#since I'm gonna be gone like....... all night
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quantum1mmortality · 1 day ago
Note
The crew & using toys on their S/O in bed please with a cherry on top??
First time writing the whole crew kinda nervous 🤭🤭 I'm not writing Swansea tho I will NOT be writing nsfw of a married man
Tw/cw; Afab!reader, winners love winning in Anyas hcs (use of the term pillow princess), jorkinit jumpscare
Not proofread
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Curly
I'm actually not sure if he'd be into toys
I've literally only written for Curly so I'd say I'm a Curly expert, and I just don't think he'd be into toys
He'd use a vibrator on you every now and then, but he'd just use it to tease you and make you beg for him.
He'd probably use cock rings. I am a firm believer Curly would use cock rings. Not all the time, but if he's had a really stressful day at work, he's wanting an extra hard hitting orgasm.
Omg not a toy but APHRODISIACS!!! This man would go crazy for some aphrodisiacs, whether he's taking it or you are.
Now I wanna write a wedding night one shot with Curly and aphrodisiacs thanks a lot anon 😔😔😔 I've got enough shit to write already
Anya
I don't care what any of you say this woman is a pillow princess
YOU'D be using toys on HER
She'd also be a cryer but that's not the point
She'd have a drawer dedicated to sex toys. She's trying to get into med school, she's CONSTANTLY stressed, how else is she supposed to release some of that stress? Don't judge her.
She wouldn't be into straps or dildos, she'd be into shit that vibrates. Vibrators obviously, rose toys, anything that stimulates the clit honestly
I lied she is into dildos this woman is a sucker for a RABBIT!!! Like I said, if it vibrates, she wants it.
Her favorite combo is the rose toy/vibrator + pussy licking. She cums so fast, then gets embarrassed, then begs for more. Praise her a bunch and she'll be able to go a few more rounds
BONUS CONTENT!!; she has a Christina and Princess Albertina, no further comments
Daisuke
Oh yeah, he's using toys.
He has a tongue piercing and sometimes he'll swap it out for a bar that vibrates but y'all aren't ready for that convo
He's gonna use the basic toys, nothing we haven't gone over yet. Vibrators, rose toys, cock rings, ect. He's just trying to figure out what he likes for right now, and he likes all of them
In missionary, he'd hold either a vibrator or rose up to your clit while he fucks you. Kind of uncomfortable as a position, but if it gets you off, it's worth it to him.
Not sure if this is considered a toy but he'd be interested in sounding. He's definitely had you try it on him once or twice, and he never lasts for more than a minute 😭 poor boy
He's just trying new things out. He's new to having a committed relationship, so anything you'd be into, he'd be willing to try. He'd let you peg him if you wanted, but don't ask me to write that.
My pegging days are over
Jonathan
The kinkiest cunt that ever cursed this god forsaken ship
Toys are a must have for him. On you, not him. He only likes using them on you, because it gives him a sense of power over you.
He'd be one of those assholes that would put a bluetooth vibrator in your panties and wait till you're in public to turn it on the highest setting. Like an asshole
Jizzdaddy would have a lot of toys. He'd have one of those robotic dildo setups that like.. idk does the thrusting how the fuck do I explain this????
You guys get what I mean if you've ever been on a porn site you've seen one
Anyway, he'd have one of those setups and watch it fuck you. Ass up, head down, grasping at whatever you could since HIS sadistic ass turned it up to the highest speed.
Eventually hed get pissed off and fuck you himself, claiming that you love the toy more than you love him 😔 the allegations are true but he doesn't have to know that
He'd also use plugs on you. In public, too. He doesn't care. If you humiliate yourself, that's your fault, not his.
vibrators are used during sex, nothing new. But it's the same situation as before. Claiming you love the toy more than him, so he stops using it.
Sometimes he'll just give in though and decide he doesn't care, and wants to tease you more than anything. Highest speed it can go, or the slowest. No in-between. He'll have you begging one way or another.
Chat I hate writing rough characters someone request ooc soft Joshua hcs so I can write him like I do Curly 🙏🙏🙏
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A/N; Anya makes me wanna kiss girls
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aniseandspearmint · 2 days ago
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Oh, no PROBLEM, life happens, and I'm just glad you're doing better!
And it's never too late to pick fun things back up. I had to dig around for the notes i made for the next bit of this, and then re-read it over, because it HAS been a year! XD
SO, okay, a part 7!
YES, I am SO GLAD the way Frodo is NOT having a great or easy time came across! I’d hoped that would work! It can be hard, when your body changes and suddenly you’re not capable of the same stuff you were. I was trying to convey that kind of dysphoria.
Maedhros! Maedhros is HAVING A DAY. A good day! A MIRACULOUSLY GOOD DAY.
The kind of good day he can barely trust is REAL bc, lbr, he hasn’t really had a good day innnn. Um. Lets just say a long time. So this is the kind of day that has him covertly running mental checks just to make sure this is still reality. He keeps counting Maglor’s freckles and running his finger tips over his horse and her tack, and the tooling on his belt and faulds just to check that the things he’s seeing, and sensations he feels match up right.
He can at least throw himself into logistics a bit here, first in chivying all the escaped thralls our Intrepid (and exhausted) Heroes have been herding to safety in Himring.
Then he corrals Celegorm and Curufin. (This ended up mostly dialogue!)
Maedhros: *stares pointedly*
C&C: Err.
Maedhros: *calm and measured* I have heard what you’ve been up to in Nargothrond, brothers. Rest assured, I WILL be taking that out of your hides later. For now though *points at the crowd of people filling the hall behind them* Exactly WHAT happened to do THAT?
Curufin: Honestly we don’t KNOW, Nelyo!
Celegorm: When we caught up to them, Finrod, Beren, Luthien, Huan, Tyelpe and that Annatar ner were already gone off to Angband, leaving Finrod’s steward and Frodo to hold the camp.
Maedhros: *blinks* Frodo? Who? And what kind of a name is that? (Note: Frodo is WESTRON it’s gotta sound SO WEIRD to the elves tbh. He’s definitely gonna get slapped with a proper elven name at some point here. Elves gotta give people extra names after all especially in the first age)
C&C: *baffled kind of shrugs*
Curufin: *glowers* The boy is SOMEWHERE in the crowd. He’s remarkably cagey for a boy who can’t be more than 80, and I haven’t been able to corner Tyelpe about him yet, but he rather looks REMARKABLY like that Annatar. And Mother. And Grandfather. (Note: Frodo probably doesn’t look quite like a teenager really, but he’s so coltish in his new body, that’s coming across as youth to the elves that see him)
Maedhros blinks at that. Well. He never thought Tyelpe the sort, but, well, Curufin had been a bit smothering since they’d come to Beleriand. He’s thought Tyelpe was weathering it with more grace and patience than was usually found in their line, but maybe he’d just decided to go around his father? He wouldn’t be the first in the family for that. (Note: yesss Mae, make some logical conclusions with the info you have! Compare him to you and Finno a bit! You’re VERY wrong but it’s still a good guess!)
Celegorm: He’s got one of Tyelpe’s hairclips. One of the ones father made.
Maedhros: *eyebrows* Interesting. But, at this moment, irrelevant. We can sort that out later. What else can you tell me?
Celegorm: A few hours after we got there, the whole ground heaved like a shaken table cloth. Then some hours after that, Tyelpe and everyone came out of the night leading that lot *waves a hand a the hall* Tyelpe had the silmarils.
Curufin: There wasn’t really TIME to stop and ask questions. We regrouped and lit out for Himring. Luthien is TERRIFYING by the way. She provided the bulk of the power, her and that Annatar. We pitched in too but them, us, Finrod, and Tyelpe have been cycling songs of power for- *blinks* How long has it been since Angband shook, Nelyo?
Maedhros: thirteen days and nights.
Curufin: *sputters*
Celegorm: Huh. No wonder I want to sleep for a week. I haven’t done a march like that since I was with The Hunt. *waves* Anyway, we talked to a few of the thralls, and from what few who were in the throne room said, Luthien walked in all lovely and enchanting, and sang with three voices. It put Morgoth out like a fussy toddler. And then the wolves and the orcs, and even the balrogs, everything evil, dropped where they stood as well. The orcs were dead. No one checked the balrogs. Then Luthien’s man climbed the throne and took the crown and passed it down to Tyelpe. Then he and Annatar left and came back with BLASTING powder and lined the place while Morgoth slept.
Maedhros: *wheezing incredulous laugh*
Curufin: Annatar said the dragons were UNDER the throne room Nelyo. All the eggs, all the breeding stock.
Maedhros: *squints* *head tilt* wait. *slow blink* How would he KNOW that? I didn’t know that, and I know Angband as well as any former thrall.
C&C: *exchanged uneasy glances*
Curufin: We’re not sure. Finrod and Tyelpe trust him though. And, there’s Frodo. *vague hand wave* We heard some snatches of conversation, but nothing that makes much sense.
Maedhros: Right. Where’s Maglor? Nevermind, I saw him with Luthien, I’ll get them, and find Finrod. You round up Tyelpe and this Annatar fellow, and bring them up to my study. See if you can find the Frodo lad you mentioned.
Maedhros needs to corral all the important people ASAP and GET SOME ANSWERS.
He’s able to locate Maglor being charming at Luthien and Beren fairly quickly. Whereas Celegorm and Curufin look as if they’ve been on a hard march for days, Luthien, apart from the general grime of travel in the wilds, looks fresh as a daisy in may. Exactly how much power does she HAVE?? Never mind, one thing at a time. She and Beren graciously accept an invitation to a more private area. They’ve eaten and washed a bit, same as the throng of ex-thralls, but it’s VERY crowded. And They want to talk to Tyelpe, Finrod, Frodo, and Annatar too. They know more than Maedhros! But there wasn’t a LOT of time for other questions after establishing that there was some kind of time travel going on!
Tyelpe and Annatar aren’t hard to locate either. They knew this was coming. A quick wash up and food, and maybe a change of clothes, and it’s on to the Next Thing.
Note: oh. Huh. I didn’t think of it before, but I wonder what Annatar and Frodo are WEARING??? Some casual Valinorin clothes? I bet they were NOT dressed for getting dropped in the past! If it was just like, vibes based, maybe some clothes Annatar thinks of as ‘comfy’ rather than anything either of them might have been wearing before they were dropped into the past, since their bodies were created for this unlike Tyelpe or Finrod!
Annatar reluctantly taps on Frodo’s mind, and tells him Maedhros is collecting them.
Frodo, by this point, is not crying anymore, but is the kind of wrung out EXHAUSTED, that only days and days of rough travel and then a fierce crying jag will make you. Finrod almost offers to carry him, but Frodo just sets his mouth and gets up off the stone floor, doggedly putting one foot in front of the other and plodding along next to Finrod, who directs him around the crowd and into the keep proper.
Maedhros was somehow NOT expecting this Frodo child to look as much like family as Curufin and Celegorm insisted, but oh dear, if anything they understated it. He looks VERY much like the elf called Annatar. The hair, the skin, the eyes, but the other features. They were right, and Maedhros can see little echoes of his kin all over him.
He’s also swaying where he stands next to Finrod, with red eyes and tear tracks through the wilderness grime on his face. (Remember, Frodo skipped the wash up and clothes change area. Finrod too. I’m sure once they get through the first awkward conversation, someone will get them each a basin and some clean clothes!)
Maedhros makes eye contact with Finrod and jerks his chin at the soft couch set before the fireplace. Finrod takes the hint, and leads the young ner that is, in all likelihood Maedhros’s grand-nephew over and gently pushes him down on it.
Maedhros turns his attention to Tyelpe, and also Annatar. Tyelpe steps around Maedhros, and slings the crown off his torso and sets it down on Maedhros’s desk where it thuds down with a surprisingly light thump for a thing wrought of iron and misery.
Maedhros: So. Explain. Lady? This seems to have started with you?
Luthien shrugs gracefully, and sets herself down in Maedhros’s towering armchair before the fire and tells her part of the story. It is, thankfully, lacking the canon bits of C&C capturing her and being creepy assholes! Because Tyelpe stole Huan and met up with her before that could happen here!
When she’s finished with her part, with input from Beren, and Finrod, Maedhros turns and raises his eyebrows at his nephew.
Some very speaking looks are exchanged rapidly between Finrod and Tyelpe and Annatar and Frodo.
Finally Tyelpe just shrugs helplessly.
Tyelpe: Uncle, we have NO IDEA. One minute we’re in Fourth Age Tirion, the next I’m in Nargothrond and Finrod is in Sauron’s Tower, and Annatar and Frodo are there too. And Frodo is an elf.
Maedhros. Blinks. And replays that. Nope. Still makes absolutely NO sense.
Maglor: … I’m sorry, what?
Tyelpe: We’ve done this before. It all went SO much worse. Annatar wasn’t there before, though, or Frodo.
Finrod: Well. Annatar sort of was. Why are there two of you now, by the way? That’s. Kind of alarming.
Annatar: When I spoke to the One, and was changed, I was FUNDAMENTALLY changed. To hazard a guess, when this… Event happened, I was too different to integrate with my former self. He is maiar, I am elven. I came to my senses, he’s still following his shining plan.
Frodo: And me?
Annatar: We share something of our spirits on a deep level. And since hobbits have not woken yet, and will not for many many years yet, I imagine this was the only way for you to have a form here and now.
Frodo: *watery chuckle* Oh. Yes I suppose that makes sense.
Please imagine Maedhros and Maglor and C&C ping-ponging back and forth here, COMPLETELY CONFUSED by this conversation. But desperately trying to add up the bits they’re hearing into some kind of coherent narrative. Maedhros is squinting at Annatar with sudden DEEP suspicion.
Maglor: I’m sorry, can we back up a bit here? Fourth Age VALINOR????
Tyelpe: *sighs* *sits down next to Frodo* We all might as well sit down, this is going to take a while.
^__^
HEY.
I had the most interesting dream after falling asleep switching between the latest chapter of The Horrowing and a time travel fix it in another fandom. I thought you might enjoy a brief summary?
Post fic canon Annatar, Finrod, Celebrimbor, and Frodo getting the most hilarious do over of the First Age.
Finrod and Celebrimbor got dropped in their past bodies, bc same souls. Which has Finrod JUST captured by Sauron, before any of his 10 have been munched.
Celebrimbor is of course having a surreal not quite panic attack in Nargothrond.
Annatar, well. Annatar is CHANGED. He is quite literally too different from what he once was for them to qualify as the same soul anymore. Which is gratifying. If inconvenient bc there are now TWO of him, Annatar and full on Sauron. But they're similar enough that Annatar was dropped very close to Sauron.
Frodo is an elf. Dream logic was that hobbits do not exist yet, and his soul has touches of Annatar and Aman. He looks disconcertingly like a mix of Annatar and Celebrimbor, and they are NOT thinking about that right now. Hopefully ever.
Most of the dream centered around all of them doing their best to set aside freak outs, while getting Finrod and his merry band (plus Beren) OUT of Sauron's grasp.
There was a FANTASTIC moment where on the way out, Sauron comes face to face and soul to soul with Annatar and he's just like;
Sauron: *jaw dropped fully horrified face* WHAT are YOU?!?!?
Annatar: *shoving elves behind him, nose in the air* Wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy. *uses Song to blast him through a wall while he's distracted*
The whole thing featured 10 other elves and Beren as a baffled peanut gallery.
Meanwhile Celebrimbor is weighing the pros and cons of just- drugging his uncles and shoving them in a back room somewhere where he can bolt the door. He thinks he can maybe get Huan to help if he explains?
It was SO much fun.
(hope you have a good day!)
Oh my god. This may be the best ask I've ever gotten, for so many reasons.
The fact that your subconscious was like "Yeah if Frodo's getting a new body it looks like Annatar For Some Reason"
The image of future!Annatar getting into a fight with Sauron in front of Finrod (probably happy about this development) and Beren and the other 10 (INCREDIBLY CONFUSED)
The fact that the dream was partially centered on everybody trying not to panic, which is in fact what the Harrowing is all about for a while
Absolutely incredible.
...I feel so bad for poor Celebrimbor dealing with Nargothrond all by himself while the others are off having adventures. I hope their next stop after the rescue is to swing by and pick him up. Also, I dearly want to know what Annatar has to say to Beren on the subject of his current Luthien-and-Thingol-and-Silmarils situation.
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seventhseian · 3 days ago
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That familiar feeling ── the feeling of being complete
⤷The term 'miss' feels like an understatement.
contains: fluff! f!reader in mind, iwa filo hc >__<
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There is a sense of familiarity that seeps within you even when you're asleep. Maybe it was also some kind of muscle memory tucked beneath in between your ribs, but then it would make more sense to call it the feeling of familiarity.
Right now, that feeling of familiarity was not present, only the cold that dances on your bare arms that sends shivers across your spine. It's cold despite the thick comfort of your fleece, and there was also the absence of warmth that you've grown accustomed to every night ever since you moved in with Iwaizumi.
He's been gone for a week, somewhere in his own province in the Philippines, enjoying and basking in the warmth of his own homeland. Iwaizumi had asked you to come with him, but because of how busy your work was currently doing, you had no choice but to decline with a promise that you'd tag along next time. While helping with packing his stuff, you couldn't help but to let a coo slip pass your lips when you notice the frown that settled on his lips.
Iwaizumi has been gone for a week, but alas, tonight is the night that you'll finally get him back.
You could only lay alone for now, falling in and out of sleep, (im)patiently waiting to hear the sound of keys jingling and the doorknob turning. He'd get inside, puts his shoes next to yours, his coat will be hung next to yours, and then he'd stand there, finally back in the home he has built with you.
And then you finally feel the dip of his weight on your shared bed.
"I'm home."
With limbs entangled within the thick fleece, eyelashes flutter softly when you slowly opened your eyes to the beauty of the night ── Iwaizumi. He sits at the edge of the bed, gaze as fond as the day he admitted that he might like you more than he can actually decipher. His fingers had already moved, combing through your hair, earning a chuckle from him when he feels a knot. You could only grumble, closing your eyes once again.
There's a pause before Iwaizumi began to speak.
"... A week without you feels like hell, mahal."
You hum, his hand now settled on top of your cheek, calloused thumb rubbing against your skin. It feels sharp, and you still feel it even through the embrace of slumber that slowly takes you in. Still, it was comforting.
"You're really gonna fall asleep after not seeing me for a week?"
He pouts, waiting for you to open your eyes once more, but to no avail, you remain still, soft snores coming out of your slightly parted lips. His pout dissipates, his expression now replaced with something soft.
This is what life is all about, and Iwaizumi had missed this. He missed his family and the feeling of being back in his home country, but sometimes, nothing really beats the feeling of being back with the woman who thought you how to breathe.
So he doesn't waste any more of the time and slips beside you after discarding his shirt. He sticks himself underneath the fleece with you, and only then did the feeling of familiarity struck when he lays his arm and your head immediately finds its way to rest on it until you're tucked in his arm once again.
This was it. This was the feeling you're familiar with.
©seventhseian 2024 ── PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME.
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strawberrykidneystone · 4 hours ago
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i guess she's gotta cut her blue hair off
summary: you and sevika hadn't seen jinx since isha died, and you were getting worried. until she showed up at your doorstep looking more lost than ever
a/n: jinx is alive idc idc
tags: ANGST, self harm mentioned briefly, grief, crying, hair cutting
ao3 version
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it was late at night when you heard a loud pounding at your door. you looked at sevika curiously and she shrugged, glancing over at the door with the same confusion as you.
waking over to the door and checking the peephole, you immediately recognized the blue hair and bright pink eyes of your “honorary daughter”. when you opened the door, it was like seeing a ghost of someone who was once jinx.
her hair was down for the first time you had ever seen and the vibrant energy that was usually around her was just... gone. she was a shell of a person she once was and she came to the only two people who had accepted her for who she is, the only two people who were almost as close to isha as she was.
you immediately ushered her in and called out for sevika who was in her office looking over silco's old papers, trying to gain some semblance of how to gain order for zaun once again. when she came around the corner and saw jinx, her face slightly paled with her mouth hanging open.
none of you spoke.
you brought her to the couch in the living room and sat her down, isha's toys laid untouched on the ground as neither you nor sevika had the heart to pick them up. jinx quietly leaned down to pick one up and turned the toy over in her hand, her bottom lip trembling so much it made your chest ache to think of what must be running through her mind. sevika quietly walked up behind the couch and put a hand on your shoulder, looking worriedly at jinx.
she finally looked up and met your eyes, letting the toy fall from her hand, "cut it."
you furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head in concern, "what?"
she clenched her jaw and gripped the ends of her hair, pathetically holding them up to you. she let her head fall and hung her head low in quiet shame, "cut. it."
you patted sevika's hand and glanced back at her as you softly asked, "baby, can you get the scissors from our bathroom?"
" 'course," she nodded and quickly set off, almost desperate to get out of the cold atmosphere of the room.
jinx's breath hitched as she convulsed forward and started sobbing, pressing her hair against her eyes with her nails digging into the skin above her eyebrows. you pulled her forward into your chest and held her as she screamed out, hitting the top of her head with her hair balled up in her fists. you grabbed her wrists to stop her from hurting herself and silently cried with her, using one hand to hold her wrists together while the other one petting her head.
"i know, i know, just let it all out," you said in the most comforting manner that you could, your voice breaking as a wave of grief crashed over you as you held one of the girls you considered a daughter in your arms, knowing that you would never see her little sister again. you squeezed your eyes shut and silently cursed hextech and whatever fate kept jinx from being happy for once in her life.
sevika rushed back into the room and held out the scissors to you, her eyes shifting between you and the back of jinx's head.
"i'm gonna cut your hair now, are you sure this is what you want?" you asked quietly, another sob leaving jinx's mouth as she nodded assuredly.
"okay then," you pushed back the hair from her forehead and kissed her temple. she was shaking like a leaf and clung to the front of your shirt, kneeled between your legs. you held up the first chunk of hair on the side of her head and eyeballed it to about chin length, unsure of how much she truly wanted gone.
with a single snip, it was gone.
jinx felt the weight lifting off of her head and sucked in a stuttering breath, reaching up to the cut piece. she pinched the shorter strands and ran her fingers through it, suddenly tugging on the rest of her hair, "off! i want it off now!"
"okay okay, it's gonna come off," you said as calmly as you could and quickly started chopping off uneven parts of her hair, trying to get the length as even as possible but it was a little hard as she kept jerking forward as she wept. you held chunks with one hand and hacked away with the other, long blue strands falling off her back and crumpling onto the floor. with each close of your scissors, you couldn’t help but feel like you were cutting years off of her life.
as soon as you cut all the way around her head, jinx suddenly froze, shaky hands reaching up and feeling the uneven hair. she grabbed at her hair and rocked back and forth, mumbling things that you couldn’t make out to herself. a warm palm pressed against your back and you looked up at sevika with watery eyes. her eyes were darting nervously around the room with so much uncertainty, something you knew she was very uncomfortable feeling.
suddenly, jinx reached up and cupped your cheeks with her pink eyes boring into yours, a genuine smile on her face, “thank you.”
you returned the smile and curled your hands around her wrists, “anytime.”
she pulled her hands away and ran out of the front door before you could say anything else or ask why, leaving you sitting on the couch with a halo of blue hair in front of you. sevika rounded the couch and kneeled down next to you, taking one of your hands in hers, “are you okay?”
you nodded quietly and stared down at the long blue hair, a sense of dread filling your chest. tugging sevika close, you engulfed her in a tight hug that she immediately reciprocated.
“what the fuck are we gonna do with all that damn hair?”
you snorted and buried your face into her chest, “god i don’t know… i’m worried about her sev.”
“…me too” she said barely above a whisper, kissing your cheek softly.
“we’ll find her in the morning. for now, let’s get some sleep,” she said definitively and picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your shared room.
isha’s toys and jinx’s hair haunted your living room, with jinx destined to see isha again soon.
a/n: imagine caitvi having sex during this that's CRAZY😭😭😭
taglist: @maneskinwh0re @archangeldyke-all
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cannibalsrider · 2 days ago
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Darling, I
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pairing: post ts!kuroo x Artist! gf
wc: I think like 1.2k
a/n:really enjoyed writing this after struggling alot these last two weeks mentally but I hope you guys enjoy this and let me know if you wanna know more about these two for future posts ^_^ also this grammar wise is gonna be so bad because I've been awake since 10pm and its now 1:38 pm and running on fumes
“Yn” Tetsuro called from the doorway just loud enough over the sound of her music playing in the background as she worked on a new piece for the JVA “Huh what’s up” Yn responded not moving from her spot at her desk the drawing tablet flipped on as the only source of light in the room since the sun had already gone down for the night “you should finish up for the night it’s getting late isn’t it?” He asked her, knowing she had been working on the new holiday promotional merchandise for the JVA and had been working on god knows how many things besides that project he had commissioned. 
She nodded checking the time realizing it was already eleven pm “Jeez it’s already this late” she mumbled rolling her stiff neck whenever she got focused on her deadlines and Producing quality work for it she was like a train that never seemed to stop hell even faster than the bullet train sometimes depending how big the art piece is “how far have you gotten?” Tetsuro asked leaning against the doorframe it wasn't enough to completely see her drawing tablet with how she was sitting.
 "I've got the base of it done I think it should be done by later tomorrow if I work all day on it so it can be on time for the deadline" she answered sliding over slightly as she motioned for him to come closer so he could get a better look “it looks amazing Yn I love how you did it and everything just looks so well done” he praised with that smile he always loved her art ever since primary school he always liked to see the things he drew and to read her manga panels in the school paper even when she gave up on drawing for years because she thought it was the right thing to stop because all her friends thought it was weird she put so much time into it until she got back into it for a contest that she entered with a girl who she shared the panels with.
“I'm serious Yn it's already so amazing” he added earning a sheepish smile from his girlfriend “i mean id hope so since it will gonna be shown to a crap ton of teens and others around the country” she responded looking up at him from the corner of her eye before looking back down at the tablet on her table after a moment of watching it deciding to click the save button before shutting down her PC setup in her office “alright let's get to bed its late isn't it” she told him sarcastically as she stood up from her desk chair shooing him out so she could go wash her face before they head to bed 
“Yeah you've been held up in here all day” he quipped back following right behind her already in his pajamas for the night “that's what you say every time” she hummed standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom the faucet running 
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we didn't have our careers?” Tetsuro asked watching her almost as if he was watching a painting he must have found breathtaking he liked to say she reminded him of a Renaissance painting sometimes especially when she was doing mundane tasks or working on things “i like to think i would still be in the art type of job but instead i would have pursued being a mangaka y’know?” she answered clicking open her face wash and putting some on her hand as she spoke 
“Or maybe a teacher and I would have gone back to work at Nekoma” she added knowing that ever since she was young it was three things when it came to her art, history, and music she always thought it would be one of those places catching her eye in life.
 never once did she think it would be graphic design though for most of her commissions besides when the JVA commissions her work “what about you?” she asked continuing on with her skincare as he deliberated beside her “probably still doing volleyball maybe or coaching” he answerd she knew in some ways he still wanted to play and go professional like alot of his friends did but he grew to love his job and the life he built but anything would be amazing as long as they were together thats what he always said when one of them felt real discouraged with something they had been trying to pursue in or on a specific project.
“Bet you’d be going pro or something if you kept with it” she said drying her face off from the extra water on her cheeks after a moment setting down the towel as she watched him back for a moment like it was a staring contest or something “eh who knows maybe” he hummed turing on his heel so he could go back into their bedroom “shut off the lights in there” he called out as a reminder knowing she had a habit of forgetting to turn them off at night 
With a small click shutting off the overhead light in the bathroom she followed the hall back to their room knowing he was probably already in bed since it was a long day for them both but its not like long days would truly matter they would always still be by each others side no matter what and know stress was okay and that the other could help to try and lessen that burden 
As she slid in beside him for the night it was like clockwork for her body the tense muscles and aches she had from the day just seemed to melt away beside him because she knew it was safe she knew that she would be safe with him just like she always was ever since junior high
“What would you thin about getting married one of these days yn?” tetsuro asked his chin resting on the top of her head as he held her close she must have seemed so confused with the little huh she made “id do it” she mumbled out as a response before adding “i mean id do anything with you tetsu your like my other half at this point” she added snuggling into him closer she wasnt wrong he really was like her other half the yang to her yin and the sun to her moon 
She knew if he was to ask her it would be an immediate yes it always would be because god would she be a dumbass to say no to the rooster head he was as sweet to her as a bag of sweets he reminded her of home an at this point he was home to her he always had been 
She would always feel at home listening to his heartbeat knowing he was gonna be okay and that nothing bad was gonna happen to him with how bad her anxiety got for no reason sometimes it was always comforting when she would get him all to herself for a bit even if it was just for the night.
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spotaus · 3 days ago
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YEAHHHH!!!!!! >:D
Ancha I am SO glad you liked it because. Ough. I started writing it at like 11 at night and just. Kept going??? I was so so pumped!!!
I'm gonna try and follow where you went with the ideas, gimme a sec-
Okay so, yeah! Nightmare, at this point, views the training has his relax time! Kinda how someone can spend all their time doing work, say writing reports, and still enjoy writing stories in their free time! It still challenges him and interests him, but it's in a way with low stress. His knights can improve inch by inch now that their foundation is stable! And the training room is one of the most secure rooms in the castle, thanks to reinforcing it to withstand magic attacks!
And I really really wanted to take on idea of each of the guy's strengths! You got it perfectly so I'll try not to linger, but I kinda wanted to run off that original idea I had for the Knights knowing eachother and being in sync, but now it's more fitting to their personalities since I've gone into more depth with them! Killer has greatly influenced the others, in the way they fight and the way they act on the battlefield. It's like setting loose a feral animal on all these Knights who are Not Ready for dirty fighting. (Dust was used to diplomatic scuffles gone wrong, usually with the use of enchanted weaponry, Horror just. Did not fight prior to this. Abd Cross, as mentioned, was a muscle-memiry routine combat kinda guy!) And in the same breath, Killer learned from them too! Night might be their mentor, but Killer was committed to being a good influence on them, even if it didn't register to any of them-
A lot of that was also me trying to get a grip on how they'd behave in such a space alone with Night. Killer the most relaxed, Cross the most nervous, etc! And the little banter between them was fun!! (I also was trying to use technique I learned recently so combat reflection was a good opportunity for it, haha!)
One of my favorite bits in the beginning I think was, like you mentioned, Nightmare making sure they left training on a high note! I took the idea from your Q&A drabble actually, when u mentioned Night looking for ways to better keep hold of his knights? Yeah, he ensures to be even more vocal about what he noticed everyone doing well, just so they know! And Cross takes the praise the best visually, but he can tell the others at least seem pleased by it <3
Lastly!!! Yes, the bed-time was meant to be sorta a hint to the incoming turn of events, but it's also just meant to be a cute lil cameo too!! I think a few things never quite left his habits (like, his body getting more tired around Bedtime even though he regularly skipped sleep all together anymore) because. Y'know! Adult body still has Kid Night in there running the show! And because of the weird suspended state of his mind, it left him with odd quirks!
Okay, okay, hearing that you enjoyed the drama bit makes me SO happy, because this time I wanted to go with sonething that felt a bit more Nightmare-accurate. Night was always a quiet kid, a fawn rather than fight or flight, he kept his emotions tight to his chest because so few people cared in the first place. So, when his magic (the thing that made his moves for him, before he could freeze up or downplay or smother his feelings) Leaves? He's exhausted, and confused, and scared, and frankly out of it. He fawns again!
And the magic leaving, this time I wanted it to feel like it was in a moment of lull, no tension, no stakes (aside from a stinky Killer) and no sign for Night that anything was wrong. It all just dipped at once, and as it left his awareness it left him dizzy, disoriented, and!!!! I'm glad that you caught that he couldn't feel anything because the magic refused to work with him anymore!!! So the normal input didn't transfer to him!!! That weird lack of senses was also sort of my excuse to let the Knights start freaking out! Because idk how clear it was (intentionally not very if I did my job right lol-) but when Night's balance starts to screw up, Killer turns around. But it's Night initially who reaches out and grabs his arm, and then Killer has indirect permission to support his weight further and grab hold of him! Night subconsciously reached out to Killer, even if he didn't realize it in the moment. And ofc that's Killer being like 'oh that's not normal'.
And!!! Like in the og drabble, Dust goes on high alert immediately, but this time Cross and Horror hesitate! There's a part that Nightmare misses where Horror expresses worry and suggests he should grab the first aid and take a look, and Killer tells him no. Because Night (in that moment) is unresponsive, and Killer doesn't think Horror coukd help even if he tried. He might make it worse. And Horror tries to press his offer, before Night comes-to again to hear Killer snap at Horror to get Ccino! And like you said, Killer has no idea what's happening, but he's sure if anyone could help it would be Ccino! And in the meantime he just tries to keep Nightmare close, keep him steady. He doesn't like it one bit, but he knows he has to keep watch because Dust doesn't sense/see anyone, and Cross doesn't either as he guards the door!
And, ofc, Killer was horrified to find what was basically a babybones in his arms when all the goop left, but he was also shaken because. Well. That's the Prince from the tapestry. Night doesn't make the connection, but he'd seen images of Nightmare a few times, abd certainly images of his twin, enough to recognize that. Yeah. That's the same guy. And he can't explain it, but since Dust chimes in with magic loss, Killer makes some leaps in judgement. (Also!!! Dust isn't good with magic usually, but Nightmare's was so impressive it was always looming. The moment it was gone he spoke up. He's also OBNOXIOUSLY familiar with symptoms of magic loss. For. Obvious reasons 🙏)
Nightmare, in his fawning, couldn't decide whether the voice in his head reminding him that these Knights were kind, loyal souls was right, or if the instincts telling him to get away NOW were winning. He compromised in the firm of 'can't really move anyways so I'll sit here and be scared'.
And!!!!! I'm glad u liked Killer telling Cross to hold onto the magic! Killer's smart, and a fast thinker, and Cross was the nearest thing with any chance if keeping his king from??? Melting??? And to Cross' credit he DID grab it! He did great! (He feels awful about it after because from what *he* saw, it didn't help. It did! He just doesn't know!)
And. Ccino's piece in this was probably the part I was least certain on. Because Ccino assumed the Knights somehow set Nightmare into one of his worse episodes. Or, worse, he worried Night accidentally hurt one of the Knights and panicked. Horror was pretty vague about why he needed to hurry. And Ccino gets there and- well.
He hasn't seen that little skull in seven years, and it's got a big crack, and it's trembling, and one big eyelight is looking up at him. Nightmare was always his little brother, and yet all at once his instincts kicked back in. This was no powerful bomb waiting to be nudged just too far before exploding, not some otherworldly tyrant. This was his Nighty, somehow back to the way he was the day he protected his twin and swore into the prophecy. This was HIS Nighty.
So, for the first time in a while he drops pretenses. There's no effort to hide him away, Ccino knows well enough that trying to remove Nightmare from the Knight's vision right now would possibly get them both in hot water. So he does what he can, throws open his arms, and coddled his little brother tightly. So, so tightly. He has no idea how, or why, and obviously it's the same Night who'd spent the morning writing laws, but it was so surreal that he just had to get him close!!!!!
And Night, yeah, he just feels safe with Ccino, and irrational mind running off of a huge magic-drop? He deemed Ccino's arms a perfect place to shed some tears and then pass out-
If I had to do a follow-up it'd definitely be either a Ccino or Killer chapter following either the moment Night is free of the goop (Killer) or the moment he enters the training room (Ccino) and then the conversational aftermath! (I also think they move the whole party to Nightmare's room eventually, and somewhere along the line Dust brings up that lighter foods might help-) just lil silly details haha! But it's basically a force of nature making the Knights and Ccino agree to a pact of sorts just to agree to help Nightmare. He's still the king. He's just... young now. Again.
Okay I got a lil wild but- I'm just so so happy you enjoyed it!!! A healthy balance if shenanigans for the boys, panic for Nightmare, and an unexpected surprise for Ccino!!!!
New Age AU (The Magic Retreats)
Hi guys!!! So, I wrote this one in a fit of passion, but here's a brief take 2 on the most important chapter of the fic and the first one I posted! (In which Night becomes Tiny again :] ) As always this drabble is unedited and un-checked so uhh. Good luck!
(HI @ancha-aus , @papiliovolens , and @mutzelputz welcome back!)
   The days felt like they were growing longer again. Maybe it was the change of the seasons, or the workload ramping up again making his nights bleed into his mornings. No matter the case, Nightmare was lucky to have moments of rest from his endless piles of debts and taxes and laws and requests that were strewn all about his office. They were nice, neat, piles now, but they seemed to be an endless cycle. He'd solve one problem and it would result in a new report of catastrophe somewhere else.
   Often, he wondered whether it was that his Mother's ruling style had truly worked, or if she'd ignored it. After all, she'd been a God amongst mortals, why would she care for a few challenged livelihoods amidst her paradise?
   The sharp clash of metal on magic drew Nightmare's attention back to the present. Against all odds, he'd managed to convince Cross to start training his sword again. When Cross had first started getting lessons to properly control his magic, harnessing even whisps of Nightmare's own spells on occasion, he'd quickly neglected his physical training. Over the last few weeks, Nightmare had voiced his worry that Cross might find himself up against another foe like Dust. One who he couldn't simply control. He needed to re-learn his old battle tactics. Only then, he'd promised, they would move on to harnessing both at once.
   So, now, he was sparring against Horror in the training room. Nightmare sat off to the side on the benches, Dust and Killer on either side of him watching intently. Two of his tendrils hovered readily before him, ready to pounce to intercept any wayward attacks or truly dangerous intent, though he trusted his Knight to not put his newest comrade in any real danger. The other two tendrils lay lax behind the bench, curling comfortably beneath where his other Knights sat at his sides.
   These were the sorts of daily distractions he enjoyed. Which pulled him away from the stress of the papers and the outside world. He could focus solely on his charges and how best to help them. They helped him so often, he just wanted to return the favor.
   His eyelight followed the movements, as Horror stayed more or less right on Cross's tail. His axe swung slower than normal, and it was obvious he was taking the training seriously without giving Cross a heart-attack from the force of his normal blows. It wasn't often Nightmare allowed them to pair up precisely because of that. Horror had no magic for Cross to control, none that would help him at least. Meanwhile, Horror's brute strength could snap Cross like a twig if something were to go slightly awry.
   A swing of the axe, Cross's longsword cracking against the handle as he blocked. A push-off, sending Cross back a few steps before he swung. Missed. The axe was on him again, this time towards his side. Cross jumped over it, swung his sword. Missed again. The axe came in again, from above. A narrow block, one which forced Cross to his knee, before Horror let up.
   Horror was simply a marvel of physical combat. He hadn't been a good fighter when Nightmare met him, but he'd learned very quickly. From watching the guards, from listening to Nightmare. Though, Nightmare was almost positive Killer had actually been his biggest influence. Killer, the cockpit, single Knight at that time. He'd taken Dust under his supervision at the time, practically heading the dismantling of the crime rings Dust knew so well all on his own. Meanwhile, Nightmare was working with Horror to understand how to fix the farming situation across the kingdom. Once things settled, and Nightmare expressed interest in having Horror stick around, it was Killer who showed off in combat training. Horror spun off his feet and pushed off his hands in the way expected of a much smaller, leaner, monster. Very similar to how Killer fought when he was playing around.
   It was evidently too unfamiliar for Cross. He'd been taught formal swordplay, but here in this kingdom? That was about as useful as playing with a slingshot and trying to operate a trebuchet. It seemed similar, but it could only get one so far.
   Cross had been steadily improving, of course. Just a year or so ago, Cross had been besting all the rest of the royal guard out on the training field. But placed against Killer, the best of the best at practical combat, no holds bar? He'd fumbled. Now, Nightmare knew Cross could hold his own against his proudest Knight. That meant a lot in such a short time. Pride filled his chest at the thought, as he watched the two of them clash again and again.
   He knew his time was running short for today. He'd had Dust and Killer work on their team-building and attack him earlier on in training while Cross and Horror were warming up. As he already knew, they were chatty, but very efficient in their coordination.
   "On your left!" Killer would call out. Dust would simply duck as Killer instead vaulted over his head as though emerging from the shorter Knight's shadow, knife in hand, glowing red with energy.
   Killer's use of deceptive verbal cues was a talent he'd come up with all his own. Nightmare remembered him pestering Dust over it every dinner for a week after he'd first thought of it. Dust had seemed annoyed at first, but Nightmare could tell after the first session of them trying it out, against him? He'd been unaware, and if his magic didn't work separate from his mind on occasion, they would have gotten him in the first two minutes.
   They'd used it again earlier, and even after several years it still kept Nightmare on his toes. He figured that was why he felt tired as he watched the two locked in mock battle before him. The cognitive challenges did tend to make his socket heavy with sleep. And he hated to admit it, but he always knew about when to end their afternoon trainings, because it lined up with when his mind would start to lag. Even years later, his body still seemed to respond to the familiar draw of a long-discarded bed time.
   He'd let them exchange a few more blows, before calling it off and ushering them all off to clean up before dinner. Even if he knew only Cross and Dust would go wash up. Horror would go change out of his training gear into clean clothes, he hated to look messy at the dinner table, abd Killer would simply stick to his side like glue.
   It never was a point of complaint, he appreciated the commitment, but sometimes he really did wish he'd at least take a moment to swap clothes. Sometimes he tracked all sorts of dirt and scraps of magic out of the training room and into the halls.
   Mm. The clashing seemed to have reached a rhythm. That meant Cross had gotten familiar with Horror's movement patterns again. It never lasted long, Horror was very adaptable, but it did mean that Cross would be locked into the stalemate now, or it'd be an easy defeat for Horror. Better to call it now and send them off with a bit of praise. They never ceased to impress him, they'd all grown so much.
   "Alright, end the match." he called. It didn't take hardly a moment for the order to register after his voice carried to the two monsters.
   Cross was the first to pull away, with Horror letting his swing fall short and his Axe's momentum swing up and into the air. He caught the grip and almost immediately stuffed it back into its own holster along his back. Cross sheathed his sword, and while a bit out of breath, he still grinned triumphantly and bowed amicably to Horror. Horror returned it with a nod. Their little ritual.
   "Wonderful work today, all of you." Nightmare announced, his front two tendrils slinking back to his sides as they no longer had danger to be hyper aware of. To defend against. "Tomorrow, I want to see you two spar again, I believe you are making great leaps in progress, Cross. Dust will provide you both with terrain obstacles in the form of erratic magic attacks to simulate a more turbulent battle field and provide Horror with more opportunity to practice dodging." The suggestion seemed well-recieved, and Nightmare let his good eyelight turn to Killer, who sat grinning beside him. "Killer, you and I will be doing more endurance training for your magic."
   "Looking forward to it, my Lord," Killer replied.
   That made Nightmare chuckle a bit. Once upon a time, Killer would tense up at the premise of magic training. Then, as he grew bolder, groan at the mention. He was not proficient in the sort of magic Cross, Dust, or he himself relied on, but his preferred weapon was a knife or two summoned by his own soul. Since it was magic, Nightmare insisted he learn to better sustain and alter it rather than letting it atrophy in the wake of his extensive physical training. Now, seeing him grin lazily at the idea, not a worry weighing on his soul? It made Nightmare feel a lot more justified in making the rambunctious Knight do the more "boring" practical training.
   "If we understand what to expect for the afternoon tomorrow, then you are dismissed. I will see you all at dinner," he declared. Humor filled his chest at the warmth which rolled off his knights at the mention of food. Dinner was always cooked by Ccino, and Ccino was the best cook. Nightmare would know.
   He watched as Cross gave a little salute before he turned on his heel to begin to follow Horror's lumbering gait towards the heavy doors separating this room from the hall. The newest Knight's voice was quiet, but excitable as he started to reflect on his techniques to Horror. He always debriefed after a training.
   Beside him, Dust swung forward off the bench and landed silently, already moving to follow the other two. His body-language always seemed disgruntled, and his expression was hidden under his darkened hood, but Nightmare knew he was pleased with his work tonight. Content with what he had accomplished.
   "Cross is gettin' a lot faster." Killer's voice was calm beside him, and Nightmare followed the other's hollow gaze to where the other three were discarding their gear, hanging it up on the racks near the door where they always stored the supplies.
   Four spaces, one for each knight. Killer had gouged his name into the wooden base of his own years ago.
   "I agree." Nightmare let one of his tendrils wrap at the ground around a leg of the bench. "It helps that he is eager and willing to improve on his skills. And that he has others to lean on as he continues to learn."
   Killer's scoff quickly devolved into a laugh at the thinly veiled praise. It wasn't unusual of him to slip it into conversation. A quick, gentle nudge of praise. Acknowledgement and appreciation. Killer had heard to most of it, and Nightmare often worried he'd find it insincere.
   As far as he knew, he never did.
   "You should go put up your armor as well." Nightmare suggested, nudging at Killer's back with a tendril.
  
   "Yes, sir." Killer chimed, the sharpness of his laughter still on his tongue.
   Nightmare rose simply, and Killer pushed off the bench with a quick hop. His feet planted, and Nightmare waited for him to take a step towards where the others were before moving to follow. It felt right, to see them all in one spot. Relaxed.
   He moved to follow Killer's quick steps, only... All at once his vision seemed to double, and he halted himself. He could feel his tendrils lash out, moving to stabilize him against the floor of the training room. He still stood upright, just barely, but it seemed all his balance had left him. Instinctively, in a fit of habit, he shut his good socket and took a moment. The swaying feeling he was gripped by, even after a deep breath an counting to five, did not fade. The darkness which usually seemed to calm him only seemed to make the swaying worse. He could not tell if the motion was coming from him, or I the ground beneath him was shifting like the deck of a boat. Without his vision he couldn't orient up versus down, let alone find his stability again.
   Opening his good socket provided him with orientation, though his vision still danced and swirled. He was looking down, down towards the brick ground, from the space behind his palm. When did he place his hand to his socket? The view included his legs, which he recognized now were shaking, and his tendrils which were trying to hold him in place.
   And...
   He jolted at the contact he could see but hadn't felt in the slightest. He skull reeled up so that he could see who had touched him. One hand on his elbow. The other- when did he grab Killer's arm? When had Killer turned around to look at him? Why was Killer looking at him like that?
   It was Killer, who had ahold of him, though he couldn't feel the Knight's touch, and he couldn't tell if he was gripping the other's arm at all. Though he was, he could see it.
   His vision warped again with the quick movement. A desperate bid to look past Killer. Was there a threat? The blurry form of Dust shot past him, he thought. Horror and Cross still seemed to be by the door.
   The ceiling. Why was he looking at the ceiling? No, wait, the floor now. It grew closer, in the space between himself and Killer, as the opening for him to see it grew smaller. Then he couldn't see it at all, his vision replaced swiftly by- training gear. The leather smell invaded his senses as the rest failed him. He couldn't feel Killer, though he knew the knight was near to him. That, as far as he could tell, Killer had caught him. That he'd sunken to the ground under his own weight.
   Why?
   His socket wasn't being helpful. It seemed, from what he saw, that his tendrils were trying to melt away as they moved errantly to slap onto Killer's back or the ground beyond. Surely that wasn't right? His tendrils had never wavered. He shut his socket again, letting his skull sink into the training armor again.
   It didn't occur to him for a few moments, that he couldn't hear his knights, until he suddenly could.
   The voices were loud and grating, breaking his wobbling darkness once again as he tried to force his socket back open. What was wrong with him?
   "Horror, I said go get Ccino! Now!" Killer. He'd know that voice anywhere, though he didn't like the angry tone. Like fire spitting from his tongue seemingly right above Nightmare's skull. "This isn't some sort of test, I- I don't know what this is. It can't be good."
   Nightmare tried to reach out. Not physically, it felt he still couldn't control his limbs. No, he tried to sense. Did the others know what was wrong with him? Was the rising panic in his chest originating from his own emotions or theirs? Had... had one of them done something?
   No, it wasn't them.
   "Shit." Somewhere behind him, he heard Dust's voice hiss. "His magic levels are dropping. And fast."
   For a second, Nightmare was stunned. What did he mean his magic levels were dropping? Though, it made sense. Somewhere deep in his chest he could feel it, the swaying motion as his magic tried to peel away from his bones. He-
   "What do you-" Killer still sounded frustrated, and he too spat an expletive a moment later.
   Nightmare, for the briefest moment, thought he felt touch again against his skull. He let his blurry socket fall closed again, the vision only worsening as his magic rocked with unseen waves of revulsion.
   "Cross, try to grab his magic," Killer ordered.
   The familiar splattering of the young Night would've been comforting, if the suggestion didn't fill him with dread. Killer knew better than that. They'd agreed Cross could only touch on controlling his magic. Nothing more. It was too vast.
   "W-what! I- I shouldn't-" Cross attempted to stammer a defense, but Killer was quicker with words. Always had been.
   "Just try. Now. Hold it in place and see if it stablizes." The command was a lot more controlled than the previous one, but his tone was leaving no room for error. "When the King and Ccino are unavailable, I'm in charge. Listen to me."
   Nightmare had never heard Killer take charge in such a way before, and in his haze he might've written it off as a product of his imagination. All of this being some sort of weird hallucination. But he felt the invasive force of Cross' magic snake over his bones.
   He'd felt it before, a sort of blanket or hand-hold aimed at the ends if his tendrils which could make them twitch a bit with Cross's own will. This time he felt it creep up the length of his spine and dig unseen claws into his shoulder blades. He could feel it, just like he could now feel Killer's chin and shoulder, where his skull had been tucked. He could feel the hand supporting his back, the other his side. He felt limp as the forceful magic washed over him.
   Nightmare gagged.
   Cross's magic caught on something, like a hook finding the fish, and for a brief few moments, Nightmare felt like he had a ball of gunk in his non-existant gut. Something heavy and feral, trying to escape.
   For just a moment, he regained a breath of awareness. He felt his Knight supporting his weight, he felt the nakedness of his back where his tendrils had completely abandoned him, he felt the emotions of the three still with him. Fear. Confusion. Anger. He didn't like it much. He still couldn't move his limbs.
   And just as quickly as it was stable, the hold on the wild magic slipped away. Like the fish had broken the string.
   It flowed up, like the force of a dam finally released. Through his ribcage, past his shoulders where Cross's magic seemed to dissipate all at once, into his mouth.
   Nightmare regained some semblance of control over his body at that moment. As the magic seemed to rush towards freedom. He shoved away from Killer all at once, the chill of the stone hitting his palms heavily and his socket opening if only to watch as he lost it. That dark, thick, sticky magic that had marked him as a bad omen. That had gifted him the power to rule in place of his twin. Protect those he loved.
    It spilled to the stone before him, and he was stunned to watched that, as he heaved suddenly labored breaths, it sunk away. Disappeared. Just like that, instead of his familiar darkness, the protective shield, the instinctive defense he had grown to know, he was staring at the floor. And the space in which his wobbling arms hid under too-big sleeves, and from the cuffs escaped perfect, pearly-white bone. Bone he could never seem to reach no matter how hard he scrubbed with water and soap. Bones that seemed so frail in the torchlight.
   "My king?"
   Nightmare let his eyelight raise from the ground. It wasn't as wobbly anymore, his vision slowly coming back to normal. He still took his time trailing from the ground, to look at Killer's pants. He was on his knees, hardly an arm's length away. Then the edges of his chestplate. His arms were outstretched, hovering barely away from touching Nightmare. He shook at the closeness, but didn't dare try to move. Killer's soul was wobbling. Nightmare's boww furrowed at the sight. It was very small, but he'd always notice the little changes and moves. Though, he noticed an absence of something at the back of his skull as he stared. Something missing.
   Killer's face was last. He looked serious, his dark sockets not a new sight, but Nightmare hardly saw Killer so serious. He'd seen the look before. Usually when he'd see someone bothering Ccino. It had always been brief, quickly disguised under his patented sadistic grin. Killer just watched him now. As though he was sone glass sculpture ready to tip off the end of the table.
   He hated, as he stared, that he couldn't- he could feel-
   He tried to shift, to whip his head to look for the knight he knew should've been behind him. And he was right, of course. A glimpse of Dust's shadowed skull and tense body-language told Night he was on high-alert, but Nightmare hadn't been able to feel him. Hadn't sensed his presence at all. No emotions, no aura, no nothing.
  
   "Woah, steady!" Killer yelped as Nightmare felt himself tilt.
   Looking up at Dust had disoriented him. The weight distribution was different now. His body listed to the side, and he flinched when arms wrapped around at his sides and tugged his upper half onto soft fabric. Killer's legs. Killer had caught him.
   "My king, Nightmare, it's you, right?" He sounded the same. Something told Nightmare he was uncertain.
   "Y-" His attempt to speak was short-lived. His voice wasn't right. It was high-pitched and raw. All the rumble and low tones entirely missing. He couldn't be sure if he stopped on account of keeping his pride alive, or if he feared speaking in a voice he hadn't heard in years.
   It didn't help that he couldn't feel them. No matter how much he tried, the only feeling in his chest was his own solitary anxiety. Balling up tighter and tighter, an old friend come home again. If he could tell what they were thinking- if he could know if he was safe...
   He bit back his panic, holding in the weakness which was threatening to give him away. Though, what else was there to give? If he was right, then the prophecy had finally rejected him. Left him as an offering to a pack of wolves.
   Nightmare knew he was shaking, but some irrational part of him thought that if he kept his socket shut that this would all be some absurd night terror and he'd wake up cozy in his bed, or exhausted at his desk, or maybe passed out on the floor. Somewhere else. Anywhere else.
  
   "What's wrong?" That voice was deeply familiar, and all at once Nightmare felt like he had a surge of strength. "Why did Horror rush me back here? Where is our King?" It was Ccino. He sounded more frustrated than anything else, but he didn't need to feel his emotions to know the rise to his tone. The worry buried there.
   "We finished training and everything was fine," Killer explained, tone as even as he could muster, "But when we were on our way out, he just collapsed."
   Nightmare pitied him, having to tell Ccino any sort of bad news. Nightmare didn't think as he attempted again to shove himself up. If only to catch a glimpse of Ccino.
   As he peered barely over Killer's shoulder, he saw what the others did. Ccino had some sort if flour or wheat all down the front of his nice apron, and a few streaks along the thighs of hid pants from where he'd probably wiped his hands along the way. His expression was a mix of concern and fury that set Nightmare's soul into a pretzel-twist of regret, and his eyelights scanned the room as he rapidly approached Killer. Obviously looking for answers.
   Only, Ccino arrived to Killer's side, and his growing rage seemed to stop all at once, alongside his steps. He stared down at Nightmare with wide eyes. Nightmare stared up at him wearily. The king's sockets were beginning to water. Ccino's expression, the way his balled fists twitched and relaxed, the way he seemed to lose all the tension I'm his body, just getting a glimpse at him. Ccino recognized his face, no doubt about it.
   "Nightmare?" Ccino's voice was small.
   Nightmare fumbled a bit as he tried to launch away from Killer. Having Ccino so close to him simply... broke whatever had been holding back the emotional damage within. It didn't help in the slightest when Ccino crouched and immediately tugged him away from Killer and into a gentle bear-hug there on the floor.
   For the first time, in a very long time, he found that the welling of tears in his sockets didn't result in dark, tarlike, goop that fell in chunks down his skull. This time the tears were real, a transparent lilac which raced down his cheeks abd planted themselves against the fabric of Ccino's tunic and apron. He wasn't wearing his fur, he was smart like that.
   Ccino's arms wrapped around his back like they always did, and Nightmare felt himself slipping. Ccino was safe. He had always been safe.
   Nightmare didn't have time to begin sobbing as he had expected, or to even begin to hyperventilate into Ccino's shirt or curl into a ball against his chest. The moment Ccino nuzzled the side of his skull, his vision went blurry again.
   At the tightening of Ccino's grip, he heard Dust's voice again. "Magic-loss. A lot of it." Faintly rolled into his mind like a distance voice two doors over. He didn't quite catch when Killer started to speak again, or Ccino worriedly said his name. Dust was right, the magic was gone. Out of nowhere. It was a lot for his little body to handle.
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pxrplepolkadots · 4 months ago
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😶✨
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animalcuckllective · 10 months ago
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My insomnia is killing me. Why can't I just be tired when it's time for bed?
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covenofthearticulate · 2 years ago
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god. re-reading tvl for the first time since before the pandemic and it’s got me in my feels WAY more than expected. fucking rude.
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poguehearted77 · 28 days ago
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Wild Child
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summary: after being sent away to boarding school for being a wild child you're finally back and celebrating your return in the only way you see fit.
smut: pool party, ragers, drug use (alcohol, vapes n weed), size kink, Rafe is cocky, mentions of old flings, manhandling, hot tubs, they do it on her parents' bed, rough sex, step-mom slander, reader is such a flirt n a tease, curvy reader, dom! rafe, bratty! reader, skinny dipping, mentions of body shots, choking, spanking (like once).
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The morning sun was ascending high into the sky when you finally managed to get yourself out of your king-sized bed, fit for someone of your status and your parents' financial standing.
Your socked feet took padded steps towards your window where you overlooked the hills of figure eight. This was the first time you'd looked out your bedroom window in years. With a deep inhale a soft smile etched its way across your lips. You were finally home, and you had the house all to yourself. Or so you thought.
Your ears pick up on muffled indistinct chatter that managed to travel from the kitchen, down the halls up the elaborate staircase and into your room. Quickly, you headed for the source of the voices and were disappointed to see your dad and his wife plaything, Maria, conversing over coffee at the kitchen island.
"I thought you said the Jet leaves at dawn? What are you guys still doing here?" You try not to sound too curious, arms crossing naturally with your inquiry. With a clearing of his throat, your dad speaks up, "You only just came back two nights ago. Maria and I just don't think it's the right time to leave you alone for the weekend."
You scoff, "Why? You still don't trust me after what happened last time? Get over it, I'm twenty-one now, you can trust me." As you walked over to the fridge for a glass of water, you heard a muted exchange of ideas behind you.
"You can't expect us to forget about all the damage you caused. We still haven't found anyone to repair my crystal vases." You take a long sip, trying to swallow your toxic thoughts with the water.
She thinks she can just waltz up and down the house with that huge ring on her finger and think that her opinion carries any value to you.
You took a deep breath and plastered on a fake smile, pitching your voice to become as sweet as honey.
"I can never apologize enough for what I did back then, but how will I ever earn your trust if you don't give me the chance." Your doe eyes land on your father, specifically his weakened composure.
You're about to break him, you can see it.
He exhales, all the air escaping through his nostrils.
Broken.
He glances down at his watch, "Fine, but if you throw another party so help me god Y/n you'll never see grass again." You play it cool, thanking him with a simple hug and completely disregarding Maria before you make your way back upstairs.
It's as though a weight had been lifted off your chest. You needed them out of the house, you'd been planning this party since you got back and made sure all the guests knew to keep it on the down low, just until they were gone.
The hours fly by, and you hardly keep track of time as you and some of your long-time friends set up the house for the party that you shouldn't be hosting, but you're Y/n Sinclair. Parties are your thing.
"Macy, you let the people in, kay? I'm gonna go get changed." The sun was beginning to set and the music was already blasting, vibrating over the marble floors of the house. Every lyric was punctuated with a shaking of the speakers that could be felt even outside.
The neighbours hated to see you coming.
You know your dad's jet was en route to Fiji and he wouldn't be able to reach you until he landed which wasn't for another six hours at minimum but by then the damage will be long done and far too late to stop.
You make your way up the stairs, the bass thumping through the house and vibrating beneath your feet. As you step into your room, your reflection catches your eye, excitement sparking in your gaze.
With a quick flick of your wrist, you reach for the strappy black and red two-piece, slipping it on, the cool fabric hugging every curve just right. Each strap crisscrosses elegantly, bold yet balanced, making you smile at how perfectly it all came together.
Next, you grab the sheer cover-up, wrapping it loosely around your waist so it drapes with a hint of movement, a playful edge that sways with you. You run your fingers through your curls, scrunching them gently to bring out their bounce, each coil framing your face in soft waves. Reaching for your lip gloss, you swipe it carefully over your lips, catching the light with a glossy shine.
One last look, and you’re ready, your heart beating in rhythm with the music below. The speakers are already blaring, the energy practically calling you back down. You step out with a final tousle of your curls, ready to join the night.
The energy crackles through the backyard as you make your way to the top of the outdoor staircase. The sun has slipped beneath the horizon, casting a dusky glow over the massive pool below, illuminated by floating lights that shimmer across the water.
The bar is buzzing with people grabbing drinks, and in the corner, the foam pit is already filling up, laughter and splashes mixing with the heavy beat of the music.
A neon sign hangs across from the bar, glowing boldly against the evening sky: The Queen of Kildare is Back. You grin, amused at the sight of it knowing it was 100% Macy's doing, and take a step down. Conversations hush, replaced by the roaring blast of excitement as heads turn your way. Hundreds of people, from familiar faces to those you only vaguely recognize from your past in Figure Eight, pause and look up, anticipation brimming in their eyes.
As you descend, your cover-up billows behind you, revealing the bold lines of your black and red two-piece. The crowd’s reaction is instant, erupting into cheers, whistles, and applause that echo across the yard.
"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n" They chant and you laugh. Every step closer to the party, you feel the atmosphere thicken, charged with that infectious blend of excitement and admiration. By the time you reach the bottom, someone’s already handing you a drink, while friends rush over to pull you in for hugs and greetings, their voices nearly drowned out by the music and shouts.
"Y/n Sinclair, s'Been a while."
There's a voice all too familiar addressing you from behind, prompting you to pivot to come face to face with a much taller Rafe than your brain could recall.
"Rafe Cameron. Long time no see." He goes in for the hug, your arms reaching over his broadened shoulders while his longer ones wrap around your waist before pulling back. He not so subtly checked you out, his tongue darting out over his lips briefly as he took you in and you did the same.
The buzzed hair sharpens his features, you think. Making his eyes seem darker, more intense, as they focus on you. His open linen shirt falls loosely over his frame, giving glimpses of his toned chest and the subtle gleam of a thin chain resting against his skin.
The shirt flutters with the breeze, barely hanging on his shoulders, hinting at the strong lines of his arms and drawing your eyes down to his relaxed, dark swim trunks.
He’s saying something, leaning slightly toward you, and his voice cuts smoothly through the bass of the party. Your eyes wander back up to his face, catching the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if he knows he’s caught your attention.
"You look good, too good. How long's it been?" It's hard for you to think with the heat of his gaze on you, but you don't falter, never surrendering to this never-ending game between the two of you.
"About 3 years." He hums, the way he looks at you, casual yet purposeful, makes your pulse quicken, and suddenly, every sound around you fades, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the way he looks right at you, but you remind yourself to focus.
Rafe looks around the scene, eyes lingering over the wet t-shirt contest and then the game of chicken being held in the pool while others lounged on the various floaties or indulged in ungodly amounts of alcohol at the bar. As he does so, the pungent scent of weed drafts across your nostrils.
"Your old man know you're hostin' tonight?" You had to laugh, "Oh please, like he would ever let me have any kind of fun while he's in town. He and the skank are in Fiji."
The slight smirk that etches over his perfect lips taunts you. "So the house is yours?" He leans in, a little closer, closing the gap between you. "Until he comes back and banishes me again," You place a confident hand against his chest, pushing him away, "But for now, I'm here to party, and you should be too."
With that said you walk away from him, letting your hips sway with seduction radiating with each step. Rafe lets his thumb and fingers stroke over his jaw, feeling the weight of the pressure you'd just applied.
God, it was good to have you back.
The party raged on, slowly approaching its peak, body shots were going on at the bar, girls were doing lines in the bathrooms and the guys had insisted on a drunk game of volleyball in the pool.
Rafe took a break from the events of the party and watched from the sidelines on the couch, taking another hit of the vape that someone had passed to him, he's not sure he can remember who, and it wasn't relevant anyway.
The only person he had his sights set on is you. Watching you have the time of your life with your friends on the platform in the middle of the pool. Your little group, clearly intoxicated danced carefree while you'd begun to put your hands on the ground and throw your ass in circles.
Rafe choked, sitting up, some smoke coming through his nostrils at the interrupted airflow. He leaves his shirt behind on the couch with the abandoned vape, just as he heads for the pool topped hands him a beer which Rafe accepts before he gets in.
Maintaining a straight face as his body acclimatizes to the cool water he's almost immediately swarmed and roped into a round of whatever the current pool game was.
His icy gaze looks up to the center of the pool where you once were but are now nowhere to be found. "Looking for someone?" Your voice was mocking and he was grinning before he even turned around.
"I am actually." With little ripples in the water, he steps towards you maintaining a respectful distance that was driving you insane. "I was looking for someone to join me at the bar," He puts on a convincing facade but you roll your eyes, feigning innocence.
"Let me know if you find her," He slowly steps towards you and step back, "Don't play dumb with me, Y/n." Your plush lips form a gut-wrenching pout, "What do you mean?" Another step forward, another one back. The cycle repeats itself until he has you backed up against the edge of the pool.
Rafe’s hands find your waist, and before you can react, he’s lifting you effortlessly, placing you on the edge of the pool. You're reeling at the slutty display of his sheer strength.
Your legs dangle, brushing against his chest, and he steps closer, slotting himself right between them. His hands rest on either side of you, his arms framing you in as he looks up with that sly grin, every bit as teasing as you are.
“Always out here playin' games, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his voice low, a quiet rasp just for you. “Gotta say, I respect it—always sticking it to your old man, doing your own thing.” He leans in, his gaze drifting down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Not many people around here have the guts for that.”
You scoff lightly, though your heart skips as his gaze lingers on you, intense and challenging. “Oh, please,” you tease, rolling your eyes. “Since when do you care about any of this?”
A quiet laugh slips from him as his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles along your thigh. “You think I haven’t been paying attention to you all these years?” he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath warm against your neck.
“You might’ve been gone a while, but don't think I forgot all those nights we had our fun.” His words hang heavy between you as he pulls back slightly. Now his hand rests on your waist, his voice dropping lower.
He tilts his head, studying you with that familiar glint of mischief. “Now that you're back, I think we should relive some of our traditions, for old time's sake,” he says, leaning in until his lips brush against your jaw, light and teasing, close enough to make your pulse race. He pauses, his thumb skimming your cheek, his lips hovering just above yours, waiting. “But don’t act like you don’t want this as much as I do.”
Before you can snap back, his mouth claims yours, the kiss charged with all the years of pent-up tension and that all-too-familiar heat. His hands slide up to cradle your face as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him even closer. The kiss deepens, and when he finally pulls back just enough to catch his breath, he watches you with a smug, knowing grin.
“There it is,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your lips, his thumb tracing your jaw as if memorizing every inch. “That look you get right before we make a mess of things. I knew it—you missed this just as much as I did.”
If only someone could recount how the two of found yourselves stumbling up the stairs towards your room, your soaked sheer cover-up left forgotten somewhere in the house after Rafe pulled it off of your frame.
"Shit-- Rafe," your teeth dug into the flesh of your bottom lip as you reached to open your bedroom door, horrified to see two other people had monopolized it. They hadn't even noticed the door was opened so you quickly closed it.
"What the fuck, I thought everyone knew my room was off limits." With a quick scan, you noticed items were hanging off almost all the guest rooms in the hall letting others know the room was occupied.
"Shit, there's nowhere else to go in here?" You think quickly on your feet before rushing off to get something before returning with a key in your grip.
Rafe pulls you close with a smirk as you clutch the key to your father’s room, the gleam in your eyes daring him to follow. “Breaking all the rules tonight, aren’t we?” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with approval. His hand slips around your waist as you unlock the door, both of you glancing down the hall to be sure no one’s watching.
You twist the handle and push open the door, and his hand slides down to squeeze your hip, pulling you against him. “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he whispers against your ear, his lips grazing your skin, sending a thrill down your spine.
Once inside, you barely have a chance to lock the door before he has you pressed up against it. His lips are on yours, urgent and fierce, his hands roaming over your body with possessive ease. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he breathes between kisses, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your waist as he lifts your top, letting it fall to the floor. “Thought I’d forgotten?” you tease.
Rafe just about growls, dipping down to kiss along your collarbone, his hands sliding lower as he backs you towards the bed. His fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms, tugging them down with a smirk that sends heat rushing through you.
Your heart races as you feel the cool, forbidden sheets beneath you, the thrill of defying every rule and having Rafe look at you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted. His hands slide up your thighs, lips trailing down your neck as he leans over you. “You know,” he murmurs, voice heavy with desire as he takes in the sight of you sprawled out before him, “I always knew you were trouble. Guess that’s why I can’t stay away.”
With a smirk, he leans in, his lips brushing over yours as his hands explore, both of you savouring the thrill of being tangled up in each other once again.
"Look at these perfect fuckin' tits." He curses, big hands cupping your breasts, kneading them and rolling your nipples between his index and thumb. Your back arches slightly with a gasp, chest pressing up into him and he laughs.
"Still so sensitive here, angel? Some things never change." He reminisces and you roll your eyes, "Fuck off, Rafe." With the blink of an eye, his much larger frame was caging you in from above, his bulging biceps giving him an erotic juxtaposition in comparison to your head.
Balancing himself on one arm he slinks his palm around the expanse of your throat with a weighted pressure. "Been gone so long you forgot your manners? Mm? That's fine, I'll be sure to fuck some sense back into you."
Your eyes flutter shut at his filthy words as you feel his hand move and begin to work you between your legs. "Your pussy's fuckin' soaked--shit." He hisses, gaze hungry and his body acts on his thoughts faster than you can register.
A particularly loud moan slips from you as you feel his tongue skillfully lap over your folds, splitting you open as the warmth of his tongue protrudes into your core. "Yes, fuck! Please, don't stop Rafe." You moan, one hand reaching down to hold him by the hair and it hits you that he'd shaved it all off.
You let out a frustrated gruff, both hands fisting the sheets while you're forced to feel the vibrations of his sick laugh running through you at your dramatics. Even the tip of his nose had been covered in your slick, your juices running down his chin as he ate you out like a man starved.
He wouldn't be surprised if they could hear you from outside, but he knows everyone is far too high, too drunk or both to hear you. It wasn't long before your legs were beginning to shake and came with his name falling from your lips over and over like a prayer.
Taking deep breaths to recover from debatedly the best orgasm you've ever experienced, Rafe walked over to the far wall, out of sight, doing something you couldn't see before returning.
Without speaking he scoops you up into his arms, bridal style, another shameless display of his strength but it would be a lie to say it didn't drive you crazy. "What-what are you doing?" Your questions are ignored until he approaches the bubbling hot tub.
A wicked smirk curls across his lips as he eases you onto your feet in the warm water, his hands lingering on your waist, keeping you close. He gazes at you with that knowing glint, the steam rising around you both.
“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” he murmurs, his eyes trailing down your figure, unapologetic. His fingers skim over your sides, sending a shiver through you that’s from anything but the water.
“Are you really just gonna stand there?” you call, feeling the thrill of his attention but wanting to turn the tables, your voice laced with playful challenge.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he chuckles, unfastening his swim trunks and letting them fall to the side with a carefree grin. “I plan on joining you,” he says, slipping into the water and closing the distance between you two with smooth, unhurried steps. You take a hard swallow at his size, you don't remember him being this big.
He was going to destroy you.
You raise an eyebrow, matching his smirk. “Pretty bold of you, Rafe,” you say, your voice teasing as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Just like old times, hmm?”
“Better than old times,” he murmurs, dipping his head so his lips graze your ear, his voice a low rumble. “Because now, nothing is stopping us.” He punctuates his sentence by pressing his body up against your back, elevating you a bit so your torso leans over the edge of the tub, granting him easy access to you.
"Fuck, can't believe your ass got even more fucking perfect since last time." His hand raises and comes back down with a loud spank that pulls a sinful moan from your throat. "Rafe, stop teasing." You whine, arching your back and pressing back against him.
His composure already weekend, he decided to let you get away with it this time before he lined up the swollen head of his thick cock with your entrance, "Better grab onto something." That's the last thing you hear before you're being impaled on his dick, your upper half immediately falls forward, and he stills, giving you a second.
You're breathless, it feels like his cock was taking up all the room in your lungs. Some water had splashed over the ledge but that was the least of your worries. Your mind was hazy and focused on Rafe's grunts that escaped him with every snap of his hips.
"Wish you could see how hot you look right now. The Sinclair wild child knows how to take big dick like a champ." His words run straight through you like electricity, fanning the flames of the burning heat that was beginning to form in your belly.
"Shit--This pussy was fuckin' made for me, y'know that?" You moan at his possessive statement. You can only nod, your body had gone limp long ago as he drilled into you. "R-rafe! I'm-" As if you weren't close enough, his fingers begin to rub over your clit aggressively and you jolt with a shriek.
"Oh- fuck, don't stop! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! Please, Rafe." You beg, over and over, arms hanging onto the edge of the tub for dear life as more water splashes around you.
"Wait for me, hold it until I say you can come." You're chewing your lip raw, desperately trying to hold yourself back as he wrecks you from the inside out, his moans getting more frequent, a little more airy and breathless as he tumbled toward his edge of pleasure.
"Cum with me, Angel." Your body spasms as you finish together and he leans his weight against your back, his laboured breathing fanning your ear as you come down from your high.
"Not bad, princess." You couldn't respond and Rafe took note of this, carefully holding you up with one final smug remark, "Hope I didn't wear out the queen of Kildare."
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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago
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omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!
EVERY INCH 2
2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader
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follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3
SERIES MASTERLIST
A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N. 
SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.
You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .
Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 
It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  
The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"
"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 
You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."
"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."
"What do you want?"
"I asked how you liked the movie." 
Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 
"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."
Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 
He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”
"wishful thinking," you reply. 
Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”
You’re not even going to argue. 
“How was your date?" 
"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.
"You didn't look interested.” 
"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.
"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”
You freeze. 
He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"
You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"
"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 
You scoff. 
". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"
"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."
"Pervert."
“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.
"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  
You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 
“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 
Are you that predictable?  
“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 
“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 
Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal
“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 
“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 
“Yeah, that’s it . . .”
You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 
He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.
You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 
"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 
He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?
“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 
"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 
You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 
“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 
You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 
“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 
“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”
“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.
“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 
“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”
You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 
—---
You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.
“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  
“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”
You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   
The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.
“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 
The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  
He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  
You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 
“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 
He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 
The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 
“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.
“Who are you?”
“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.
“What do you want?”
“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 
He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 
The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 
“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 
He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.
“Good girl,” he says.
His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 
------
Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.
“Now where’s my knife.”
“I don’t have it,” you claim. 
“I don’t believe you.” 
“What’s so special about it?”
“It’s mine.” 
“The cops have it.” 
“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”
You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 
He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.
NEXT: PART 3
--------------------------
Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.
Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.
Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹
@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.
Slasher master list
@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07
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quantum1mmortality · 5 hours ago
Note
i- i the Curly obsession has been sparked i-
Curly with reader on her period? can be sfw & nsfw; love your work ty <3
I'm going to cry I love writing period fics sm ❤️❤️❤️ also guys I wanted to let you know that the expected release date for my full length Curly slow burn is Christmas day, it might be done before that but I'm gonna put it off for Christmas as a gift ❤️
Tw/cw; Afab!reader, mentions of blood kinks, mentions of cunnilingus, normal nsfw stuff
Not proofread
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Sfw
Idc what you guys say this man knows what a period is and is going all out to make sure you feel comfortable.
If you were to text him while he's at work, saying you're on your period, he's dropping everything and showing up at your doorstep 30 minutes later with chocolates and ice cream in one hand and pads and tampons in the other.
He didn't know what brand of pads/tampons you preferred, so he got a variety of boxes and just hoped for the best.
If you get period cramps, Curly is going to have a bottle of Tylenol in his back pocket just to have on standby. He is NOT going to let you suffer 🙏🙏
I feel like he'd run warm baths each night for you, just to help you clean up a little bit before bed. Is this aftercare? Yeah. Yeah it is. IM the writer, I can write whatever I want, and I'm saying these baths ARE aftercare
You probably won't need heating pads if Curly is staying over. He's a human furnace and would be more than happy to cuddle you. Just tell him where you're hurting and his hands will be there.
Nsfw
If you think blood is going to scare this man away, you're dead wrong. Curly would literally preach, "a real man isn't afraid to get a little blood on his sword", you aren't turning him off by leaving a metallic taste in his mouth 😭
Speaking of which, yes, he'd still eat you out if you were on your period. Blood just doesn't weird him out, so practically everything would be the exact same as it would be otherwise.
Chat this is a hot take, but blood kink. I'm definitely NOT projecting, Curly has a slight blood kink.
I think that he just likes the sight of blood covering your inner thighs and his face after he eats you out. I'm not sure why he's into it, but he is.
Sex with Curly while on your period is mostly the same, but he would be a LOT more gentle. Which, doesn't really say much, since he's already very gentle with you.
His grip on you wouldn't be as tight as it usually is, his thrusts would be more slow and rough, but most importantly, he lets you top.
I've gone over this already, Curly is a switch that mostly tops. But, you're on your period, things must be rough for you, he knows that! So he lets you take control, get a little rough with him. You know what you need in those moments, so he'd rather you take control as opposed to him not giving you what you need.
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A/N; hhhhhhhhhhhh
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 10 months ago
Note
F***ing FINALLY!!! I've been looking for stuff with a Reader saving Dogday since he's been introduced and I've only got like, three so far-
And I want this Reader to be resourceful, using anything to patch Dogday up(including scraps of Miss Delight's dress)
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I hear your calls <3
...............
"You're wasting precious time, angel. Poppy needs you. I'm only gonna slow you down. Just leave me here, and tell her I'm-"
"You'll get to tell her that yourself, Dogday. Because I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna help you whether you like it or not."
With a huff, you used the grabpack to wheel in a cart filled with an assortment of items you picked up around the Playcare area: doll parts, plush felt, metal bars, and even Dogday's other missing leg, which you have miraculously found in the playhouse.
You did your best to stitch them back onto his body, although the real challenge was fixing them up first--considering how badly they got mangled by the smaller Smiling Critters. Through sheer luck, you were still able to recognize them as his legs.
And conveniently, you've retained some of your craftsmanship skills from your days working with Playtime Co.
You were given some praise for being able to speedily patch up broken and torn-up toys, but you've never touched upon any of the "Bigger Bodies" despite seeing similar injuries on them. They simply never gave you that clearance, and dealing with blood and organs (and possible death) was something way above your paygrade.
But with Dogday, you were able to apply similar techniques you used in doll repair. You made patches out of Miss Delight's polka-dot dress to cover up any tears, and you created small mechanisms to put inside his legs that would (hopefully) enable him to walk again.
It was like you were performing a surgical operation..
Except, well..that's exactly what was going on.
Despite your unwavering determination--and the fact that you succeeded in reattaching one leg to him so far--he insisted that you were only putting yourself at risk trying to help him.
Hell, you nearly got torn apart by those little Smiling Critters who chased you both down, being scared off by the flares you shot at them. He didn't think you'd have enough..but by the grace of god, you did. And you escaped and found a safe place where Kissy Missy and Poppy were also hiding out.
Not only did you finally get a breather, but also a chance to help one of the few toys left here who somehow didn't lose their humanity.
Even so, Dogday still feared for your safety.
"You know..this will only enrage Catnap, right?" He rasped, choking out a wet cough. "He'll know that I'm missing. And he'll know you have something to do with it.."
"Wait.." Pausing in your work, you glanced up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Why would he care about where you are? Or better yet..why would he keep you alive at all?"
"...because I was his favorite."
"Huh..?"
"Before the Prototype became his sole focus, we did everything together." He explained somberly. "We helped the others fall asleep, stayed out of trouble. Catnap and I..we were like day and night. Two peas in a pod. He brands me a heretic now, but...somehow, I don't believe he likes doing so. Maybe..he hasn't forgotten our friendship, after all."
'Well, stringing someone up by belts and ripping off half their body doesn't sound like something a good friend would do..' You thought to yourself, although you understood where he was coming from.
Yet it didn't change the fact you still wanted to kill that stupid purple cat. Especially after he gave you that hellish nightmare of Huggy crawling out of a television.
"I know you wanna believe there's still good in him, but..he's long gone." You shook your head. "Those critters..they tried crawling inside your body, and he was just gonna allow it all because you didn't wanna follow the Prototype's will."
"........"
Silence was your only reply, but you decided to shift your focus back on repairing the other leg. Dogday allowed you to work, no longer protesting as he instead looked at the stitches on his arms, feeling grateful yet unworthy at the same time.
Him and the others...they were all monsters. He never killed a single human in his existence (or at least none that he could recall), but he felt like he was just as terrible as those who did.
Eventually, you finished, and his ears perked up at your sigh of relief as you set down your tools and pushed the cart away. "There we go. Try to stand up, but take it slow. Okay?"
He nodded, feeling quite nervous as he looked at his legs, before he slowly pushed himself off the ground. For a few moments, he was able to stand, but he wobbled a little and had to hold onto the nearest wall so he didn't lose balance.
'When was the last time I had my legs? It's been so long...'
Then he felt your grabpack's hands gently steady him, and soon enough he could stand on his own without their support.
You smiled and retracted them. "How do you feel?"
"Much better...thank you, angel." Dogday looked down at you, the corners of his wide smile turning further upwards. "You truly are something divine. You've come to heal us, mend all of our broken pieces, even when we do not deserve such kindness. How could I ever repay you?"
Right as you were about to respond, you heard sounds of plush feet moving and turned around, seeing Kissy and Poppy entering the room.
You didn't really he'd nearly be as tall as Huggy's spouse.
"You fixed him! What can't you do?" The redhaired doll gasped in awe, hopping onto Kissy's hand before she was carefully transferred over to Dogday's paws, stepping into them.
He held her gently, smiling. "Poppy."
"It's so good to see you, my friend." She smiled, although it was quick to disappear. "I thought all of you were gone."
"It's just me now, and...I'm....I-I'm...." He began to sniffle, his voice breaking as the weight of everything that's happened came crashing down. "I'm so sorry...I tried so hard, but...I-I failed! I couldn't protect them!"
Thin streams of tears seeped from the corners of his eyes, darkening the fur along his cheeks. "Kickin'...B-Bobby..they all died because of me! I was supposed to be their leader, but all I did was lead them to their demise! I-I should have joined them in-"
"There, there..it's going to be alright." Poppy softly hushed him, patting his arm in comfort. "You did your best to protect them given the circumstances. I promise we'll have our chance to avenge them. But you must live, for their sake..and for [y/n]'s sake, too. They went through a lot to fix you up."
"I know but..I-I'm so scared. I don't wanna face him alone-"
"You won't be alone, because I'm gonna take care of him."
With another sniffle, Dogday looked down at you, feeling you gently petting his ear as another comforting gesture. Your eyes held nothing but sympathy and heartache for this poor creature. "I'm sorry, but we have to put him down. It's the only way we can move forward."
"Are you sure?" He mumbled. "He's gotten more powerful, and hungry-"
"So were Huggy and Mommy, but I saw how [y/n] dealt with them..and they're more than capable." Poppy remarked. "But now that Catnap's onto them, they'll need all the protection they can get."
"Then..I'll do my best to help." He finally declared, smiling at you.
You blinked, surprised that he was willing to stand up against the one who tortured him. But you simply nodded and smiled back, watching as he returned Poppy to Kissy, before he turned back to you and crouched down.
He enveloped you in a warm hug, the vanilla scent still seeping from his suit and helping you feel more at ease.
"Thank you, Dogday." You chuckled, hugging him back.
"No..thank you, my guardian angel. I will follow you to the ends of the earth."
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yeagersss · 3 months ago
Text
Sukuna x Reader where you have gained weight and Kuna cheers you up (in his own way)
Warnings: Just a bit suggestive at the end
You were standing in front of the mirror, eyes glued to your reflection. Your boyfriend, Sukuna, was staying over for the night and you were about to surprise him with his favorite red, lacy lingerie set.
But something was wrong.
You stared at the fat sticking out from your stomach, your thighs and your arms. Especially your stomach, that was rounder and jutting out. You raised one of your arms and noticed they were flabby.
The lingerie set that made you feel so sexy and was always your number one weapon to seduce your grumpy boyfriend, for the first time, was tight and you couldn't help but think it looked so unappealing on you.
Your mind was racing. You can't leave the room and surprise him like this. Maybe you could wear something else. Maybe surprise him in one of his shirts that were too big for you since he was a very very large man. But would you really be able to deal with him seeing your body when he takes it off--
"The hell are you doing, woman?"
You jumped and turned to see Sukuna leaning against the door frame. A scowl etched on his face. His arm crossed against his broad chest as he raked his deep red eyes across your body.
You couldn't help but cover yourself with your arms. "The hell are you doing, Kuna? I was supposed to surprise you!"
"Surprise me? You were gone long enough for me to think you were fucking dead or something."
You huffed and your eyes gleamed with stubbornness. "So I was taking my sweet time. Big deal." You hugged yourself tighter. "And besides... This is too tight on me. I'm gonna wear something else. I.. might have to put this set away for a while." You said, trying to keep it cool and pretend like you weren't so upset and feeling self conscious under your boyfriend's gaze.
But Sukuna stayed quiet. His narrowed eyes boring into you. He was a very perceptive man and he knows when you're upset even when you try to hide it.
With his hands shoved in his pocket, he walked closer to you until he was a few inches away. The way his tall, muscular and oh so sexy body towered over you. The way he looked down at you with a stern gaze made you shiver.
"Hand." He ordered.
You blinked in confusion at his request. He simply clicked his tongue in irritation.
The next thing you knew, his large hand shot out to grab your wrist. He pulled you closer.
And placed your hand straight to his crotch where his dick was hard and pulsing.
Your eyes widened and your face turned a scarlet hue. You quickly averted your gaze from him but his other hand shot out to roughly grab your chin and turn your face back to him.
"Look at me." He growled, his eyes reflecting a mixture of irritation, anger and lust. "If you think something as insignificant as the fat on your body is going to make me not want to fuck you, you are completely mistaken. And you want to wear something else? Like hell you're going to do that. You will keep wearing this until I get bore of it." His voice was low and threatening.
"K-Kuna..." You whispered, eyes glistening with tears and your heart warm.
"Don't you dare fucking cry, brat. Get on the bed already. I ought to punish you for even thinking these stupid thoughts."
You didn't even get to say anything as he picked you up and threw you on your bed. Needlessly to say, you couldn't walk at all the next day.
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talaok · 2 months ago
Text
Acting Normal
Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader
Summary: Javi’s been thinking about that night every minute of every day, while you're acting like it never even happened, and if he doesn't do something about it, he's gonna lose his mind.
warnings: smut| fingering, protected p in v sex, dirty talk, javi being a simp, sex in the workplace, (it's not public but there's a possibility of getting caught)
a/n: I already know what to write for part 3, this couple is my new obsession lol
This is a part 2 to this story, but it can be read alone
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Javi
This was really important stuff
He was really supposed to be listening
He was paid to listen to it,
that's what he kept repeating himself,
and yet- yet if someone asked him to repeat whatever Carillo was saying, he couldn't have spit out one singular word.
But it wasn't his fault, not really.
You must have been doing it on purpose, there was no way you were doing all that just accidentally.
Your lips were wrapped around the lollipop in a way that left nothing to the imagination- he could feel those lips on him, he knew how soft and sweet they were from kissing them, but around him... oh they would feel even sweeter, he was sure-
"If you're not gonna listen to me then why am I even here?"
It took Javier much too long to realize what Carillo had said
"I'm listening" he stated with enough confidence to fool anyone- except he was talking to one of the few people that could see right through his bullshit.
"I'm surprised you haven't done it yet" the Colonel shook his head, blowing out a cloud of smoke "I thought she would have given in by now"
"I don't know what you're talking about"
Carillo couldn't help but laugh.
"You've been obsessed with her since she first arrived"
Javier hadn't even noticed that his gaze was back on you... or that his colleague had spoken again.
"yeah," Carillo chuckled, patting Javi's back "I'll just talk to Murphy"
And that was that, Carillo was gone, and Peña was left at a desk at the corner of the room, staring at you with the intensity with which a lion watches a gazelle.
He didn't know what the fuck to do.
To be completely honest with himself, he'd made a fucking mess.
He'd always been attracted to you, I mean there's not much of you that any man could find not hot, and sure, he'd spent about a year flirting with you as you rolled your eyes at him... but that's just how he was- he never thought it'd ever actually happen- and now...
Now he was fucked
You seemed so incredibly normal around him, like that night a week ago had been just a perfect dream, while him- fuck he couldn't even look at you without picturing how perfect you looked from between your tighs.
He'd thought he could manage to just do it that one time, to get it out of his system... what a stupid fucking bastard- he'd only made everything ten times worse.
And the worst part was that you didn't seem affected by it, not even a little bit- like now, there you were, looking all concentrated and everything, your brows furrowed, your bare legs crossed, one of them swinging ever so often, and your lips... your lips wrapped around the candy were an image sent straight from heaven.
Fuck- he was half fucking hard just by looking at you.
He needed to do something- now- or he was gonna go fucking crazy.
__ __ __
"can I have a talk with you for a moment?"
He was leaning over your desk, not doing a great job of masking his desire.
You, on the other hand, hadn't even looked up from the paper before you.
"what's up?"
what's up?
He'd made you squirt on your boss' desk for fuck's sake, and you tell him what's up??
"Just something I think you could help me out with, in the evidence room"
"now?" you winced, finally looking at him
"Yeah now"
__ __ __
"so what is it? did they misplace a file again-"
"How are you acting so normal?"
A gasp fled your mouth as you turned around and found him but an inch from you
"Jesus" you breathed "what are you talking about?"
"and who even eats lollipops past the age of five?"
He took a step closer and you took a step back, only for your back to hit the wall.
He'd cornered you.
"what is going on with you?" you hissed, only for him to take another slow step, and place his hand on the wall, right next to your head
"you, that's what's going on with me" his breath was fanning over your mouth, images of last week's night flashing both your minds "I've had the best sex of my life with you, and you're acting like it was just another Tuesday night"
"I-"
"I can still taste you on my tongue, I can still feel you around me, and you look at me like I'm nothing more than a fucking colleague y/n"
"Javier-"
"And then" he chuckled darkly, interrupting you once again "and then you have the nerve to suck on a fucking lollipop right in front me-"
A soft laugh couldn't help but bubble up your throat at that.
"Did that seriously... turn you on?"
"So what if it did?" he purred, his left hand finding your waist and forcing you off the wall and flush against him, against the blatant proof of his arousal.
You gasped, your hands clutching the shirt covering his chest.
"you're worse than a hormonal teenager"
His eyes sparked with malice as he bent down, his mouth skimming your mouth and cheeks, leaving shivers in his passage, until he pressed his lips right below your ear.
"A hormonal teen that made you squirt for the first time in your life"
"Javier-" your voice had already reduced to a thread of a whimper.
Fuck him and his irresistible sex appeal.
He was right, no one had ever made you feel as good as he had, and as much as he thought you weren't affected by that knowledge, he'd be shocked to find out how difficult it proved not to squirm every time he merely looked at you.
Yes, of course you were constantly thinking about that night too.
"Tell me you don't think about it"
He was like a mind reader
You stayed silent, conscious that any response you could give would inevitably give you away.
"That's what I thought" A snicker rumbled from his chest, his hand moving from your waist to slide underneath the hem of your skirt.
You hummed, your brain only half functioning as he continued to trail hot wet kisses down your throat.
"W-what are you doing?" you tried to speak normally without success.
"what does it look like I'm doing?" he smirked, his hand now fully cupping your clothed core, making you whine "What I've been thinking of doing for a whole damn week- so I don't lose my mind"
Two of his fingers were circling the wet spot on your panties when a phone rang from the other room, making your eyes snap open.
What the fuck were you doing?
You were at work- anyone could come in at any moment.
"Javier wait," you said, finally getting your voice back to normal.
"what is it, sweetheart?" from the way his eyes were still a thousand shades darker and blatantly staring at your mouth you could have guessed the danger of being caught didn't trouble him one bit.
"We can't"
He groaned frustratedly then, his head falling between your neck and shoulder
"why not sweetheart?"
"are you serious?" a quick laugh bubbled up your throat "we're at work"
"so?"
"so?" you parroted, only your voice was heightening with exasperation "so anyone could catch us at any given moment"
A soft smirk pulled at his lips, the hand that was still on your wall going to your waist to get you flush against him
"Are you ashamed of me sweetheart?" he teased
"Well, to be completely honest having sex with the biggest slut in Columbia isn't exactly my highest moment"
He feigned a gasp, his hot breath fanning over your own parted mouth
"Me? A slut?"
"yeah, you" You couldn't fight the smile pulling at your lips.
There he was, doing it again- making all your common sense fly out the window with his godforsaken charm.
"c'mon baby, I'll be quick"
And although you didn't want to, you could see yourself starting to consider his proposal.
"that's supposed to convince me?" you arched a brow, an amused smile pulling at your lips
"What, you think I can't make you come quickly?" he purred, his hand going to your ass in a swift move to grab at it.
You bit down a whine "Well I don't know"
"tell me you don't want it" he teased, the fingers on your core starting a torturous path up and down your still-clothed, but unbelievably drenched, slit "That you don't want this"
His fingers had trespassed your panties and had now found your raw skin, making you gasp
"anyone could come in us, including Messina" you added breathlessly
"I locked the door" he promised, his forehead on yours as his ring and middle finger gently found their way inside of you.
"a-and what if someone needs to get in?" you tried your best not to moan, but the way he curled his fingers made it so very fucking difficult
"then we'll tell them to fuck off" he murmured, his mouth now touching yours, but still not kissing you.
"If we get caught I'm gonna kill you, we clear?"
"yes ma'am" he smirked, his breath mixing with yours
"now- may I kiss you, baby?"
You rolled your eyes before answering "Yes, you may"
And just like that, he was devouring you, his lips crashing with yours and his tongue sliding into your mouth to explore every inch of it, gaining dominance on your own in a matter of seconds.
"fuck I missed this" he groaned, his fingers suddenly speeding up and robbing you of all ability to tease him about his words "these fucking lips are gonna be the death of me"
Your mouth was open as you desperately tried to get oxygen to your lungs, but he didn't care, he took your bottom lip into his mouth and started sucking, his fingers fastening their pace as the filthy sound of your wetness bounced off the walls of the room.
"tell me you thought about it too" he growled, his palm making contact with your clit and forcing you to gasp as your hips started grinding onto it, onto his hand, sparks of pleasure staining your vision. "tell me I'm not the only crazy one baby"
You bit your lip to stifle a moan as you felt yourself grow closer to a release.
"shit- you look so fucking hot when you're about to come"
"I-" your eyes were squeezed shut, but you could feel the heat of his stare on you, the way his eyes never left you, not even as he kissed your neck, the soft stubble of his mustache tickling your skin "I've thought about it too javi"
The satisfied groan he let out told you just about everything you needed to know.
"When?" he asked, his voice hoarse, his fingers relentless
"A-always" you whimpered, "e-everytime I look at you"
shit- maybe you shouldn't have said that
"yeah?" a wolfish grin tugged at his lips "You think about me? about my cock? my fingers? my tongue?"
You mewled at his words, at the memory they brought with them, at how fucking good he was making you feel-
"J-Javi please"
"what?" he breathed, his mouth on yours again, your hips grinding shamelessly onto his hand "You're gonna come baby, 's that it?"
"y-yeah- fuck- I-"
he knew the signs by now, he knew those desperate breathless sounds you made just as you reached your peak- and god did he fucking love them
"come for me- come baby" he murmured, his lips crushing with yours to stifle your moans just as your walls spasmed around his digits- wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body.
Oh how he loved seeing the strong fiery woman he saw every day come apart beneath him, all your walls crumbling down 'till there was just pure lust and pleasure beneath your eyes, 'till your body went limp and clung to him for support.
"fuck" you breathed your eyes finally opening again, only to find that his had never left yours. "I-" you gulped, but his lips were on yours again, his hands holding your face on each side, his fingers now out of you.
"w-we should get back," you said, mostly trying to remind yourself, of where you really were, of what you were really doing... but it was all so difficult when he was looking at you like that- when you could feel his hard cock straining against his jeans- the same one that had felt so fucking good inside of you.
"we should" he agreed, although a twisted grin played on his lips.
he was already kissing you again, exploring you again, and in no time you found yourself caged between him and a shelf filled with boxes of evidence, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck.
Damn him
"People are gonna start wondering where we are"
"we're here... looking at evidence," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his hips grinding onto you, his mouth on the corner of your lips.
"fuck- fine," you murmured, the need for him stronger than anything at this point, even than the fear of getting fired.
He didn't waste a second- his dick was out in a heartbeat, and your panties were pulled to the side before you had even time to breathe.
His tip, his red, glistening tip found your entrance, making you gasp.
"c-condom" you suddenly remembered, your voice so feeble it was almost inaudible "Please tell me you've got a condom"
"fuck- you're right" he muttered, frustration tracing his tone "I should have one in my wallet"
Of course he had one in his wallet
His left hand reached into his back pocket, finding his wallet and taking the condom out of it as quickly as he could, throwing the wallet somewhere to the side.
You were supporting yourself all on your own as he rolled the condom onto his dick, which might sound easy... but seeing the state of your leg it really was a miracle.
It was all so fast, he seemed desperate as he guided his tip to your entrance, as he gripped your waist and kissed your lips while entering you.
He was so fucking big, definitely the biggest one you'd ever encountered, and not only that... but he fucking knew how to use it too.
It was impossible not to moan, and for him, it was impossible not to groan- let's just say the possibility of getting caught wasn't first on the list of things in your mind at the moment.
"fuckfuckfuck" you whimpered, letting out a soft cry when he finally bottomed out
"Jesus Christ you feel fucking perfect" he growled, his eyes on yours, his hands gripping your waist as he tried his best to give you a moment to adjust and not start to fuck you like an animal right away.
"J-Javi"
And that, that little plead in your voice was all he needed to hear.
There was no way the sound of your skin slapping with his couldn't be heard from outside.
He felt so fucking good- criminally so.
"oh my g-" you had to bite down on something, and the little sliver of skin his shirt didn't cover right where his shoulder met his neck seemed much too perfect for your need.
He groaned, the bastard fucking groaned in pleasure as your teeth sank down into his skin, and you swore to god you could have come from that sound alone.
Your hands were laced between his neck, fingers taking hold of whatever hair you could grab, as he thrust up into you like a man starved, and you did all you could to meet his movements with the same urgency.
It had only been a week, and yet it felt like it'd been an eternity- a torturous, awful eternity of daying yourself of this.
"been thinking about this every fucking minute this week" his voice was breathy, hoarse, as he whispered to your ear "about this perfect fucking pussy of yours- about your mouth, about how- Fuck me-" his own growl interrupted him, your walls were squeezing him much too fucking tight "how good you taste, how hot you look when I'm eating you out- about this fucking perfect body of yours" he purred "Jesus christ you make me lose my mind"
You couldn't help but moan, moan at his words, at his pace, at the way his touch sent sparks flying in your belly- it was all too much.
"You've gotta be quiet baby" he murmured as you raised your head to look at him, to beg him for something- anything.
"I know sweetheart, I know" he breathed, his lips skimming yours "I know issa lot"
And to think you couldn't even stand him seven days ago... look at you now- looking into his eyes pleadingly as he fucked you in the evidence room.
"Javi" you could only breathe as his mouth crashed with yours once again, "I'm gonna-"
"I know"
Of course he knew
And just like that, you were over the edge, his tongue in your mouth muffling your cries as his thrust got more erratic, and somehow even more powerful.
Once again, he'd given you the best orgasm of your life.
He tried to hold off to let you ride it out, but fuck him it was proving to be real fucking difficult.
And then you opened your eyes- your beautiful, dreamy, eyes that he'd been dreaming of for days and there was no point in fighting it anymore-
"F-fuck y/n- fuck-"
There was a loud thud somewhere behind you, but neither of you cared enough to look, or god forbid stop- there was only you, you, and the spectacular groan Javier fed you into a kiss as he finally reached his climax.
There was only the sound of your breathing, both your heavy breathings as you looked at each other- and then you smiled, and he couldn't help but do the same.
And then all of the sudden the sounds from the office started flowing into the room again.
Oh right
"we really have to get back"
"yeah" he halfheartedly agreed, slowly setting you back on your feet, only in doing so, something caught your eye.
"fuck"
There were files on the floor- there were files on the floor because you'd knocked down some of the boxes of evidence- and you hadn't even noticed.
Javier followed your line of sight, but while panic was setting in your heart, he began to smile
"don't laugh!" you hissed, "what the fuck do we do? How do we explain this?"
"we don't" he simply shrugged, closing his zipper back up as you quickly tried to make yourself presentable.
"What?"
"we were never here- now, get back out there"
"I-"
"trust me" he said, retrieving his wallet from the floor.
And for some fucking reason, you did- you trusted him.
"I hate you so much" you muttered, finally exiting the room.
Tg:@fallout-girl219
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heich0e · 7 months ago
Text
keishin finally (finally) gets you into bed with him—well, onto couch with him, in his little one-room apartment in the back of sakanoshita mart—and he thinks all his prayers have finally been answered. thinks he's found some sort of cosmic apology for every misfortune he's ever suffered in how soft your lips are against his and how sweet you taste.
he knows he doesn't deserve this; that he hasn't done anything in his unremarkable life to merit how good you feel underneath his hands, or how dizzying those little noises you're making when he touches you are. but, against all odds, you're really here, you really want him, and he's determined not to fuck this up.
"keishin."
every time you say his name he feels like he's hearing it for the first time. like he's being blessed by it. it takes him a moment to process the way you've called for his attention as he suckles a little bruise against your throat, using every modicum of will he has left in him to pull away and meet your gaze.
you look so good underneath him on his ugly, ancient couch that it makes him ache. your lips glossy and swollen, your eyes heavy-lidded and yearning. you reach up and touch his cheek, and he can't tell if your hand is cool or his face is burning.
"do you have a condom?"
and all at once keishin comes crashing—violently, disastrously, crushingly—back to earth.
he blinks at you, wide-eyed, in the wake of your question. you seem to understand his answer even though he can't bring himself to say it.
"are there any in the shop?" you ask him, optimistic and gentle, with an encouraging smile.
keishin perks up—visibly brightening at your moment of genius—but as quickly as the hope uplifts him, he's deflating again. he pinches his bottom lip between his teeth.
"we're out right now," he murmurs sheepishly, suddenly unable to meet your gaze.
he only keeps a couple of boxes of condoms behind the counter at a time, since so few people ever come in asking for them. last week takinoue had showed up half-hammered two hours after closing, and banged on the shop door until keishin grumpily answered it. his drunk friend went on to explain that he'd gone out drinking with his colleague from work and she'd invited him home with her, but he desperately needed condoms. keishin chucked the last box at his stupid face, and yusuke swore up and down their next night out drinking would be his treat before skittering off into the night again with a grin from ear to ear.
he was going to kill yusuke with his bare hands the next time he saw him.
"keishin, it's okay," you say with a light laugh at the positively crestfallen look on his face. "we don't have to—"
"no!" keishin interrupts you before you can say the words he just cant bear to hear. not right now. not from you.
even if you promise him that this could happen again another time—that you don't have to go all the way tonight, that there will be other opportunities—he has no way of knowing if that's true. no way of guaranteeing it.
he's got a taste for you now. he knows what you sound like. he knows how you feel.
and he refuses to let this opportunity pass him by.
keishin pulls himself upright so quickly from where he'd been hovering overtop of you on his lumpy sofa that he almost gives himself whiplash. he stumbles up to his feet, brushing his bleached hair back from his eyes—he's not sure where or when he'd lost his hairband, but the strands are hanging freely now and falling into his gaze. he grabs his jacket from the floor where he'd hastily shucked it when the two of you stumbled through the door in the throes of passion.
"I'm just gonna run to shimada mart!" he says to you as he stuffs his arms ungracefully into the sleeves of his jacket, his words so frantic they're almost bleeding together. "it's only about 10 minutes away, if you just wait right here—"
"keishin."
"shouldn't be longer than 25 minutes! 20, even! i might even be able to get macchan to drive me back if—"
"keishin, wait."
your laughter makes him stop dead in his tracks, halfway to the door. he's only got one slide on his foot, the other still sock-clad, and in his haste he realizes he'd grabbed his television remote instead of his cellphone to shove into his coat pocket.
you've caught him by the sleeve of his jacket, holding the material pinched between your thumb and forefinger as you stare up at him from the sofa with the sweetest smile on your face. he's frozen as he peers down at you, his lips parted, his dick still half-hard in his jeans.
"don't go," you say to him, tugging him back towards you by your grip on his cuff. he moves easily, gravitating back into your orbit in spite of how gentle the actual pull had been.
"b-but,"—keishin casts a forlorn glance back in the direction of his apartment door—"what about the condoms?"
his voice cracks a little on the question and he has genuinely never wished so ardently for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
you release his sleeve in favour of twining your fingers with his now that he's near to you again, your soft hand slipping easily into his own. that same dull ache in the pit of his core (and between his legs) throbs again as you blink up at him.
"i've been trying to tell you," you begin, a bit exasperated but not without its own fondness. you hesitate a little, looking away shyly before adding, "we don't... need one."
keishin thinks he might die.
really, genuinely die.
he wonders if maybe this is what the old man felt like when he almost keeled over from that heart attack last year, because keishin's pulse is pounding so violently in his head he feels like his vision is going a bit spotty around the edges—like when you stand up too fast after a night of drinking.
he's brought back to the moment as your hand squeezes his own—a gentle, questioning gesture.
your lashes flutter as you blink up at him, your head tilting slightly to the side. you smile a little at the dumbfounded look on his face.
"...if that's okay with you?"
(keishin pays for takinoue's drinks for the next six months, but never explains why.)
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