#start dash dance cover

[naturesapphic]

Billie’s Passenger Princess

Billie eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, fingering, oral, arm biting, tongue sucking, belt riding, dominant Billie, sub reader

A/n: 1585 words bro. I worked hard asf on this. THIS TOOK ME AN HOUR YALL BETTER LIKE, COMMENT, REPOST ANYTHING please 🤭🥺

The sun was setting when you and Billie were out driving. Y’all just came back from dinner and the both of you were just driving around deciding to wait before going home. Billie was dancing around in the drivers seat while you were singing along with her, dancing along with her. You were wearing a cute little light blue sundress while Billie had on a baggy white t-shirt, baggy pants along with her favorite black and white cap that she always wears.

The song changed to a slower and more sensual type song and you knew it started to affect billie and yourself. Billies hand went over to your leg and made its way up to your soft plush thighs she loves so much. You blush and look over to see billie driving with one hand and using her knee to help. She stopped at a stop light and looked over at you with her sunglasses on, looking up and down at you. You saw her bite her bottom lip and slowly have her hand go up into your inner thigh.

“You’re so pretty mamas…” she rasped out as the light turned and she hit on the gas to go. You felt your face blush at the nickname and compliment she gave you. Her hand went higher as her fingers started playing with your lace panties, letting her hand go inside and start playing with your clit. You gasped at the feeling of her ring covered fingers rubbing your pussy and you threw your head back at the pleasure. “Take these off for me mamas..” billie demanded softly and you quickly obeyed her by reaching down and removing your now ruined underwear. You threw them in the back seat and Billies hand quickly went back to where they were.

“Can you put your legs up to your chest and have your seat lay back some princess?” Billie asked you as she keeps her eyes on the road, occasionally letting her knee take control of the wheel from time to time. You do what Billie says and put your knees up to your chest, revealing your bare soaking wet pussy to your girlfriend who was drooling at this point. You also let the seat back some to give Billie some room to do whatever she wanted to you. Billie put her arm back over to you and started rubbing on your pussy again which made you start biting on your bottom lip harshly. “Mmm…you feel so good babygirl…so wet and warm…” billie commented and you felt your face heat up again. “Please b-billie…” you begged her, you weren’t sure what but you just needed her to do something.

Billie chuckled and inserted her index finger into your pulsating hole, your walls instantly swallowing her finger. Your girlfriend bit her lip and added another finger, her fingers going deeper and deeper. You grabbed onto her arm and moaned into it, slightly nibbling on her skin to keep yourself from moaning loudly. You could hear how wet you were with billies fingers pounding into you and you got embarrassed on that but Billie seemed to love it. Billie added another fingers which in total were three fingers buried deep inside of you. She was finger fucking you like there was no tomorrow and soon your legs were shaking and you were biting onto her arm. “Come on baby. Cum for me. Cum all over my hand sweet girl.”

She said as you arched your back and let out a pornographic moan as you cummed all over her hand but it didn’t stop there. You started squirting and did it all over her hand and on the dash board of her car. Billie wasn’t even mad that your juices were all over her car, in fact, she was mesmerized. She pulled her fingers out of you and put them in her mouth, moaning instantly at your sweet taste. You sat there breathing heavily and trying to compose yourself while Billie was happily sucking on her fingers. “Fuck. You taste so good. I need more.” She stated and pulled over to a deserted parking lot where the only light there was was dimly lit street lamps. Billie put dragon in park and laid her seat all the way back. “Sit on my face baby.”

She demanded and you felt your eyes widen at her. “W-what? Baby we are in public!” You said as you nervously looked around. “Baby…you weren’t worried about that when I was pounding my fingers into you.” She said bluntly and you blushed at that, realizing that she was right, plus she parked in a abandoned parking lot, no one is here, it’s completely dead silent and no signs of life anywhere. You shakily went over and sat on her stomach and billies hand immediately went to your hips. Billie licked her lips and helped you sit on her face and when your soaking pussy was on her mouth, she dived in. She took your clit between her lips and starting sucking the life out of it. You moaned out and leaned forward a bit, covering billies face with your dress. “F-fuck..!” You moaned as Billie was nibbling, bitting, flicking her tongue, and sucking on your clit like it was the best lollipop in the world.

She then guided her tongue further down until it was at your pulsating hole and plunged it in, making you yell out at the sensation. Billie licked all in your velvet walls and can feel it pulsating which made her smirk as you grab onto her hair since her hat fell off a while ago. You rode her face as her hands were massaging your ass like it was a stress toy. Her tongue went even deeper to where she was curling her tongue so she could hit your g-spot which she did successfully. Your thighs started to shake again like last time and Billie could feel your walls clenching around her tongue so she had to use her jaw to really put the work in and make her precious girl cum. Not long after, her hard work paid off and you closed your eyes tightly as you came hard all in her mouth and all over her face.

Billie hummed in approval and used her warm tongue to clean you of your juices. You whimpered and tapped the top of her head a few times to get her to stop to which she immediately did and helped you off her face and onto her lap. “I love your tongue and your fingers. I just love you in general.” You said panting. Billie giggled at your words and held you close in her arms, her hands going down to your plump ass and starts to rub it gently. “I love you more mamas. And just know I’ll gladly make you cum anytime. Even in dragon.” She said winking at you which made you chuckle at her horniess. You stop laughing and look up in her ocean eyes and get lost in them until her plump glistening lips are hovering over yours. She places her lips on yours and deepens the kiss quickly making your head spin. You start to slowly grind on her black bulky belt and you felt her smirk into the kiss, slightly breaking it.

“Can you give me one more babygirl?” She asked and you nodded, fully starting to grind your pussy onto her belt. She grabbed onto your ass more and started to help your grind better on her. Billie took one of her hands off your ass and places it on your throat, slightly squeezing it and lifting it up to her face as she captures your lips in hers once again. You opened your mouth slightly to give her access to your mouth and she immediately gliding her tongue in, dominating you as always. You moaned louder when you were almost close to cumming and when she started sucking on your tongue, some salvia started coming out at the corner of y’all’s mouths and down yalls chins. Soon enough, you came hard on her belt and on her lap making her pull away from the kiss and lick her lips. “You made a mess on me everywhere today sweetheart but I wouldn’t want it any other way.” She said winking at you at the end making you hide your face in her plump chest.

She wiped her chin that was covered in your cum and salvia as she grabbed your face softly and started wiping away at your chin and mouth, causing you to break out into a smile at how thoughtful she was towards you. “I love you bils…” you whispered and she smiled as she pulls the seat belt over y’all and buckles it. “I love you more sweet girl. Go ahead and rest. It’s a thirty minute drive home and I know I exhausted you so go ahead and sleep. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” She said softly as she starts dragons engine and pulls out of the parking lot. You nodded against her chest and falls asleep on top of her while one hand is on the steering wheel while her other hand is busy running her fingers through your hair. You fell into a deep sleep on top of your loving sexy ass girlfriend.

A/n: this shit literally took me AN HOUR please repost, like, and comment. 🙏🏻 remember to stay hydrated and to rest. I love y’all :)

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 24]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 6.8k 🌶️

ao3 link

It is by some birthday miracle Minnie has yet to run out of energy.

Usually, once she has her bath and changes into her pajamas, she starts to wind down, but today is a special, exciting day, so she just keeps on going. 

It probably does not help that as part of her massive birthday haul, she got a new onesie pajama that makes her look like an oversized mouse - including big ears and a long tail. As soon as you finished zipping her in and pulled the hood up, your daughter went absolutely feral. She started scampering around on all fours - pretending she was indeed her namesake.

That was ten minutes ago, and you don’t think she’ll stop anytime soon. Especially not with Matt encouraging her. 

You watch from your spot on the couch as Minnie scurries over to the dining table, crawling under one of the chairs to hide. In the kitchen, Matt is dramatically pretending to look around while he holds up the butterfly net that came with a toy bug hunting kit. 

“Here, mousey, mousey, mousey,” he calls out in a low voice, which only serves to send Minnie into a fit of giggles. “Here, mousey, mousey, mousey.”

You, of course, play along and muse out, “I don’t know Mister Exterminator, this mouse may be too smart. I don’t know if you’ll be able to catch her.”

“You’re right,” he says, straightening up and he turns to face you. He rests the net on his shoulder, then taps at his chin with the index finger of his opposite hand, “I think we are going to have to set a trap.”

“A trap?” you question. You appear to keep your full attention on Matt, but in reality, you are sneaking a picture. Mouse is crouched in her hiding spot, hands covering her mouth. It takes everything in you to not start laughing.

“A trap, my Queen. We’re going to need some cheese, a stick, and a bucket.”

“I’m bigger than a bucket!” Minnie suddenly protests before realizing she’s given away where she is and clamps her hands back over her mouth. Matt whips around and starts towards her, raising his net with a mock menace.

“Gotcha!”

Minnie tries to dash towards you and the couch, but Matt, gently and with amazing precision, brings the net down on her head. Your little one instantly collapses to the floor like she has no bones. She reaches towards you, and with a performance worthy of an Oscar, declares, “Tell Scooby I loves him!” before falling over. 

You do your part by gasping as Matt scoops up her limp little body. He brings her over to you, presenting her with a slight kneel, “The Mouse Princess has been slain, my Queen.”

Minnie is trying her best to keep her eyes squeezed shut and suppress her giggles, so to make it even harder, you take on a blasé attitude, “Oh, how very sad. Now she can’t come to the super-secret dance party.”

Little eyes pop open and Matt sets her on her feet as she squirms back to life, “I wanna go to the super...super secret dance party!”

The Dance Party is your scheme to get the last of Minnie’s energy out. You do not want her to stay up too late past her bedtime, or she is going to be grumpy tomorrow. No one wants a grumpy toddler at the zoo. 

“You want to go to the super secret dance party?” Matt confirms, a large grin starting to form on his lips, and Minnie nods so hard her eared hood falls off. 

You go to fix it, fluffing the ears so they properly stand up, “What song should we play first, Mouse Princess?”

This is a hard decision, and as she thinks over her options, Mouse sticks her fingers into her mouth. This is a behavior you are beginning to think you should address, but you want to do more research and consult with Matt as well. You have been wondering if it helps her focus - her own way of limiting out the various inputs she must be constantly receiving. You think that maybe having her hand in her mouth helps to mask other smells, because you have noticed she doesn’t actually suck on them - they just are inserted - and it's something she does when she’s thinking.

Or it may be that she's a toddler and likes the taste of her fingers and you are once again overthinking everything. 

“R-B-S-T!” Minnie finally declares, throwing her hands up in the air. Matt looks absolutely baffled by the decision, but luckily, you speak Minnie, and know exactly what she wants. You grab your phone, open up your music app, and go to your daughter’s playlist to select the requested song. 

You get up as Aretha Franklin begins on the speakers.

This is one of Minnie’s favorite songs to sing and dance to, and yours as well. You have listened to it so many times you almost have little routine together. You begin to shimmy your shoulders at your daughter as she does the same to you, leaning forward and singing in sync.

“What you want. Baby, I got it! What you need, you know I got it!”

Matt lights up and it takes him less than a beat to jump into bopping along. It is one of those songs you think everyone knows the lyrics to, so you aren’t surprised when he joins in singing at Minnie. You quickly become a dancing circle, grooving together. Minnie stumbles over some words but her toddler heart is completely in it. She belts out the song, the biggest smile on her face as you mime some of what is being said.  

You continue to dance as the song changes to one that filled your childhood. You carefully curated the playlist to be free of any Disney Sing-a-longs or other toddler centric jams - these are strictly songs you actually enjoy that are safe for Minnie to listen to. You picked one-hit wonders and things that tend to fill the radio airwaves on a Friday night. 

The song is popular enough that Matt seems to know some of the words - or he is shamelessly making them up. You aren’t going to fact check him. You are too caught up in watching him dance - he’s completely thrown himself into it. He even has a little bounce in his step. 

His t-shirt is tight around his chest and when he raises his arms, his shirt rides up, showing off a belt of skin above his pajama pants. You can see the band of his boxers - a brand you aren’t aware of - and it makes your skin warm. You know you should not stare, but it is hard not to.

Especially when he does a spin.

Your eyes drop down to his behind and you feel like an absolute pervert ogling him. How does he manage to choose clothes that emphasize how wonderfully fit he is while still looking so casual? 

You tear yourself away from his perfect physique and try to enjoy the playtime with your daughter. You need to wear her out, which means you need to be more enthusiastic with your dancing.

You have found a strange upside to Matt being Blind and that is you are more comfortable acting a bit of a fool around him. He isn’t going to stop and stare at you for doing something silly for Minnie and the idea that he can’t perceive you in that way is doing wonders for your anxiety. You are very much aware that he knows what you are doing because of those amazing senses of his but you don’t feel judged in the way you do if you know someone is seeing you. It is probably Ableist in some way, but you like being able to relax more around him. 

You don’t need to hide who you are or pretend to be someone you are not. 

You begin to move your hips, swirling them as you throw your hands up into the air. You get a full body motion going, quickly adding in a few twirls. 

Mouse is quick to copy you, arms up, spinning, and rocking side to side. You slowly add in some arm pumps to get her little muscles really going. Matt seems to catch on to what you are trying to do, as he starts to add in some leg kicks to his dances, which Minnie instantly incorporates into her movements. Soon enough, she looks like she’s either in a mini mosh pit or - since she’s in a mouse costume - she’s a tiny kaiju trying to ravage an invisible town. 

You go through two more pop chart toppers before Minnie shows any signs of slowing down. As soon as you sense that her enthusiasm is dipping, you move onto step two of your devious plan.

“Do you want to dance with Daddy?”

The answer is obviously a yes. 

The Mouse Princess gets scooped up and set on Matt’s hip and he takes one of her small hands in his so he can guide her around in a dance. You let them have one bopping dance, where it is all energy and Minnie shimming like crazy before you sneakily switch the playlist. 

The next song has a beat to dance to, but it is nothing like the previous ones. Matt gradually slows so he is rocking in place, pretending to slow dance with his daughter. 

You stop at that point and stay on your phone, holding it up to record him mouthing the words to ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ while Minnie slowly starts to sink against his shoulder. You can’t help but sway to the music, a soft smile spreading across your face. 

You never thought you would get this - not just seeing Minnie’s father being so absolutely sweet with her, but having a family where these sorts of moments can happen. You didn’t think this was the type of life you would get to live. 

Instead of indifference, you are surrounded by love. It may not be love for you, but you get to soak it all in and enjoy how your daughter is absolutely spoiled. Matt is so clearly head over heels for her, wrapped around her little finger more than you are, and it seems like he is dragging his entire network along with him. 

His friends went hog wild in terms of getting gifts for your little toddler. Not only did Foggy give her the pogo stick, but she got all sorts of stickers from him and coloring books - and his Mom - who you really need to meet at this point - sent home baked cookies and Scooby Doo themed puzzles. Karen was not to be outdone, though, as she and Frank went the doll route. They entered your apartment with a two-story wooden Victorian style dollhouse that the Punisher apparently refurbished. They had full Princess themed furnishing to go with it and you can only imagine that poor Karen is going to be getting doll ads for months.

Sister Maggie sent along more practical things - some learning to read books. To your great surprise, all of the simple stories come with print lettering and Braille, and Minnie now also has a big letter board that has the same. You want her to learn the language and now she and Matt can read bedtime stories together. 

You still have trouble comprehending that all these people are in your daughter’s life now. It so effortlessly went from being just the two of you to an extended Family. 

And even Minnie is understanding that. 

While Foggy is Froggy and Sister Maggie is Daddy’s Mommy, Miss Karen has been officially upgraded to Auntie Karen. You do not know what triggered the change in title, but she was lording it over Foggy and Frank like it was a status symbol. 

You have promised to take so many pictures to send to them while you are at the zoo and the sheer idea that other people want the photos makes you giddy. You know you are going to end up printing some out to frame. You want to send something to Sister Maggie and you just know Matt will want one - or fifteen - for his desk. 

You are dragged from your thoughts when Minnie finally, finally yawns. 

You stop the music before it can go onto the next crooner and step towards your favorite pair, “Are you getting sleepy, baby?”

She nods against Matt’s shoulder before turning her head so she can use him as a pillow.

“Okay, let's get you into bed,” you coo. Luckily, she does not protest - she is completely petered out and you are not sure if she’ll even make it to the bed before she's in a deep sleep. 

The Dance Party was a complete success, and you decide it will be something to keep in your back pocket when Mouse is too active at night.

You follow Matt as he carries Minnie to the bedroom. He is still just barely swaying her in his arms still, tempting her closer and closer to Dreamland. 

You slip around him to get into the room first so you can make sure the sheets and covers are turned down. As the dead weight that is your daughter is slipped into bed, you turn on the air conditioner, so the room gets nice and cold. By the time you get back to Mouse’s side, Matt has gotten her sleep headband on and secured, and you can't tell if she's awake or not.

Apparently, she is still somewhat conscious, because Matt asks in the softest and sweetest voice, “Did you have a good birthday, my love?”

Minnie’s lips barely move as she mumbles out an, “uh-huh.”

“I'm glad. Mommy and Daddy love you very much. Sweet dreams, my little angel.”

He gives her a kiss to the cheek, then steps aside so that you can do the same. As you pull back, she weakly smacks her lips together and breathes out, “Luff.”

Your heart grows three sizes, and you truly feel like the Grinch when you have to pull Matt from the room. You know, if he could, he would stand there all night, standing dutifully by her side as she slept.

But Mouse Princess Minnie needs her rest, and you need help cleaning up the aftermath of the party. 

The dining table is covered in various arts and crafts projects. Minnie had practically run a little sweat shop with how she had multiple adults sat and focused on painting and building things with popsicle sticks and pipe cleaners. Luckily, everything is dry now and can be moved. You have a scrapbook you are going to put some pieces in, and others are going to be hung up around the apartment. 

You want to keep everything Minnie makes - you have no relics from your childhood, and you don't want that for her. You want to sit down with her when she's an adult and laugh together about how cute she was. 

As you start to clear the table, Matt begins to walk around the room, picking up any lingering trash. You've been good at cleaning throughout the day and not letting things sit, but you still had things like empty birthday bags and toy boxes out. You can see him snapping out of the corner of your eyes as he gathers things, and it makes you smile. You are always fascinated about how he navigates the world and using echolocation to clean isn’t something you would have thought possible.

“I didn't picture you as the dancing type,” he teases across the room as you sort arts and crafts.

“Oh, I am not,” is your instant reply and you can’t help but screw up your face at the idea of you being a dancer.

“Really? You seemed to know what you were doing.”

“Definitely not,” you insist. You feel yourself start to flush as Matt chuckles behind you.

“I think you are selling yourself short. I bet there were more eyes on you than you realized when you went dancing.” You know he is being sweet and trying to boost your ego, but you’ve never been out dancing. You didn’t even go to your prom. In fact, the last time you danced with someone who wasn’t Minnie was in middle school, at one of the in-school dance events.

That isn’t something you really want to admit, so you go with, “I don’t really go out dancing.” 

He gives the faintest of sighs from the living room, so you decide to try and humor him and add, “I don’t think I’d enjoy a club, but I always thought learning ballroom would be fun. Less people and..you know,” you motion up and for some reason twirl your hand, “less bass.”

“That does seem more your style,” he replies, and you heat up even more. You know he can’t see you, but you duck your head to try and hide how you must be blushing.

As always, when you feel yourself start to get flustered, your brain takes a backseat to your mouth. You muse out, “I always wanted to learn to slow dance.”

You instantly start to mentally berate yourself. You sound like a complete idiot - as far as you know there is no method to slow dancing beyond swaying. You equate things like waltzing and other partner dances with slow dancing - even though the terminology isn’t right.

“You’ve never slow danced?” 

He sounds surprised and you want to smother yourself with the artwork in your hands. You are digging a hole of pathetic-ness and you need to abandon this topic of conversation before Matt realizes how lame you truly are. To do this, you tell him, “I told you I’m not the dancing type.” 

Matt doesn’t respond, so you think you are in the clear. You don’t dare look over at him, instead keeping your focus on Minnie’s painting of Max you’ve just picked up. Her drawings are getting more and more defined - you can actually tell this is meant to be a dog as opposed to her usual circle-based creatures. You are so proud of her, and you can’t wait until she’s more comfortable with writing. You think her toddler handwriting is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Siri,” Matt suddenly says from right behind you, making you start with fright and drop the painting back to the table, “play ‘At Last’ by Etta James.”

You whirl around to find Matt impossibly close, holding his phone up to speak into it. You quickly start to shake your head, just barely chanting, “no, no, no, no,” at him.

“Getting that from your Music Playlist,” the phone traitorously replies before the song starts to play.  Matt reaches past you to set his phone down on the table, then that same hand goes to your waist.

You try to protest by saying his name, but he cuts you off, “Humor me.”

Your anxiety can’t fight that as much as you want to, so you very reluctantly let him pull you away from the table and towards the emptier area of the kitchen. You cannot look at him as he guides you into position - you can only stare at your feet and pray for the internet to cut out and turn off the music. 

But of course, that doesn’t happen. 

Matt slowly begins to sway, and you force yourself to awkwardly follow along. He must know how uncomfortable you are, as the thumb that is on your hip starts to rub in slow circles and he starts talking in a soft voice, “they never played a lot of music at St. Agnes’, but Father Lantom used to have a radio in his office. He’d have it going after hours, when he was doing paperwork or working on sermons. I would focus on it to help me sleep - they’d always play the same things over and over and it became like white noise to help dampen everything else. He used to hum along with this one.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to him and not the lyrics to the song. You don’t think you’ve heard him refer to this person before, but you are guessing this is the man who ran the Church Matt grew up in. 

“It’s a good song,” you mumble, trying your best to engage with him instead of being overwhelmed. 

“It is,” he agrees. He steps a breath closer to you then oh so gently, just barely touches his forehead to yours. All of your embarrassment evaporates, and you are very hyper aware of everywhere you and Matt are touching. Your throat tightens a fraction, and your heart begins to pound so loudly it drowns out the music. 

You want to apologize because you know Matt must be able to hear your heart becoming a drum and it must be annoying, but all you can do is sway in his arms. 

You feel his breath on your cheek when he asks in a whisper, “is this okay?” and you can’t do anything more than get your head to nod up and down once. His response, for some unknown reason, is to give a pleased hum. The noise is like lightning down your spine, making you shiver against him and instead of letting you go like you would expect, he becomes even closer. 

Your reaction is to curl your fingers tighter around him and you don’t understand why. Part of you wants to run and hide under your covers and never speak of this moment again, but another wants to stay like this forever, because despite your panic, isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?

To be held?

Even if it is a ruse. 

Matt is taking pity on you and dancing with you as a bit of a tease, but he’s not being cruel. You told him you don’t dance, so of course he wants to dance. You’ve seen the interaction in film and television plenty of times - Matt is a good man and wants you to have fun.

And you are, aren’t you? 

You’re having fun.

You had a wonderful day filled with laughter and joy, and now it is ending in a sweet moment. 

You can let yourself enjoy this. 

Matt breathes your name against your cheek and the lightning feeling is back, “you’re overthinking again.”

“I’m trying not to,” you promise him, because you truly are trying to tamper down your thoughts. It is just hard not to when your mind won’t stop spinning. 

“Do you want this?” he asks after a moment and you have no idea what he means, but honestly it doesn’t matter. Every fiber of your being screams the same thing as soon as the words leave him.

“Yes.”

The world comes to a sudden halt as Matthew Murdock’s lips press against yours. 

They are soft and warm and as sweet as you remember them being. They are hesitant, almost delicate, as they move against yours. A gentle hand comes up and cups your cheek and it snaps you back into reality. 

The dam inside you breaks and you do not think - you only act.

Your hands launch up to tangle into his short hair and you kiss Matt back with a hunger you did not know you had.

His reaction is instantaneous - within a moment you are backed against a countertop, and he is practically devouring you. He is groaning low in his throat, sounding almost animalistic, and the hand that was on your hip is now on the small on your back, keeping you pressed firmly against him. Gone is the sweet, innocent moment - you need him in a biblical way, and you think he feels the same. 

To your own surprise, it is you who pushes things further, biting at his lower lip. He opens himself easily for you and you reward this by licking into his mouth. 

He may have you pinned to the counter, but you do not feel trapped. You know if you showed any doubt about what was happening or indicated you wanted to stop - consciously or unconsciously - Matt would be across the room in a second. 

You don’t need to be scared with him - you know that now - and that only fuels your fire.

You need to be touched.

You need to be held. 

You need Matt to fuck you stupid.

And by the bulge starting to press into your hip, you think he is more than happy to do just that. 

Matt breaks the kiss, only to move his mouth down to your neck. He drags his tongue and teeth over the sensitive skin there causing obscene little noises to come out of you.

“Sound so good,” he growls into your throat and all sorts of heady reactions course through you. “Smell so fucking good. Drives me crazy.” He emphasizes his point by burying his nose into your pulse point before biting down. Your cunt clenches around nothing and you whimper out his name, but he isn’t done with his praise yet, continuing on between lapping at your skin, “Sit there so innocent and sweet, not knowing I want to bury my face between your legs. Can’t think when you get all flustered. Want my tongue on you at all times.”

His words wash over you, but you can’t contextualize what he is Actually saying. All you can hear is his current need and desire and you want his tongue on you as well. You know how well he can use it and your body craves him.

You don’t know how to tell him what you want beyond hiking your leg up to wrap around him and pressing your hips forward with a needy, “Please, Matt.”

It seems that is all he needs you to say. 

Like you weigh nothing, he lifts you up and sets you on the counter. You lean back to push your sleeping shorts and panties down and he is there to help, practically tearing them off your legs and sending them across the kitchen. As soon as that barrier is gone, Matt wastes not one second - he drops to his knees between your legs and drags you forward by your hips, throwing your thighs over his shoulders. 

Any shame you may have is gone the moment he drags his nose from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit and only then do you realize how absolutely soaked you are. 

He starts to mumble something under his breath, but you can’t hear him over how heavy you are breathing. The hot puffs of air against you are the worst type of tease and already making your muscles quake. To keep yourself from slipping, you place one hand on the counter, then use the other to grab onto Matt’s hair. You must grab too hard as he shudders under your fingers, but he keeps up his soft words.

He’s so close and you haven’t been touched in so so long that you cannot take this. 

“Matt, please,” you beg and again he shakes under your hand. 

“Amen,” you just barely hear before his voice raises just enough to be actually audible, “Don’t worry, my darling, I’ll take care of you, now.”

You nearly lose it when he finally puts his mouth on you. You are already worked up and so sensitive, that a few flicks of his tongue has you mewling. That only serves to encourage him, and he buries himself deeper into your core, moaning shamelessly like he is the one being pleasured. You grip tightly onto his hair to try to keep some composure, but you are already right on the edge. 

Your hips start to twitch, and your abdomen starts to tighten before you realize it. Your head rolls back as you start to chant Matt’s name in a pant, begging him to chase your incoming orgasm. 

He, of course, happily obeys. 

It is not mind shattering, but it has you rocking forward to curl around Matt’s head, your other hand coming around to claw at his shoulders as you come. He keeps his tongue working until your thighs stop quaking, then he pulls back. He grins up at you like he’s a kid in the lewdest candy store - his mouth and chin and glistening with your juices and it’s clear he couldn’t be prouder of himself.

“One,” he purrs out and you start to laugh a little from how cute he is in your giddy state. You remember in your night together all those years ago, he had also counted your orgasms. It didn’t come off as smug then and it definitely doesn’t now.

He effortlessly raises up to his feet and you let your legs fall from his shoulders to wrap around his waist instead. His hands glide down from your hips to your thighs before he tugs you forward so he's holding you up. He slowly starts to back away from the kitchen and you secure your hold on his shoulders, so you don’t slip as he carries you.

You can’t help but lean forward and kiss him. Your slick tastes tart on his lips, but you don’t care - especially when you can feel him melting into your touch. You keep things slow and languid as he brings you to the couch. You pull away as he gently lays you down, but not fully. Your hands drop to his stomach, and you tug at his shirt, “Off.”

“Yes, My Queen.”

He fluidly pulls it off before crawling over you and boxing your head in with his large arms. You loop yours around his neck again as he dips to kiss you again. 

The feral need inside of you has been temporarily satiated, so you can enjoy this slower exploration. Your hands smooth over his neck and back and you cannot believe how muscular he is. His suits do a good job to keep him looking lean so that you often forget how much raw power he holds. You feel like you could get lost in just touching him - tracing along his skin to feel each little freckle and scar. 

It seems like he could do the same for you. While keeping one arm down to keep himself held up over you, the other makes its way between you. His hand pushes up under your oversized t-shirt and up to your ribs. You aren’t very ticklish, but you still shudder and arch at his touch. He easily finds your breast and massages it a few times before pinching at your nipple. 

You gasp into his mouth, and as he begins to tweak and play with it, you have to turn your head away because you can’t keep up with his kissing.

“So sensitive,” he teases in a whisper. He nips at your ear before starting to make his way down your neck again. 

“Feels good,” you reply, trying to not whine, but you are pretty sure you fail. 

Matt hums in response before scooting down your body. You hook your legs around his waist as he pushes your shirt up to reveal your breasts, then watch as he bends to take one in his mouth. You close your eyes as he begins to suckle and pleasure washes through you. 

You bring a hand up to scratch lightly at the base of his skull as he starts to worship your chest. He is sure to make sure your other nipple isn’t neglected, pinching and flicking at it in time with his tongue. It doesn’t take long for your core to start pulsing and gushing again, but Matt stays focused on his task. He starts to alternate which breast gets the attention of his mouth versus his hand and soon enough you are thinking you can cum again just from this. 

You start to squirm and pant under him, but it is when you rock your hips into him that he changes course. 

You feel him move and adjust, but you don’t know how, as he never neglects you for a second. Once he is how he needs to be, the hand not already preoccupied slips between the two of you. He runs one finger over your slit, pushing between your labia to coat himself in you. You can’t help but moan at the teasing. 

But he doesn’t do it long - as soon as he’s slick, he pushes into you. 

His finger is thick, and the stretch feels perfect - it isn’t too much, but a little more might be too uncomfortable. He starts to pump his finger in time with his tongue and all you can do is lay there and take it. You are on the edge of being overwhelmed, but right in the state of bliss.

Praise starts to tumble from your mouth this time, as you keep up scratching at his neck and shoulders. 

“Feels so good. Already so close. Please, Matt. Need you.” 

Before you even realize you are ready for it, he pushes a second finger into you, and you are nearly seeing stars. You know his cock is big and you need the stretching, especially after so long, but part of you just wants him in you now. He’s always so sweet and he’s not going to hurt you in that way, so you know he’s going to make sure you are ready before fucking you. 

But you are still going to be needy about it. 

You start to roll your hips, wanting more and more and more. It takes you a few tries to match his pace, but once you do, the buildup is quick. You can feel it in your thighs first, tingling and spasming as your release gets closer. 

Matt releases your nipple from his mouth long enough to encourage you, “Cum for me, darling. Cum on my fingers.” 

He crooks his fingers as he latches back onto you and you white out. You shake and curl as your orgasm rocks you and Matt doesn’t let up at all. His fingers pump and work your way through it until you cannot take any more stimulus and you have to try and crawl away. He takes pity on you and pulls back and slides his fingers out. 

They instantly go into his mouth, and he licks them clean in the most obscene way possible. You watch him through half lidded eyes, admiring everything about his physique. 

Only once he’s finished his task do you reach for him. Your fingers skate from his chest down his abs until you can grab his boxers and pajama pants. You tug them down enough to free his cock and it is a thing of beauty. It’s thick with a slight curve and one pulsing vein running along it. The head is swollen and red and leaking pre-cum like a faucet. You wrap your fingers around the base and slowly stroke up. Matt’s head rolls back, his lips parting just slightly, and he looks like he is in absolute heaven. 

“Didn’t get to taste you last time,” you tease, and you are practically salivating at the idea of having him in your mouth. You want to return all the pleasure he's given you. He needs to be the one to lay back and enjoy your mouth on him.

He groans before rolling forward, so he is hovering over you again. “There will be time for that later, can’t wait for you any longer,” he says in a low voice, and despite his eyes not functioning as they should, you can see the hunger in them. 

You more than understand that and lean up to meet him in a kiss. Your hand is still wrapped around him, so you give a few pumps to smear his pre-cum, and as you do, he quietly swears.

“I don’t have a condom.”

The words hit you hard and your eager and horny mind of course throws out the first thing you think, “You already got me pregnant once with one.”

Matt’s nose flares at that and his cock twitches hard in your hand. He swallows thickly before asking, “Are you clean?”

“I am,” you promise. “I haven’t been with anyone since you. Are you?” He gives a jerky nod and when he does, you rub your thumb over his head, teasing the slit, “then I’m okay without one.”

He surges forward to crash into your lips, and you release your hold on him so that he can position himself. You tangle your fingers into his hair again, and to test a little theory, tug at it. He all but moans into your mouth and you can’t help but ask, “Do you like that?” 

“Yes,” is his instant reply. It’s his turn to tease when he rubs his cock over your needy cunt. “Bite me, scratch me, do anything you want to me. I’m yours.”

Then he pushes into you and all the thoughts and ideas in your head turn to dust. 

Even stretched out, there is still a slight burn, but it feels so wonderful. He starts with slow, shallow thrusts until he is fully inside you, only to settle for a moment. He noses down to your ear and nips at your lobe. He repeats, “I’m yours,” in a low growl before pulling out of you and slamming back in.

The pace he sets isn’t brutal, but it's clear he’s as eager and wanting as you. You drag him back into a kiss, biting at his lips as he gives you exactly what you want - what you need. One hand goes to your throat, wrapping around it but not squeezing. You respond by digging your nails into his shoulder. He hisses into your mouth, but you can tell he likes it by how he reacts.

His other hand grabs you by the hip and tilts your pelvis up so he can drive himself deeper into you. You gasp at the sudden change - his cock is hitting the perfect spot and with each stroke, you feel like you are going to lose your mind and Matt seems to know that. He begins to pepper bites and kisses along your shoulder, sending shocks of pleasure to your core with each one. 

Your anxiety is nowhere to be found, so there is nothing to hold you back from clawing at his shoulders and tugging at his hair. You guide him back to your neck, where his bites feel the best, and give breathy pleas. He digs his teeth into you as your third orgasm starts to build. 

The arm around his shoulder drops to the couch and you reach for the hand that is holding him up. He allows you to tangle your fingers together and you squeeze his hand as you clench your cunt around him. 

“I’m close,” you whimper, just as he starts to lap at your neck.

“Me too,” he pants in reply, “needed you so badly. Need you so badly.” He turns his head to press it hard against your shoulder, and asks the most ridiculous question you’ve ever heard, “do you want me to pull out?”

You shift so you can hook your leg around his waist and dig your heel into the small of his back in response while also tugging hard at his hair. 

“Fuck,” he moans into you, instantly starting to pick up his pace to the point the couch is starting to rock, “Yes, I won’t. Fuck.” He starts to chant your name in between swears and you try to use the leverage of your leg to rock your hips to meet his thrusts. 

You bite into his shoulder, so you do not cry out as your orgasm takes you by force. It feels like every muscle in your body tenses up and your hips twitch violently and euphoria rushes through you. Matt’s hips sputter once before he buries himself in you. 

You lose yourself for a few moments as you quite literally sink into bliss. Your leg relaxes around Matt, sliding down to keep around his thigh as you settle into the couch. He lets go of your hip to allow you to do that, but he follows you down, putting only some of his weight on you like a heavy, warm blanket. 

You lessen your grip on his hair so you can begin to give him light scritches and that makes him nuzzle into your neck with a pleased little noise. You return the noise, then use all the effort left in your body to turn your head to kiss his temple and squeeze his hand at the same time. 

“Stay like this,” you request. Your eyes are getting heavy, and you don’t fight to keep them open.

“Anything for you, My Queen,” he replies, sounding just as gone as you feel. You manage a chuckle and another kiss to his hairline.

“My sweet knight.”

You fall asleep under Matthew Murdock, your legs, hands, and hearts tangled together.  

---

a/n: :3C Next chapter is the zoo.

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath 

 @allllium @waywardcrow @thatkindofgurl

@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @ethereal-blaze

 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

@

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

@

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @ astridstark13

 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

[daycourtofficial]

Love Potion No. 9 Part 2

Summary: Azriel’s been subjected to the effects of a love potion, causing him to be incredibly clingy to you. You have to take care of him until it wears off.

Author’s note: ask and you shall receive! The people wanted it, the people got it! I’m also open to doing a short part 3 where they find out that Cassian and Rhys gave Az the potion - but let me know!

(Part 1)

You open the door, stepping back in. Immediately you are surrounded by shadows circling every part of your body, twirling through your hair, around your legs, your waist, your wrists.

“Thank gods, you were gone for hours,” Azriel whines, striding over to you, picking you up and spinning you.

“Az, sweetie, I was gone for five minutes.” You reply, chuckling as he sets you back down.

“It was days. I was starting to worry I’d need to eat my foot.” His hand gently caresses your face, before he crouches down and picks you up over his shoulder. He dashes over to the bed, placing you on top of it and then laying directly on top of you.

“You’re squishing me,” you mumble into his neck.

“Yes,” he replies, not elaborating more.

You huff, moving your arms out to get more comfortable. Without saying anything, his hands grip your waist, and he flips you two so you’re on top of him. Your legs straddle his waist, and he holds you impossibly tight to his chest.

“My turn!” He exclaims, and you’ll have to note that love potions make you 1) incredibly clingy and 2) essentially drunk.

You lay on top of him, wondering if he was going to fall asleep like this. He has been busy the past few days, and you always worry when he’s gone whether or not he sleeps properly.

You hear his breathing get deeper and you think he’s fallen asleep until he murmurs, “feels s’good.”

You didn’t even realize you were lazily tracing your fingers up and down his arm. You still yourself, worried that this was too much, that when he sobered up he’d feel violated. Cassian’s words ring through your mind, “I’m sure Azriel can find it in his heart to forgive you if you took advantage.” Was that true? Could he?

You feel yourself getting a little too comfortable, when a realization hits you. “You stink,” you say, beginning to untangle yourself from him, “you need a bath.”

“Trying to get me naked, sweetheart?” He asks, waggling his eyebrows as he stands up and starts undoing his leathers.

“No! No, you just have been gone a few days. You reek of the forest.”

He stops undoing the straps his arm covers, “do you not like forest men?”

You shake your head no, “no, I like clean smelling men. I’ll start a bath for you, okay?”

He whines, “will you help me bathe?”

You sigh, the pitiful look on his face working on you. “No, I think you’re capable of bathing yourself.” Being a healer, you were used to nudity, it didn’t bother you, except for when it came to the male you were head over heels for, who was currently standing in front of you.

He starts undoing his leathers again, taking his shirt off and throwing it on the floor. You can’t stop yourself from staring - watching the tattoos that cover his chest as they practically dance across his skin as he’s moving. Tracing your eyes down his arms, watching his fingers move, undoing his pants and letting them fall to the floor. You genuinely can’t stop yourself from ogling this man standing completely naked in front of you.

You, Feyre, and Nesta had all gossiped about which one of them you thought would be the biggest, all three of you declaring it would definitely be Azriel. Staring at this marble statue of a male, the three of you were right. There’s no physical way the other two brothers could measure up to him.

“Like what you see?” Your head whips up to meet his eyes, looking at you with drunken amusement. He chuckles, enjoying the way you looked at him. Your cheeks are on fire, you’ve never ogled a patient before. But also, Azriel’s never been in such need of patient care.

He walks over to you, and you take a step back. “You’re drugged, and it would be a terrible idea for anything to transpire while you’re in such a state.” You declare, trying to maintain some sense of professionalism.

“So you don’t want to join me in the bath?” He asks, trying to step closer, as you side step him. “That would be a very bad idea,” you say, stepping away from him and toward the bathroom.

“Actually I think I got injured on my mission,” he says, a pained expression overtaking his face, “I don’t think I can bathe myself. Can you help me?”

His expression shows mock pain, but his eyes are aglow with amusement.

You laugh, “okay, fine, if you get in, I’ll help you.”

-

You didn’t take into consideration just how much he would enjoy your touch on him as you bathed him. Honestly it was actually very pleasant - you lit a few candles for him, and gathered a few washcloths and some soap. He was still covered in dirt from his mission, so you started by dipping the cloth into the water and cleaning off his arms.

You start humming, enjoying the peace and quiet of the bathroom. His room was nice and cozy, a surprising contrast to the image he wishes to portray to the world.

After cleaning his arms, you ask him to tilt his head back, “so I can wash your hair.”

He does as you ask, and you had actually stepped out to your room to gather your bathing supplies for him. His room was sparse of supplies, so you figured he could just smell like you for a day or two.

You cup your hands together, forming a basin with them, gather water, and pour it gently over the top of his head. After wetting his hair enough, you lather some shampoo in your hand, gently coursing your fingers through his hair.

You hear him practically purring at the situation of your fingers rubbing into his scalp. “Does that feel good?” You tease.

“Gods, yes. I’m not sure anyone’s ever done that for me before.”

Your heart breaks a little at the admission, not sure how anyone can be so cruel to him. Teasing aside, he was always incredibly kind to you and all the other members of the inner circle. You swear you haven’t had to open a door for yourself since coming to the night court and you’ve never been worried that they don’t like you. The male before you had always made you feel so included, even when you hardly knew anyone.

“Well, if you want, you can ask anytime and I’d be more than happy to help.” You say, trying to get the sentiment across.

You two continue in peaceful silence, before he asks, “can you sing for me? I once heard you singing, you were in the kitchen, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

Gods, you thought, he’s really trying to make me a puddle.

“Sometimes I hear you singing in my dreams.”

“What do I sing about?”

He thinks for a moment, “seeing me again. You only sing in my dreams when I’m away. You sing to me, asking me to come home.”

His admission makes you want to squeal, but you oblige his request and start singing an old song, one you had heard in your home court at a bar. You sing as you untangle his hair, a tale about falling in love as if some force was pulling the subject of the song to the singer.

“You have delicate hands,” he says, his head still tilted back. You had finished rinsing out his hair, but he was so calm like this, you just kept raking your fingers across his head.

“And a beautiful voice. A beautiful everything, really. I’ve never seen someone so beautiful. And kind. And smart. You’re so nice to me.”

“I could say the same things about you, Az. You’re also incredibly kind and beautiful.”

He just kept his head tilted back, enjoying the peace of this bath. You’re wondering what he’s thinking about, when he starts speaking again, “can you do this every time I come back from a mission? Might make me come home faster too.”

You giggle, “sure, I can do this after every mission.”

You didn’t mind agreeing - either you got to do this or Azriel will completely forget he asked. Gods, you think, will he remember any of this? On one hand, you know he’ll be incredibly embarrassed and flustered, on the other, you’re not sure how you can pretend none of this happened.

You help Azriel out of the bath, handing him a towel so he can dry off when he grabs your wrist. “Thank you,” he says, looking into your eyes.

You’re not sure if the effects of the potion are starting to wear off, but he seems less loopy, but still just as clingy. You smile in response to him, turn to leave, when he tightens his grip on your wrist.

“Can you dry off my wings? I hate going to bed with wet wings.” He says, and his hand has reached up and is caressing your jaw now.

“Won’t that uh, make you.. ya know?” You say, gesturing with your hands trying not to say the words.

“Make me…?” He asks, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Your cheeks burn with heat, “aren’t wings like super sensitive?” You practically whisper. He laughs, “yes, but mostly just to touch from someone, rubbing a towel on it isn’t that seductive, I must say. Knowing you’re the one holding the towel, however..” he trails off, and he spends a moment just looking you up and down.

“Stop that,” you say, grabbing a towel.

“Stop what?” He asks, spreading out his wings for you to dry them. You start dabbing his wings with the towel, rubbing the towel up and down his left wing.

“Stop looking at me like I’m a meal,” you say, focusing on his wing.

His hand grasps your thigh. “But darling, how can I not? You’re taking care of me, touching me. Regardless, if I was a condemned man, I’d pick you for my last meal.”

You stop cleaning his wing at his words, “sweetheart,” he groans at the pet name, “nothing can happen while you’re still under the effects of this love potion, talk to me when you’re clear-headed.”

You resume cleaning his wings, honestly amazed at all the nooks and crannies. You’ve always wanted to see Ilyrian wings up close, but have never been confident enough to ask any of them. You know they’d probably let you look at them for medical knowledge, but they feel so… personal.

“But baby, I’m not under a love potion. I’m under your love spell.” He waggles his eyebrows, still with his eyes closed, enjoying both the cleaning of his wings and making you fidget like this.

“I did not cast a love spell or love potion on you!” You say indignantly.

“You existed and charmed me immediately.”

“I did not,“ you reply.

“After I met you, I spent days trying to learn everything I could about you. Your powers, where you’re from, your favorite cookies. Rhys caught on super quickly, unfortunately, and wouldn’t tell me more about you. ‘Ask her yourself’ he told me,” he says, doing a quite spot-on impression of the high lord.

“And did you ask me yourself?”

“I tried to get Cassian to do it, the bastard figured it out pretty quickly. You were just so pretty, how was I supposed to walk up to you and go ,”hello, tell me everything about yourself, I’ll listen. Are you free forever?” He looked so lovestruck, you couldn’t believe you could have this kind of effect on him.

You giggle, “well, I’m pretty easy to impress. I’m ashamed to admit it but that line would have worked on me. Honestly any line from you would have worked on me.”

He bolts upright, “you mean to tell me we could have been having gloriously hot sex this whole time?”

Your cheeks flame, “well I mean hopefully there’d be other stuff too, I’m not that easy.”

He tilts his head back in laughter, “you might not be that easy, but I am.”

You laugh, “okay Mr. Nice and Easy, I’ve finished drying off your wings, how are you feeling?”

He thinks for a moment, “honestly, I’m pretty tired. I don’t sleep well on missions - too wired to sleep.”

In addition to the clinginess, the love potion is making him so vulnerable. It’s nice to have him open up to you like this - how can you go back to how it was? You two were very friendly before, but this? This is a whole new level of vulnerability.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that as he was leaned against the cupboard, he had started falling asleep. You convince him to lay in his bed. He agrees, but “only if you come with me.”

He insists on you cuddling with him. You tell him you’ll go grab some pajamas, but he whines and takes off his shirt, handing it to you. “Your room’s too far,” he says, “besides I think you look adorable in my clothes.”

-

Azriel woke softly, a warmth pressed against him. He genuinely can’t remember the last time he slept so well - usually only when he’s injured and you or Madja provide him a concoction to sleep for days to heal.

He looked down, seeing your head nuzzled into his neck, his mind exploding with questions - did we do it and I forgot? Was I drunk? Gods, he thought, I hope not. He lifted the blanket a smidge, and both of you were fully clothed, eliminating that possibility. He did note that you were wearing his shirt, the back slits undone so we could see little slithers of your back. His hand was resting there, touching the exposed parts of your back.

He starts trying to remember what led him here - the mission, coming home, his brothers, the debrief, waiting for you to come check on him. Oh, gods. It all came back to him. He grabbed your ass, shamelessly. He flirted with you, shamelessly. He flirted with you, while he was naked. You bathed him. He wouldn’t let you go farther than 6 feet away from him. You dried his wings. You sang for him.

That’s it, he thinks. I’ll have to move. There’s no way she’ll want anything to do with me after forcing myself on her for hours. Maybe I can work for Helion in Day.

His thoughts are interrupted by you nuzzling your face into his neck. He swears he feels you kiss his neck, but he’s not sure.

He feels you stir after a while, and you look up at him, a sleepy smile adorning your face. “Hi sweetheart, how are you feeling this morning?”

He groans, “you can stop the nicknames, I think the potion’s out of my system.” He sees your face falter for a split second before composing yourself.

“Ah,” you say, “how much do you remember?”

He sighs, tightening his grip around you. Convinced you’re about to disown him and want nothing to do with him, he’ll take all the physical contact he can get right now. “I remember all of it, and I’m… I can’t believe I did all those things.”

“I don’t think you should feel too embarrassed,” you say, rubbing his arm.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, “and why not? I’ve practically been forcing myself on you for twelve hours.”

You giggle, still rubbing his arm, “did you know that love potions only work if you already have feelings for someone? Love potions work by just taking what’s there and bringing it to the surface. It smells different for everyone, smelling like things you’re attracted to.”

He stills at your words. He could deal with the embarassment of being all over you, but the knowledge that you now posess that he has deep feelings for you? It’s too much, he thinks, putting his face in his hands.

“People who take love potions are often covered in the smell of it, and it comes off of their breath like alcohol.” He feels your hands wrap around his that are still covering his face. “I uh couldn’t smell it on you. I smelled your canteen out in the hallway,” you pause, “it smelled like books, and fresh ink, and you.” His eyes snap to your face, and you look directly into his eyes.

You clear your throat, so what you’re about to say will come out as clear as possible. “If I drank a love potion right now, I would be hanging all over you, telling you how beautiful you are and how much I think about you. I’d probably also tell you that it was incredibly difficult not to give into your advances yesterday, because I did not want you to regret anything. As much as I wanted something to happen, I didn’t want it like that. At least, not the first time.”

He keeps your eye contact, searching your face for any trace of amusement.

“There’s a first time?” He asks, a smug look overcoming his face.

You laugh, “there’s as many times as you’ll have me.”

“Well I think it’s only fair for it to be your turn, falling all over yourself, telling me how beautiful I am.”

“Yeah?” You ask, putting your hands on his face. “Yeah,” he replies. “Well in that case,” you start, leaning in closer, “you are devastatingly gorgeous,” you kiss his cheek, “incredibly kind,” you kiss his other cheek, “oh so smart,” you kiss his forehead, “and I am hopelessly obsessed with you.” You lean forward, catching his lips in your mouth. Your lips move in harmony, his hands gripping your waist. You press yourself into him, deepening the kiss.

After minutes, hours, or days, you pull your head back and tell him, “now, uh, if I’m supposed to be hopelessly in love with you, I think you’re supposed to take care of me and give me a sponge bath.”

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

ethan and reader doing a sex tape?? also don’t know if ur comfortable but can you do a full detailed one??! please and tyy have a good day🙏🏻

I am SO SORRY it took so long to write this(a little over a month. I feel like an ass). It's literally 4.4k words, strictly smut with a dash of fluff. I kinda went in on this lmao

Into It - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Your boyfriend convinces you to make a sex tape with him.

Contains: Long ass smut lmao - Oral, m and f receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms, a little ass smacking, p in v, multiple position changes, unprotected sex. (If I missed something, let me know. I'm SO SLEEPY rn)

A/N: If there's any grammatical errors, shh no there's not. I'm struggling to keep my eyes open tbh 🙃

“I don’t know about this, Ethan,” you mumbled, as he helped you take your shirt off.

“No one else will see it but us, babe,” he said, trying to convince you. “People do stuff like this all the time.”

“Yeah, on porn sites,” you sighed, as he unhooked your bra.

“You’re way better than any of the other girls on those sites, baby. Watching you take my cock whenever I want to would be so hot,” he said, running his hands over your newly exposed breasts. You felt a chill run down your spine as his fingertips started to graze over your nipples.

“Fine,” you sighed in defeat, his fingers trailing further down your body, “but if anyone else sees it Ethan-“

Your words got stuck in your throat as he started to rub you over your panties.

“What was that, baby?” he asked, his lips turning to a smile as he watched you squirm. “You were just about to threaten me, I think.”

“Don’t be an ass,” you got out, your breath heavy as he slid your panties to the side. “Can we at least get on the bed?”

“Yeah, baby. I’ll get my phone set up,” he said, as he pulled his hand away from you. He looked around the room as you crawled onto the bed. “Hmm, this might work…for now,” he said, walking over to the bookshelf in your room. “At least while I’m teasing you.”

“What if I don’t want you to tease me?” you asked, a smirk playing on your lips as he turned around to look at you.

“You and I both know you like it,” he said, before turning back around and getting his phone set up. He pulled his shirt over his head after he was satisfied with the angle, the view of your bed perfectly in frame.

You stared at him as he walked around to the other side of the bed. You’d seen him without clothes so many times, but you always had to admire how hot he was.

Once he stood against the side of the bed, you wanted to put on a little show for the video he was making. You got on all fours, your ass sticking up as you started to unbuckle his belt. His eyes drank in the sight, loving the way your body looked in that position. He thought you always looked perfect, but there was just something about the way you looked in that moment that desperately made him want to fuck you even more than he already wanted to.

You unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down his thighs as he kicked them off the rest of the way, leaving him in his boxers as he crawled on the bed with you. You saw how hard he already was, the small wet spot on his boxers from his precum made your mouth water.

You sat on your knees as he leaned in to kiss you, his mouth gently moving against yours, at first. He soon had you pushed back on the plush comforter, his tongue dancing with yours as one of his hands started to roam your body, his touches making your skin tingle.

He trailed kisses along your jaw, down your neck as you whimpered at the feeling. You felt him smile against you before his mouth started to attack your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you said, as he started to suck on the sensitive flesh.

You knew you’d have to cover the mark later, but you didn’t care. You loved the little reminders he’d leave of how good he made you feel.

He moved lower, placing tender kisses along your collar bone.

“You really are going to tease the fuck out of me, aren’t you?” you asked, the desperation in your voice making him laugh softly.

“Patience, baby,” he said, as his mouth made its way to one of your nipples.

He sucked it into his mouth as you gasped, the feeling making your core throb even more than it already was. Once he was satisfied with the attention he gave to it, he moved to the other one, his tongue swirling against it before he started to suck.

He could tell your pussy was craving attention when your hips started to wiggle. He ran his hand gently down your body until he made it to your soaked panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he said, as you whined in response. “I’ll make you cum soon, babe. I promise.”

He pulled his hand away as you started to get frustrated, your pouty lips making him smirk when his hooded eyes connected with yours. He shook his head at your expression, turning his attention back to the teasing, his lips trailing between your breasts and down your stomach. You ran one of your hands through his hair as he made his way down your body, him groaning against you as he felt your nails against his scalp.

“You know what that does to me,” he said, as he stopped at the top of your panties.

Your breathing got heavier as you waited in anticipation, hoping he’d just slide your panties to the side and take care of you. That’s not what he did, though, his mouth moving towards your thighs instead. Soft moans were slipping past your lips as he kissed the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, his teeth occasionally grazing against you.

He was so close to where you needed him, his mouth as close to your pussy as it could be before, yet again, he skipped over it. He moved to the other thigh, giving the same attention that he gave to the other one.

“Ethan, please. I need it, baby,” you said, your eyes pleading with his as he looked up at you.

“I have a better idea,” he said, as he pulled away from you and slid off the side of the bed onto his feet.

“Where are you going?” you asked before you answered your own question in your head. He went over towards your bookshelf, grabbing his phone.

“Shit, I never started recording,” he said, his tone serious as you scoffed.

“You’re not teasing me like that again right now, I’m sorry,” you said, your tone defensive as he started to laugh.

“I’m just kidding, babe. I got it,” he said, walking back over to the bed. “You think you can suck my cock before I eat you out?”

You wasted no time after he crawled back up on the bed and laid on his back. You grabbed at his boxers, trying to pull them down. You huffed as you looked at him.

“Jeez, babe. You’re so needy,” he said, lifting his hips to make it easier for you to get his boxers off.

“You have no idea how bad I need to cum, but I need this, too,” you said, as his erection sprang free from his boxers, resting against his stomach as your mouth started to water. He had his phone pointed at you as you sat on your knees and started to stroke him, your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched his face.

You knew how badly he wanted you to suck it, but after all his teasing, this was the least you could do to get a small amount of revenge. His eyes got darker, realizing that’s what you were doing. You didn’t stop though, your hand movements got lazier once his breathing got heavier.

“Baby, please,” he said, “I need to feel your mouth.”

You hesitated for a minute, loving the feeling of having the upper hand as you started to move faster. Once you decided that you’d teased him enough, you leaned down, licking the drops of precum that started leaking from his tip. Just as you were about to take him into your mouth, he stopped you.

“Wait, can we do this on the floor? Like, I’m standing and you’re on your knees? I want it to be easier for you to look up at me,” he said, “Is that okay, babe?”

“Mmm, that sounds perfect,” you said, quickly shimmying off the bed and getting in the position he wanted you in before he even had the chance to sit up. He started to smile as he crawled off the bed, the corner of his bottom lip in between his teeth as he looked down at you.

“You look so beautiful,” he said, putting his cherry red tip in front of your mouth. “You’ll look even more beautiful when your mascara starts to run down your cheeks.”

Your breathing got heavier at his words, his phone pointed back at you as you grabbed his cock, rubbing his tip over your lips. You teased him like that for a few seconds before you opened your mouth, sucking on the sensitive head. His free hand ran through your hair as you started to take him in your mouth, inch by inch until you started to gag.

“Just like that, baby,” he said, as you looked up at him. Your cheeks hollowed as you started to move, your throat tightening every time the tip of his cock made it to the back of your mouth. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Your eyes were starting to water as you gagged, your tears threatening to slip out as he started to add small little thrusts into the mix, making you gag even more.

“Aww, look at you, baby,” he cooed, the tears slipping past your lower lash line. He groaned once he saw how wet his cock was from your spit, so proud of you for doing such a good job. The hand that was loosely in your hair started to get a tighter grip, his hips moving a little faster. “Such a good little slut for me.”

You whimpered around him, the throbbing in your core getting unbearable as you started to move faster. You needed him to cum so you could, and it might’ve made you a little selfish, but if you didn’t get your own release soon, you were going to go crazy.

“Shit, baby,” he said, as your red, watery eyes looked into his, “I’m gonna cum.”

It only took a few more times of your warm, wet mouth tightening around him for his hips to falter, his grunts turning into whimpers as you tasted the salty liquid. When you pulled back, his half-hard cock was connected to your mouth by strings of your saliva and his cum mixed together.

“God, baby,” he said, taking in the sight in front of him as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. He made sure that he got the perfect shot of your mascara-stained cheeks before he helped you up off the floor. “That might be the best head you’ve ever given me…does doing it in front of a camera turn you on even more?”

“I know I didn’t want to do it at first, but I wanted to make sure you had the best material for your alone time,” you said with a cracked voice, smiling at him. “I do kind of enjoy it, though.”

“We could always do this again,” he suggested, as you nodded in response. “Okay, babe. I know you need it. Get that pretty little ass of yours up on the bed.”

You did as he said, your head resting against the soft pillows as he laid his phone on the bed and crawled on top of you to kiss you again. His hand rubbed over your panties; the material drenched in your arousal. You whimpered as your hips started to move at the simple touches.

“I think these need to come off,” he said, running his hand over your hip, his thumb hooking around your panties as he started to slide them off you.

His lips trailed over your jaw again, down your neck, and over your stomach. You were almost scared that he was just going to torture you with his teasing again, but he was moving a lot quicker this time, desperate to take care of you.

You stared down at him as he got settled between your legs. “Wait, how do you want this part to be filmed?” you asked, glancing over to his phone beside you on the bed.

“Hmm, I’ll get plenty of shots of your face when I fuck you…why don’t you just film me?” he suggested, as you picked his phone up, pointing it at him as he started to lean in.

Your breath hitched the second he started to place gentle licks to your clit, your free hand going to his hair. “Mmm, feels so good,” you said, his tongue swirling over your bundle of nerves. His hands were massaging the flesh of your thighs as he held them apart, his mouth starting to sloppily move against you.

You couldn’t decide if you wanted to watch him though the phone screen or not, the whole thing making you even more turned on as you felt one of his hands move up your thigh. You soon felt his middle finger prodding at your entrance before he slid it inside of you with ease, your wetness coating him as he started to move it just right.

“Shit,” you gasped, the feeling making your legs tingle.

He moved his finger for a few minutes before he added his ring finger, a low moan slipping past your lips as he started to press them a little harder against the spongy spot inside of you.

He looked up at you, noticing how quick your chest was rising and falling, your moans getting a little louder as he inched you closer to your orgasm.

He sucked your clit into his mouth as he started to move his head back and forth, his curls ticking your thighs.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you whined, your eyes screwing shut as your hand in his hair started to tremble. “Oh my god.” He sucked harder, the stimulation making your legs start to jolt as your orgasm washed over you.

The sucking on your clit turned into soft licks as he worked you through it, his fingers slowing a little anyway because your pussy was clenching them so hard. Once you stopped whimpering, he slid his fingers out before placing one last lick to your clit.

He sat up as he watched you catch your breath, your hands still shaky.

“Did it feel that good, baby?” he asked, grabbing his phone that you must’ve dropped at some point on the bed.

“So good,” you mewled, your hazy eyes connecting with his as you felt his fingertips brushing against your thigh again.

“How many more times do you think you could cum for me?” he asked, your eyes fully opening as you stared at him, your nervousness obvious to him as he started to laugh. “You know after I cum from head, it takes me a while to cum again. You remember the time we went at it for almost an hour?”

“Yeah,” you said, smiling as you thought back to it.

“How many times did you cum in that hour?” he questioned with a smirk, already knowing the answer.

“Four,” you said softly, “We switched positions a lot.”

“Are you okay with us doing that now?” he asked, as you sat up.

“Of course, babe. This is for the little movie you’re making,” you said, the seduction in your voice making him groan.

“Come here, baby.”

He pulled you into a kiss as his hands grabbed your hips, yours running over his chest as the kiss got more heated. He was running through all the positions in his head that he wanted to do, wanting to strategically plan them so it wouldn’t be too much before he had the chance to cum again. He knew that if he went super deep after you’d already had a few orgasms, you started to get really sensitive in those positions, usually tapping out after just a few minutes.

He pulled away to look at you, “How about you ride me first?”

“Okay, babe. Condom or no condom?” you asked, as you pushed him back onto the bed.

“What do you think I want?” he asked, smirking at you.

“No condom,” you said, laughing a little.

He nodded as he bit his bottom lip. “Shit, I almost forgot,” he said pointing his phone at you as you moved to straddle him.

You sat on his thighs for a minute, stroking him as you looked at him. He didn’t say anything, he just kept filming your hand move until you pulled it away. You shimmied up his body, raising up a little as you lined his cock up with your entrance. Once you started to sink down onto him, he kept glancing between you and his phone, making sure it was truly capturing the way your mouth fell open as he stretched you out.

“Mmmm,” you moaned, placing your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself as you started to bounce on his cock. “So big,” you got out, between your heavy breathing.

“So fucking tight,” he groaned, his free hand going to your hip as he helped you move.

He watched your tits bounce as you rode him, your sounds flooding out of your mouth as your nails started to dig into his chest.

“Shit, babe. That feels so good,” he groaned, as you smirked down at him. Ethan liked a little bit of pain from time to time, and you had no problem doing it for him, knowing how hard he’d cum once he’s had enough.

After a few minutes, your bouncing started to slow. Your knees were hurting and your legs were burning, but you felt that familiar feeling starting to build. It gave you enough motivation to chase your orgasm, bouncing even harder than you were before. Ethan’s seen you do this countless times, knowing that you must’ve been close. He moved his hand from your hip to your clit, his fingers rubbing quick circles.

Your ass was slapping against his thighs as you started to whimper, the feeling washing over you like a massive wave.

“Oh shit,” you slurred, drunk off his cock as you tried to keep moving, but it was getting harder to do. His hand moved back to your hip to hold you in place as he fucked up into you.

You slid him out of you as you came down from your high, laying your chest against his as you caught your breath. He felt your hard nipples pressing against him as he sat his phone down and ran his fingertips over your back.

“I hope you’re going to do most of the work for the rest of this, because my legs hurt so bad,” you said, as he started to laugh. You smiled at the vibrations coming through his chest.

“Sure, babe. I have a few ideas, you just need to lay there and take it,” he said, his hand running down your body to squeeze your ass. You moaned at the feeling, your tiredness starting to fade as you sat back up. “You ready to go again?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice still a little tired, “How do you want me?”

“Face down, ass up. Before you get too tired,” he chuckled, “I’m going to get you to hold my phone again for a little bit. I don’t get to see your face that often when I’m deep.”

“Fuuuck,” you groaned at the thought, getting in the new position, and grabbing his phone. Your hips involuntarily wiggled as your ass stuck up in the air, waiting for him to slide inside of you. He softly smacked your ass before he started to line up with your entrance, pushing his cock back inside of you.

You moaned at the feeling, the grip on your hips getting tighter as he started to thrust.

“You take it so fucking well,” he groaned, delivering a harder smack to your ass. He rubbed over your skin to soothe the slight stinging feeling. “You’re so perfect.”

His cock was buried so deep inside of you that it was hard for you to think, let alone form words. He kept saying sweet things to you, your only response to him was your moans getting louder.

He watched your free hand start to claw it the comforter, bunching it up in your hand as you tightly held on to his phone with the other. The coil in the pit of your stomach was getting tighter and tighter as he kept pounding into you. He glanced over to your phone screen, seeing all the hot little faces you were making.

“Shit,” he grunted, as you started to meet his thrusts with your hips. “You gonna cum?”

He looked at the back of your head as you started to furiously nod in response. He went even deeper, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix.

“Watch yourself when you cum,” he ordered, as you whimpered and stared at the phone screen.

Your jaw was slack as your eyebrows knitted together, so close to falling over the edge. He just kept drilling into you, your eyes starting to flutter as the euphoric feeling hit you so hard your entire body was tingling.

“Yes, baby, feels so good” you babbled, as your boyfriend laughed in response at your current state. He loved making you completely cock dumb.

He slid out of you once your walls stopped fluttering before leaning down to place sweet kisses on the red mark on your ass cheek.

“Relax, baby,” he said softly, as he helped you adjust your legs so you could lay flat. “You’ve been doing so good for me,” he praised, rubbing his hand over your back as he sat beside you. “Can you take one more for me?”

“Missionary,” you mumbled into the comforter, making Ethan laugh. “I can’t take much more.”

“I know you can’t. I was starting to get close last time,” he said, “I know it won’t take long if you can handle it.”

“I can, if you help me,” you sighed, your body so relaxed from the multiple orgasms that you were struggling to move on your own.

He took his phone out of your tight grip before he helped you roll over onto your back. Your eyes were so glazed over, your eyes even more beautiful than they normally were.

“Thank you for doing this for me, babe,” he said, smiling sweetly at you as his hands ran over your hips. “I know we’re about to be really busy soon because of exams. This is the next best thing to actually being with you.”

“You better send it to me,” you said, your voice tired as he got settled between your legs.

“The idea of you getting off to this makes it so much hotter,” he sighed, as he pushed his tip in your entrance. “Fuck, I really might not last long. You’re already so tight.”

“It’s okay, babe. Fuck me until you can’t anymore,” you said, rubbing your fingertips across his arm as he made it all the way inside of you.

Your lips parted as soft moans slipped past your lips, his pace a little slower than it had been for the last few positions. He didn’t want to hurt you, and he knew how tired you already were.

“You can go faster, baby,” you said, his hips moving a little quicker as he leaned down to catch your lips in a kiss. He almost forgot about filming, but he wanted to take care of you and make sure that you still felt the love in this, and that he wasn’t doing it just to have the hottest masturbation material for later.

He pulled away from the kiss, sitting on his knees and angling your hips so he could film his cock sliding in and out of you. He groaned once he looked down, noticing a ring of your cum coating the base of his cock from the orgasms he’d already given you.

“God, baby. You’ve already came so much,” he said, his hand running across your stomach as his pace started to get faster. His fingertips grazing against you made you shudder underneath him.

You felt your fourth orgasm of the night building, the slight overstimulation of everything making it so easy for you to cum again. One of your hands snaked down your body to rub gentle circles against your clit, as the other gripped one of your tits, pinching at your nipple as you got closer. You tried to watch him through your hazy eyes, his curls stuck to his forehead and his cheeks a deep shade of pink from all the work he was putting in.

He had his phone angled down to his cock as he felt your pussy tighten around him. Strained moaned were slipping past your lips as he groaned, noticing more of your cum on his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he said, giving you a few more hard thrusts before he pulled out, shooting it from your lower stomach all the way up to your breasts. “That was fucking amazing,” he panted, as he pointed the camera to all the cum on you before stopping the video. “You okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you said, fighting off the urge to just fall asleep in that moment as he laid down beside you.

“We really need to shower. We’re both so sweaty, and you’re covered in cum,” he said with a small laugh as you groaned.

“Can I just have a couple minutes to rest? I don’t think I can stand long enough to shower right now,” you said, as you felt his fingers lace with yours, his thumb softly rubbing over the top of his hand.

“Yeah, babe. If you doze off, I’ll wake you up,” he said, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

When Ethan got home the next morning, the first thing he did was upload the video he made onto his computer. He started to edit it, only taking out the moments when nothing was actually being filmed. After he watched the video from beginning to end after he’d finished editing it, he was rock hard as he pulled out his phone to text you.

Ethan: If you ever want to drop out of school, I have a new career idea for you…

You: Oh?👀

Ethan: You should see this video. You’d be amazing in porn😏

You: Hmm, maybe I will drop out🧐

Ethan: Don’t get any ideas though. I’m the only one you’d be fucking.

[missterious-figure]

(Hey guys! Sorry for being so absent lately! It's not cause of anything bad, it's just cause I've been hanging out with friends and family more often with school out of the way! Thank you guys for being so patient!)

You weaved through a large crowd hurriedly as you heard your name being called out after you. It probably wouldn't be to hard to escape, with the flashing lights of the bar making it hard for on lookers to tell one body from another. You ducked lower to try and break out of his field of vision. Who were you hiding from? Why it was Sun, of course. One of the three Celestial peacock brothers.

He was standing tall amidst the many groups of drunk partying patrons. However, he was scanning the room only looking for one person. You. His favorite little handler. The only person who has ever downright tried to avoid him. It always baffled him as to why someone would consciously choose to stay away from him and his magnificence, but he was determined to bless you with his presence regardless.

If he could find you, that is. He was on the outskirts of the crowd of party goers. Unbeknownst to him, you had scurried your way to the bar counter in the middle of the bustling bodies. He would search farther into the groups, if it wasn't for them trying to touch his beautiful tail feathers. No way was he risking getting their grease on his gloriously golden feathers. He walked around the crowd a couple times to see if the could catch a glimpse of you, to no avail.

You were still semi-crouching, keeping your eyes on Sun as he searched in vain. You were pretty confident with your position, that is, until the group parted to give enough room to a member who started break dancing. You froze as you were left in a quite visible opening in the crowd. You stopped breathing as you noticed Sun was staring in your direction. His eyes met yours for what seemed like eternity. A few heartbeats later, he smirked and kept walking as if he hadn't noticed you.

You were puzzled, but taking this opportunity, you dashed to the counter and stood near some people who were sitting at the bar. They were loud and annoying, but made for good cover. You were constantly keeping an eye out for the large golden harpy, unsure if he really hadn't seen you. With every passing minute you felt a little more on edge, as he had disappeared. Maybe he gave up and left the bar? No, that didn't sound like him. Knowing Sun, he would probably wait for the right moment to ambush you when you least expected it...

No sooner than had you finished your thought, your view was blocked by a feathery chest. You squeaked as your back was gently pushed into the counter. He placed his elbows on the counter and held his chin up with his palm. Your eyes found his pale blue ones only inches from your face. You quickly looked away, trying to hide your face from him. His elbows blocked your arms from your sides and effectively made a cage around you. He slowly opened his golden tail feathers with a shake, pretty much insulating you all to himself.

"Now that we have ourselves a "private" place, we can have some time to ourselves."

You were about to protest, but the back of your head was cupped by one of his hands. He nestled your face into the crook of his neck. He grabbed your waist with his free hand and pulled it closer to his body. He loved how fast your little heart pitter-pattered at his touch, and how your skin burned with longing. You were such a poor thing. Clearly your body loved his presence, so he didn't understand why you kept yourself from his majesty.

With your face still crammed into his neck, he closed his eyes and licked the back of your head. He began to slowly groom the hair he could reach from the awkward position you both were in. Your mind was in a daze and you could barely think. You knew lots of birds groomed each other to form stronger bonds, especially between mates. The thought made your cheeks burn hotter than before. However, even despite the embarrassment, there was something so oddly soothing about all this. It felt so good...

With each passing stroke of Sun's tongue, you began to melt into his touch. You closed your eyes and accepted that you were, admittedly, enjoying this. You also knew your fellow employees were never gonna let you live this down if they found out... good. You were too groggy to care anyway. You just wanted to be in the moment.

Here's the picture with out shading.

[tiredwriter2003]

Halloween Dancers

I had an idea, I'll probably write it properly later but for now I'm getting it out of my head. I was reading a post a out Dash being a talkshow host and leading to them outing Amity and this came to mind.

A cousin of a citizen of Amity heard all about all the crazy stuff going down, they keep them updated in their weekly phone calls, but thought they were making it up. Eventually divolves into an argument and they decide to look to prove them wrong. And find the internet oddly sanitised, which makes them look deeper. Eventually they get others involved wondering tf is going on over in Illinois. They manage to break through but mess up, instead boosting the signal so much that the halloween livestreams take over a large chunk of American media. T.v. s, computers, phones, etc all playing the phantom streams, where someone sees phantom just chilling and starts streaming. this time it's Samhain and the place is eerie. Blue tinged fog covers the place, it's dark out, no living person in sight and the camera pointed to the sky. In the sky you see glowing figures dancing to music coming from nowhere. An ageless youth in regal clothes spinning his partner, white hair drifing like he's underwater, his partner dressed like the pharohs of old spinning alongside him. A woman dressed in victorian ballgowns joining their dance. Other etheral beings coming out of the woodwork, spinning in the sky alongside their king. The dead dancing in the starlit sky as the veil becomes thin enough they can all come through with no major issues. And this haunting scene taking over every screen within the signals range. As the hours go by the sun begins to rise and the fog fades. they bow and begin to fade back into the realms, leaving the original three waltzing in the sunrise as the stars fade before leaving themselves and the stream cuts off.

Turns out their cousin wasn't lying, wierd stuff is going on in Amity, and no one, including the JL, knew about it. Someones head was going to rule for the lack of info. This stunk of a coverup.

[c0wb0ylikem3]

Our Song

•summary: in which mercedes drivers y/n l/n and lewis hamilton are to compete in another youtube challenge

•authors note: this is an old draft!! Not proofread 😭

•pairings: (y/n x lewis hamilton!platonic)

Compared to other Formula One teams Mercedes were not know for there social media presence, unlike other teams such as Ferrari with their infamous C2 videos and McLaren with there two drivers constantly uploading a new video every week. However when Y/n L/n replaced Valteri Bottas seat in the latest season the fans demanded more content with the girl and her teammate, Lewis Hamilton.

The rain fell as Y/n made her way to the Mercedes media building. She was told to be there fifteen minutes ago however she got caught up by fans who seem to find her anywhere. Entering the building she quickly said hello to the front desk as she dashed to the room she was needed in.

“Glad you could join us L/n” Lewis spoke and she sent a glare towards the seven time world champion. She was drenched, had no time to stop for her daily coffee and now she was supposed to film a video. “It’s not my fault I actually care for my fans”

He gave a look of shock and rolled his eyes at the girls attitude which currently was resembling one of a teenage girl. “Clearly someone didn’t drink there coffee this morning” she sighed taking off her jacket so it could dry off.

“Okay I’m going to explain what we are doing today, as you know during the beginning of the year we asked you two to create a shared playlist for Race Weekends. We are going to be testing you both seeing who put what song in the playlist” The media director explained pointing to the white desk with two buzzers.

Y/n and Lewis took a seat on opposite sides settling in as they set up to record. “Recording in 3…2…1” the director gave a thumbs up signaling Lewis to start the intro.

“Hello and welcome back to another Mercedes showdown off the track” Lewis spoke looking towards you “Currently I’m in the lead because I won the last two challenges while Y/n has only won once” Y/n playfully rolled her eyes “that’s because you cheated at just dance!”

Lewis retaliated “ How does someone cheat in just dance?! We are not getting into this again.” Y/n laughed continuing the bit “So today we are trying to guess who put what song in our 2023 playlist our lovely Mercedes admin will shuffle the playlist and we will have to hit the buzzer and say who put the song in the playlist”

Round 1

The Mercedes admin grabbed her phone and shuffled the playlist the first song began to play, Y/n heard the first few notes the song seemed familiar but she wasn’t sure. Lewis on the other hand knew what song it was “Too Comfortable Future? It has to be one of my songs look her face”

Y/n hung her head low already off to a bad start, although this isn’t a race she can’t help but be competitive towards any competition. “I don’t listen to future like that” Y/n commented before moving onto the next round

Round 2

The next song began to play and she knew it in a heartbeat. Hitting the buzzer Y/n beat Lewis by milliseconds.

“You know a lot of girls be Thinking my songs are about them but, This is not to get confused This one is for you” she sang along to the popular song

Lewis laughed at the girls actions “Best I Ever Had by Drake” Y/n said as she finished her solo “Obviously I love this song but Lewis put this one on the playlist”

The admin double checked before rewarding Y/n the points and she cheered. “Now we are even Hamilton”

He rolled his eyes “For now”

Round 3

Another familiar song began to play, this was definitely one you put in the playlist. Unfortunately Lewis beat you to it like you had in the previous round.

“It’s a Bad Bunny Song i just don’t know what song” he explained covering is face in frustration trying to think of the song’s name “Is it Tití Me Preguntó?”

Luck was now on the girls side as she laughed “Can I answer!” Y/n asked enthusiastically as the Admin nodded ‘yes’

“Me Porto Bonito and it was one of my songs” She smiled victoriously gaining another point.

Lewis sighed shaking his head “That was my other answer I should’ve went with my gut”

Y/n held Lewis’ hand sympathetically “it’s okay not everyone can be good as me” He pushed her hands back returning his attention the admin to begin the next round.

Round 4

The girl was completely lost when she heard the song play . She was not really into EDM music and that was her first thought when she heard this song it had to be Lewis’ song.

Lewis however looked just as lost until it hit him.

Y/n saw his eyes light up as he hit the buzzer “this is one of my songs right? ‘On My Knees’ I forgot who sings it”

“He shouldn’t get the point then!” Y/n exclaimed but she lost the fight nonetheless

Lewis smirked “we are even now!”

Round 5

“YOU BELONG WITH ME” Y/n screamed the song wasn’t even five seconds in as she hit the buzzer causing her teammate to jump in fear at the girls actions

Lewis looked at her in shock and disbelief, he knew she was a fan of the famous singer but not to that extent.

“I think she really likes that song” the admin laughed

Her teammate continued to laugh at the girls actions as she sung along to the song “remind me never to play Taylor Swift around you”

Round 6

“Right now we have the very enthusiastic Y/n in the lead, However this last round is winner takes it all” the admin explained

Both Mercedes drivers had there hands on the buzzer ready to answer

The introduction of the song already gave it away but the two drivers answered at the same time

“DNA Kendrick Lamar” they shouted

Not knowing who should get the chance to answer which driver put the song in the playlist so they could secure ten points the admin told them to play a game of rock, paper , scissors.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors shoot”

Lewis put our Scissors while Y/n put out Paper.

The girl let out a cry as Lewis answered “It was me right?” He smiled ready to win the game

“Unfortunately you’re wrong with means Y/n won the challenge!”

The girl who was once sitting in sadness stood up in cheers “FINALLY!” She cheered as Lewis was left in disbelief

“That was rigged” Lewis said

“Oh now it’s rigged just take the L” Y/n shot back

The drivers had calmed down before filming the outro “If you enjoyed this video leave and like and comment and make sure you follow so you can check out other videos of me destroying Lewis Hamilton” waving goodbye in waves of laughter the so called “short video” took atleast two hours.

Grabbing her phone Y/n looked up at Lewis as he was met with an equally frightened face, “Did you get a call from Toto too” Lewis asked

Y/n nodded “He’s gonna kill us”

[dadsbongos]

kanin under maanen

word count - 4.6 k

warnings - p in v sex, reader is described with words like "soft" and "round" and is also fem, rag's status as a widower is an afterthought, i kept losing track of where i put his furs

also - i think oldegaard is funger's norway?? or something... :P oops

“Please- I’ll be quick, I swear! I’ll carry things! I know how to mix herbs, I can heal you! And I’ll be quiet, too. Just, oh, just please... please let me stay with you…!”

Your hands rattle against your chest, which heaves like you’re fresh from a churning dash through the entirety of the dungeons -- just to ask this man, a stranger, a simple question.

“Can I stay with you, please?”

Ragnvaldr stares down at you over the bridge of his nose, seafoam eyes lapping over the weaker stain of your frame in his vision. Such bold, shameless desperation plagues him. He starts to wonder how you’d made it to the courtyard. How many cramped corners you’d jammed yourself into, barely scraping out of the dungeon beasts’ sights. How you’ve held your mind together to form words and continue your slow crawl to freedom.

The reddened, raw stretch of skin over his right ribs stings suddenly to emphasize your point. Ragnvaldr was raised well enough to know which shrubbery to scrub into which wounds and which ones to avoid at all costs, but his knowledge was poultry compared to what these cells demanded.

At the downwards twitch of your knees, Ragnvaldr can feel an uncomfortableness to rival the ache of his seared flesh twinge through his beating chest. He takes you by the shoulder, grip loosening when you flinch under his hold. Ragnvaldr shakes his head, silky cardinal tresses dancing over his skin. His lips, cracked and fading in color, pin themselves back faintly to ease your shivering uncertainty.

“No need to beg on your knees,” Ragnvaldr unlatches from you completely in favor of cradling the slowly leaking slashes in his side, “You said you can heal?”

“Yes!” you eagerly respond, nodding, “Yes, let’s sit you down!”

Ragnvaldr flows under the bristle of your fingertips, fur armor quickly coming off. His uncovered back was against the chilled stone highwall; lower body stretched out against the grass bed. Your hands move in smoother, more assured strides as you single out the most useful of your colored leaves.

“Can I…?”

“Ja, anything you need.”

Ragnvaldr’s eyes, you notice, have softened in how they watch over your work. The flutter of his lashes now matches the tenderness of their color. A near-missed swipe from a serrated weapon -- none like you’ve seen -- decorates the majority of his right side under his arm. Angry red lines string over the pink flesh. You press a careful hand into the surrounding area, testing the firmness of his body for soft spots. For broken bones. He allows it, despite the stark difference in strength and the fact he could probably crush your skull with one palm -- he allows your hands to roam.

The bag you pull from is ratty and he thinks the deep brown hue may be more from staining than original dyes, but he says nothing. You first pull out a thick book with yellowed pages between faded, peeling covers. Then, four blue herb sprigs and two glass vials -- the stretch and twist of your bones and ligaments beneath soft, unbruised skin is hypnotizing to Ragnvaldr. You crush the sprigs with a single vial before hurriedly separating the remains between the two vials and combining two blue vials into one.

“I don’t think it’s infected,” you murmur, clogging the vial with a cork. A lighter shade of blue now shimmers beneath the glass, darker shreds of herb cling inside the abandoned second vial.

Ragnvaldr shakes his head, “Nej. I’d have mentioned it.”

“Ah, right,” you cup a hand over your mouth, eyes wide as if you’re offstruck by your own words, “I didn’t mean- of course, you- I mean… I’m sorry,” you bashfully reopen the cerulean bottle and hold it up towards the man’s face, “I didn’t mean to suggest anything…”

A vicious anxiety continues to course through your chest, no matter how pliant Ragnvaldr has made himself to show his trust for your care. You’re visibly hyper-aware of how simply he could end your life. Something about the nature of this makes him nauseous.

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Ragnvaldr speaks softer than before, his voice a deep, gentle purr through the broad expanse of his chest. Tenderly, he swipes the open vial from your palm, the warmth from his skin washing over the cold nips of your own, “Thank you.”

Silently, you nod, wasting seconds to watch his adam’s apple bob thickly with each swallow before you pull loose the cloth you’ve collected through ransacked rooms. The strips coil around themselves by your kneeling legs.

“Can I start wrapping it?”

“Ja.”

“This might be…” you flounder under his eyes, instead stringing up the cloth in your hands and leaning over Ragnvaldr’s bigger frame. Invasive.

Ragnvaldr contemplates, for the second time, how you’d skipped past guards and tentacled flesh beasts and dogs. Even the impish, frail, winged creatures seem capable of knocking your terrorized self off your steady. Then, he asks himself why he’s taken you in. Oldegaard groomed strong warriors, and he had always taken pride in that. He was raised with scorching blood and willing hands, you were not.

But you remind him of the blacksmith’s girl. A sweet thing -- also unfamiliar with the fighter’s path. He prays she was killed quickly rather than being made to suffer.

Perhaps he can apologize to her and the rest of his gutted homeland by escorting you back out once he’s taken revenge.

“How did you get this?” your voice lulls Ragnvaldr from his own head, he looks up from your binding hands to your soft face, “Can I ask that? How were you injured?”

“A man with the head of a crow,” Ragnvaldr admits this to you with the ease he would his name, “A mace for an arm,” he gestures down the length of his side, “He’s much faster than I am.”

“I’m glad you got out,” you finish tucking the tattered end of your cloth spiral into the rest of the sprawl. You are suddenly afraid of being misconstrued, “I’m glad this dungeon couldn’t claim another soul.”

Ragnvaldr thinks you are as kind as the blacksmith’s girl, but you must have resilience to survive this far. More guts and nerve, and even teeth. They may be loose and accustomed to chewy, lavish fat, but you most certainly have teeth.

He wants to see them.

“I feel the same.”

You smile, bigger than he had earlier. The thin shadows and dimples highlighted in your face remind him of when he was younger, with the liberty to stare up at full moons. Absorbing and beautiful with radiance to shine over shadowed forests and into black night seas. He wants to return to there. Even in the cruel winters when he was faced with the opened chests and severed limbs of his deceased comrades. Even then, when he had to eat or be eaten, things were simpler compared to now.

“I think you should rest,” you frown immediately after speaking, “To avoid agitating the wound with the cloth… it isn’t very clean and I don’t have enough green herbs to keep infections at bay for long.”

Ragnvaldr tenses, but it’s not as nerve-wracking as it would’ve been mere moments ago. He clenches his fists and gently skims his knuckles down the pseudo-bandages, when it stuns him momentarily, he nods.

“We can’t stay out here, then.”

“There are rooms in the dungeon’s first level.”

“For torture?”

Dread fills you, that he may consider your suggestion foolish and ultimately dump you off to a guard, but then you see the lopsidedness of his grin. He’s messing with you.

“Well, yes,” you huff, coming to a stand and holding out both hands to assist him up, “but our options are limited.”

Ragnvaldr stubbornly stands on his own, pushing off the tower wall behind him and stumbling ahead of you towards the entry hall.

And with just as much defiance, you jam yourself under one of his arms before you can properly think out the action. Your desire to be helpful and needed by the strongman outweighs your politeness; not wanting to be abandoned with your back turned. Ragnvaldr jolts over you, but relents and leans the more unstable part of his weight against you. The trek is difficult, but you both manage. You feel less afraid traversing back through the dank, dark halls than you did leaving them, and you are not ignorant to the fact it's because of Ragnvaldr hanging over you. Injured as he is, he’s still far more competitively capable than you.

Once you’ve properly settled into a room and jammed the door shut, Ragnvaldr slips onto the sole creaky bed. His eyes close, exhaling noisily through his nose.

The bed’s frame is caked in dried, blackening blood and sits opposite a bucket full of murky sludge; a crinkly film drying over the surface. Pressed far into the side of the room is a table with glinting blades scattered across the stained wood. You can’t define what most of the tools are, but you can identify the skinning knife teetering by the closest edge of the table.

Aside from that are the typical smears of carmine blood over cobblestone: people before you and someday people after you. You can only pray now to the old Gods that it won’t be your own blood to join the pool.

For that, for your safe passage through the dungeons, you need to ensure your new party doesn’t fall to infection or blood loss.

“I’ll check you over tomorrow morning,” you tangle your fingers together, switching the weight between your feet, “Maybe tonight if it’s noticeably hurting.”

Ragnvaldr stares over at you again before patting the bed.

You heed the silent command, dragging along the worn bag you pulled from a barrel in the basement.

“What brought you here?” you wonder quietly, looking over at the man. He monopolizes the bedspace, spread wide over the mattress without even intending to.

His eyes drift up to the ceiling before finding your dutiful hands again, he follows the movements as they dig through your items. Taking stock of what you have, mourning the losses, and fretting over what you need. The blacksmith’s girl didn’t have hands as mystifying as you.

“I am here to find a relic that a certain person took from my people. This man is imprisoned somewhere deep down below,” Ragnvaldr is not so foolish as to believe his home’s pillaging is either undeserved or unbefitting for his soul to bear. He’s done the same, and the parasite from Vinland still burns a hole in his pocket. Even so, his human heart persists, “When I found them- I was one of only a few survivors.”

“Oh,” you pause your inventory search to very delicately press a hand to his shoulder and pat sympathetically, “I’m sorry. That’s terrible.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

He wonders what someone with as soft hands and face as you would think of such a declaration. If the teeth you have can chew through the toughness of his words. You pull back, but much slower than he was expecting, and return to sorting through your bag.

Much to Ragnvaldr’s surprise, you smile, “Then I’ll make sure you get there in one piece.”

You swallow his ominous message without pause.

“What are you doing here?”

“Ah, a friend of mine…” you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, fingers caught at the bottom of your bag with a thin slip of paper, “She’s pregnant and the man promising to wed her came for a job to set them up for life. He’s been gone for a while.”

“A friend would send you here? Into this evil?”

“She never said she wanted me to come here,” you shrivel into yourself, settling your bag against the bedpost leg, “I don’t know what compelled me… I really- “ your hands fist the torn, blood-stained sheets, “I was an idiot to think I could’ve done any good here.”

Ragnvaldr sits up, laying his calloused palm over yours, “The man you’re looking for. What’s his name?”

“Cahara. Cahara of the South.”

The man nods, auburn strands hanging with the motion, “And I’ll make sure you find him for your friend.”

“Thank you,” you notice the way he moves further to the side, a new gap on the mattress for your body to slot beside him, “Thank you, Ragnvaldr.”

He doesn’t think he’s heard someone outside the North say his name with such care.

You lay beside Ragnvaldr and revel in how close the two of you are. Safety and comfort buzzing in the lack of space.

He’s big. And warm. Like the sun.

You missed the sun.

…

Upon rising from slumber, you see that Ragnvaldr is still in unguarded rest. His bare chest rises and falls in soothed repetitive swoops, and his soft hair rains over the flat pillow beneath him. Prepared to slide off the mattress, you don’t register the arm fastening you to Ragnvaldr before you’re brushing against it. The arm tightens and you’re rendered useless.

You contemplate waking Ragnvaldr. Of squeezing yourself through the narrow hold. Even forcefully unwinding his muscle from your midsection.

You fall back asleep.

…

By the next time you’re awake, Ragnvaldr is too. You’ve sat him up against the scratched, chipped headboard and are undressing his wound. Green herb sprigs sit at the ready by your right knee in case pus is clinging to the cloth and oozing from open shreds. Thankfully, nothing of the sort awaits.

“Good!” you chirp, and Ragnvaldr remembers a full moon hanging over the spindly, leafless trees in the harsh falls of his youth, “There’s still some scratching, probably scarring later… but no infection! And it’s not inflamed or red.”

“We should continue our way, then.”

“Oh.”

Ragnvaldr laughs suddenly, from the hull of his chest, and only stops when the skin over his ribs pulls uncomfortably, “You want to stay here?”

“It’s been nicer than out there… We could stay in here. Away from the darkness.”

It has been nicer. The dungeons of Fear and Hunger are no place for domesticity, but anything is fair in a locked room. In a strange way, you wish you could stay with the beautiful man from Oldegaard.

His hair brushes past his shoulders and even though he is so much larger than you (you fear that he may even be able to kill a guard on his own), he is nicer than most men you’ve met in your life. Especially where you live in the seedier underbelly of Rondon -- men with spines are not uncommon, but men with spines and hearts are. Cahara was a welcomed gem in the coal mines of home.

And Ragnvaldr, you fear, might be your prettiest diamond.

He gazes upon you fondly. Seafoam you want to drink up. Or drown in. You haven’t decided yet. He cups your round cheeks and smooths back the stray hairs slicked to your face.

“Maanejente,” he coos beneath his breath, the harsh pads of his thumbs glide over the plain of your face and down your neck, working into the knotted meat of your shoulders, “Maanejente… nothing will hurt you. Not with me here,” he wants to see your teeth in that pretty smile from last night, “You have sugar in your heart, has anyone told you that?” you bare your teeth in a grin and he feels more successful than after any battle, “We’ll press on later.”

You nod under his calm massaging, eyes drifting to the fiery lines over his right side, “I don’t have anything to make the wounds close.”

“I don’t expect anything more,” he soothes, studying you kindly. Oldegaard had such a wide, unhindered view of the skies, when he was a boy he would stare into the moon’s craters. He’d compare them from night to night and dream about a day when he would defeat a beast so great, he’d be rewarded. The thick trees of Vinushka Himself would lift Ragnvaldr high into the sky and he’d be able to study the deep caverns up close, “You’ve healed me plenty to keep fighting.”

He became a man and forgot those dreams in favor of providing for himself and his wife and their child.

But he remembers himself in his purest form and finds that he doesn’t want to part with you after taking revenge against the foolhardy Le’Garde. If you asked, he would stop fighting after that, or he could become the God of Ultra-Violence. Whichever way you please, he’ll bend.

“Maanejente, we should go.”

You move swiftly, exhaling sharply with a curt nod, “Right!” you stow away the unused green herbs, “Right, we’ll go.”

“The job your friend had taken, what was his work here?” Ragnvaldr watches you move. Your sureness and determination sway him further.

“He had to find a man,” you bury yourself into the shadow of Ragnvaldr as he unsticks the room lock, “I’m not sure of the name.”

“An important man, though,” Ragnvaldr is embarrassed how his first thought is what you’ll do if he kills the man your friend is meant to rescue, “Must be.”

You realize what he means, eyes widening, “No! It… Well… It could be…”

Ragnvaldr’s warm gaze melts into the floor tiles as he guides you through the dim hallways. Prison guards moan and gurgle in the distance and the sound used to freeze you in your spot -- it now feels like the squeaks of mice with the Northern man in front of you.

“I’m sure if he knew,” you brace, “he wouldn’t get in your way.”

Ragnvaldr pushes through to the courtyard, unveiling rows of hanged men naked and baking in the open air. Despite the fact this is, in fact, open air, the scent of death continues to cling along each blade of grass. A mist clogs your vision.

Bared skin wafting more warmth than the exposed sun, Ragnvaldr looks down at you as you clutch your measly bag. Your expression is pinched like you’ve somehow stabbed him in the back. His red hair burns like gold embers in the bathing light.

“You would let me kill the man, then?”

“He hurt you,” you answer simply. A way so unbridled by dark and evil, Ragnvaldr once again cannot comprehend your survival past the entrance guard dogs.

You discuss a stranger’s death with the comfort you would which color you prefer for robes. You have teeth unsharpened by true terror. Ragnvaldr should get you free of these walls soon.

“Sugar for a heart,” he muses.

The two of you duck under an archway and find a womanly figure in the mist. Two oblong points jut out from her skull, and the closer you get the more defined her shapes become. Firstly, is that she’s naked (Ragnvaldr chuckles when you gasp and clench your eyes shut); second is that her horned points are ears on a mask. Her voice drips like honey from behind the bunny mask,

"Welcome to the meadows, o' travelers,” she shifts closer to the wood post behind her, your eyes slicing sharply away from the sway of her breasts, “Let us ease your suffering…” your stare dawdles up over the contemplative face of Ragnvaldr, then to his injured side, “The first one is free."

“Mending of flesh,” you mutter, creeping further into Ragnvaldr’s coziness, “Sylvian will heal you, if you…”

Ragnvaldr is struck by the opportunity, wringing his hand through yours and stringing you into the scene. The expressions you can make out from under the eggshell masks are highly varied -- from twisted agony to buttery bliss to far-off stares and brainless drooling. Some bodies are limp, unmistakable from corpses aside from occasional jolts and twitches of their hips. Other bodies are more lively, rocking and humping in veracity. A man with dark hair stands in the middle, he waves the both of you over.

"Are you looking for partners?” you clutch Ragnvaldr’s hand tightly and pointedly ignore his exposed groin, and he squeezes back. The man giggles quietly beneath his mask before holding out two more, “Just take off your clothes and put on these masks."

“Come, mannejente,” Ragnvaldr pulls you away from the man, a previously unfamiliar thrumming working hot blood through his entire body. He works off his furs quickly and lifts your bag from your shoulders to lay it down, “Would you be my partner?” he smiles softly, “I’m not sure of these other people.”

His utterance curls inside you like a full meal. The thought alone makes your mouth water. He’s got meat on his bones and you want to sink your teeth into him. If he were to sleep with anyone else in this garden, you can already tell the sight would make you physically sick. You hope that he’d feel the same.

“Right,” but the dungeons are not a place for his affection for you, and even though you know you’re not made for this world -- you don’t want to make him lose sight of his mission, “Everyone else is just strange.”

“Not you,” Ragnvaldr’s hands find your shoulders again -- working slightly under the hem of your lackluster cloth shirt, “Not you.”

Ragnvaldr is big and warm like the sun. More like the sun than what hangs in the sky above. The sun you used to run under as a small girl before the crushing weight of responsibility ran you tired and nerve-sprung. You miss those days. Somehow, even though he’s directly sifting off your clothes, you even miss Ragnvaldr.

Somehow, you need him closer.

And closer you pull Ragnvaldr, right by the furs draped over his shoulder; unsurely brushing your hands under the thick material. Ragnvaldr flows under your call, shrugging off the weight of his furs as he frees you of your own clothing. Little mind is paid to either you or Ragnvaldr by the other erratic bodies, but still, their presence is off-putting. In a terrible nightmare, you could see these people being broken from their overstimulation as soon as Ragnvaldr is tucked inside you. Then their eyes would wander -- would they judge you? A newcomer unwelcomed, perhaps?

Ragnvaldr gently kisses your cheek, sweeping you up between his arms and smoothly lying you on the plush grass. He kneels between your spread legs, angling the surrounding bodies out of your vision the most he could.

“Focus on me,” he simpers, all to your ears, “Sweet girl… snill maanejente...”

You never studied the tongue of the North, figuring that it would never come into play in the West, but you could listen to Ragnvaldr ramble to himself in his mother tongue all day. His hands slide over your sides, molding into the bend of your waist before snatching you up by the hips and perching you over his bent knees.

“I- “ wind catches in your throat, hands balling on the ground, “I’ve never laid with a man before…”

Ragnvaldr nods, leaning over you with his broader form to kiss you again. On the lips this time. He leaves with a soft, chaste peck before pursing his lips and letting spit pool in his mouth and laving your cunt with the saliva. He promises to be patient while slicking a single finger inside you.

The stretch is not entirely unpleasant, a faint pinch.

“Relax for me, sweet girl,” Ragnvaldr stares down at his hand slowly pressing into the apex of your thighs, “Take a deep breath and relax. Let me take care of you, yes?”

Ragnvaldr hikes one of your thighs to his waist, continuing to fingerfuck you until you’re gasping his name. His spit is joined by your natural wetness mixing along his thick middle finger, slippery and messy: he coils a second finger into you, carefully stretching your hole. Your other thigh joins at his waist of your own volition, jerking your leg into him in the throes of bubbling pleasure.

The warmth of Ragnvaldr’s body swaddles you, the meat of his palm grinding against your clit and sending a spiral of heat down your spine. Heating your chilled blood and raging all the way into your face.

Your bottom lip catches between your teeth, both hands squeezing around Ragnvaldr’s wrist as you cant your hips into his hand.

Noticing your earnest efforts to meet his fingering halfway, Ragnvaldr’s spare hand cups the flesh of your ass and pulls you higher over his lap, “Eager, maanejente?”

“Oh, please, Ragnvaldr!” you whimper, jerking onto his fingers. This begging he could get used to, “Please, please, I need you to- !” unfortunately for him, you stop that plea short, “I need you!”

“Beautiful voice for such greed,” he shadows over you, kissing and sucking the column of your throat as he replaces his fingers with the head of his cock. The enveloping heat of your cunt sucks him in as though you’re starved, tightly he grasps your hips and restrains the urge to give in and press your pelvis flush to his. He may leave violet imprints, but he knows he will soothe them later so the concern is quickly pushed aside, “My sweet girl is greedy,” he whines at the squeeze around his dick, “And so lovely when I’m inside her. So pretty, aren’t you?”

Your arms loop around his neck, nails puncturing into the skin of his bare back. Heat waves through your palms and through your arms -- all down your chest and into your churning gut. Most of all, however, the heat is buzzing where the both of you are connected. His hips slotted against yours.

“Pretty when you’re working,” he lifts you from his cock before thrusting in again, building in speed until his hips are pistoning into you in smooth, fluid strokes, “Pretty when you’re fucked,” his thumb finds your soaked clit and circles it, just to pinch out as many of your whines as he can, “Pretty - hah! - pretty maanejente.”

Ragnvaldr is big and broiling hot and you don’t know if you can stand to be apart from him after this. Dungeons be damned, damned as your souls.

His cock spears each sweet spot nestled inside you: thick and full. And messy. So wet you can feel your juices webbing between where his hips meet your thighs on every pull-back.

The arm not stimulating your button of nerves rolls under you and up to the back of your neck. He secures you in his hold, pressure on the sides of your throat though not suffocating, so he can push even further inside you. Ragnvaldr kisses up from your collarbones to your jaw and finally the corner of your mouth before he huffs into your mewling lips. Your thighs tighten around him as the steady warmth of ecstasy comes to a boil.

Ragnvaldr’s tongue dips into your mouth, desperate to taste your own tongue. Try as he may to keep quiet in favor of your moans, the throaty, raw groans and grunts from his chest never cease. The sounds make you wail louder into his gaping maw as your cunt cinches around Ragnvaldr.

When he was a boy, he used to dream of being lifted by swirly branches until he could scrape the moon with his fingertips. He imagines the feeling of you cumming with him is the same, inseparable euphorias digging up from his gut and swallowing the rest of his body whole. Your teeth latched into his neck, and he is unwilling to be released.

In darkness, he finds the moon. And for now, he doesn’t need to consider how foolish it is to trap a celestial body beneath him when he’s here for Le’Garde’s bastard head. In darkness, he’s illuminated by the powdery shine he senselessly clings to.

In the same way, you bathe in a sun that feels otherwise unattainable. Large and unburdened, Ragnvaldr warms your chills with ease under a sun less desirable than his company. A muggy, clouded sun -- wholly unappealing compared to the man above you.

This affection will eat you alive down here.

You might let it.

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 3

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, masturbation

Part 1

Billy normally did this sort of thing with Stu. He had a feeling his friend would be upset that he went alone. That's something he'd have to deal with later. Your room was on the second floor with no obvious way up to the window. If you were the only one home he'd find a way in. With current company that wasn't exactly possible. Binoculars, cellphone, and his trusty voice changer, were all he had to work with. Doing this sort of thing without a knife was unusual.

He positioned himself where he could see your bed and the posters adorning the walls. Rear window, The Birds, Vertigo, and Psycho. You were an Alfred Hitchcock fan. "And Stu said you didn't have good taste in movies." He scoffed. Billy shook his head the binoculars close to his eyes. He watched as you walked in the room towel wrapped around your frame. One foot closed the bedroom door behind you. You looked to the window as you slowly dropped your towel. Did you know he was out here?

That was impossible. It was pitch black outside with the exception of the moon. Billy watched as you pulled the dress from the bag. A smile lit up your face which in turn brought one to his lips. A sense of pride filled Billy's chest knowing he picked it out. Once again your eyes found the window looking out as if someone was right on the other side. Slowly you pulled the fluffy nightgown over your head, the frill dropping right under your ass. Billy's hand slipped down his abdomen resting over his zipper.

You grabbed the matching panties from the bag dragging them up your legs letting the elastic slap your skin. Moving away from the window you looked yourself up and down in the mirror. Billy and Stu knew what they were doing when they bought you the nightgown. You spun letting the dress drift around you. Air seemed to catch in your throat as you got happy. A smile so painful your cheeks hurt, was one of the many indications you were elated with the gift.

The only thing you could think that would make it better was some music. Walking to your records you grabbed the worn out 45 listed under M for Monroe. Lifting the wooden cabinet cover you sat the vinyl down placing the needle in the first groove. Within a second "I wanna be loved by you" filled the room. You mouthed the lyrics as you danced around. That giddy feeling only getting stronger. Your hands slid up and down your body as if you were the best stripper on a Saturday night. It was classy though and Billy took note. The dancing wasn't the best, if you could call it dancing. It was like you were in love with yourself and the world around you. Playing around with the air that filled the room.

Billy started softly rubbing the bulge that began to strain again his dark jeans. His eyes never leaving you as you danced for an audience of one. Your towel dried hair swug around sure to fling left over water. You were his own personal burlesque dancer. Billy's hips grinded up into his palm. The knuckles wrapped around the binoculars began to turn white with his grip. He had no clue what song could make you ooze with such lust but he needed to use it to his advantage. You were walking innocence. Something he lacked throughout his life. You weren't stupid, you were incredibly brilliant. Every move you made it was intentional. You were putting a show just for him.

His hips quickened as the pressure grew. Little whispers of encouragement fell on deaf ears. Billy needed your glossy lips around him. He needed the hem of that frilly little dress to fall over his lap as you bounced happily. He needed... You. "Fuck!" He cursed through gritted teeth. He needed new underwear. "Fuck." He dropped the binoculars by his side to assess the damage you caused. The mess you made. A small damp spot began to make an appearance through the denim next to zipper of his jeans. Ignoring the uncomfortable mess he picked the binoculars back up noticing you were now buttoning up your pajama shirt. "God damnit!"

Now that your little burst of energy was over you were ready to crawl in bed. You switched the record over to something more peaceful, one that would take longer to end. Billy put the binoculars down to focus on the phone number staining his hand. His finger tapped the buttons double checking the numbers before hitting call. He could hear the ear piercing ring all the way outside. Before you could answer he pulled the voice changer from his pocket.

Quickly you leaned over grabbing the phone off the receiver. Placing it right back down with a click. It was too late for anyone to be calling. Billy took a deep breath redialing the number. Once again the phone screamed for your help. "Hello?" You asked politely to Billy's surprise seeing as you were obviously upset at the intrusion. You hoped it was Billy. "Hello.." He spoke not really sure where to go with this one. Well at least you know who it's not. You picked up the phone sitting the receiver on the bed next to you. You got comfortable with the phone resting against to your face. "Hi what's up?" You spoke. No asking 'who is this?' or 'why are you calling?" Maybe you were a little dumb.

"Um-" Billy cleared his throat thinking of a quick response. "The sky." He squeezed his eyes closed in shame. His eyes opened to find you with a smile. A small laugh could be heard over the phone. "Okay smartass what's down?" This was stupid. You were supposed to angry at the caller, suspicious even. Who calls a girl all alone at this hour? "The ground." You laughed clapping your hands. "That's right! Not too bad mystery man. But what do you need? Why'd you call?" Finally.

"What if I just wanted to talk?" You scooted yourself underneath the covers thinking about the caller. "Okay but I'm not doing no weird shit. You can call one those sex hotlines for that." Billy smiled at your assertion. "Fair enough. Who might I be speaking to?" It was a test. You barley gave him a name when you first met he doubted you'd give it to a psychopath on the phone. "I would say we could exchange names but what's the fun in that? I don't know you, you don't know me. What's your favorite song?"

The question was out of left field so much so he wasn't ready for it. "What's yours?" He asked to your disappointment. Billy saw the sad look on your face. "Am I talking to Socrates right now? I asked first." Billy begrudgingly gave out his answer. "1979 by the Smashing Pumpkins. Now what's yours?" You nodded your head at the answer. It seemed fitting. "Oh gosh." You sighed. "I honestly don't have a favorite. And if I did it would change next week. Have you heard Landslide by Fleetwood Mac? It's really popular you probably have." You took a deep breath in. Sighing out the air in one go. "Anyways I really like that one. It's kind of sad though if you think about it."

Billy sat listening to every word you said. "Your turn." He always had the most important question on hand. Billy wasn't really sure if he wanted to ask knowing what normally happened afterwards. "Do you like scary movies?" Billy put down his binoculars focusing on just your voice. "I'd say I do. I like a very specific genre of scary movies though." Billy sat up listening closer if that was possible. "What do you mean by that?" The voice on the phone became lower sending a slight chill down your spine. "Everyone likes scary movies to be bloody. The more guts and gore the better. You don't have to have that to make a scary movie. Vertigo is scary but there's practically no blood and Rear Window is one of the best movies made about a murder with no body ever being seen."

"Scary movies should get inside your head, make the viewer wonder if they are next. Make them wonder if they are just as screwed up as the villain." Out of everything you could've said he wasn't ready for that. "You are very smart girl." Billy didn't intend for it to come off as sexual. However you definitely took it that way. "Has anyone told you that you've got a very attractive voice?" Billy smiled holding back a laugh. "Is that so?" You nodded as if he could see you. "Yep. Anyways it's getting late mystery man. I'm going to get some sleep. Sleep well okay?"

"Okay. Goodnight mystery girl." Billy whispered into the phone. For the first time he was the one to hang up. To end the call without screams on the other end. It made him feel surprisingly good. The light in your room turned off letting him know you were actually going to bed. Billy quietly packed up his things and started the walk to his car. He wasn't sure if this little talk changed anything for you but it definitely changed things for him.

Part 4

Taglist: @katie-tibo @danodoll21

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Microfic

September prompt: shower

399 words

Rating: G

No warnings apply

@steddiemicrofic

Steve groans as he peers up at the sky on his drive home. It’s not that he hates rain, necessarily—he’s not a huge fan of storms, but rain’s usually okay—but it’s just one more thing he doesn’t need today. He hates trying to run inside without getting wet. It never works and he feels stupid for doing it—he can’t avoid every raindrop—but he also doesn’t feel like getting wet today. And of course, the umbrella that’s usually in the car had broken, so he’s got no covering.

He makes it home just as the sky opens. In a second everything is soaked, and he leans back in his seat and groans again, shutting his eyes for a moment, trying to steel himself for the dash inside.

He hears a faint whoop over the sound of the rain, and he opens his eyes and turns to see Eddie running towards him, grinning wide and wild.

“What are you doing,” Steve demands as he gets out, grinning at the absolute loon that is his husband. “You’re getting soaked!”

“Isn’t it great?” Eddie agrees.

Steve makes a face. “As long as it doesn’t turn into a storm, I guess.”

“Nah, it’s just a shower, baby. Now come dance with me in the rain!”

Steve laughs as he lets Eddie drag him out into the street, his slacks and button down clashing with Eddie’s oversized tee and sweatpants. He loves his husband an insane amount.

He laughs as Eddie spins him around, as Eddie dips him, at Eddie’s flail and squawk as Steve dips him. He laughs as he feels his shirt stick to his skin, as he feels his shoes fill with water.

But they’ll dry, and he’s got other shoes to wear until then, so he lets Eddie continue to dance with him, first humming some Metallica then somehow switching smoothly into a song from that U2 album Steve likes.

“I love you,” he suddenly murmurs, and Eddie stops humming to grin and reply.

“And I love you.” He nuzzles Steve’s cheek. “Always.”

“Always,” Steve agrees, sighing as he relaxes into Eddie. Eddie starts slow dancing with him, small steps and sways instead of the exuberant movements from before. “I was upset at the rain. On my way home. I didn’t think I wanted to get wet.”

“Baby, you should’ve told me-”

“No.” Steve smiles, kisses Eddie. “I just needed you.”

[narraboths]

[inspired in great part though very obliquely by this iconic piece of fanart]

“You must make a good impression, daughter. And take care of the company you keep.”

She has to keep reminding herself of her father's words, to stand tall and smile, dutiful and pleasant, and not to pick at her nails. It is a royal ball, after all. The first in ten years that Lord Otto Hightower has been graciously invited to, recalled to court and to his seat on the Council. A triumphant, joyful return by all measures.

Alicent, as ever, is ill at ease.

She’s never quite gotten used to the Red Keep during the last of the old king’s reign. It’s a queer place, too young, too great, too foul already. Even now, with its great hall all illuminated, the walls reverberating with the sound of music and laughter, it feels dark, suffocating, the twisted shadow of the Iron Throne looming large on its walls. In Oldtown, there’s wisdom and piety at court, in Highgarden, chivalry and grace. Here, she’s only met with the dragonlords’ lewd, alien splendor.

And she faces it alone.

(There was, once, the princess Rhaenyra, then a scrawny, silver-haired menace. Alicent recalls brief flashes, a wide, toothy grin, her brazen tone, the petulant pout when admonished, the little bronze dragon perched on her shoulders, then later padding after her through the court. The enraptured, curious look of blue-violet eyes, listening to Alicent’s reading. It was long ago. It’s Crown Princess now, a woman grown, and wilder still than the Rogue Prince, or so the whispers that reach the Hightower from the ports say. Dragon’s blood, King Viserys is said to jest. Alicent tries to pay just as little mind to their tales as little Rhaenyra must be thinking about her. There must be graver things for the kingdom’s heir to think about than daughters of disgraced courtiers.)

Time passes slowly. Lords and ladies come to welcome her with their honeyed barbs, lordlings and squires ask for a dance and squeeze her hand too tight, all sweaty and overeager to ingratiate themselves with the newly-made Hand’s daughter. Alicent nods and listens and smiles and charms, always gentle and always delightful as her father would wish, until her cheeks hurt and her face feels like a rigid, half-cracked mask. She feels the court’s cold, prying eyes on her, knows how they must be seizing her up, measuring, judging. A good impression.

Yet there’s something else, too, a different gaze that she sometimes meets, the eyes of a lean, pale figure from across the hall, standing in the circle of a gaggle of courtiers. They follow her with such piercing intensity that she feels her face burn. (In confusion, surely. Embarrassment.)

She takes refuge by a pillar in the end, sinking into its shadow. She doesn’t even realize when she starts picking at her nails again. She only knows that suddenly, there’s blood running down her finger and she hisses in pain, almost tearing her handkerchief in her hasty attempt to cover it.

“You have not changed one bit.”

She flinches, shirks away from the unexpected company – or would, but there’s a hand wrapped around her wrist, gentle but firm, holding her in place. A laugh, low and delighted.

Alicent looks up. Her captor is the pale stranger – a youth clad in the royal red-and-black, a mess of short, silver-white hair framing a handsome face, lighting up with amusement as they watch her stammer and squirm. Not Daemon, not one of the Velaryons, certainly, not…

“I did not use to give you such fright.” They grin at her dazed stare, mischievous and eerily familiar, squeezing Alicent’s hand carefully, pressing the handkerchief just tightly enough against the bleeding scratch. “Not just by seeking you out, that is.”

“Rhaenyra.”

The name is half-sighed, half-choked. The world is spinning. There is so little of the bony, bratty child she once knew in the princeling – princess standing now in front of her, half a head taller than Alicent, wide-shouldered, dashing, that Alicent can hardly believe it. But the princess is smiling even wider now, all bright, brash joy, and that sight itself is more achingly familiar than any superficial mark.

“The Hand has hidden you from us for far too long. I could not yet ride Syrax when you went away, do you remember? She’s large enough now to saddle two.” She’s holding Alicent’s hand, still, drawing it closer to her, close enough that Alicent’s knuckles brush against the buttons of her doublet. It is not strange, surely, the Crown Princess talking to the daughter of the Hand like that. No-one should think that unseemly. “I hope your father does not mean to deprive our court from your presence once again. I should take very dim view of it.”

Her gaze is warm still, but her tone drops strangely deep, enough to make Alicent shiver. She casts down her eyes.

“My father has meant no offense, Princess.”

That earns, startlingly, only a scoff.

“None of that, my lady of Hightower. You know me.”

Alicent’s face burns. “I’ve known you once.”

Rhaenyra lets go of her hand. Alicent’s heart sinks, for a second – then Rhaenyra’s fingers wrap around her chin, instead, tilting her head back ever so slightly, gently, until they are eye to eye once more.

“You will know me again.”

[musamora]

— ᴘᴇʀ ᴛᴇ ᴇ ᴘᴇʀ ᴍᴇ ɴᴇʟ ᴄɪᴇʟᴏ · ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ ᴅᴏꜱᴛᴏᴇᴠꜱᴋʏ

content. gn!reader. based on a request. forehead kisses, flirting, slight character study, possible inaccurate depictions of italy, teasing, slight suggestive themes (towards the middle), soft!fyodor, translation at the end. muse-typical metaphors. not proofread. 1.7k+ words.

author's note. this was so fun to write! a very delicate balance of sweetness and humor, along with the slightest dashes of spice and angst. thanks to @rusmii for descending from the heavens to remind me of "love in portofino." i had it playing on repeat <3

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

It was difficult to describe the issues that arose from you and your lover's hectic schedules, at least to others. How would you ever begin to explain it—he's a terrorist dead-set on the eradication of sin from your world, and sometimes that doesn't mesh with your nine-to-five career. Yeah, that would be well-received at brunch. But it was your reality, and for the most part, you made it work.

Simple meals served between stints of scheming in his office; convoluted stories discussed amongst infrequent breaks in your living room. Both of you were aware that a relationship would not be easy, but you made it work. It wasn't for lack of trying on his part; however, you knew he disguised his desire to be close underneath a mask of perfection, pretending it was solely for your benefit. Sure.

So, to your surprise, a pamphlet appeared on your nightstand. You scanned the cover with scrambled thoughts—its glossed sheen describing the wonders of Rome—and when you inevitably arrived in his office to question its sudden appearance, he simply stated that he 'required a visit to the country' and that he knew you'd be interested in joining him.

To most, he's an enigma, but you read him like an open book. There was no use in pointing out his scheme, so instead, you settled into the idea of a vacation, joyfully assisting in any help he needed booking the trip—you had been to the city before and often spoke of your wish to return someday, which had seemingly caught his notice. He placed you in charge of specific details of the itinerary—smaller stops on your preset route, the transportation, restaurants for lunch—though he noticeably had already planned many of the larger events. 

And that's how you arrived here. Rome, Italy. It was as luminous as you left it. You traded in your everyday attire for breathy linen and flowy cotton, allowing the Mediterranean sun to dance across your skin. Your ebony-haired lover was not far behind in fashion, a stark difference from the heavy wools and flannels of his motherland, which you had forced him to leave back in Yokohama so as not to worsen his already weakened constitution. 

The brilliant city held a beauty incomparable, its streets nestled with centuries of history that went beyond books, laid to rest underneath soil and entombed in stone. Even Fyodor, with many years of travel under his belt, couldn't help but admire the manmade structures of a bygone era, which reached like beacons of human ingenuity into the firmament. 

It had been ages since you explored the streets, and it was better now that you had a partner to hold your hand, hopping from place to place as you took in every destination with a new perspective. And in your exploration, you prayed Fyodor would find a connection with some kind of sight, with anything at all. He was a man so distant from mankind that you couldn't help but fret over his self-made isolation.

You were both exhausted—you had been on your feet for hours, and even though he tried to conceal it, you'd be foolish not to notice the slouch of his back as he tried to fight off sleep. He struck you with a knowing look whenever you cooed at him, forcing you to advert your eyes straight out onto the road as you scanned for the vehicle that was supposed to take you to the hotel.

Half an hour passed—nothing. You started to get worried.

"We've been scammed," he said, beating you to the punch as he stood from his seat on the sidewalk. You filled in his place, slumping against a wall as you hid your face in shame—one of the few tasks he had charged you with, and you had managed to mess it up!

He let out a breathy chuckle, patting the back of your head like he were comforting a scolded child. "We'll simply get a taxi."

You groaned, your stomach twisting at the sensation of your own incompetency, before allowing yourself to peek between your fingers to look out into the open world—and that was when you spotted it. A quaint shop with a flickering sign and a handful of mopeds slumped over outside. Fyodor's gaze followed yours, his brows furrowing as he found the target of your ire.

"Absolutely not."

But you had already grabbed onto his hand and pulled him out into the street, with surprisingly little resistance from him as he allowed himself to surrender to your will.

"You haven't experienced everything Rome has to offer," you hummed with a noticeable smirk, tilting your head to gaze at him between your lashes in a mocking attempt to sway his favor. "Come onnnn, Федечка."

He huffed, although his normal stoicism held an unmistakable look of fondness. "Ты маленькая гадюка."

You didn't need a translator to understand the meaning behind his words, heart filled with an almost sadistic joy as you approached the older gentleman that was running the shop. He seemed equally as amused as you were once he deciphered the situation, trading cash for keys as you skipped out the door.

Fyodor had planted himself onto the Vespa's seat without complaint, though you could not help his striking resemblance to a child on a bike that was far too small for them. He had his legs propped at an awkward angle to keep them from scraping against the ground, and the subtle twitch of his brow told you everything you needed to know.

You, on the other hand, were more than comfortable enough to settle between his legs, leaning against his chest as you reveled in the rare domesticality of the moment. That was until two arms decided to slither around your waist, a span of warm breath prickling your skin.

"You're quite brazen for someone that fell right within my grasp," he cooed, his voice dropping into that velvety, sadistically sweet tone that never failed to make you melt. 

The bastard had planned this on purpose—he had reviewed your travel plans beforehand, including the transportation company. Much like you could read him, he knew your story from cover to cover, often reading over every page like his favorite novel. And he knew the best ways to make you squirm, his hand snaking up your side, brushing the sensitive divots of exposed skin as it made its way around your throat, giving the slightest but most lingering of squeezes.

That was until you unintentionally floored the gas pedal, propelling you both onto the street—luckily, there wasn't too much traffic at this hour. Despite the rush of the sudden acceleration, you had found that your heart returned to its normal pace as you moved with a rhythm within the twists and turns. You zipped past various sights, most of which were the most enjoyable, in your opinion—a glimpse into the lives of those who occupied these homes. There was a comfort in the consistency. People had passed and left, but the atmosphere remained the same, passed with care through every generation.

And then, your eyes caught onto something, and the muscles of your fingers instinctively flexed against the handlebars. The arms around your waist squeezed you when you began to tilt the moped steadily to the right.

"Don't—"

But you chose to do it anyway, slipping into a narrow sidestreet. You tried not to burst out in laughter at Fyodor's dumbstruck expression through the wing mirror, wishing to capture this moment in a frame somehow. Who knew that all it took to shut the mouth of the destructive mastermind Demon Fyodor Dostoevsky was a trip on a potentially dangerous vehicle? 

You had recognized the pathway as a detour to an infamous part of the city—a perfect view of the Tiber River. It was difficult not to divert your path straight into the water when you funneled out into the road, the setting sun drawing a picturesque scene that could not be replicated, even if you returned to the same spot at the same time. There would never be another moment like this again. That sweet breeze parted the sky, both cradling and revitalizing you. 

You crept onto a safe spot to park the moped and jumped off to rush to the edge of a bridge that overlooked the entire river, leaning against the railing while being careful not to tip your body over the side. The water sparkled and flickered from the rays of the dying light, twinkling as creatures rested underneath its surface. It enveloped you in an atmosphere of complete calm as if you and Fyodor were the only ones to exist in the world.

Speaking of.

His eyes had drifted toward a view completely different from yours, at least in aspects of physicality. You may have admired a sunset as the peak of fleeting beauty, but you seemed completely unaware that you encompassed every aspect of such a celestial entity, yet in such a strikingly ethereal way. He had seen many sunsets many times, much like he had seen many humans—unique and fascinating in their own way, but not always beautiful. But then, you crashed into his life, and he knew it was always intended for you to remain at his side. Much rarer than a sunset, much more precious.

He would take your life into his hands, ones stained in blood and sin, and unlike all the others he held within his grasp, he would nurture it—cherish it. Like a blossoming flower, he intended to care for you, an invaluable treasure.

He had already found the sight he had been searching for.

"Look!" you exclaimed, practically bouncing as you pointed toward the swaths of fluffed clouds that embellished the sky. "Isn't it gorgeous!"

You didn't even notice the slip of his mask as he joined by your side, brushing a kiss against your temple as he eyed the blooming excitement on your cheeks with your grin. The wind swept through in another attempt to swaddle you, letting the fresh smell of water brush through the folds of your clothes and the tresses of your hair. You turned your gaze to Fyodor, laughter caught in your throat as your eyes peered into his—locked onto you with an almost unnoticeable but most genuine of smiles.

"It truly is."

федечка = fedechka ты маленькая гадюка = you little viper

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @aureatchi @betweensinners @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira

© 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 2024 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[starryharps]

wildflowers

pairing: rhaegar targaryen/ reader

summary: they fuck in a forest, what more do you want

word count: 1,509

tags: smut. fluff

read on ao3 | masterlist

The brook’s tattering breaks your mid-afternoon daze, with the sunlight chiding your vision as you sit quietly under the impossibly huge tree.

Rhaegar is picking flowers nearby, his harp resting against the bark of another tree. Beautiful thing, it is, to watch him strum those strings, how nimble his fingers look as they dance across the harp, how it plucks and pulls, and-

Gods. Your ears flush red.

What a sinful thought.

You bring your knees together, resting your head over the heavy robes.

For another day.

You hear Rhaegar’s boots become louder and louder, padding gently across the grass before he sits next to you.

Wildflowers. He bought wildflowers.

“Quite a collection,” you remarked.

He hummed, holding some of them in his hands. White, yellow, green, all beautiful and dainty small things.

“Do you know, you can make tea from them.”  he starts, “read it in a maester’s scrolls.”

“You can make tea from almost any flower or leaf if you dry and roast them enough.”

He gazes at you, unimpressed.

“Smartass.”

You chuckled, “logic.”

The prince watches you pick the pennyroyals up.

“Intriguing, you found these here.” You remark.

“Figured you’d appreciate the selection, for you keep collecting flowers.” Referring to your apothecary.

“Oh, so it is not for making flower crowns?”

“I do not know how to make them.”

“Why not?”

Confusion colors him, “What do you mean why not?”

“You’re bookish to a fault, thought you’d know how to make flower crowns to charm ladies.”

“I do not read such books.”

“Explain me tales of the wench and the sailor on your shelf then?”

He sputters, looking away.

“That was a gift.”

“Certain. Boys and their collection of literary erotica they swear to the seven they have never read, but forget to take out the glaring red bookmark.”

He calls out your name, indigant.

“This is unladylike.”

“I thought we dropped court formalities when we entered these forests.”

“This conversation has turned indecent.” Rhaegar quickly picks up the harp, playing it, you notice the heat on his cheeks and smirk.

He pretends to not notice you crawl slightly towards him, playing his harp.

“What crown prince would ever be caught reading naughty tales of a wench covered in flowers,”

Rhaegar’s hand shakes, and the harp’s tune wavers. You reach his shoulder and slightly move the long hair behind his ear as you whisper.

“as she gets deflowered by a dashing Essosi sailor-“

His breath hitches.

“How unbecoming of a noble to read such a debauched work.”

“Y-you.”

His indigo eyes are so beautiful as they lace in fear and arousal.

“Tell me, which one did you imagine yourself as? The sailor?” You hook your finger on the collar of his tunic.

Rhaegar shakes quietly, his harp sounding like a cacophony of nerves. You admire the small braids in his hair. He’s inlaid them with ruby pins.

“Or perhaps, the wench?” You whisper, putting his harp away.

He starts, your name, leaving his lips as he sighs.

You crawl on top of him, straddling his lap, smiling sweetly.

“Hmm?”

You don’t wait for him to reply, tilting your head to meet your lips against his plush ones.

Rhaegar is on fire. you are certain, His blood heats up at your touch as you sense him descend further and further into the kiss. He’s so open, desperate, and wanting. His red and black robes bristle and rustle against the grass as he moans out and squirms. You press down further as his hands find your waist.

He’s a sight, red flushed against his pale skin, indigo eyes staring at you, mesmerized, and glossy-lipped. The forest behind him. From this angle, he looks every bit of a wench from the novels you have seen him read in his chambers in privacy.

You rock your hips, and he groans. The fabric creates a barrier that somehow intensifies the pleasure rather than inhibiting it.

“You even moan like one.” You open button down his tunic and toss out his robes. The sunlight kissing his pale skin, you watch the flush travel to his lithe chest.

Hands travel down his naked body, your digits toying with his nipples. They look so supple, hard, and slightly puffed. A wicked idea takes over you.

“How does it feel?” gently squeezing his nipple.

Rhaegar throws his head back. “Tickles.”

“Ah,t.” He groans as you rub circles gently with both of your hands on each nipple.

He bucks his hips up.

“Ah…”

“Sensitive?’

He moans.

“Want me to continue?”

He stutters out a barely coherent, please.

You take him in your mouth. The foreign feel of his soft, round nipples gives you pleasure as you suckle them, quietly flicking.

Rhaegar has stilled, only gasps of his breath reverberate in the forest.

You stay attacking his chest, languid as your tongue latches on him, messy and mean in its sucking. Payback for what he does to you.

His hand reaches your back, digging into your hips as he mewls loudly, unable to stop as you rock your hips against his while playing with his chest.

“Please, please.” His repeats your name like a prayer. Bucking his hips up like an animal in heat.

“If you had a cunt and a womb, I promise you, you would’ve never walked a day without it being swollen.” Rhaegar nods, fervent.

“N-never, I would-“

“Do you wish it?” Your movements become quicker, the squelching noises sending pleasure down your spine.

“I do, gods, I would carry, I would-“

“How many?”

“As many- until I”

“Until your feet hurt and you stay debauched, swollen, and needy for me, every night?”

You see tears prick rhaegar’s eyes, he’s close.

“I’d never let you touch the moon tea. Ever.”

“N-never.”  He groans as you halt your movement.

“Off.” You command, referencing his breeches.

He complies quickly, sitting up to kiss you as his cock springs out.

You smirk at the length, the rosy color making it look almost endearing.

“Might wear robes of this color tomorrow.”

Despite his arousal, rhaegar manages to smile.

“I’d be most pleased to see it.”

Touching his chin, “filthy.” You remark.

“Let me touch you.”

“Not today.”

Rhaegar frowns.

“Why?”

“Today I wish to ride.”

He gasps as you toss him down to the grass. His naked body, covered his bruises, shivering slightly at the contact.

“Then so be it.” He whispers to no one.

You quickly rid yourself of your small clothes, making sure you remain nude as well, and straddle him, sinking down and groaning, both of you turning blank at the pleasure that overtakes.

“Fucking hell.”

“Move....” Rhaegar has his hand over his eyes, his other hand between his lips, he’s red like a cherry, and the sun makes the sweat on his body shimmer like gold as he shakes and quivers with every move you make on top of him.

You grab both of his hands and place it next to his head, lacing your fingers together as you tilt towards him, your breasts swollen and stopping just by his lips.

“Suck.” You instruct, and descend your breast into his mouth. Eyes rolling back at the heat that engulfs your nipple, your movements turning animalistic.

Heaven was so hot it felt like the flames of hell. As if the fourteen flames have bloomed within you. The heat of the sun, his mouth, his cock, your cunt. The sweet music of your moans intermixing, it was too much, too fucking much.

Your knees buckled after a few moments and Rhaegar sat up immediately, holding you and kissing you mercilessly as you rode him in his lap, almost growling and tearing into his hair, ruffling it up and scratching his back with your other hand at the feeling of his hands all over you, pressing down at your belly.

With a loud moan and a whimper, the two of you collided and met your high, stilling amidst your kiss as you felt each other release in each other, quietly mumbling each other’s names.

You felt him drip down your legs. Soaking in the pleasure, you open your eyes to see him and gasp at the beauty that is Rhaegar Targaryen. His eyes were blown wide open, pretty white lashes and red face, messy hair, and his pouty lips, begging to kiss you more and more.

The two of you just looked at each other, and then, a chuckle left you at the same time.

“We are animals.” He starts as he lies down, with you climbing on his chest.

“Indeed. Two pretty animals mating in the wild.” You begin putting flowers in his hair. daffodils, forget-me-nots, heliotropes, and tulips.

He hums.

“No one else I’d rather mate with.”

“Not even your harp?”

He laughs.

“The poor thing’s probably traumatized by now, the things we do, the filth we speak.” He glances at the harp resting quietly below the tree, long forgotten.

“Rhae?”

“Hmm?”

“Pick up some tansy when we leave, I need to brew the tea.”

He blushes furiously, nodding as the breeze picks up.

[dr-spectre]

Splatoon Fighting Game Ideas.

Y'all, hear me out on this.... I've had this idea for a while now...

A Splatoon fighting game based on the gameplay style of Marvel vs Capcom and other team based fighting games.... You swap between three characters and the roster includes the Idols, Agents, some of the villains and other characters. And there's a special meter with 3 levels and cinematic hyper combos inspired by Final Smashes from Smash Bros. Ultimate.

Like if Nintendo wants to expand the Splatoon franchise, they need to make spin offs dude and a fighting game would be incredible, that's all I'm saying. And you know what? I'm gonna go over the roster and talk what i would do if i was in charge in making a Splatoon fighting game and you can't stop me!!!!!!! If you don't get the fighting game terms that will be in this post then look them up. I also won't go into SUPER DUPER detail and just go over general things i would do.

Also also, i haven't played every single fighting game in existence and I'm just basing it off of the games I've played (Street Fighter, Capcom vs series, Smash Bros for reference.) Without further ado, let's get into it.

Callie

I can imagine Callie's playstyle to be a powerhouse, someone who gets up close and just deals a ton of damage. but she has exploitable weaknesses like slow moves that have a lot of recovery time. She uses a themed Dynamo Roller based on her and can do air combos mixed in with Splat Bombs. Some of her moves also take inspiration from her dance moves found in her Amiibo performances and Bomb Rush Blush remix in Splatoon 2. Callie is a chaotic fighter who is unpredictable and moves pretty damn fast. Her max hyper combo could be her spamming every bomb from every game in the series at the opponent as Bomb Rush Blush plays. She then rushes to the opponent and swings her roller around at insane speeds, it then ends with her slamming the roller into the opponent like a baseball bat, sending them flying into the horizon and she does her "Stay Fresh!" pose to finish it off. Her main taunt is her facing the camera, doing her iconic pose and then giggling while her covering her mouth.

Marie

Marie could be a zoner that uses her Hero Charger and her parasol when doing close courters attack. Heck it could be her shield too. I would imagine her combos to be very hard to pull off as her shots are slow and you need to time the attacks just right so that you can keep your opponent in the air and deal as much damage as you can. Her max hyper combo could be running you over with the Sheldon truck that appears in Splatoon 2 to start the combo, then she gets onto the truck and snipes you with a barrage of shots until finally jumping off the truck with Sheldon. And then the truck collides with you and explodes in a giant green explosion. Her main taunt is her facing the screen, giving a thumbs down while blowing a raspberry. She then chuckles while doing her classic grin.

Pearl

Pearl could be a rushdown like character where she is incredibly fast with her themed dualies and is just a general pain to deal with. She can also turn into her drone form when in the air to slow down her descent and trick opponents up. Imagine how fun it would be to play as her and just dash around and be an annoying little shit. Her max hyper combo would be of course her Princess Cannon, she slams it down on the ground and if you get hit, you'll be trapped in the combo and Pearl will scream her lungs off like she did in Octo Expansion and Side Order. Her main taunt is her pulling out a megaphone and screaming at the screen.

Marina

Marina is a character who's all about machinery and hacking and i think she would fit the trapper archetype pretty well. While she wields a Splat Brella to deal close range damage, she mainly uses traps like ink mines, sprinklers, and machinery to get enemies and string together combos. She is a very hard character to master, but those who love the trapper archetype will LOVE playing her and find her incredibly fun. Maybe you can trap an opponent with Marina and then bring in Pearl to deal some quick damage. Her max hyper combo could be transforming into her Order outfit and floating in the air while holding her keytar. She locks onto you and then fires off a barrage of ink blobs, Super Chumps and her Hyperbombs while jamming out. The combo ends in a giant teal explosion and Marina returning to her normal self, awkwardly laughing off the chaos she just caused. Her main taunt is her giving an embarrassed smile and wave at the screen.

Shiver

Shiver would be a footsies/brawler type character and be good on the ground and moving around, however she doesn't have a good air game and crumbles in the air. She uses a modified version of her sensu fan that she uses in Splatfests to poke at enemies and slash at them like a blade. She also uses a Tri-Stringer to do anti air attacks to stop opponents from attempting an air attack on her. Shiver is all about reading opponents and punishing them for messing up. Her max hyper combo would be her doing a small performance like what she does in Splatfests which causes Fizzbangs to spawn around the opponent and do damage. Shiver then quickly becomes more wild eyed and summons Master Mega. She rides on him and collides with the enemy which causes a massive explosion. Shiver jumps away at the last possible second and stumbles into a backflip because she's both a girlboss and girlfailure. Her main taunt is her arching her back and laughing like a maniac before quickly snapping back and gaining back her composure.

Frye

Frye would 100% be a glass cannon, someone who's amazing at damage but crumbles when getting hit. She uses a themed Splatana Stamper to whack enemies and it has pretty decent range for a sword. However it has a mechanic where it deals less damage if you hit opponents with the base of the Splatana, so you must be precise and hit opponents with the tip to deal the most amount of damage. Her max hyper combo is her calling her eels with her flute. Frye starts spinning around which creates a huge tornado of eels. The tornado flies at the opponent and sucks them into a barrage of eels, the tornado subsides and Frye looks down at the fallen opponent and laughs while striking a pose. Her main taunt is her sitting on the ground cross legged and looking very annoyed. This taunt lasts forever until Frye gets hit or you press a button.

Big Man

Big Man would be the grappler archetype where he must get up close to his opponent and use command grabs and other moves to deal damage. He can also throw out Splat Bombs and bellyflop in the air. His max hyper combo is him covering himself in ink and spawning copies of himself, the copies surround the opponent in a circle and all charge towards them. It ends with Big Man jumping onto the clones until he reaches the top, and then he does a giant bellyflop onto the opponent which causes a huge wave of ink. His main taunt is him facing the screen and jumping up and down to get your attention.

DJ Octavio

DJ Octavio would be a heavyweight and have incredible damage and decent speed, but his hitbox would be massive and he's easy to combo. However his mech is shrunken down from it's Splatoon 1 size for balancing reasons of course. Octavio would use a mix of his retractable fists, Octorpedos and send out Octotroopers of different variety that run on the ground. If you have played Marvel vs Capcom and played as the characters Sentinel and Tron Bonne then he's pretty similar to them. His max hyper combo is him sucking up the Great Zapfish into his mech which engulfs it in a huge electric glow. Several more retractable arms made out of electricity appear from the back of his mech and charge up. They attack the opponent in the melody of the Onward! jingle, with the last punch creating a giant electric blast, causing Octavio to laugh manically. The opponent flies into the air and the fists all gather in front of the mech to charge up a giant killer wail, blasting the opponent away. His main taunt would be him dancing to his theme song. He does some DJ hand poses with his mech arms alongside this.

Mr. Grizz

Mr. Grizz is both a heavyweight and zoner, using his claws to send out waves of purple ink. He can also summon Fuzzy Octohoppers and Octocopters to throw out bombs and splashes of ink. His regular close courter attacks are slow but they deal a fair amount of damage too. He can even teleport away by sinking into the floor and reappearing on the other side of the enemy. His max hyper combo would be him standing above the opponent and laughing as he carries the rocket seen at the end of Splatoon 3 ROTM. He throws it down at the opponent and it explodes, causing a giant fluffy explosion that's seen from outer space. His main taunt is him playing around with some glass vials containing the fuzzy ooze.

Overlorder

Overlorder would be a glass cannon character but they would need to be obviously shrunken down because well... they are fucking massive. They would play sort of like Venom in the Marvel vs Capcom games where they use black ink and tentacles to send enemies into the air and do devastating damage. It can even send out Reefsliders as powerful air launchers. Their max hyper combo would be them Grayscaling and glitching out everything, Overlorder then grabs the enemy and drags them across on the floor. They are then trapped in a Jelleton portal and spiraled upwards. The portal then explodes with glitchy effects, Overlorder then says "grayscaling completed..." Their main taunt is them facing the screen and glitching it out for a brief period to scare players.

Captain 3

Captain 3 would be an all arounder and perfect for beginners, they don't have any real obvious strengths and weaknesses but they can get the job done in a lot of areas fairly decently. They would obviously wield their Hero Shot and pack some Autobombs for range. They also use a Hero Slosher, Roller and Blaster for specific moves and combos. Their max hyper combo would them standing on the UFO that appears in the Inner Agent 3 battle and they stare down at you. They dive down and do a Splashdown, launching the opponent into the air, they use the Bubble Blower special and causally chuck a Splat Bomb when the opponent lands on the ground. The opponent is sent crashing into a wall from the huge blast and is completely stunned, then Captain 3 stares them down and picks up the treasure they used in Splatoon 3 ROTM and cracks a small smile. They tear up the opponent and it cuts to white. Their main taunt is them facing the camera and doing the hand movements they do when posing with the Squid Sisters. A little booyah appears at the top of their head too.

Agent 4

Agent 4 is a clone of Captain 3, but focuses more on being aggressive and their moves have a Splatoon 2 theme to them. So instead of Splatoon 1 Hero Mode weapons, it's Splatoon 2's. Agent 4 is like Ken and Captain 3 is Ryu if you understand what I'm trying to say. Their max hyper combo would be them grabbing a Rainmaker and charging towards the opponent, they fire off 4 Rainmaker shots that send the opponent flying into the air. Agent 4 leaps up high and then SLAMS the rainmaker onto the enemy, smashing them to the ground which causes a huge explosion. Their main taunt is them pulling out a mini zapfish plush and snuggling it for a second and then putting it back.

Agent 8

Agent 8 is vastly different compared to Captain 3 and Agent 4 and focuses more on defense and mobility. They have a lot of tricks up their sleeve when it comes to weaponry and main the Octo Brush for most of their moves. They also wield an Octo Shot and E-Liter 4K for range. Agent 8 is a nimble fighter and highly technical which gives them a noticeable skill gap compared to the other agents. Their max hyper combo is them clasping their hands together and closing their eyes. Color chips circle them and Agent 8 floats into the air. The chips go inside them Super Sonic style and Agent 8 is engulfed in a rainbow aura. Agent 8 pulls out their Octo Shot, dash down to the opponent and uppercut them. They swarm the airborne opponent and do rapid fire shots with the Octo Shot. Just before the opponent reaches the ground, Agent 8 spins around and SMACKS them with the Octo Brush, sending them flying into the sky. A giant 8 firework appears in the sky and Agent 8 takes a selfie. Their main taunt is them taking a picture at the screen and giving a thumbs up.

Neo Agent 3

Neo Agent 3 would be the most interesting out of the agents as they would be the puppet archetype with Smallfry being the puppet. During certain combos or inputting a certain command, Smallfry will be sent out and will copy some of your moves. If Neo Agent 3 does a series of punches and kicks for example, Smallfry will move their body in the air like they are a flying blade. (Think of Rosalina and Luma in Smash Bros.) Heck in some moves Neo Agent 3 will chuck Smallfry at enemies and it'll latch onto them and deal damage over time for a little while. Their max hyper combo would them being in space and holding out Smallfry in their hands. They crack a smile and Smallfry floats into the air, they glow a bright blue and transform into Hugefry. It then shoots itself towards the opponent while dragging a tsunami, the opponent is sent flying into space from the force of the wave from Hugefry. Their main taunt is them pulling out an ink bag and drinking it. They wipe their face and pat their belly after they guzzle down the ink.

Harmony

Harmony is a trapper character just like Marina where she has different gadgets to trick up opponents, she's also sort of a joke character as her moves are more comedic and is a character to use if you wanna mess around and have some fun. She can use her Ultra Hand to grab enemies from afar and reel them in for a command grab. She uses a Wii Remote and Nunchuk for air attacks, a GameCube console as a weapon because it has a handle on it, an N64 controller as a boomerang attack and she even chucks Game Boys at opponents that go in an arc. Her max hyper combo is her getting the band Chirpy Chips, going on stage and jamming out to a random song made by them. Sound waves and notes collide with the opponent, dealing damage. The sound waves and energy form into a giant Game Boy and the giant console collapses onto the opponent (think of that one Donkey Kong Land commercial. You know the one.) Her main taunt would be her sitting on the floor and playing with an Ultra Hand like how she does in Hotlantis. There's even a rare chance for her to play with a Game Boy instead.

Acht

Figuring out a moveset for Acht was surprisingly difficult but i have thought of some ideas for them. Acht would be a martial artist and be the most standard character out of the roster. They don't wield any weapons but can do lots of different punches and rapid fire kicks that have ink effects to them to spice it up. They can also throw out vinyl records at opponents which act as air launchers. Their max hyper combo is them getting on stage and playing around with some turntables. They increase the volume and Acht gets covered in a blue and red aura. Acht leaps over the turntables and strikes through the opponent multiple times like a ricocheting bullet. Acht flies into the air and their right hand is covered in a blood red aura. They slam into the ground and punch the opponent with a ton of force. Their main taunt is them listening to music on their headphones and moving along with the music. Depending on the stage music, their head movements will match the speed of the song.

Stage Ideas

Inkopolis Plaza (day and night variants, if Callie or Marie aren't selected, they'll perform behind you on their trucks)

Inkopolis Square (day and nights variants, same thing with Pearl Marina)

Splatsville (day and night variants, Deep Cut will perform if they aren't picked)

Urchin Underpass

Moray Towers

Starfish Mainstage

Goby Arena

Marlin Airport

Undertow Spillway

Octo Valley

Enter the Octobot King!

Octo Canyon

The Crater

Alterna - Future Utopia Island

Ruins of Ark Polaris

Lost Outpost

Bonerattle Arena

Shifty Station (general Shifty Station area that combines different aspects of all of them)

MC. Princess Diaries (NILS Statue is in the background along with Commander Tartar as a cameo)

Floor 30 (Overlorder will be in the background watching the fight if not selected)

I also wanna quickly add that each fighter would have plenty of alt outfits too and some have different animations and effects.

Some examples are, Callie in her Octo outfit, Marie in her Alterna outfit, Pearl in her big ol' space jacket she has in Side Order, Marina in her Octo Expansion clothes, Shiver in her Splatoween attire, Frye wearing a school uniform, Big Man wearing his Ian BGM disguise, DJ Octavio in his Octobot King L3.Gs mech, Mr. Grizz with a wooden texture, Overlorder but a white color pallet that references Smollusk, Agent 4 with their Parallel Canon design, etc. Maybe some of the characters could also get looks from their concept art too.

So that is it for my Splatoon fighting game ideas! If you have any ideas of your own like a moveset for Commander Tartar because jesus christ how the HELL do you make a moveset for a literal telephone, then let me know!

I'm curious to see what you guys think and what some of your own ideas are!

[ivystoryweaver]

Jingle Bells

Summary: Santiago is a flirty cute dork and you can’t stop me

Pairing: Santiago Garcia from Triple Frontier x gn!reader

Word Count: 800

Content: fluff, mentions of Christmas songs (but story doesn’t indicate what Santiago or reader celebrate, if anything), not beta’d

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"That'll be $73.07," you mumble to your customer, waiting as she runs her credit card through the machine before handing her a receipt.

Twelve hours on the cash wrap at work, scanning grocery item after item, dealing with faulty coupons, the holiday rush and fussy customers. Your feet are sore and you're dying to get off your shift in thirty minutes.

You picked up back-to-back shifts to pay for a plumbing bill your landlord refused to cover.

"Plumbing is the responsibility of the tenant," he groused at you last week. "Read your lease."

Without even a glance, your hand reaches to scan the next customer's items.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Happy holidays," a soothing tenor voice greets you.

"Happy holida - " You trip over your monotonous reply when your eyes meet the most beautiful man you've ever seen in person.

Sparkling brown eyes dance underneath thick eyebrows, arched in playful curiosity. A sprinkling of gray dusts his dark curly hair.

"Hi," he greets you, chomping playfully on his gum, which draws attention to the curve of luscious, full lips and the sexy stubble on his chin.

"Good afternoon," you manage, reminding yourself to continue scanning his groceries.

"Afternoon?" He shoots back, nodding toward the darkened windows at the front of the store. "It's 9:15."

"Oh. Right," you sheepishly chuckle.

"Long day?" the handsome man genuinely questions.

Your first instinct is to shrug him off with the run-of-the-mill small talk that comes as naturally as breathing to you, as a cashier.

But something happens - a contradiction that has your heart tripping over itself.

His eyebrows shift curiously, like a puppy, while, at the same time, a smug smirk curls the corner of that mouth.

"Uhh, yes," you admit, pausing, "the longest."

"I'm sorry," he sincerely returns, reaching to swipe his next grocery item for you. "Must be busy this time of year."

"Oh, god...sorry," you stammer, reaching to finish up his order.

"'S okay," he shrugs one shoulder. "You gonna be able to get out of here soon?"

"Not soon enough," you joke. "If I hear 'Jingle Bells' one more time, I can't be held responsible for my actions."

"Hmm," he nods and then he sings, "Dashing through the snow in a one-horse open sleeeiigghh..."

"Nooo, please stop," you find yourself laughing. Out loud. When was the last time you laughed?

"Are you sure? Because I do all the hits. Siiiilent niiiight - "

"Oh my god," you giggle, "you have a terrible voice."

He pretends to be offended, "Is this how you treat all your customers?" The corners of his warm brown eyes crinkle with amusement, letting you know he's still teasing. "Because if you smile at everybody like that, you must be the best cashier in this place."

"Could you hurry it up?" A grouchy customer behind this gorgeous man interjects, almost bouncing on her toes.

And just like that, you're deflated. This is why you don't waste your time caring. No point, no time to truly connect. Everyone is in such a damn hurry, especially this time of year.

"Sorry," you mumble, flustered as you start to bag the man's groceries.

"Hi, I'm Santiago," he greets the grinch behind him. "And this is... " he glances back at you, reading off your name tag. "Been a long day. Just trying make 'em smile. I'll get out of your way."

He flashes a stunning, yet disarming smile and the woman falters.

"Oh. I-it's okay."

"Thanks," he nods, shifting his attention back to you.

You give him the total. “Hang in there,” he winks. “Bet this place would fall apart without you.”

He leaves you stupefied, but smiling.

You can’t even remember the last time someone showed kindness and warmth to you, a simple cashier - let alone made you laugh.

The remaining 27 minutes of your shift feel a little lighter.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

One week later…

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Dashing through the snoooowww…”

Your eyes snap up to find Mr. Handsome next in your checkout line.

“This is gonna get awkward if you don’t remember me.” His dark eyebrows shoot up questioningly.

“Santiago…right?” Your cheeks feel warm as he flashes you that smile.

“Guilty,” he chuckles. “I really am dying to see what happens when ‘Jingle Bells’ pushes you over the edge.”

“Don’t try me,” you laugh, scanning his grocery items. "Nobody wants me to lose control in here."

"Maybe somewhere else then," he cooly suggests, with the cutest eyebrow wiggle. "Maybe a restaurant? Or a bar? We could grab a drink when you get off?"

Your mouth drops open. "That...was..."

"Pretty smooth, right?" He grins. "Yeah, I've found that singing off key holiday songs is the way to go."

You laugh for about the twentieth time since you met Santiago.

And you go for that drink.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

1k/Holiday Celebration Main Post

1000 Follower/Holiday Celebration Masterlist

Miscellaneous Characters Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Follow @ivystoryupdates and turn on notifications to never miss an update

Join my tag list - for chaptered fics and short stories only

[fairytsuk1]

getting katsuki gifts for the holidays was like trying to teach a monkey to dance, it was impossible.

you'd whined, mumbling about how the two of you had enough money to buy most items you wanted; katsuki also never seemed to never ask for things specifically.

"so, katsuki... the holidays are coming up!"

he's picking at his ordered in take-out, and you can see his displeasure at the lack of peppers as he picks through his kung pao chicken.

"yeah, already got your gift," and he's giving you smirk that makes you sweat, "are you sure you got the right chicken? this shit tastes like the fuckin' kids menu."

your eyes get caught on the wedding band wrung around his fingers, sailing the veins of his forearm till you can see his bulging biceps in the black muscle shirt. was your husband hand-carved by gods? seemed likely.

"mmm, no, it should be the kung pao chicken, want me to chop some chilies up for you?"

you're standing before he can protest, taking out your knives and chopping boards, "and you already have my gift? I don't have your gift, yet."

the box of take-out is set down as your husband circles his arm around your waist to leave soft kisses on the column of your neck.

"yeah, 'cause you don't love me," and a thankful hand squeezes your ass just to show his appreciation for the chopping of chilies, "...whatcha gonna get me?"

his hands are still wandering, and you're thinking more of what his talented fingers could do than his stupid gift, "i'm not supposed to tell, you know. santa's elves might get me into a whole lotta trouble."

he gropes you even more fiercely, and you can feel his pressing need against your back.

"fuck santa,"

he carries you off in a fit of giggles to your shared bedroom.

-

the bookstore was fairly crowded and you felt thankful you could slip by unnoticed and browse the various books of romance or sci-fi; katsuki didn't even seem like a sci-fi guy so each row left you feeling panicky and like a bad wife the further and further you went.

"excuse me, do you have any classical romance?"

the timbre of the voice makes your heart stop. It sounded just like, well, katsuki! your legs are thrumming with the knee-jerk reaction to tackle him to the ground, but you were literally buying his gift! the surprise would be ruined, and you're dashing into the row of cookbooks to calm yourself.

maybe it's not even him. you know what they say, just because it sounds like katsuki doesn't mean it is! you're affirming yourself silently when footsteps grow close, and your husband is flashing by you in seconds.

it is katsuki!

"i'm fucked."

your eyes follow the object of your love, his strong hands randomly pick books out of nowhere, but there's grumbles of displeasure as he skims the summary and grimaces at the cover. he didn't know that much about books, but you deserved something special.

you'd dealt with all the hero stuff (being gone for long periods of time and coming home nearly dead was no news to you), always made him lunch or dinner, and frankly... katsuki found his eyes drifting to a sleeping baby in its stroller.

he'd started thinking more like that. so the gift had to be pretty damn good!

a man strikes up conversation, and you smile at the idea that katsuki wasn't just factually married, but he gave that aura too. yeah, that was your man.

"i'm shoppin' for my wife," straight to the point and he's already grumbling at having to interact with this person for more than a minute.

"wow! a true husband, what's with the books then? looking to open your marriage?"

it's a joke that katsuki doesn't find funny, you do however and you're sure this conversation would be going very differently.

"fuck no. i'm just lookin' for somethin' good," there's a brief pause in his words, and katsuki looks askance at having to provide a reason why, "she does a lot for me. want her to know I appreciate it."

a beating heart is soothed by the words. your hormones run wild at his mild love declaration, and you're grinning like a mad man.

katsuki wakes up on christmas morning to find his absolute favorite thing; you.

and the book he got was pretty damn good, too.