we are! :D I love Chainsaw Man so much, and these three have my entire heart and soul! Based off of this doodle I made- here is some Lee!Aki for y’all today! :3

CW: swearing

Cloud 9 (Taglist)

@backy-san

Aki was in hell.

Really- he had devils and everything.

He was never one to fight Miss Makima’s orders, even if he questioned her decisions regarding her “new pups”. She saw potential, and she had an incredible mind to think beyond anything Aki could decipher. So far, none of her choices have led them to poor results.

This might be the first.

“Ah! Pohohohower get ohohohohohoff mehehehehehehe!”

The sound of a crash followed by muffled screaming set the tone for the day as Aki laid in bed, longing for the once peaceful quiet of his apartment. By his feet, Meowy purred against him- how the cat ended up in his room Aki had no idea. “At least you have the sense to stay quiet.” He mumbled before getting up, readying himself for the damage.

“Take this, foolish human! And this! And this!” Power was laughing like a witch, sitting on a flailing Denji as she ruthlessly dug her fingers into his ribs, making him squeal with laughter. “This is what happens when you dare challenge the great Power, fool!”

“I dihiihihidn’t chahahahallenge shihihihihit! You freheahhahahahaking lihihihiihiiiar!” The chainsaw man argued through his giggles, arms pressed tightly against his sides as his feet kicked helplessly behind him. When he saw Aki’s sweatpants form, he reached out helplessly. “Hahahahhaayaahahha-san hehehehhelp meheheheheheheh!”

“Ha! Beg all you want, mortal- no one’s gonna help you now!” Power pressed harder into his sides, making him scream.

“Would you two please be quiet? The sun’s not up yet and you’re already making too much noise!” Aki had good intentions of talking to them reasonably, but he was tired and they were loud, so his voice came out more an angry shout then a collected request.

This made Power and Denji pause, staring at him with intrigued eyes. Plan succeeded?

“Oo, someone’s grumpy!” Denji laughed, easily slipping past Power’s hold, sending her tumbling on her back. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound so mad!”

“Pfft! That was nothing compared to how mad he got when we pranked him the other day.” Power added, standing beside the devil as she grinned up at Aki. “He was so mad that day his tree hair fell out!”

“You mean ponytail?” Denji asked, turning to her.

“I know what I said, mortal! Hair tree!” She declared again.

“It’s called a ponytail.”

“That’s not what you told me!”

“What? You’re the one calling it a Hair Tree!”

“See! You said it again!”

“Liar!”

Aki felt his shoulders slump as he watched the pair fight again, any attention he gained gone like sand through his fingers. Giving up, he turned to the kitchen for coffee, desperate for something to help him put up with their shenanigans.

“Hold up- where ya going?” Denji blocked his path then, leaning into the island counter with a cheeky grin. “You didn’t even say good morning to us!”

“Yeah! Where’s our good morning kiss!” Power was on his other side, effectively boxing him in.

“What are you even getting at? Ew- get away!” He pushed Denji away by his face when he leaned in, making kissy noises and puffing his lips out like a fish. “I just want coffee- not your gross morning breath!”

“Gross? I brushed my teeth!” Denji laughed, smiling wide to show him his pearly whites.

“Me too, me too!” Power smiled just as brightly. “I even used that spicy blue drink in there! Mortals have weird taste.”

“You drank it? Power that’s not-” Aki pinched the bridge of his nose. She was a fiend- she’d probably be fine. “Can you two- I just want some coffee. Let me be.” He tried to move past them only to be blocked again. “I swear-”

“Do it! Swear!” Denji grinned, reaching out and poking Aki’s side. “I don’t think I’ve heard you do so yet!”

“Yeah yeah, say fuck!” Power laughed, poking his other side gleefully. “Say it! Say it!”

Aki grunted, trying not to squirm as the two relentlessly poked his sides. He wouldn’t give in- not this early in the morning. “Stop it. I’m serious-” A huff of air covered his almost laugh, and he pressed his lips firmly together.

“I thought you were Aki.” Power questioned, adding more fingers.

“Haya-san? You’re ticklish?” Denji sounded gleefully surprised.

Oh dear.

“Get off! Both of you!” Aki turned to run, hoping his way back would be clear if he moved fast enough. For a split second, it did- but then Power grabbed him around the waist and Denji caught the back of his t-shirt, trapping him once more. This time Power wasted no time clawing at his sides, her fingers scratching against the thin fabric as she searched for tickle spots. Aki flexed, hoping that tightening his muscles would push away the growing tickly feeling.

No dice. He was properly screwed.

“Come on! Laugh mortal! Don’t tell me you’re immune to my powers!” Power clicked her tongue gleefully as she felt him shake beneath her hands. “Perhaps you’re too scared of my ticky abilities to laugh!”

“Tickle, Power. It’s called tickle.” Denji snorted before kicking a leg under Aki’s- bringing him to his knees. “But he is being rather resistant! Come on, let’s give him some motivation to give in!”

“Get away you two- '' Aki was shoved flat on his face by the fiend, Power’s hands relocating to his side as she carried on her tickling. Denji plopped down on his other side, fingers worming their way to his ribs. “Stop ihihit!”

“He laughed! That was a laugh!” Denji cheered, motivated.

“Not so tough now, are ya?” Power cackled, increasing the speed of her fingers. “Ticky ticky ticky ticky, hair tree!”

Aki tried- he really did. Lips pressed firmly shut, he tried to bury his face in his arms while his leg kicked up; figuring he could land a hit on one of them. This only led to Power grabbing said leg and squeezing his calf- a tickle spot he didn’t even know he had.

And Denji- oh that freaking DENJI! He could feel that shark tooth grin on him while the rookie found an awful spot by his hip, his free hand reaching out and pinning his wrist so he couldn’t swat him away. “Come on Aki! You know you wanna laugh.”

“Yohooohohohu suhuhuhuhuhuhuck!” The dam broke- soon Aki was laughing helplessly beneath the two devils, squirming this way and that as they dug their claws into all the sensitive spots along his torso and legs. “Gehehehehhet oohohohohoohohohoff!”

“Aha! There it is! Wow, Haya-san, your laugh is great!” Denji snickered, honing in towards the center of his ribs.

“He sounds silly! Laugh more for me, Mortal!” Power cackled in delight, grabbing his ankle before drilling into his socked soles. “Don’t hold back!”

“Gheheheheheht ohohohohohohff mehehehehhee! Yoohohohohohohou shihihihihiihhits!!” AKi howled in mirth, only making them laugh more.

“He did it! He said a bad word!” Denji giggled like a child, Power nodding in agreement.

“He said shit! Shit!” She cried in glee. “Let’s make him say it again!”

“Nohohoohoohoho gehehehhehet awhahahahhahhawy from mehehehehehehe!” Aki’s cackles for mercy were lost in their game, leaving him defenseless.

~~~

“Hm? Aki, are you there? Aki?” The sound of Makima’s voice was muffled through the phone receiver. Aki closed his eyes, skin still tingling from the devil’s impromptu devil attack. “I’m here. Good morning, Miss. Makima.”

“My, it sounds like you're out of breath. Were you attacked?” She sounded amused, as if she knew what his roommates did to him. He wouldn’t be surprised if she did.

“Yes, by two out of control devils.” Aki cut his eyes towards the pair sitting by, stuffing their faces with jam bread and fighting over the eggs. “They woke up and chose violence today.”

“Oh my, sounds like you had your hands full.” She was definitely laughing, he could hear it in her voice. Even if it was at his expense, the sound eased his shoulders.

“Yes, but…I guess I don’t really mind it.” He confessed, turning his back to the pair as he lowered his voice. “They’re loud, annoying, obnoxious, and terrible roommates. But…I think I’ve grown used to them. It’s…nice.”

“Hmm.” Makima hummed, the sound satisfied. “I had a feeling you’d grow attached.”

“Don’t get me wrong- if they pull anything funny, I’m killing them on the spot.” He hurried to reassure her. “I’m not that attached. But…for the time being…”

“I understand. Well, hang in there, Aki. I’m more than confident you are the best person we have for the job. Come by this afternoon for you and your team’s next assignment.” She clicked off, leaving him slightly flushed and with a racing heart.

“Understood…” He put down the phone, turning to find-

“You like us around?” Denji was inches from his face, jam across his mouth and grinning like a fool.

“I knew it! The mortal is soft for us!” Power was also close by- crumbs decorating her own face and shirt.

Aki bit down a sigh. This was his life for now on.

He was in hell. But maybe he could make it work.

Thanks for reading!

#csm #aki hayakawa #denji #power #tickle #tickle fic #fluff #chaos #tw: swearing #these three deserve the world #light mention of Makima

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511digital · 1 month ago

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Avoiding Facebook Ad Fatigue: Keep Your Campaigns Fresh and Effective.

1. Introduction

Ever feel like you're stuck in a Facebook ad rut? You're not alone. Ad fatigue is the silent killer of many marketing campaigns, sneaking up when you least expect it. But don't worry – we've got your back! In this article, we'll dive into some tried-and-true strategies to keep your Facebook ads as fresh as your morning coffee. Trust us, your audience (and your ROI) will thank you.

2. Understanding Ad Fatigue

First things first – what exactly is ad fatigue? Simply put, it's when your audience sees your ads so often that they start tuning them out. It's like that catchy song you loved... until you heard it for the 100th time. Ad fatigue can significantly impact your campaign's performance, turning once-effective ads into invisible noise.

3. Signs of Ad Fatigue

How do you know if your ads are suffering from fatigue? Look out for these telltale signs:

Declining click-through rates

Increasing frequency (how often each user sees your ad)

Skyrocketing costs per click

Sound familiar? Don't panic. We've all been there, and there's a way out.

4. 5 Strategies to Keep Your Ads Fresh

4.1 Rotate Your Creative

Remember the old saying, "variety is the spice of life"? It applies to your ads too. Switch up your images, videos, and copy regularly. You wouldn't wear the same outfit every day, so why show the same ad?

4.2 Segment Your Audience

One size doesn't fit all in clothing, and it certainly doesn't in marketing. Break your audience into smaller segments and tailor your message. It's like having a different conversation with each of your friends – personal and relevant.

4.3 Test, Test, Test

A/B testing isn't just a buzzword – it's your secret weapon. Try different headlines, images, or call-to-actions. You might be surprised at what resonates with your audience. It's like being a chef and perfecting your recipe – a pinch of this, a dash of that.

4.4 Refresh Your Landing Pages

Your ad is just the first date. Make sure your landing page is ready for a long-term relationship. Keep it aligned with your ad and just as fresh.

4.5 Use Facebook's Built-in Tools

Facebook offers features like Dynamic Creative and Automated Rules. Use them! They're like having a personal assistant for your ads – always on the job, always optimizing.

5. Conclusion

Keeping your Facebook ads fresh isn't rocket science, but it does take effort. Think of it as tending a garden – regular care yields the best results. Remember, the goal isn't just to avoid fatigue – it's to keep your audience engaged and excited about your brand. With these strategies in your toolkit, you're well on your way to creating campaigns that stay fresh and effective.

6. FAQ

Q: How often should I rotate my ad creative?

A: It depends on your audience and campaign, but generally, try to refresh your creative every 2-4 weeks.

Q: Can ad fatigue happen even if my ads are performing well?

A: Yes, even successful ads can suffer from fatigue over time. Always monitor your metrics.

Q: How does audience segmentation help with ad fatigue?

A: It allows you to show more relevant ads to each group, reducing the chances of fatigue.

Q: Are there any tools to help predict ad fatigue?

A: Facebook's Relevance Score can be a good indicator. A declining score might suggest the onset of ad fatigue.

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abigailshorel6 · 1 year ago

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Experiment 3: Sound, Illustration, Animation

One of the first associations I made when getting my words 'earwig' and 'unlawful' was an earwig getting killed/squashed. My initial idea was to create an animation where someone steps on an earwig and then you see the blood coming out around it. I wanted to make a stop motion style animation as it is more fun/playful.

To start this experiment I wanted to try making some splats with watercolour. I wanted to try physically make this with watercolour as I can create more interesting shapes. I had a look back at the prompts we were given and one of them was noise, to fit with the idea of a bug being squashed I thought the word/noise splat fit well. I thought this word would fit the playful nature of my design. In my work I had never really used audio before in the work so I wasn't really sure how to start with it so I decided to take the prompt in a more visual sense. I wanted to use onomatopoeia and visualise splat with the bug being squashed. Therefore, when creating my splats with watercolour I wrote out some type with the paint which allowed me to create some interesting and fluid letterforms.

Once I had scanned in the watercolour I wasn't too happy with the colours etc so I brought the scan into photoshop to try and edit the colours etc.

I first tried editing the colours however I wasn't able to achieve the intensity of colour I wanted with adjustments. I next tried adding filters, I ended up using 'torn edges', this made the splat a shape which I could recolour much easier. I used this effect both on the splat and type. I then did a quick illustration of an earwig which I layed ontop of the splat. I ended up hating this design, the red coloured splat and type just looked too stark and blocky. I also hated how the earwig illustration contrasted against the splat as they were such different styles. However, I really like the composition of the design so I decided to carry on developing this in a different style.

I ended up putting my previous idea into procreate and tracing all the outlines. I love how this version turned out, it gave the design a much more playful illustrative look which fits my personal style. Having all the elements in the same line art style makes them all fit together much better, and embraces the playful style of the design and the word splat. Once I had created the one illustration I decided I wanted to animate it to bring the design to life. I created 5 images in each one the splat became bigger which brought the design to life.

#will it blend #specialist practice

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morvantmortuary · 1 year ago

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I've had this sitting in my drafts this entire time and like a fool I forgot to respond to it but I AM PICKING HIM UP AND TWIRLING HIM AROUND IN CIRCLES LIKE A DOLL I LOVE HIM SO MUCH LINDS OMG 🖤🖤🖤

He's fantastic! Stupendous!! What an unexpected delight of a visitor omg <3

ofc the Morvants are all furious with one another the next morning -- they are not supposed to get away, they all know what happens if someone gets away -- and once Maxi's got daily business in the mortuary settled enough to close up for a "long lunch," the front door flies open, with the three of them still mid-hissed argument. Maxi's hastily loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves in the middle of a whispered tirade as Hex is hopping on one foot trying to get his other sneaker on, grumbling at the siblings in Spanish, while Rora's spitting epithets at them both, stuffing a liston knife hurriedly into the canvas bag she uses for specimen collecting--

only for Maxi to grab both of his relatives by the backs of their shirts and pull them backwards to prevent them stepping on the oddly placed grocery store cookies.

When Hex and Rora whirl on him, both already on an incredibly short fuse and looking for a reason to lash out, he simply nods at the box. When they turn to look as well, the three of them fall quiet for the first time in many long hours.

Rora, impatient, snaps it up and tosses it to Hex (who quickly catches it, never one to let a good snack go to waste) as she opens the odd card. The boys crane to look over each of her shoulders as she reads it silently, Hex already munching a cookie as quietly as possible.

They look between each other, and the only noise to be heard is the birds singing in the front yard and the distant rusty wind chimes on the back porch.

As quickly as they'd come out, the three of them turn one by one to head back inside.

("You didn't wanna wait until we knew those were safe?" Maxi sighs as he closes the front door, glancing at Hex already picking up his second cookie.

Hex shrugs. "They still had the sticker on 'em."

"That doesn't mean..." Maxi trails off as Hex devours the second one in two bites, giving his cousin a withering look.

When Hex holds the box out to him, though, Maxi takes one himself, chewing thoughtfully as he ponders what to do next.

Rora devours three in the middle of the night when no one's around but Magnolia, who stares silently at her the entire time with an eyeless look that still manages to give off "begging cat".)

When the mortuary's called to collect a routine pick-up from the hospital morgue, Maxi shows up as usual. While he deals with the attendant and initialing all the paperwork, Hector sneaks around to the front door with a small bouquet of Rora's best white roses tied in a black ribbon. After a smile and some casual chatting with the older woman working the information desk, he leaves the bouquet at the ER, with a "Deepest Sympathies" card on thick white paper tucked into the stems.

Inside, in Maxi's careful handwriting, is a cheerfully cordial message about how they would love to make it up to their mysterious benefactor, and that they would happily host their new friend for a meal and a chat whenever Day's schedule allowed.

He wouldn't need to sign it (though Rora would take the time to leave a lipstick print, for added effect). He figures Day knows where to look.

(And they already had an idea who they were looking for, thanks to a little digging through the hospital's data on Hector's part.)

thanks for thinking of us, and letting your boy out to play! sorry it took me so long to get back to you, please know this was genuinely a delight to find!! :3

Happy STS! If you had to throw one of your characters into another world, which one would you choose? Would they thrive or hate it?

Thank you @toribookworm22 for the ask. (I hope you don't mind that I copy-pasted, so that I could answer this on my writing Tumblr vs. my personal.)

TW: allusions to murder, emergecy room scenario, mentions of police, blood, rabies, heart faliure, delirium/hallucinations, ghosts, demons, and burns scars/scars in general.

I really had to think about this one. There are so many OCxworld combinations that could be really fun and silly and/or really tragic. (Some of the others I've considered are Eliott in Steven Universe and Acon in The Last of Us.) If I had to throw one of my OCs into another world, I would throw Dr. Dante "Day" Huerta from Goddess Dead into the @morvantmortuary universe.

Why? Because I'm a huge fan, and how fucking funny would it be to have a shy werewolf with a savoir complex working as a doctor in Greymoon, Louisiana's local ER?

Like, just, hear me out, okay? Someone fucks up (we're not naming names), and a mortuary victim gets away. He stumbles, bloodied and broken into the ER. He's ranting and raving about monsters in the woods. Ghosts in the cemetery. Demons. Undertakers, etc. The nurses write him off as having a bad trip or a severe mental-break, but the cops are called just to be safe.

Of course, the new, emergency doctor—Dr. Huerta—sees the truth and the danger behind the patient's frenzied tale.

(I don't have a faceclaim for Day, so imagine a chicano man with long, dried-seaweed-brown hair with streaks of silver, thin lips, and 3 long, raking scars across the right side of his face. When he smiles, only the left corner lilts up.)

There are others here in Greymoon, he realizes. People like him, who have been touched—consumed by the darkest parts of this world and the next. And, if they are discovered, then it's only a matter of time before Dante is discovered, or worse his partner. He promised himself he'd never do this, never hurt anyone, but he has to. He has to protect himself. He has to protect the people he loves. He has to.

A growl, deep and hungry, itches along his throat. He removes his gloves, revealing heavy burn-scars, and ties his hair back with the hair tie around his wrist. He asks the nurse to fetch some more gauze. She leaves. He locks the door, and he gets to work.

The police don't show up until the patient is already dead. He suffered anemia-related heart failure, and he was rabies-positive, so sad. Don't mind that the patient has more flesh wounds then he entered the facility with, it was a simple miscount. It's very difficult to do a complete body-scan when a patient is in the throes of late-stage rabies-induced delirium. Yes, those are claw marks; obviously, a large animal did this. Don't worry. We'll notify animal control. Nothing else to see here.

The next day, a box of the cheapest store-bought, frosted sugar cookies appears outside the mortuary's front-door with a "Get Well Soon" card which reads:

I took care of your problem. Please, be more careful next time. - Day

#dante huerta #dr. dante 'day' huerta #friends' ocs #friends' werewolves #goddess dead #nice people #linds!! 🖤💛#tagged in

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spookbusters · 2 years ago

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Spit Me Out (18+)

Summary: Edward thinks of something while in the shower with you.

// Pairing: Edward Nashton x F!Reader

// Word Count: 1.9k

// Warnings: Not beta-d! Porn w/o plot, brief showering together, handjob/thighjob, oral (m!receiving), face/throatfucking, brief mention of mirrors, f!masturbation, brief dirty talk, cumplay (spitting/eating), finger sucking, implied switch!reader+eddie.

// A/N: Yay, a longer one! Thank you everyone for so much love on my first Eddie fic!! I’m super excited to be adding a few other Paul Dano characters to my writing list!! <3

// As per the warnings, note that this work is intended for those who are of age in their respective countries! MINORS DNI!!!

_____________________________<3______________________________

He didn't mean to think of it that way. Frankly, he wasn't even entirely sure where it came from. All he knew was that now he was getting lost in his thoughts of you...

"Edward, is everything ok?"

Eddie panics a bit when he realizes you had been talking to him. "Wha-, " he starts, noting the concern on your face, "I'm-... It's ok, honey. What'd you say?" "Can you pass me my body wash, please?" He nods, fishing for the bright pink bottle in the shower caddy. "Thank you."

For a moment, while you're occupied with lathering the fruity-scented wash all over your damp skin, he allows himself to revisit the mental image he had just been so enthralled by. You had been washing your hair, standing under the water to rinse out the conditioner that made your hair silken and soft- something he loves. Water had gotten in your mouth when you opened it to say something to him, and Edward had watched as you spit the water out.

Again, he had no idea where it came from, but immediately his imagination was flooded with images of you on your knees, tears running tracks down the outer edges of your eyes, as you spit his cum from your mouth. It's like a stain on his mind. No matter how hard he tries to push the thought away, unwilling to defile the gentle intimacy of being here with you, that image of you burns a hole through him and he can't stop the thought's physical effects on him.

Blood rushes to his cock, and he immediately moves to see himself out of the shower, despite your protests and the unrinsed soap bubbles sliding down his chest. "Eddie, baby, what's wrong?" You're rushing to rinse off and hop out, fishing for your towel on one of the hooks. He doesn't have enough time to both wipe off the leftover soap and get the towel around his waist, so you get an eyeful of him, long and thick and solid before he has a chance to hide.

Edward blushes, the tips of his ears turning a burning crimson, "l didn't want to bother you with... this," your heart thuds at how shy he sounds before he rushes, "l know you had a long day at work; I know you just wanted to relax tonight, I'm sorry." You smile, genuine and warm, and Eddie's knees buckle ever so slightly when he sees it. "Is this what was the matter," you coo, "Just a little embarrassed?" Your voice is gentle, teasing, and tinged with faux innocence.

It makes him throb.

"l told you, l didn't want to bother you," he replied. Watching the water droplets roll over your curves as you step towards him is hypnotic. Before he can blink, you're in front of him, wet fingertips sliding down his stomach to rest on his hips. "You could never," you assert, voice warm with growing arousal, "l love taking care of you." He hardly realizes you're backing him up until his back meets the cool wall; the shiver that courses through his body is a shockwave.

The noise Edward makes when the soft skin of your palm meets his head is delicious. Somewhere between a whine and a sigh, it makes the blood burn in your veins. "Now, sweetheart, what was it that got you so worked up, hm?" Your fingers dance along his heated skin, spreading Eddie's rapidly leaking precum and making him twitch in your hand. "Thinking about you," he replies, eyes fluttering shut at your touch, "But 's- ngh... st-stupid."

When his gaze meets yours again, your eyes are big and soft, "Why would it be stupid, Eddie?" The way your palm is now skirting against his shaft is causing his brain to lag and he's slow to respond. He's overwhelmed by you in the best way. "You spit out water," he pants softly. The two of you are so close you can feel every rise and fall of his chest, "Made me think of you spitting out my-..."

Edward doesn't get the chance to finish; you decide at that point to start stroking him in earnest. The increase in pace and pressure, the way your fist tightens around him, is incredible. "Eddie, why would you ever think that's stupid, honey," you chastise softly, "That's so hot."

He doesn't hesitate in pressing his lips against yours, breathing in the scent of your fresh body wash, and peeking his tongue out to run against the seam of your kiss. His hands, which had previously been stuck at his sides, have maneuvered their way around your body to grip at whatever flesh they could manage.

You open up for him readily, wantingly, and he all but devours you. It's your turn to whimper when he starts biting at your lips, and you feel as though the remaining water skimming your skin may boil into steam.

"Wanna feel you," is all you can manage before you're placing him, hot and slick, between your thighs. He moves before you get the chance to, rocking his hips against you, and his solid weight against your clit makes you dizzy. Your nerves feel like they're on fire, raw and sensitive from the intensity of this spur-of-the-moment tryst.

Meanwhile, Edward is having what he earnestly believes might be an out-of-body experience. For a moment, he genuinely thinks he might be watching this from the perspective of a third party before he understands he's just looking at your shared reflection in the bathroom mirror. He sees himself, teeth gritted and hair damp while he takes all that you offer. He sees you, arms around his shoulders and his hands on your waist. You’re hanging on for dear life as he takes you apart from the outside.

Your release hits you like a freight train before you even have half a moment to recognize its approach. Eddie doesn't have enough time to tell you he's close, too, and perfectly content to spill himself all over your folds before he recognizes how your muscles tremble beneath the plushness of your lower tummy.

Wet. All you can register is that what you're feeling is wet, pulsing, and debilitating, and he's fucking you through it.

When you come down from the high, your legs feel like they're made of jelly, which is convenient because you're falling to your knees posthaste to take his sensitive cock into your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, and the eroticism of that fact is in no way lost on you.

A curse is spat from Eddie's wonderfully plump lips at the feel of your tongue. It's all he can do but keep himself from downright shoving himself down your throat at the first available opportunity. But Edward intentionally stops himself, waiting to feel you relax around him to take him deeper. He was so close, so close.

From below, you're watching his every move. His eyes are screwed shut, the hands once desperate for purchase on your ass now flexing as they knot themselves in your hair. When he finally opens his eyes, the sight of you almost does him in completely. Your eyes are half glazed over, your perfect lips working to accommodate his girth. God, you're beautiful.

Still, you can see the hesitancy in his body language and decide enough's enough. Your hands start at his calves, and a shudder wracks his body as they travel, feather-light, up to his thighs. Slowly, as though you're trying not to frighten him, you press your fingers into his skin and pull him towards you.

With this unspoken permission, he's pushing his hips into your face. You watch below him with hooded eyes as he loses himself almost completely. The fingers in your hair tighten ever so slightly, guiding your head back and forth against the length of him. A groan rumbles deep in his chest as he uses your mouth. The sound sends lightning down your spine, and the need briefly sated by your prior orgasm returns threefold.

One hand remains on his thigh, content to feel the thick muscle flex with every long stroke into you, the other snakes between your legs where your slit aches for more touch. The pads of your fingers drag through your folds and you sigh, mouth full, at the contact. Edward watches with intense eyes, and you're so content in your own little world, that you barely hear him speak.

"You want another?"

He watches you nod as best you can, and he's perfectly content to continue engaging in this exercise in mutualism until you both get what you want. He shoves himself further down your throat and your head is spinning as you split your focus between breathing properly and building the searing climax you feel on the horizon.

"You look so good like this," his breathing is uneven, and your hand speeds up to try to meet up with where you know his body is at, "Look so good, getting off to taking my cock." His words are powerful, and you whimper at them. Eddie marvels over you, brows drawn together over pleasure-drunk eyes, fingers making a wet sound with every plunge into your cunt. He feels it stronger than ever, boiling inside him. So close. "Want you to cum for me, can you do that?" Your only response is a wanton moan. "Please," he chokes, "Let me see it."

And you do. Your walls flex around your fingers and the sight of you, twitching and choking, finally becomes too much for Edward to bear.

When he finally falls over the edge, it's an all-encompassing, full-body experience. It sends a shiver through his body that makes his legs tremble, and makes the sandy hair on his arms and at the base of his neck stand on end. He pulls his dick from between your lips, and you almost ogle at the sight of it still hard.

Edward falls to his knees to be closer to you, wedging himself between your body and the bathroom wall. "Spi-... spit it out," he murmurs, watching you with intense eyes, and you comply instantly.

The familiar taste of his cum is bitter, but oh-so Eddie on your tongue. Your lips purse a bit as you spit. It's a little sloppy, but that's on purpose; you're making a show of it for his benefit. The pale fluid shines on your lips like a gloss, dripping and dribbling from your mouth to your chin to drip on the tops of your breasts.

You're a work of art to him: tear tracks stain your cheeks with the memory of his head hitting the back of your throat, your hair is tangled from his frantic fingers, and his cum paints the lower half of your face.

It's everything he's ever imagined it to be and so much more.

"Edward," you call, and it makes him realize he was staring at you in stupefied silence. A wicked grin spreads on your features. "We made a mess of me, baby," you purr, and Edward's eyes widen as he starts to look anywhere but at you, taking on a sudden shyness about what's transpired. "I'm sorry, honey," he says, voice soft.

You extend a hand to gingerly grab his wrist, guiding his fingers first to wipe his release from your chin and then shove those same fingers into your mouth. His jaw drops, and you can see his length twitch in your peripheral vision. When you've sucked his fingers to your satisfaction, you release his wrist so they can fall from between your lips.

"That's alright, sweetheart," you soothe, voice gentle. He knows that tone always means a mouthwatering danger is lurking beneath your surface.

"You can help me clean up."

#edward nashton smut #edward nashton x reader #Edward Nashton x you #the riddler smut #the riddler x reader #the riddler x you #paul dano x reader #dano!riddler x you #dano!riddler smut #dano!riddler x reader #riddler smut #riddler x reader #riddler x y/n #riddler x you

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