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anomaly-hivemind · 2 months ago

Text

We’ll meet again || Double penetration in one hole and public w/ Bill cipher x fem reader

Word Count: 1993

Masterlist

Tag: Double penetration in one hole, vaginal sex, Exhibitionism, public, Overstimulation, dubcon

Note: The reader is slightly black-coded. Nickname is Dimples or honey lips

You got a full time job at this mystery shack in the middle of the forest. You had been working there for maybe a total of three months with little to no issues, until it became the start of the summer. Then came two young kids and all the oddities that seem to have started when they got there. Staying with their Grunkle which was also your boss, you got to know everyone well.

“Hey Y/N do you mind watching over the shack for me for a few hours, I’m taking Mable and Dipper out for a bit” Stan said while already basically out the door so you just nod. It was a long slow hour of nothingness, maybe an old lady or two but nothing interesting to make you pay attention to anything.

“So one save me from this boredom,” You groan and rub your forehead. You could only play with pens and paper clips for so long. You heard a ring and turned to face the door, but there wasn’t anyone around as far as you could tell.

“I’ve only seen you around recently how fun” A voice behind you makes you turn to it with wide eyes and you lean against the register. A guy who didn't really seem all there was standing behind the counter with you. ‘Where did this bum come from, how the fuck did he get behind you in th first place.’ You thought with a panic as you looked at the unnatural yellow glow in his eyes and felt like he was peering into your soul nonconsensually might you add.

“Sir you can’t be behind the counter” You try to keep a kind voice in hope to not upset the potential crackhead that had wandered into the mystery slack.

“BuUt I came to answer your pleas of boredom dimples. definitely not to find something of importance. ” He spoke dramatically before mumbling something under his breath.

“My what now.. Sir please just set back into being in front of the counter.” Instead of doing what you asked, he took a step closer and unfortunately for you that ass of yours was not moving any closer to the register than you already were.

He moved his arms on both sides of you and smiled an uncanny smile that made you shiver. Next thing you know you are moving onto the counter to escape his attempt to trap you. Like hell were you gonna get murdered by some random probably drunk stranger for drug money. You liked it here but not enough to get yourself killed and mutilated for it.

“That tremble of yours is pretty cute Honey lips, filling my head with all kinds of things.” you make a run to the door but before you could open it the yellow eyed guy stood in front of the door blocking the fastest exit out.

The room felt cold and shaped all of sudden and you felt like you were a deer in headlights. You couldn't move anything but move your head which is what tipped you off that this was no normal paralysis.

“What the hell did you do to me!” You yelled at him in a concerned voice. The guy uses your stuck body to lean against your shoulder.

“You have a pleasing meatsuit Dimples.” he whispered in your ear.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?!” your voice got shaky as you tried to keep the confidence you definitely didn’t have right now.

“Name’s Bill! But you can call me your new lord and master for all of eternity!” The guy’s body drops to the ground in front of you and out comes a bright yellow triangle with one eye and a top hat pops up in his place floating around. “Oh so i’m tripping balls right now, inhaling the wrong type of air that's what going on right now.”

“I am very real despite what that simple brain of yours thinks.” he rolls his eye at you as he flies around you in a close circle.

“You are nuts.” you shake your head, who would have thought that your mundane need to cure your boredom would lead to… well whatever this was right now.

“Well it's not my fault your corrupt mind brought my attention, so what was it you wanted Dimples.” you don't answer so he speaks again.

“Entertainment was it, well honey lips consider me willing to entertain…But in exchange you gotta entertain me.”

“How would i do that” you felt dumb even entertaining this Dorito thing.

“How ‘bout I reverse the functions of every hole on your face.” his eyes smiled or so that's what you think his face was doin at least.

“How about no.”

“No fun boo, mhm how about something we both can enjoy” He had his hand in front of his face where his chin would have had if he wasn’t, well if he wasn’t a triangle.

“Like what?”

“You'll just have to take the chance and Trust me.” There was a slight giggled that came from his lip face. his hand lit up in a blue fire and you realized you could move again.

“But why are you doing this?” you tried to ask but he only gives you a cryptic answer.

“Boredom is my worst enemy, so I'm here to save you,” he said loudly.

You were definitely going to regret this lapse in judgment you were about to have. You raised your hand and shook the demon's hand with great hesitation. ‘Was I fucking stupid, i gotta be brain dead to shake the hand of a demon who gave me vague information of his probably dangerous arrangement i agreed to already. Sign my life way I guess.’

He snapped his fingers and your clothes were gone, you let out a shrill as you covered the important bits the best you could.

“No amount of gold on earth can buy originality…but you're come close enough.” Move your arms away.

You felt very exposed, you were naked in your work space in front of this triangle being of unknown origins. You were in the middle of the room and anybody could come inside the place, hell Stan and the kids could come back at any time then next thing you know it you’re a register offender. You could only hope that what this chip shaped man demon thing had in planned for you wouldn’t last that long.

In a flash Bill grows a body and keeps his triangle head that has changed into a pyramid. He was also equally as naked as you are, Plus he looked Hot to add to it. You look him up and down but your eyes get stuck on a thing well two things actually. Two dark cocks that were long and thick at his base, erect and twitching. You were staring at them and you were drooling a bit. It was embarrassing.

“This form pique your interest?” He stroked himself slowly as if he was giving a show for you. You don’t catch yourself nodding to his question and before you know it he is up against you, dick touching you everytime he curves it in a stroke. He moved you closer to the counter, your bare ass touching the desk.

“Let's get started, Honey lips.” he rubbed the tips over your fold and let out a funny happy sounding noise.

“So wet already~ who would have thought you could be so needy and wanting.” he pushed one of his veiny cocks into you, all the way to in until kissed it on your cervix. You let out a loud squeal like moan as you arched your back. There was no way you were going to cum, not from him just sliding into you…right.

“Feel free to cum at any time, I'm super giving Dimples.” he started to move his hips, your pussy regards no shame as it makes wet squelches as he tickles your g-spot. Your hole sucking in him it's making you feel like a slut.

“Fuckin… Ah~” you feel your legs start to shake from his mean pace inside of you. Bill starts to push his other cockhead and you clench around them. You cum around them as soon as he pushes the other one all the way inside as well. Stretching you out like never before, it felt like you were touching stars.

You have no time to recover from his movement because he doesn't stop, letting out a groan and mumbling to himself about how snug your pussy felt around him. Your ears burn as he teases you for cumming so fast and mentioning how he was just getting started with you. He starts to push almost all the way out before ramming back into out then repeating. Your eyes start to water as you reach another climax right after the other.

“You are mighty easy to please Honey lips.” he groaned and pushed you over on the counter, you were now laying back on the cold desk in a daze as he held your legs up at his waist. Your walls flutter around the girth of the two dicks of his inside of you.

“I can’t take it!” you whine as you feel an orgasm number who knows you're not keeping track start to approach you.

“Limits only exist in the mind.” Bill rolled his hips at an odd angle that it was almost like his dicks were moving at different times. He gives a squeeze to your breast and you shiver.

He kept moving his hips in this devious way that was starting to make you spasm and moan. Bill moved his hand down your body and he started to play and tease your clit, the whole action makes you choke out a cry as you feel a pool of wet hit yours and his thighs. ‘Did I just?!’

“YOU DID?” He answers your thoughts with an overly happy tone that was embarrassing. He kept thrusting his hips into you and circling your clit and you impulse your legs shut. You didn't think you could cum anymore but this DEMON has proved that to not be true in the slightless.

“Can you try not to lose consciousness, it won't make me stop.” He spoke through breathy groans. Bill’s words make you clench around you again, you could see the specks of darkness forming in your vision but you try to shake them off.

He slammed his hips into you at a breathtaking pace, his was slower and harder and it literally took your breath out of your lungs with each thrust. You could feel him twitching in you, a dead give away that he was close to coming. His pace brought you back to another painful yet pleasuring orgasm, his hand went back to your clit to run a slow tight pattern on you.

His hips sputter and he comes in heavy thick ropes of cum, filling you up like a pie. Pools of his seed dripped out of you when he pulled out of you a bit too fast for comfort. You let out a quick whine.

“Your a fun time Dimples, really know how to keep up with me.” he changed back to his triangle form. You try to get up but the sudden movements make your ears ring and thighs send you any single they can. You look up at Dorito demon as he watches you struggle a bit.

“We’ll meet again, Honey lips.” his eye curls as his way of a smile, then he poofed out of nowhere.

Now you need to get some clothes before anyone sees you like this…And to wipe the cameras.

#gravity falls #bill cipher #book of bill #bill x reader #bill cipher smut #bill cipher x reader #smut #humanized bill cipher #humanoid or noid #humanoid bill cipher

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dadsbongos · 5 months ago

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mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy?

kink adventures tag 1.2 K words / warnings - mommy kink, stuckage, stepcest roleplay, p in v sex (unprotected), degradation? i think?

summary - tomura’s mental health and psychology is a nightmare which i thought should be highlighted here haha

~~~

"Honey!"

Wheels roll dully against the plastic mat beneath your boyfriend’s desk, then soft padding across carpet, then a twisted laugh, before finally the laundry room door creaks open. Brass handle thudding into the wall.

“What?”

Tomura’s tone is unusually callous, even downright bored, and you’d be offended if not for the sundress hanging around your spread thighs. Your precariously cramped waist between his dryer and the wall, and the budding anticipation swelling in your chest.

“Can you help me? I’m a little stuck…”

“Ugh,” with your head hanging, you can just barely peer at his socked feet behind you, he then falls to his knees. Sweatpants loose, a bulb growing more apparent at his groin. Uselessly his arms hang at his sides until they disappear up, two seconds later is the warmth of his palms on your hips, “Fine.”

You rock back towards him but make no other effort to slip from the gap, not that Tomura is actually pulling. He leans as if he is, and quiet, husky grunts leave his mouth as if he is, but the only difference in his hold is how he squeezes your love handles.

“How’d this even happen?” Tomura grumbles, one hand moving to the back of your neck and wrapping it with his hand to pull again, “You’re such a ditz, dunno how my dad married you.”

“Be nice!”

“Only thing you’re good for is…” he yanks you back, jerking your rear into his erection and grinding against you. His thumb brushes tenderly along the column of your throat, “I bet he doesn’t even give it to you right. Old, limp bastard,” he squeezes around the back of your neck, “You walk around here practically begging for it,” he sighs, “You’re meant to be a slut, not a housewife.”

“What’re you doing, Tomura?” you drawl your voice a little more shrill, kicking flaccidly at his thighs as he uses both hands to work down his pants. Knuckles scratching your skin, “Get me out!”

“I will,” he reaches beneath the soft, thin skirt of your dress to pull down your panties, “Gotta get you wet, add some friction, it’s pretty basic. Though, I guess someone like you wouldn’t understand that.”

Tomura is disturbingly good at the bratty step-son character.

Weirdly, it makes you push further into him.

Papping the flushed head of his cock against your slit, Tomura spreads you open with his tip, pouring into the way his girth is swallowed by your slick. Your back arches, chest burdening the floor, a soft whine escapes you, making Tomura reattach his hand on your neck. Palming your throat to use as leverage as he bucks inside you.

“Tomura,” you whine.

“Tenko.”

“Huh?”

As a distraction, you assume, Tomura thrusts until his thighs are clapping yours. He huffs and groans, “Call me Tenko.”

“Tenko,” you moan, his hand squeezing the sides of your neck, and the other wringing you back into him by your waist.

“Yeah, mommy?” surprise wavers your arousal again, “Something you need to say? Or do you just like squealing?”

“Tenko…?”

His chapped lips find your pulse, sucking and biting along your neck, tongue affectionately cooling his teeth marks. You feel as if you two should talk about this.

You also feel as if Tomura’s not in the talking mood.

You decide to temper your confusion for now, instead meeting him at every thrust.

“Mommy,” he whimpers, raking blunt nails along your hips, “So wet for me,” just to rub in the point, his hand on your neck flies under your dress and between your legs. Fingers dance along where his cock splits you open, glossing his fingers just to dangle in your face obnoxiously, “You like me that much?”

Tomura flips up the flowy skirt of your dress entirely, fake AC goodness melting away under frizzling, spastic energy. Slowly, he glides out of your cunt just to feel the slow suck and squeeze of your inside. Hot and gooey.

“What if he came home right now, huh?”

Yeah, what if?

You’d be exposed -- soaking and full of dick, chirping out little “ah, ah, ah!”s at Tomura’s demanding plunges. The taboo nature only makes you tighten around him, flinging a hand back to snag his loose shirt and wrangle him nigh on top of you. Vague buzzing flows from behind you, the raspy and teasing foundation of Tomura’s voice -- not that you’re listening. You’re smothering his sound with moans and whines of your own. Content to wail against the back wall of Tomura’s laundry room until he plucks you out from the gap by your neck.

“You listenin’?” he cackles, rolling you onto the cold laundry floor before lugging your thighs into his hands and gleefully listening to wheeze as he presses them to your chest. Dipping back into your plush cunt, Tomura hands his head and babbles lamely, “Tell me you need it, mommy. You want my cum, right? Tell me I can cum in you.”

“Want it so bad, baby,” you gasp and twitch under his newfound vigor, “Cum in me, cum for mommy.”

Heat flares in your face as you call yourself such a perverted title.

But you just can’t stop.

“Mommy loves your cock, honey.”

“Uh-huh?” Tomura’s cheeks are stained red, voice now dripping pathetic.

“Fucking mommy so well.”

“Uh-huh?” he inhales sharply, eyes clenched shut.

He stretches over you, muffling your next sentence by obsessively kissing your lips.

“Such a good boy.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh?” he mutters against your lips.

“Cum inside mommy, Tenko,” you coo, back arching off the floor.

“Ohmygod, fuck!” Tomura stills inside your cunt, eyes flying open as he heaves for breath -- cum spilling inside you, “Fuck me!”

He collapses onto you, releasing your legs to curl around him. You scratch through his shaggy hair silently, letting your eyes flutter closed. You allow yourself to bask in the moment before ‘spontaneously’ Remembering™.

. . .

“So…” you drawl, post euphoria glow fading way to curiosity, both natural and morbid, “Tenko?”

“I changed my name. A long time ago. I don’t go by Tenko anymore.”

“Obviously,” you sit up, elbows pitched against the hardwood floor. He can sense your upset, he must be able to because he’s pointedly ignoring your stare, “Tomura.”

“What?”

“Is there anything I should know about?” in his silence, you flood the room with more words, “I get it, if there’s something you’re not ready to share. I just don’t want you to think you have to keep anything from me. Or that, I dunno. I don’t like the idea of finding something out like this, but years down the line. Or from one of your friends. I don’t want to not know you.”

Tomura’s only response is a quiet, “You want to be together years down the line?”

“Yeah,” you’d feel ridiculous for the admission, if Tomura didn’t look more flustered than you felt, “But you should probably be more open with me, you know?”

“It’s nothing,” he sighs, shakes his head, and quickly continues before you can pout, “I just hated my given name, so I started going by Tomura in grade school. Had it legally changed a few years ago.”

“That’s all?”

“I don’t talk to my Dad. And not usually my mom. Sometimes my sister.”

“Okay,” you can faintly string those details altogether, laying back down, “Thanks for sharing.”

Tomura yawns with a small nod, tightening his arms around you, “Now you have to tell me something when I’m in my right mind.”

“Okay :3 ”

#bnha x reader #bnha x you #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura x reader #virgcore shiggy

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hazelfoureyes · 5 months ago

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A Doe in Fall (Part 8)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 📍 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie

Part 8 - Trust

Detective Brady is sharper than you initially thought, though Alastor is (seemingly) unfazed by the threat. While you both explore the idea of ‘home’ a familiar face shows up at your apartment.

「Warnings/Tags: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, Detective Brady exists a lot and maybe too much, fingering lol, phone calls, almost our first fight, stress, Disney mom rule, Ruth is pretty alright for now, Brenda」

forgot to tag you in the deleted scene for TRDFAHS

M👻D☠️N👽I😈

Your mother always said ‘Anger is your sword and shield’. So you postured yourself as someone mad. One hip out, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“Sir I don’t appreciate a man in a lady’s space.”

Brady bit his tongue, wanting to say something sharp.

I don’t see any ladies here.

He met the glares of the women behind you. “Ah, well-,”

“Do you really expect her to leave in her robe?”

“Aren’t you the man whose been stalking her?”

“Autumn I’ll go with you.”

“You want her to get into a strange man’s car?”

He felt like a fox about to be pecked to death by the hens.

“Now-! Alright I’m seeing I maybe,” he set your shoes down and slid past you and between the other performers, “got a little eager to speak to you.”

“Does Janet know you like to hang around burlesquers?” Someone said as his back was turned.

Like having ice water poured over his head, his shoulders tensed as did his tone. “I’ll be right out the door.”

You tried to hide the tremble in your hands, but failed. Ruth slid beside you, “What do you need?”

A phone. But the cord wouldn’t reach that far. You wanted to tell Alastor. You needed him to know that detective had you cornered and knew of his existence.

“Could you stay with me? I’m not going anywhere. But I’ll feel safer if I’m not talking to him alone. In case he tries to drag me out. He seems a little off his rocker.” You were genuinely scared he would grab you by the arm and pull you out of the theater if he didn’t think anyone would see.

She patted your back, the others filing in to continue with their work of getting dressed and undressed. You took your time, trying to plan what you would say.

Brady felt an embarrassed blush take hold as the women moved past him with scowls and tsks. He could feel a little bit of his sanity slip back now that you were in front of him.

“I have some questions about Tommy. I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks. We can head down now.”

Oddly, your mother also taught you, ‘You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.’

She didn’t always make a lot of sense, contradicting herself daily.

Time to use the tried and true tactic, “I am sorry, detective. I had some trouble recently and have been keeping to myself… going home as soon as possible. Just trying to keep my nose clean. So to speak.”

Brady watched you look up at him with a face his daughter often gave him when she was in trouble. But you weren’t a child and you surely weren’t his daughter. “That’s no excuse to dodge me.”

Your turn to bite your tongue, “Of course, sir.”

Ruth was… confused. She’d never seen you so obedient. You had more venom in your voice after taking a hit from Tommy knowing a third could be close behind. Why were you being so small?

“Are you ready to go?” He fished in his pocket for his car door keys.

Ruth felt the need to interject, “She’s not going anywhere.”

Perfect.

You nodded, “I won’t be out at night, sir. You know better than most about the dangers.” Your dangers. Your darling Alastor.

“No, no no,” an unhinged chuckle from the fraying detective, “You’re not slipping away again. I have my car, I’ll take you there and bring you home.”

Ruth looked to you, then back to the detective, “Is she under arrest?”

Brady rolled his eyes, “Of course not.”

“Then? What gives you the right?”

Technically, nothing. He didn’t need to talk to you. His lead still stood. But maybe you’d slip and say something to expedite his search for the radio man. Maybe this would only end with Tommy. But he felt something tickling the back of his skull. An urge to not stop pushing.

“I’ll meet you at the station tomorrow morning. Is it the address on the card you gave me?” Maybe you would, maybe you wouldn’t. You just needed him gone so you could call Alastor.

He was shaking his notebook, key looped onto his finger. A nervous habit. “You still have my card?”

A smile, “Of course. In case any news came up. I’d have called but I didn’t realize you were so worked up.”

He scoffed. He wasn’t worked up. He was just annoyed. Maybe a little rougher in demeanor than usual but whose fault was that?

“If you don’t turn up tomorrow-,”

Ruth, taller than most women and some men and wide at the shoulders, leaned in.

Brady’s eyeline adjusted from yours to Ruth’s. Skye Scraper wasn’t just a pun, it was a cruel nickname she took ownership of. “Finish that sentence.”

The conversation ended there, Brady leaving with a huff.

You’d memorized the number the night Alastor gave it to you, too scared to write it down. He warned you though he wouldn’t be the one to answer.

“Is Alastor still there?” You tried to smile so you sounded less panicked. Ruth mouthed his name and pretended to swoon as you held the phone close to your ear.

“Uhh depends, who is this?” Brenda answered, a voice you’d never heard but a woman Alastor had primed you for.

“….”, but why hadn’t you thought through this part, what name was safe? Which was recognizable? You didn’t like the idea of this woman knowing your name. “Tell him it’s Autumn.”

“….”

You laughed at Ruth, waiting still for a reply from Brenda, “Hello?”

“Is this a crank? Autumn like the season? I-,” a commotion, “Hey there! No. I don’t know. Well it’s past hours anywa-.”

Alastor was lying across Brenda’s desk to reach the phone, having wrestled it from the woman’s grip, “I’m here. What’s wrong? I was about to leave.”

“I’ll walk home tonight.” It hurt, physically hurt, to say it.

Alastor tried to keep his face neutral, “Oh.” Nervous fingers twirling the cord, “One second.”

Harsh whispers, some clicks, and he was back, “I’m in my office. What happened?”

“Yeah Ruth is with me. It’s okay. I’ll call you like normal tomorrow?”

“Should I swing by your apartment?” He considered doing it regardless of your answer.

“Ah, no. I wouldn’t recommend it. I’ll be heading to the police station early tomorrow so I’ll be asleep as soon as I’m flat.” Putting your hand over the receiver, you spoke to Ruth, “Thank you, we got it figured out.”

His heart sank to his stomach, “Did he finally manage to catch you?”

“Yeah. Or—-,” your voice cracked a little, the fear rolling in as soon as Ruth walked away, “Yeah.”

“I’m coming over to the theater.”

Cupping the phone you curved your shoulders in and turned away from the staff milling about, “Don’t, that’s worse.” Tears stung your eyes. You felt like you’d failed him. You had somehow, hadn’t you? The loose thread Brady could grab ahold of was you.

“If you can’t come to the alley I’ll leave after a couple minutes. But I’ll be there in twenty, same time as our normal pick up.”

“Alastor, that’s reckless.”

“Please, dear, I don’t want our first fight to be over my work line.” A calming breath, “You don’t have to meet me, but I’ll be there. Just five minutes, then I’ll be off.”

You decided the safest thing to do was to wait in the alley. If you saw any signs of Brady or anyone coming out, you’d go back inside and just miss the meeting. But the idea of Alastor being just beyond the wall, waiting all alone, was too much.

But how much harder would it be if the wall was of the prison? Or worse, dense earth under your feet? That’s what Brady was wanting.

You hadn’t realized you’d been chewing your nails until his car turned down the alley from the back and you tore off much of the length of your thumbnail.

Your arms were thrown around him before he was fully out of the car, “Alastor, he knows I have a guy. He wanted me to go down right now but I managed to push it to tomorrow.” Alastor tried to decipher the words as you spoke them into his vest, “What do I do?”

Normally you’d have your own plans in mind but this was too big, this was capable of hurting him more than anyone else.

He smelled like ink and smoke, a scent you inhaled as you tried to calm your breath.

A large hand patted your head, “Okay. You go tomorrow. It’ll be fine. Don’t stress.” Pulling you off he placed chaste kisses across your face. “Think about what you want to say to him and we can talk it out in the morning. Everything is fine.”

The reality of you standing in a dirty alley crying into the arms of a murderer set in. Then the little detail you were both killers creeped over your chest and took hold of your throat.

He was impressed at the strength of your hands as you gripped at his clothes. Leaning against the car, he offered you his most charming smile.

“Deep breaths, dear. Do I look scared?”

He didn’t. He looked like a magazine ad for French cologne or razor blades that left the softest skin.

“No.” You shook your head.

“No.” He nodded. “It’ll be okay. If you don’t go, he will hound you worse. If you do go, maybe he’ll realize he’s got a handful of nothing.”

His smile blinded you. Bright grin as he rested against his car, arms open.

“Do you really think so? A handful of nothing?”

“Did he say my name?”

“No.”

“Did he–” he elongated the word, lips pursed as he searched the sky for his next words, “have Tommy’s body?”

You laughed, morbid but preposterous, “I didn’t pat him down. Coulda.”

Alastor snapped his fingers, “We’ll have to just assume he didn’t.” A moment of tension. The act of joking barely traversing the space between your bodies let alone reaching the stress under your skin. His hands came to your shoulders; firm, secure. “Did you want to have that fight now? About me coming over here.”

You rolled your eyes, obviously not. “Ala-,” you started and stopped.

“I’ll admit I’m being reckless but I think we can both agree my way is more fun.” Smile sliding into a smirk, he cocked his head and lowered it to get back into your line of sight. When you stuck your tongue out he took a deep breath in, relief. “Are you sure I can’t take you home?”

To which home, you wondered. He used the word so casually and interchangeably…

Face close to yours. Eyes solely on you. Perhaps the stage wasn’t as necessary as you’d once thought. Lips on lips, the feeling of his smile spreading as he returned the kiss. A second of panic as you realized you couldn’t see or hear or sense what else was happening anymore in the alley. Brady could have had you in handcuffs and you wouldn’t be the wiser. Not as long as Alastor’s mouth was moving over yours.

“I’ll call in the morning.” He said into your exhale.

You hadn’t opened your eyes yet. Not ready to return to earth. A pout from you. A chuckle from him. “I’ll be waiting,” You finally said.

While you did your waiting, shuffling around the theater and later tossing around in bed, Alastor fell into a different kind of purgatory.

One he hadn’t realized he’d made for himself until you weren’t there.

The house was quiet, almost eerie. Even with music on he found himself nearly uncomfortable. He shifted several times in his chair while reading, not finding any way to settle in.

His bed was lopsided. Suddenly one side was too light. Multiple times his hand slid under the sheets in search of you out of habit.

What a terrible feeling; to want someone. To know you could have them but they just… weren’t there.

It didn't make any sense. He knew he’d see you soon, in less than a day's time even. He typically enjoyed his home and its silence. Being alone was predictable and therefore comforting. Well, it had been. Before you.

The feeling in his chest, akin to a magnet tugging through his sternum toward a distant partner, didn’t abate.

Only when he heard your voice again over the phone did he find a sliver of peace.

“I’ve decided I’ll deny I have a guy. And, I’ll never tell him about you. It’s safer if he never connects us.”

Alastor was listening, honestly, but he wasn’t really processing. His mind was worried about something else. The detective genuinely didn’t bother him but he had to agree, “I suppose that’s best. As long as we can manage it, to not let him know we’re together.”

Together.

You were together with him. An item. How spectacular you must be to be a part of anything with him.

But for how long? With a certain detective breathing down your neck…, “I’m scared. Actually.”

You could hear the smile in Alastor’s breath, it was odd but eased you.

“He will never have enough to convict us. He’ll drive himself crazy trying. Trust me.” He soothed.

Did you have any choice? “Okay. You’re right. I trust you.” Unequivocally so.

He cleared his throat, “Sorry to change the subject…”

“Please.”

“I want you to come over again tonight. What do you think?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course, don’t even need to ask. I’ll always say yes.” All you needed to do was get through Brady and you’d be home.

But for Alastor, well, he wasn’t done asking the question. A moment of panic from a place unrecognized in his brain, fear of losing himself entirely. But what good was a safe harbor if he never ventured out to sea? That’s just a restraint then, isn’t it?

Maybe you held a place for him even richer in its comforts than his solitude.

So he let himself drift away from familiar shores, no sails and no compass, “I think it’d be smart to bring over a couple sets of clothes. I can keep them washed and always here for you. Would that be alright?” He had wanted to suggest it while together, but Brady was ruining more than his sleep.

Oh.

The same silence from when he first extended the invitation, the deja vu not lost on you. You struggled to decipher the second meaning you were sure was there. Maybe he didn't know what he had asked.

“I know it’s boring out in the boonies but, you’re welcome to just stay over while I go to work. I can come back and get you for rehearsals… I’ll enjoy the clubs or come back and make something for a late dinner for us, and bring you home when you’re done.”

He said it. He hadn’t really meant to, so he felt the need to clarify, but you also needed him to clarify just as quickly, “I -,”

“Did you me-?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“No I interrupted you-,”

“Not at all pl-,”

“Alastor for the love of God please don’t make me keep talking right now.” You lightly knocked your head with the phone a few times. Your heart was gasping for an ounce of understanding.

He chuckled, glad you were still very much yourself, “I meant, take you home as in, away from work. So, here. Or, there, if you’d prefer.” His face scrunched up, this wasn’t a conversation he had any practice in, “Anywhere really. I’ll drive you anywhere.”

“Alabama?”

He looked at the phone as if you were in it. Alabama?

“Like— the first time you asked me over.” You added quickly. A terrible joke, a bad callback that made it painfully obvious you committed everything he said to memory.

Alastor rested his cheek on the dining table, laughing into the wood before bringing the receiver back. You always offered him an out of uncomfortable situations, “Well the offer still stands. I'd be willing to even venture at least halfway across Texas.”

“The best half of Texas is on our side so that’s a generous offer. But, given our work schedules, I think your house would be much better. Time wise.”

He let his eyes close as he felt the coldness of the wood, “Is that a yes then? To bringing over a couple of items… for ease.” Was it a mistake? Would he regret it?

You were worth regrets. He had decided. He wanted you to say yes.

The weight of what he was asking wasn’t lost on you an ounce. You could see your window from the phone booth. You took great pride in your little apartment. It was your space and no one else’s. As a child you struggled to have your own anything, so you valued your home.

But could you call any place so far from Alastor a home?

It’s just a few items. You weren’t giving up your lease. It’s a baby step. One you could easily walk back if you needed to later. It’s not like you hadn’t spent every night possible already since that first offer.

“Yes.”

It was a plan that took your mind off cops. Have your interrogation, go home, then go home for a relaxing evening of jazz and drink.

The levity ended though the second you hung up the receiver. An obstacle between you and him still stood. You pulled out your bag but couldn’t find the will to pack it. Your hands were too busy as you chewed on your thumbnail again.

Brady noticed the uneven length when you sat down and set your hands on the table.

“Surprised you showed.” He opened his notebook and readied his pencil. “First things first, what is your legal name?”

A chill. You’d gotten your warning the night before to prepare something to say but ignored it. Your mind was flipping through words and images. Piercing all of it were the white reflective eyes of the deer along the road. You decided to lean into what you knew.

“Autumn.”

“Really? Never heard the name Autumn before.”

“Me either. Made for an easy stage name.”

“I’ll need to see your birth records, just to be sure.”

You sucked your teeth. “Ah, unfortunately…all that stuff was left behind with my mom when I moved.”

“And where can I find her?

“Corner of North Villere street and Piety.”

“And your address?”

You paused. His eyes rose and met yours. The radiant aqua from the cafe morning was now an icy color. “I don’t give my address out. You know where I work.”

“But you’re fine giving me your mother’s address? That’s cold.”

“Not as cold as she is, I’m sure of that.”

“Fine, I’ll find it in the census records.” He flipped the page, “Tell me about the dates Tommy arranged.” He tapped his notepad on the table like it was the starting bell of a fight.

You wished Alastor was with you, but also wished he would never enter that station. “Apparently many of the dancers agreed, got a cut. I had no idea about it until he,” you remembered the man and his ugly tie, “introduced me to a man who was very forward. I insulted him and ran off. Lost Tommy good money, apparently.”

“And who was that?”

You searched your memory, “S something. Mister Stein? I honestly wasn’t listening much after I realized what was happening.”

Brady nodded, “And then he knocked you around?”

You winced without meaning too, “Yeah. Got me good.”

Brady waited for you to continue talking, but you had learned this game. People know silence is uncomfortable and will use that against you. So you let the silence stay. Let the awkward tension build. You had limited time, he knew that.

He caved first. “And… the next date. Last time anyone saw Tommy. Tell me about that.”

Lying was second nature to you. You had killed for Alastor. You could do this. Deep breaths, slink into yourself. You imagined Alastor choked on the park grounds, wet and unmoving. Imagined him cold to the touch.

“Tommy said he’d kill me if I didn’t go. So I did. Promised me he’d stay with me for protection.” Tears welled. Bloody hands and a large rock. “But as soon as he got his money he left.”

Brady was writing, “And the man? What was his name.”

“Something foreign. Kerr-something. Or Car?”

He looked up slightly, “You’re pretty terrible at names.”

You wiped away your tears, “I had more pressing concerns at the time than trying to remember that man’s name. I was hoping I’d never need to know it.”

Brady hummed, “Yeah. And what did your beau think of this?”

Did you hide it? The flash of panic that rolled under the flesh of your face, “If I had a beau Tommy wouldn’t have made me do that. He said that himself.”

“Too bad he’s not here to confirm.”

“If he was we wouldn’t be having this conversation, detective.”

“Touché. Clever little lady aren’t you?”

Fuck.

You shifted slightly in your seat, looking downward in an attempt at being bashful. “That’s kind to say.”

“So why did,” he flipped through his book, “Beth say you stopped singin’ on Sundays cuz of your radio boyfriend?”

“Ah,” a weak laugh to hide the way your breath got sucked in with panic. The words ‘radio boyfriend’ punched the air from your lungs. “You must mean the rake. Took me for a ride at a club corner and sent me off in a cab to never see me again. Didn’t know he was in radio though.”

“Well now you’re lying and I don’t appreciate it one ounce ma’am.“

“What?”

“Beth says he’s been coming to your shows for nearly half a year.”

No acting necessary for this part. “What are you talking about? I met him at a club. We arranged a date and he picked me up at—“

“Beth’s dive.”

“…. Yeah. Well.” He’d been there before? So often? And you never noticed…, “That’s news to me, that he had been there for so long, it’s got its regulars though so...” You shifted again, this time with a clear uncomfortable edge.

“He stopped coming when you stopped singing.”

“….guess he got what he wanted then. A fun time in the swing hall bathroom.” Anger. Unreal and unfounded. Trying your best to hide how confused you were.

“Sounds like a stalker, miss. Maybe one who woulda been quite unhappy to hear you were selli-,”

You cut him off, eyes snapping up to meet his, “I really recommend you reconsider your wording.”

Brady laughed with a huff, “A man dizzy with a dame can do some funny stuff. Especially if he hears she’s in a pickle.”

“Well, no knight coming to rescue me. I’ve sworn off men. It’s why I’ve been leaving work early. Getting home, reading, sleeping. He really did a number on my heart and my pride as a woman.”

Brady’s pencil stopped moving.

“And his name?”

You’d never fucking say it. He could walk in on you moaning ‘Alastor’ and you’d still act like you’d never heard that string of syllables in your life.

“John.”

Brady laughed and tossed the pencil to the table, “Let me guess, last name Doe?”

You shrugged, “We weren’t on a full name basis. He was handsome, he took me out, we fucked, I never saw him again” You delighted in the way his face screwed up at your unladylike language.

“So, someone in radio named John. You know I’m going to be at every broadcaster talking to every John, right?” The nervous shaking of his notebook again.

“When you find him let me know.”

“Oh I will.” He said it so quickly, so sharply you could feel it cut at your cheek as the words flew past you.

You pulled your hands into your lap, eyes firmly locked on Brady’s. “You look tired, sir. I hope my answers will help you. So you can rest.”

“I am tired. Of people jerking me around. You won’t give me your address, you don’t remember anyone’s name, not even your own, and you deny having a man I know you have.”

If you screamed would he have you committed? “I’m terribly sorry,” you leaned over the table and pulled a piece of fuzz off his shoulder, “my friend gave you inaccurate and dated information. I am genuinely trying to help as much as I can.”

Upon closer inspection, his eyes were more than just blue. They were dark and light, deep and shallow. Blue so far down it was nearly black. A blue so bright it was a cousin of white. Eyes you were sure would haunt you.

“Help me then, Autumn.” Your brows rose at the request. He leaned back and away from you, “Just tell me what happened to Tommy. What your guy did. If he was trying to protect your name then we could find a sympathetic jury.”

Sympathy? Your smile was too wide, stare gone too soft. What sympathy did he have or would anyone have for you? Did he think you wanted the tender hearts of strangers? “Tommy ran off with a bag of money. He was a good man with a bad habit. That’s all I know. I have no partner, man or otherwise.”

A standstill.

Brady felt a twitch in his hands he wasn’t used to. An itch to move. Unlike him, and a little frightening.

Maybe he had been running himself ragged.

Back sliding down slightly in his chair, he laced his fingers and rested them in his lap, “You know I’m gonna find out what happened, right?” His tone had shifted to something serious and calm. He said it like he was telling you a secret. Low but firm. Steady and sure.

Those eyes. No, worse. What was behind them. You could see it clearly; unflappable determination. He absolutely would.

“I trust you will.” A moment of silence again as you both felt the conversation die. As you stood, Brady did too.

“I wasn’t bluffing about him going to Beth’s for more than half a year now. I don’t know how you think this is gonna end but it won’t end pretty. Whether it was just your boss or all the others on my desk, end it with him and help us bring Tommy home to his mother.”

You adjusted your purse on your shoulder, “I don’t know how many time-,”

“Autumn. I’ve seen enough make up covered bruises to clock em from across the room. That’s the act of a possessive, immature man. Just think about what I said,” You opened the door in an effort to keep your hands from shooting to your neck. “There’s no white picket fence or church bells for you two. He’s a bad man. I think he may even be an evil man. You’re gonna end up hurt, or dead.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest but you managed to stifle it. With an honest smile you replied, “We’re all gonna end up dead someday, Detective. I’ll call if I have any news. Thanks for your concern and … evident hard work.” You offered a little nod of your head before leaving the room and the station as quickly as you could without running.

When he set down his notebook after returning to his desk, he couldn’t sit. Energy was buzzing in his limbs. He needed to run or swing or pace.

His desk neighbor watched him immediately pick up the notebook again and grab his hat. A few other men shared a glance as Brady rushed out, an unsettling feeling passed among them.

“He’s still on that case?” One asked quietly, going back to his papers.

“Not officially….” Answered Freeman, standing at the window and watching Brady flag down a taxi.

“North Villere street and Piety, please.” He told the driver, not noticing his friend in the window.

It wasn’t near the station, nor the dance scene. He wondered if your mother would be any more amiable. What kind of woman would raise such a creature as you?

When the car slowed, Brady clicked back into his surroundings. He looked through every window hoping to see something different.

After a long pause the cabbie asked, “Ya gonna get out?”

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the seat. “No. Take me back to the station.”

His blood pressure rose so quickly he was sure he would black out as the cab turned around and drove back past the sign; Vincent DePaul cemetery.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Alastor kissed away the worries when he took your bag from you. Every detail of the interview was just hummed away. “Even if he finds me, without a body he has no case.” He reminded you like it was nothing short of fact.

“What if he gets one?”

“Not one of mine, I can assure you. He’d sooner need to kill someone himself and call it my fault.” A pause, was that something the detective would do? He shook off the thought.

He was so confident that even though you knew it was just skin deep it still gave you a sense of calm. The bodies, where they went after he was done with them in the greenhouse, was the last step he hadn’t shared with you.

There was one thing you didn’t mention about the interrogation.

You waited until you were a few drinks in, Alastor’s bowtie off and shirt unbuttoned several buttons before bringing it up. Uncharacteristically nervous about how he’d react when you broached the topic, you needed several deep breaths to get up your courage. Normally the idea of offending a man with an honest question wouldn’t ruffle you a bit, but once again there was nothing normal about you and Alastor. He made you so unlike yourself but not necessarily worse. Perhaps some consideration of other’s reactions wasn’t a bad thing.

“This is awkward to ask.” It was dark already, the sun setting earlier and earlier. The buzz of the kitchen light could be heard through the screen door, the light just enough to let you see each other's features clearly. Leaning back on both hands for support, your legs rested in an unladylike spread down the porch stairs. No shoes. No girdle. No pretense.

Would he be mad? Or maybe offended?

“Brady said you had been going to my Sunday shows for awhile. Months before we actually met. Did you really meet me by coincidence?”

“Or was I stalking you as my next victim?” His head fell to the side, eyes closed and smile wide. “I saw you there, yes. And though you weren’t the best singer, I did enjoy your shows.”

You tried to see him without directly turning your head.

“But yes, it was a coincidence. I had noticed that brute of a man a couple weeks in a row, staring at you so intensely. Word got around he had made a scene some time ago with a dancer.”

You listened like someone was telling you your own story. It was an odd feeling, hearing someone recount your days from a different perspective. An unknown one.

“I was surprised to see you at the theater when I followed him there. Even more so to see you in the alleyway.”

If he had said it wasn’t a coincidence, you genuinely didn’t know what you’d have done. You’d be scared and angry. Another predator lurking just past the tree lines.

Your relief must have been visible. “He really got to you, didn’t he?” Alastor asked, leaning over and letting his shoulder bump into yours. He was still riding the high of putting away your belongings in his closet and drawers.

“Yeah. He gives me a bad feeling. Like…a brick wall barreling toward me.” You kicked a leaf off the steps, “Or like, when you see a big dark cloud on the horizon. Can’t do anything but wait and hunker down.”

How do you wait out a storm so set on burying you?

“Dear,” his hands rose and palms flipped up in a way that said he wasn’t hiding anything, “We get hurricanes annually. We’ve survived every one thus far. He’s just a drip. A sprinkle of a man.”

People have drowned on land before. A sprinkle could lead to pneumonia and that could lead to a wooden box.

He tried to change the topic, laughing about Brenda’s reaction to the call and making plans for an evening out when things settled down again. You listened, but it was your turn to be half there.

You could barely muster concern when you realized you’d forgotten your makeup and hair wrap at home when you were preparing for bed. What you would give for going home barefaced with a ruined hairdo to be the biggest stress of your week.

The distance in your stare was weighing down his joy, how could he relish in the newest addition to his home when you were so burdened? Even in the moonless night he could see the faintest light reflecting off your eyes as you stared at the ceiling. Did you even feel his stare?

He couldn’t let Brady poison his bed, and the man was clearly there now. Chasing you in your mind still.

“Could I offer you a distraction?” Alastor slipped up against you, hand finding your hip. He could see your smile forming.

“I wouldn’t argue against a distraction…,” you’d beg for one if you didn’t want to feel any lower than you already did.

“Perfect. This bed isn’t made for three, so let’s eject that little nag, dear.” His hands slipped down your legs, “I want to replace your thoughts with better ones.” He pulled you to him, your back pressed into his broad chest. The way his soft hands smoothed over your silk slip felt like foreplay, so smooth and slick. Frictionless and gentle. Those same hands ran down and between your legs, following the line of your thighs until they found your center. “It seems you forgot something else.” Two fingers caressed your lower lips, barely parting them, “Not that I’m complaining…,” his lips found the back of your neck as his fingers rubbed gently at your core.

It took so very little to get your body on board, wet and relaxed for his practiced hand. Your own fingers coming down to rub at your clit quickly when you felt your pleasure winding up.

He sighed directly into the shell of your ear, hands working in tandem with yours under the covers. His back pressed against you, hips rolling into your backside in time with his fingers.

“What are you thinking about?” Barely above a whisper as he said it into your heated skin.

“Fingers.”

“Whose?” His voice was deeper than his usual speaking tone. A tenor that made you clench around him.

“Yours.”

You’d never been so satisfied with hands before. With breath. With the sounds of a man. Never saw stars while clothed and not under the lights of the stage. Warm and wet kisses to your neck as you came down from your high, you’d never considered sex could be more than a man fucking someone. Nor that a man could find pleasure so readily with his cock still in his pants. But the way he hummed and growled softly into your skin was proof of his good time.

You’d learned a lot from those progressively chillier nights at Alastor’s over the first week of your constant cohabitation. How much you liked waking up with someone just a reach away. How Alastor woke slowly, incapable of coherent speech for at least the first twenty minutes of his day. He’d stare and smile as his eyes blinked out of sync, rolling back occasionally as he fought the urge to fall back into sleep. Hair disheveled and soft.

When the weekend came, Alastor offered again to take you out. A promise to take you somewhere no detectives would be hiding about. A week without a peep, you were sure he had followed up with your mother and was probably steaming to get at you. But, for some reason or another, he hadn’t appeared again in the crowd of your shows.

A week of going into work unmade and unkempt, you finally gave in and asked to be taken to your apartment early Friday. You’d grab a few items you needed, take them to work, and be back home that night.

Your eyes were on Alastor when his car pulled up to your building. When he kissed you, your hand scratched at the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck. Eyes closed, you could smell him and feel him so much clearer. Perhaps when you were old together you wouldn’t have to worry about your sight giving out, you thought. Because you’d always know it was him by the way his skin on yours lit you up.

“Pack something you’d like to wear out tomorrow night.” He reminded you before you pulled yourself from the car and waved him off. You lingered for a moment as he drove away, wondering if maybe the storm had been pushed off course.

“Oooh, who is he?”

Whipping around, you saw a familiar face sitting on the stoop of your building. An unwelcome one, though.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Mavis?” Your bag fell from your hands as the strength drained from your limbs.

She patted the dust off her dress before bouncing down the steps. “The names Ephi now.” A half sister, though perhaps a quarter sister would be best to describe the often absentminded, when not literally absent, sibling.

“That’s not a name that’s a fucking letter of the alphabet. Mama would smack the color of your cheeks if she heard you.” You were sure you’d not see her ever again, not after she ran off to head north before your mother passed. She scowled, arms crossed as you brushed past her. “I don’t have any money so you wasted a trip. See ya in another decade.”

Ephi grinned up at you as you climbed the stairs, “Looked like he had some money. Mr. Big Shot and his shiny bus.”

“Lotsa people have cars.” Your eyes landed on the suitcase poorly hidden behind the steps. Hand halting its search for the building key as you could feel the stare of your mother looking…down? A weight slipping over your shoulders like a man’s heavy winter coat.

“Well I don’t need money or cars. I need a place to crash.”

Your head fell. You could feel it coming. The gust of wind dragging the clouds slowly towards you. No, the storm wasn’t off course. It was just building momentum.

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #Alastor smut #human Alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel smut

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thebramblewood · 6 months ago

Text

Two sexy vampires walk into a bar.

Previous / Next

Helena: I feel like literally everything is hanging out.

Lilith: You’ll draw the men like flies to honey.

Helena: That’s a good thing?

Lilith: For our purposes, it’s a very good thing.

Helena: [telepathically to Caleb] Help me.

Lilith: Last chance, baby brother! Sure you don’t want to tag along?

Caleb: [telepathically to Helena] You’ll be fine. Don’t let her bully you.

Helena: [telepathically to Caleb] [mental eye roll] You’re one to talk.

Caleb: [tersely] I’m good here, thanks.

Lilith: Suit yourself!

Lilith: Try to keep up, fledgling.

Helena: [shouting] It’s not fair when you give yourself a head start!

Lilith: I’m not the one who’s been slacking on my training.

Helena: You know, plasma fruit’s not so bad once you get used to the taste.

Lilith: My god, he’s already got you indoctrinated.

Helena: [crossly] I’m not brainwashed. But the only alternative you’re offering is cold-blooded murder, and you still haven’t explained why that’s necessary. If you only took a little-

Lilith: Remind me, Helena. How well was that working out for you? Did you ever feel truly full? Was there ever a single moment when the thirst wasn’t at the forefront of your mind? Your silence speaks volumes. Let me put it in human terms. You were restricting yourself to a handful of almonds a day when what you really needed was at least a three-course meal. Your body is starving, and it always will be so long as you resist fully nourishing it. Plasma is better than nothing, but the ache in the pit of your stomach will be constant. Caleb likes to pretend he doesn’t feel it, but I’ve seen inside his mind and you have too. We both know it’s there.

Helena: But if it’s just about the blood, there are other ways to get it. Hospitals, blood banks, volunteers, [gulps queasily] animals.

Lilith: All perfectly acceptable supplements, yes. I have my sources. Our refrigerator hardly stocks itself. But the truth is every cell in your body now is optimized for attack. You’re a predator by nature, and it takes stamina to resist. A few weeks is nothing. Are you prepared to deny yourself for an eternity? [lowers voice seductively] Don’t lie to me, Helena. It felt good, didn’t it, in that moment you finally let go?

Helena: I don’t want to talk about that.Lilith: You were driven by pure instinct, and you loved it. You felt free. You felt alive. You felt whole. [smirks knowingly before slithering off barstool] I’ve found our mark. Wait here while I reel him in. It shouldn’t take long.

#ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 story #sims 4 story #story: hzid #lilith thinks we can't all see where those eyes are pointed👀#meanwhile caleb and drusilla have been practicing their resting bitch faces #actually this made me wonder about lilith being able to read caleb's thoughts and caleb being able to read helena's thoughts #would lilith be able to hear their telepathic conversations?#OR would helena be a sort of buffer and block lilith from getting in caleb's head when she's already there?#hmmmmmmm future plot device perhaps #anyway i know this one is heavy on the exposition but i did imply helena would be getting an education!#helena zhao #lilith vatore #caleb vatore #drusilla the cat

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nivisdreaming · 2 years ago

Note

i have a request 👉👈 what do you think aftercare with dom!eddie would look like if reader used their safeword, but they were really upset about having to do that? maybe they’re feeling a little unsafe and don’t know what to do, cause they just wanna take care of eddie 🥺❤️

anon you look into my brain. i literally fell asleep thinking about this the night before i got this request??? anyway. i can’t resist doing a full thing for this i have many thoughts for you sweet flower child.

Summary: Overstimulated and panicked, reader has to safeword during a scene. Feeling guilty for cutting it off midway and scaring Eddie, they desperately try to make it up to him in what they believe to be the only way possible. Eddie puts them back in their place in the sweetest manner possible.

Tags: smut to hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff, overstimulation, choking, safeword use, anxious!reader, gn!reader, soft dom!eddie, entirely excessive use of petnames and praise by author

WC: ~900

“Just one more baby, come one more time for me. You can do it, be good for me.” Eddie picks up his pace for what you’re convinced must be the sixth or seventh time at this point as he leans forward to growl in your ear, “You want to make me feel good, right? Then come all over my cock, do it, obey me.” His hand juts out to wrap around your throat, leaving your head spinning, and not just from the overstimulation. Between his grip around you and his thrusting you can’t catch your breath, can’t slow down the pounding of your heart, can’t move, can’t take it anymore, can’t take more.

Fuck. This is when your supposed to safeword, right? This was one of those scenarios, where the scene is too real and the adrenaline searing painfully instead of pleasurably. The word exists for a reason. It’s not bad to use it. Right? Eddie won’t be mad? He always said you could use it no matter what. Friend’s don’t lie. You would still be good. Still be good enough.

“Metallica!” The word jumped from you in between gasps for air, and the squeezing around your throat ceased, making it so much easier to think already. Your vision came back into focus, and the thumping in your chest slows enough to lower the ringing in your ears. Thoughts become clear enough to process the situation just as you make eye contact with a panicked Eddie, who has pulled out and stopped touching you altogether, his hands raised in front of his bare chest as if to show surrender. You can’t suppress the pang of guilt that spreads through you at the fear in his eyes.

His jaw simply hangs open for a moment, as if he can’t quite get his bearings, but the tears that well in your eyes spring him into action. “Honey, honey, don’t cry baby, what’s wrong? I didn’t hurt you, did I? Let me see your neck, I didn’t squeeze the wrong spot, did I?” He lunges forward once again and reaches to inspect your throat, but you flinch backwards instinctively. The twist of guilt hurts so much worse than the soreness in your core from how hard he had fucked you. “Baby, please talk to me, was the ‘obey’ thing too much? You flinched away from me, did I scare you?”

You shake your head no and scoot back towards him with a sniffle, grabby hands raised to cling onto his bicep. You hide your face in his shoulder and muffle your words as you speak, “I’m sorry Teddy, it wasn’t your fault, promise. ‘M so sorry…” His mouth flies open to scold you for apologizing, but quickly shuts again when you begin to kiss up his chest and onto his neck. “Please let me make it up to you, Eds, can still be good, promise I can still be good. Can use my mouth, sir, do all the work and take care of you, or let you rough me up and fuck my throat. Whatever you want, I’ll give, Eddie, I’ll be so good for you, please let me help,” He finally cuts off your rambling by capturing your lips in his own for a split second, only to pull back immediately and fill up any potential space you could use to continue groveling.

“None of that, little one, thought I’d taught you better than that, hm?” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I will never, ever, punish you for using your safeword, or ask you to keep going after safewording unless the problem is resolved.” Another kiss is delivered to each of your cheeks. “You are my good baby because you are you, sweetheart. You don’t need to do anything extra to be absolutely perfect for me. You could say I could never touch you again, and I would still look at you like you created the moon and the stars, hun.” One more sweet kiss to your lips, like taking a full breath for the first time all night.

When he pulls away this time, tears are fully streaming down your face, and a few have even started to pinprick to the surface of his own eyes. You resist the urge to wipe them away. “Not mad at me? Even though I didn’t listen?” Your voice comes out breathy and soft, mumbles cutting down your words and making them sound childish.

“Sweetheart, you listened so well. You listened to your own body, and to the love of your life, who wants nothing more than for you to stop any situation in which you are not comfortable. I could never be mad at my good little baby. Never.” He pulls you in for a tight hug, both of you squeezing each other tight until both yours eyes start to droop in exhaustion. Eddie gives you a sleepy smile and hauls a blanket over the both of you, “We can talk more about what happened in the morning, okay little one? It’s bedtime for my good baby now, gotta let you get all rested up and feeling better. I’ll hold you all night though, okay? You need anything, you wake me, don’t try to get up, you know how shaky your legs get. Let me take care of you, now. You’re safe in my arms, love. Have sweet dreams, I love you so much.” You’re asleep by the time he’s a quarter of the way into his talk, but he can’t bring himself to mind. Your sweet snores make great background noise anyway.

#thanks for requesting btw!!!#this was so much fun #i need more excuses to be sappy #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader smut #dom!eddie munson #sub!reader #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff

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gatheredfates · 4 months ago

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How To Win Friends and Influence People: Dawntrail Edition ☀️

I swear the title is a joke.

Listen, we all know I'm one to furiously and viscously encourage people to venture outside their box and meet people, and today is no different! With the launch of Dawntrail, we're likely to see a lot of cool new people in the community, so these are a couple of affirmations I employ to myself when reaching out. Feel free to use them to your benefit!

That little voice telling you the person will think you're annoying is probably a liar. In all the time I have reached out to people in this community, I have never once heard a complaint about being annoying, overbearing or too much. As long as you're not inappropriate, respect boundaries and go in with pure intentions, it is likely to be reciprocated.

If people don't want to interact with you, that is their loss. Rejection sucks, but you cannot let the fear of it rule your intentions. Don't hyper-fixate on the loss; simply block (if needed) and move on. Not only will you foster healthy relationships with people who reciprocate your efforts, you will avoid drama by respecting and enacting your own boundaries. Trust me when I say this will improve your whole experience.

You don't need to message people right away! Start by leaving nice tags on their gposes, writing, etc.; make conversation and comment on their posts. Work up to a message first if you're shy.

I don't know what kind of comment to leave, you say? Easy! Find one thing about what they've done that you like. For example, I'm often like 'wow the x colouring in this is amazing! i love how it makes the character pop'! It shows engagement with their work beyond the superficial. Trust me, when i get these kinds of tags, it makes my day.

Remember you get out of a community what you put into it. If you have a cool idea for a space/event/roleplay concept, promote it! If you think your character's story would bolster another persons', offer to write with them! Reach out to other places with similar or adjacent concepts and see if you can work together. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, so they say.

If it's within your blog's scope, reblogging other people's outreach posts/commissions/gposes/etc is a great way to engage with the community in a low-stakes way. If you need to make a sideblog for promotional stuff, do it! I prefer tags, personally, but you do you. The more approachable you look, the more people are going to contact you first.

Befriend people because you earnestly want to get to know them. "Popularity" is a farce. There are amazingly talented people who have a small group of friends because they're shy.

Eat food, drink water and take your medication before you do any of the aforementioned. Actually, just cover all those basis before you do anything. If you start dooming and glooming your efforts, have a nap (trust me, it worked for me last night!).

A couple of things to keep in mind on the other side:

You are not obligated to reciprocate someone's efforts.

"No." Is a full sentence. It's always preferable to be kind, but know your worth.

If that shit don't stick, hit da bricks!! You can leave!!

Always try to assume the best intentions of people.

Tools of moderation are not drama-mongering or nasty; they simply tailor your experience to what you want to see/experience. You don't need to justify your reasonings, you don't need to explain yourself to anyone; block and move on!! You don't need to make a big deal about it.

If anyone has anything else they want to add, please do! But this how I operate and it's never done me a disservice. ✨

#｡･ﾟﾟ･ — sea speaks

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melodygatesauthor · 1 year ago

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Marc Spector - Random Horny Thot #1 - The (almost) 40 y/o Virgin

NSFW

——

Marc doesn't want to tell you he's a virgin because he thinks it's embarrassing. He's a grown man, approaching his 40s, and he's never had sex before. Something about the thought excites you to no end.

You’re hovering over him while he’s on his back. His normally stern face looks (very slightly) desperate, like he’s begging you to just fuck him already. You can feel his needy cock twitch between your thighs. He’s leaking precum down his cock and you think he might come before you even have the chance to feel him inside of you.

His hands are on your hips, and he’s trying not to push you down because he wants you to have control. He’s never done this before and doesn’t want to go to hard or too soft. He doesn’t know what you like. Marc doesn’t even know what he likes.

You finally get yourself down so just the fat tip of his heady cock is inside, and already he’s trembling. His breathing is shaky, rapid and so fucking pathetic. You love it. You drop a little lower, his head flies back and almost cracks open on the headboard. He moves his hips upward ever so slightly, unable to help himself.

“F-fuck honey, sorry I just, fuck I want it so bad.”

“Sh, baby I know, be patient,” you tell him.

You’re able to lower yourself down once. One. Single. Time. Before Marc Spector is choking on the moan inside his throat and holding onto your hips so tight you think he might break you in half. His entire body shakes with his orgasm while his cock explodes and he empties inside of you.

He looks at you, so embarrassed that lost himself so early, face rosy and flush, but you just smile and kiss him softly.

“Let’s go again, this time you’re on top.”

——

Any of my blurbs can be used as inspo for a fic. Please tag me for credit. Thank you!

Random Blurbs Masterlist

#moon knight #marc spector #marc spector reader #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader #moon knight headcanons #moon knight smut #moon knight headcanon #moon knight fanfic #moon knight imagine #moon knight blurb #moon knight fic #marc spector fic #marc spector headcanon #marc spector x you #melodys random thots

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 5 months ago

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If you allow me, I request also a mafia AU hurt/comfort please and thank you and love you <3

You're so sweet! 🥰 Hope you enjoy the Mafia boys and their rather unhinged version of hurt/comfort. 🖤

My gasoline

Words: 981

Rated: E

Tags: Mafia AU; Mob boss Dick Harrington; Hitman Eddie Munson; Intrigue; Secret relationship; Mutual obsession; Explicit sexual content; Handjobs; Nudity; Rough sex; Child abuse; Blood and violence

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

In the end, the decision that alters the course of Eddie’s life is made a lot faster than he thought. It comes, as all of the choices that have brought him to this moment, in the shape of Steve Harrington.

Eddie is in Dick’s office, tasked with retrieving a stack of documents for a negotiation the boss has going on downstairs, when the door flies open and the boy comes storming in, face oddly blank but eyes blazing.

“Your father's in a meeting,” Eddie says, carefully neutral. They don't talk to each other on official turf. As far as Dick is aware, they don't even know each other. “If you wish, I can forward him a-”

“Shut up and fuck me,” Steve growls, slipping a warm, slick tongue past his teeth.

Eddie hisses in protest as his back collides with a shelf and some books clatter to the ground. Steve doesn’t pay him any mind, just grabs one of his hands and shoves it down the front of his gym shorts. He's not wearing anything underneath, and well, what can Eddie say? He's always been a weak man, especially when it comes to Steve.

A few minutes pass like this. Eddie slowly stroking Steve to hardness, sucking and biting at every bit of skin he can reach, until the boy is bucking and squirming in his hold. Steve moans, the sound ringing off the walls in the silent office, and Eddie squeezes his base warningly.

“Hush, honey,” he admonishes. “As much as I like making you scream, your old man's right down the stairs. Keep your voice down.”

When tries to capture that sweet mouth for another kiss, Steve bites down on his bottom lip. Eddie swears and pulls back, tasting copper on his tongue.

“Screw my dad,” Steve snaps, fingernails leaving angry welts on the skin of Eddie’s hips as he yanks on his pants. “I said fuck me. What's wrong, are you scared of him or are you too stupid to-”

Eddie spins him around in one fluid motion, trapping his wrists behind his back and bending him over the massive hardwood desk.

“That how you want it, sweetheart?” he snarls into Steve's ear, pinning him down with his own weight and pulling his shorts down one-handed. “Be my fucking guest.”

The desk rattles as he rolls his hips, grinding his clothed cock against warm, naked skin.

Steve gasps.

And Eddie stops.

Because that sound had nothing to do with passion or arousal. That sound was only pain.

“What’s wrong?” he asks before he can think better of it, vision already alight with the first crawling tendrils of red. Steve freezes, briefly, but then he makes an impatient sound and starts to struggle in his hold.

“Nothing,” he snaps, trying to push back to seek friction, neck bending in that delicious, long arch that’s just begging to be put in a collar and leash. “C’mon, what are you waiting for, just take-”

Eddie whirls him back around. Steve yelps and loses his balance, but Eddie doesn’t pause, just pushes him down into the office chair and pulls up his shirt.

“No, stop,” Steve says, but it’s too late. Eddie has already seen it.

For a few moments, the office is dead silent, bar for the ticking of the clock on the wall and the voices wafting in from downstairs. When Eddie speaks, his voice is nothing more than a gravelly rumble.

“Who?” His hand traces the mottled patchwork of yellow and purple bruises on Steve's stomach. “Who did this?”

“Eddie-” Steve starts to say, and makes to stand from the chair. Eddie pushes him back down.

“No. Who?”

Steve sighs, long and exhausted.

“Who do you think?” he asks, and Eddie feels something heavy and cold settle in his chest. “He doesn't go for my face, usually. Gotta keep up appearances, huh?”

He laughs, a dry and humorless thing, but it dies in his throat quick as it started when he sees the look on Eddie’s face.

“I’m going to kill him,” Eddie mutters. His fingertips hover over the bruised skin, shaking with barely restrained rage. The crimson tendrils are threatening to swallow his vision and his knife feels warm and tantalizing where it is hidden in the hilt of his boot. “I’m gonna cut out his fucking-”

“No.” He’s taken the first step towards the door already when Steve’s hand on his wrist makes him pause. “I don't want him killed.”

Eddie whips around, mouth twisted on a snarl, ready to argue … but then he sees the look on Steve's face.

“What do you want, darling?” he breathes. His knees hit the floor with soft thud as he sinks down by Steve’s feet. “Just say the word.”

Steve’s voice is sweet as he speaks, but his eyes are dark and intense.

“I want him destroyed. I want to make him watch while everything he owns goes up in flames. I want him to spend the rest of his pathetic little life crawling in the dirt, knowing what he had and what he lost. Will you do that for me?”

The grin that pulls at Eddie’s lips is painful in its intensity, almost as painful as his adoration for this boy. That same fire he felt licking at his heart the day he first saw him, that has only ever gotten stronger and is now ready to consume everything in its path.

Steve smiles, sweet and lethal like poisoned honey, as Eddie takes his hand and presses a reverent kiss to his knuckles.

“You know I'd do anything for you, sweetheart,” Eddie purrs. “But that? I don't think there's anything in the world I'd do more gladly.”

Steve cups his face with his free hand, pulling him in for a kiss, and the feeling is like a match touching gasoline. Eddie closes his eyes and welcomes the flames.

More celebration ficlets

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bullet-prooflove · 3 days ago

Text

Pause: Mitch Keller x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @dolphs-darling @Watermeezer @queenslandlover-93 @redpool

Companion piece to:

Her Name Was Lola - You meet Mitch's wife.

Lola becomes the third wheel in your relationship. There’s been a war brewing between the two of you since she turned up in Tulsa, a silent one that’s waged every night she steps into the casino and sits herself at the bar.

“Why haven’t you banned her?” You ask, furiously wiping down the counter and Mitch sighs as he adjusts his cap.

“Because Sunny, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” Mitch explained and you’d clenched your jaw so you didn’t bite back with something truly scathing.

You understand the sentiment behind it, Mitch wants that divorce and he wants it as soon as possible but having Lola here, it’s detrimental to your mental health. Part of you wants to claw her damn eyes out and the other part wants to sob, because the evidence of the promise that Mitch broke it’s staring you right in the face, wearing his class ring.

The only solace is those nights when you’re on stage. You sit up there strumming a tune, singing your heart out and for a moment Mitch’s entire attention it’s focused on you. You can’t express how good that feels, to be the centre of his world again, the only woman he has eyes for. It’s gone the instant you step off because he’s back to Lola, pleading his case.

“I feel like we’re drifting apart a little.” You say to him later that night when everyone else is gone and the two of you are putting away the glasses. “I feel like you don’t see me anymore.”

“That’s not true, Sunny girl.” He sighs as he places his hand on the bar. “I just want this so badly.”

“Well maybe don’t.” You say, your fingertips hooking on the loops of his jeans and drawing him taut against you. “Maybe just enjoy the time we have together, without her and wait the year it takes.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to marry me?” He asks as he looks into your eyes and you can see the hurt reflected in them as your palms come to rest on his chest.

“I’m just saying put it on pause for now.” You tell him.

“Pause.” He repeats, his hands clasping yours to his heart. “We’ve been on pause before and it damn near ruined us. I want to move forward, I want to marry you-”

“I want that too but this situation, it’s not good for us.” You whisper as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “Mitch, I can’t…”

Your voice breaks and he closes his eyes, his nose bumping lightly against yours.

“Sunny.” He says firmly. “We are almost at the finish line.”

“No Mitch, you’re almost at the finished line.” You say pushing him away. “I fell behind ten miles ago but you’ve just been too focused on the goal to notice.”

“Sunny…” He begins but you’re already drawing away from him.

“I have to go.” You say, picking up your guitar case. “I can’t be here right now.”

You leave then and Mitch, he lets you because he knows better than to follow you when you get that resigned tone in your voice. When he gets home that night the lights are off and there’s no trace of you, he realises there’s clothes missing, the overnight bag you usually take on tour.

It’s happening again, he realises. You’re leaving him because Mitch, he just doesn’t fucking listen. He hasn’t been hearing what you’ve been trying to say to him for weeks, you can’t cope with Lola being in his life, you can’t stand to see another woman with his ring on her finger.

You pick up when he calls, he hears the sound of traffic in the background and he knows you’ve already left Tulsa.

“Where you headed?” He asks despondently as he leans back against the door frame of the bedroom, his gaze fixed on the bed he's sleeping alone in tonight.

“Dallas.” You say softly. “There’s a couple of places down there that will give me a gig. Probably Houston after that, Memphis, Nashville.”

It feels like you’ve plunged a knife into his chest. With each stop you get further away from him and Mitch isn’t sure that you’ll ever come back.

“Will you come home Sunny?” He pleads, his voice breaking as he says the words “Please?”

“No Mitch.” You say, and he hears the resolution in your voice. “No, I can’t.”

Love Mitch? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#mitch keller #mitch keller x reader #tulsa king #garrett hedlund

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stardustbarbarians · 7 days ago

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Go to Sea No More

A Daniel Wagner / Sam Kiszka fic

Summary: You can take the sailor off the ocean, but you can’t take the sailor out of the man.

Tags: humor, fluff, hijinx, very very light angst at the start, ofthecaravel's Brandy au

Words: 3.6 k

A/N: Hi I missed the Brandy world a normal amount so I wrote this. This all began when I started to hyperfixate on shipwrecks and fell down a rabbit hole. All of the superstitions I use here are REAL I did not make a single one up. Huge shoutout to the youtube channel Maritime Horrors for posting about all of these hilarious beliefs. Dedicated to @ofthecaravel because yeah this is her universe. Title taken from Go to Sea No More by Sean Dagher. Enjoy everybody! <3

+++

Old expressions float around and are used almost daily. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. When it rains, it pours. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. But one old phrase in particular haunts Sam near daily: You can take the sailor off the ocean, but you can’t take the sailor out of the man. Sam was very aware of that when Jake had chosen the sea over his own family for two years. Even more so when the man he loved had abandoned him in the middle of the night for that briny, fickle mistress.

However, both men had returned to port and promised to stay forever. Sam had never been more elated, finally feeling complete with their constant presence. All of them knew that while Josh was able to hold his own with his twin out at sea, Sam was worse off. Each time Jake would visit or send letters and gifts, it would make Sam more temperamental and anti-social.

But, that was the past. With Jake and now Danny remaining in his life for the rest of the time they were able to spend on this earthly coil together, Sam was practically unrecognizable to his bitter counterpart. Instead of clipped conversation with shopkeepers and vendors, he was pleasant and amiable. While this could be blamed on the return of those he loved, Sam was also just tired of being a curmudgeon. He never wanted to be that venomous firecracker of a man, it was just his defense mechanism. But just like the change of the current is controlled by the sun, when Danny stepped into his life with the promise of forever, Sam had slowly shifted and made himself a better man.

That wasn’t to say that their relationship didn’t have its quirks.

Sam, having been born and raised in a port town, knew firsthand how superstitious sailors could be. He’d always signed off all those ridiculous fears as nothing but the salt water rotting away those seadog’s brains. While he paid them no credence, he found it was mighty easier to simply follow along with these fallacies. He’d long since tired of hearing “you’re trying to summon pirates, boy!!” roared at him after accidentally letting the dinner knives cross as he served men their dinners.

And then he started living with a sailor. Suddenly, all those old seadog tales that Sam had scoffed at had to be heeded with the utmost respect. It was always extremely strange for Sam to watch the very level-headed and reasonable Daniel to act superstitious and fearful on a dime. It seemed logic and rational thought were all thrown out the window when it concerned the volatile nature of the seas.

It all started one day when Sam was doing chores around the cantina. He had opened the windows to let in the cool ocean breeze to combat the scorching hot summer day, hearing the calming crash of waves against the shoreline. As he was apt to do, Sam was whistling while he worked hard to maintain his family’s bar. It was an old shanty that had been rattling around his skull for a few days now, hoping that whistling it would finally relieve him of the cursed tune. That was when Daniel had made a mad dash towards Sam, clamping his large and calloused hand over Sam’s mouth. To say the least, Sam had been startled and slightly afraid of Danny’s now erratic behavior. Sam had started to fear that perhaps some of Danny’s enemies from his old job had been spotted - Danny silencing Sam to avoid being noticed.

It wasn’t until Danny had hissed a reprimand at him that Sam understood Daniel’s reaction.

“Are you mad?? Are you trying to summon a gale?!” Daniel had this almost crazed look in his eye as he spat out his scolding. He kept his hand firmly pressed against Sam’s mouth as he leaned out of the window Sam had been mopping next to, screaming: “Apologies, Neptune!! He doesn’t know what he’s doing!!”

Bewildered and more than a little annoyed, Sam managed to wrestle Danny’s hand off of his lips. “What are you doing??”

“It’s bad luck to whistle! You’re challenging Neptune! Next thing you know there’ll be a hurricane battering us!”

Sam looked out the window to see nothing but a clear blue sky and calm waves lapping the harbor.

“You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.” Of course Sam knew Danny was a sailor, it was hard to forget. However, he had, apparently wrongly, assumed that Daniel was better than all those superstitions.

Danny only blinked at Sam, sparing one last nervous glance out at the cloudless sky before slithering behind the bar to grab a bottle of wine. Sam watched on incredulously as Daniel walked towards the door with a bottle of the bar’s good wine in hand as if he were a soldier given direct orders.

“What on earth are you doing now?” Sam cried, trailing after his sailor as he tore through the Caravel Cantina and out the door.

“Making an offering to the sea god,” he solemnly answered, not even glancing at Sam as he spoke, his eyes dead set on the shoreline a few hundred feet from them. Sam could only watch on in dismay as the man he loved more than anything kneeled down onto the rocks of the shore, raised the wine bottle as Cain had raised the club on Able, and smashed the dark green bottle onto a rock, the crimson alcohol splashing everything in the vicinity. The former seaman watched as the briny water drank up his offering, picking out shards of glass from the rocks. Kids toddled this beach very frequently or else he would’ve left the glass shards as an additional appeasement to Neptune.

Later that night when Sam would talk to Jake about it, he far from expected the man to take Danny’s side on the matter.

“You should never whistle where the ocean can hear you, Sammy,” Jake had told him very solemnly. He had even taken on a somber look as he lowered his eyes to lock them with Sam’s. It had unsettled Sam to no end. That was when he knew there was credence to his belief that spending too much time out on sea rots your brain just like the driftwood she spat out from the shipwrecks she claimed.

Making sure neither seafarers he kept company with were in sight, Sam stood on the pier and whistled a tune into the still waves of the night. When nothing happened for the few minutes he stood there, Sam walked away with a self-assured smile, proving to himself all those pointless worries by the sailors were just that.

The near gale force winds the next day were just a coincidence.

+++

Despite knowing how ridiculous it was, Sam kept his whistling to himself when Jake or Danny were near. However, that was far from the only superstition they subscribed to. Sam would learn all of these the more time he spent living with Danny.

For instance, Danny just about had a heart attack when Sam handed him a salt shaker rather than set it in front of Danny for him to grab. He went pale as a sheet and refused to take the shaker out of Sam’s hand.

“You don’t want to give me bad luck, now, do you?” Daniel nervously bargained with his boyfriend, an anxious smile tugging weakly at the corners of Danny’s lips.

So, now Sam had to make a conscious effort to place the salt shaker in Daniel’s reach and not hand it straight to him.

Another fear, the most ridiculous in Sam’s opinion, was that of bananas. It was agreed that Danny and Sam would trade off weeks getting groceries, writing down items that were needed on a list in the kitchen. So, when Sam had brought home the groceries one Tuesday and set down a bunch of bananas, he hardly expected to see Daniel gazing at them as if they had killed his sister.

“What? Don’t you like bananas?” Sam innocently asked, glancing between the yellow fruit and Danny. It was eerie the way Danny refused to take his eyes off the fruit.

“You don’t know? You’ve lived around sailors your whole life and you don’t know?” Daniel finally looked Sam in the eyes, that haunted yet slightly afraid look in them Sammy had come to associate with another superstition.

The land-lover sighed heavily. He felt himself deflate as he forewent unpacking his groceries to lay his hands on the table to ground himself. You love him you love him you love him-

“If you tell me they’re bad luck-”

“THEY ARE!! They’re nasty little buggers that rot all your rations and harbor poisonous snakes and spiders!!!” Daniel raved, his arms flailing as his eyes went wild. Sammy loved Daniel. He really did. Daniel was the only one who had wanted him for him and not just his pretty face. However, he was making it very hard to remember that at present.

“Daniel,” Sam started, gently taking his lover’s face in his hands, making sure those picturesque hazel eyes were trained onto Sam’s, “you mean so much to me. I have been abiding by all your superstitions and asinine fears. However, I am not giving up bananas for you. So for the love of the sea you regard so highly, please let me have this one little thing.”

After Sam’s speech, Danny took a deep breath. He leaned himself into Sam’s touch, sliding his rope-hardened hands to cover Sammy’s. “Alright,” he breathed.

Laced into his single worded reply was an apology. Sam had heard it, Danny didn’t need to say it. As a sign that he accepted his mea culpa, Sammy left a tender kiss on Danny’s tanned forehead.

“I’ll put them in the cupboard so you don’t have to look at them. How about that?” Sam offered, keeping his hands in their place at Danny’s cheeks.

“You’ve got yourself an accord, matey.” Daniel’s smile was wide and dazzling, reaching his eyes and making them crinkle at the corners.

Sam couldn’t help himself, he started to pepper Danny with hundreds of kisses all along his face.

+++

The next few superstitions all came in a batch of a few weeks. And there was a good reason for that. Jake and Danny had finally saved up enough money to buy a two sail, forty-two foot cutter. It was an older girl, perhaps a few decades spent traversing the blue brine, but it was nothing that two experienced sailors who were former pirates couldn’t handle. Sam helped where he could with the maintenance, but there was only so much he could do. It was as if you asked him to speak Latin. But, he lent a hand and some elbow grease when the occasion called for it.

Within a few months, the old battered cutter was more than seaworthy. Sam had wanted to get out on the water right away, eager to see the mighty and vast ocean he’d only glimpsed at from his port city his whole life. However, as usual, there was a superstition preventing that from happening.

“It’s bad luck for a ship not to have a proper name, Sammy,” Danny gently explained, tucking a piece of Sam’s hair behind his ear.

“It’s amazing she hasn’t sunk yet,” Jake strained, his torso hanging over the port-side bow of the ship, taking in the chipped paint where the name was meant to be.

“But, it’s such a beautiful day out,” Sam lamented, looking longingly out at the sparkling, cerulean waves that seemed to beckon him with every undulating swell.

Danny, glancing over at Jake to make sure he wasn’t looking, snuck a quick kiss to Sam’s temple. They weren’t a secret, but Danny had always wanted to save his former captain the grief of seeing his little brother getting kissed - Danny knew he’d appreciate it if Josie’s boyfriend did the same.

“Tell you what,” Danny started, lacing his finger’s with Sam’s, “you can christen the ship. How does that sound?”

“Why does he get to do it?” Josh whined, no longer distracted by the fish swimming along the harbor.

“Well, it is traditionally done by a woman,” Jake mused, unable to hide his teasing smirk. The mirth in his eyes was all too telling that he knew he’d gotten right under Sam’s skin.

“Oh, fuck you,” Sam spat, not really meaning it. Jake knew this, shoving Sam on the arm with a chuckle. Sam reciprocated the gesture, giving a begrudging smile to his older brother.

“Josh, why don’t you pick the name?” Danny suggested.

Josh pondered for a second, kicking his dangling feet off the railing of the ship. “What about The Clarice?”

“Josh, all due respect to you and your daughter, but I’d rather walk around with a pegleg, an eyepatch, and a parrot on my shoulder before I name any ship I sail after a chicken.” From the look on his face, Jake was not kidding either. He picked off a piece of flecking paint from the railing Josh was sitting on, casting it into the water below. The paint job was the last thing on their to-do list, wanting to pick out a name for her before finishing up the maintenance.

Josh grumbled, a knit in his brow as he said something under his breath that sounded like “you’re a terrible uncle”.

“What about Calypso? It’s pretty close to Clarice,” Sam suggested, his thumb absently rubbing Danny’s knuckles.

“I love it,” Danny added, instantly backing Sam’s idea.

“God, you guys disgust me,” Jake groaned, rubbing at his eyes, “but, it’s a really good name. Nicely done, Sammy, you actually had a good idea for once.”

Sam flipped Jake the bird, causing Danny to purse his lips to keep himself from laughing.

Josh sighed, conceding to the fact that he was outnumbered. “I still think The Clarice is better.”

When the time came to finally set sail on their fully refurbished boat, it was hardly recognizable from the near derelict ship it was months prior. Calypso had been carefully painted in neat print in a beautiful dark green on both the port and starboard-side bow, Sam watching Danny dutifully sketch each letter as he sat on the pier.

Now, Sam was standing on that same stretch of pier, bottle in hand the same color as the paint Daniel used, his heart pounding in his ribcage hard enough to bruise. Just like everything else in his life after Daniel became a permanent fixture in his life, this moment was colored by superstition. A bad christening for a ship is the same as a death sentence, Sammy, Danny had told him one night, the two of them lying in bed after spending their day fixing up the new ship.

“Swing it as hard as you can, Sam!” Jake cried, sending his little brother two thumbs up and a reassuring smile. As cheesy as it sounds, the fact that Jake trusted him helped ease Sam’s nerves.

With a steadying breath, Sam clenched his jaw before swinging the bottle of liquor above his head and bringing it down against the side of the bow as hard as he could.

To his absolute relief, the sound of shattering glass filled his ears.

In an instant, he snapped open his eyes to see amber liquor pouring down the wood of the ship, the smell of saltwater mixing with that of a fruity aroma.

“I thought you were supposed to use champaign,” Sam breathlessly inquired, his head turning to take in Danny standing at his side. He was the one to hand Sam the bottle used in this ceremony.

With a blinding smile that made Sam’s heart flutter in his chest, Danny shrugged his shoulders. “Figured brandy would be more fitting. And this way I know this ship will be lucky if you distilled her christening liquid.”

He pulled Sam into him by his waist, planting a kiss onto the top of his head. Sam all but melted into Danny like butter against a hot knife.

“Blegh! Get a room, you two!” Jake pushed himself between the two lovers forcefully, the pair of them giggling at his discomfort.

Josh smiled at them, always the more romantic of the twins. “Don’t listen to him. I thought it was delightful.”

With the christening done, they were finally able to sail out on the ocean. As soon as Sammy stepped onto the deck of that cutter, he knew in his heart he was going to run into numerous more superstitions. However, he was far from expecting to run into one as soon as they finished shoving off of their port.

“Right,” Jake started, glancing over at Danny standing to his left, hands on the helm he was manning, “you know what we have to do.”

Before Josh or Sam could even ask a single question as to what that vague and slightly ominous statement meant, they watched helplessly as both sailors produced a herring. Their confusion only mounted into abject horror as, almost in slow motion, the former pirates bit off the heads of the fish and began to chew.

It wasn’t clear who screamed first, but soon both land-farers were shrieking in terror. They were both frozen in place as the sailors not only continued to chew the heads of those poor fish, but swallowed them whole.

“Oh, stop your whining! We did this for you, you know!” Jake yelled, tossing the rest of the half-eaten fish off the side of the ship and into the water below. Danny followed suit, his face scrunched up in distaste.

“How was ANY of that for us??” Josh shrieked, his arms thrown out in dismay at the horror show he just witnessed.

“It’s frightful bad luck to shove off on a Friday,” Danny explained, going about checking the various knots and lines along the deck.

“So that means you’ve gotta eat the head of a raw fish?!” Sam cried, feeling like he was on the brink of tears.

“We had to make an offering to Neptune! This way he may forgive our transgression and keep the seas calm for us,” Jake defensively shouted, his eyebrows knitting together.

Sam and Josh looked at each other. They didn’t have to speak a word to understand what the other was thinking: they’re insane.

“God, it never gets easy, though,” Danny lamented, picking a scale off of his tongue before tossing it overboard as well. Sam had to hold back his gag, a hand flying to his mouth to keep the bile threatening to purge itself at bay.

“I’m never kissing you ever again.” There was a firmness in Sam’s tone that lent severity and weight to his words.

That solemn promise only lasted a few hours. Daniel had brushed his teeth under Sam’s watchful eye. Three times.

+++

While Calypso was meant to be crewed by at least three people, you could get by with only two if you were only going out for a few hours. And after a few weeks of Sammy asking Danny and Jake to teach him the ropes (quite literally), he was deemed trained enough to go out with just Danny on the water.

It was going to be a fun day out on the water, Sam helping Danny pack enough food for lunch and dinner. There were also a few bottles of liquor carried aboard as well, the day well prepared for.

After they had shoved off without a hitch (and not on a Friday, thank you very much), Daniel had stepped away from the helm and sauntered up to Sam. The inexperienced sailor was tying off a knot as he felt a rough hand cover his own, ceasing his movements.

“You know,” Danny started, his voice low and rumbling like a roll of thunder, “it’s bad luck for a lady to be on board.”

Sam was, understandably, shocked. In a dramatic move, he swiveled his head around to look for whatever lady the man was referring to. “Daniel, it’s just us two.”

“Unless she’s naked. Now, unless you want to piss off good ol’ King Neptune,” Danny continued as if Sam hadn’t spoken, “you might wanna lose all your clothes.”

For a moment, all Sam could do was look at his boyfriend in shock. The man in question held his gaze with Sam, a wolfish smirk growing on his lips.

“I’m not a lady, Daniel,” Sam spat, throwing down his rope and crossing his arms over his chest.

This only seemed to amuse Daniel more, teeth poking out of his crooked grin as his raven curls haloed around his head at the behest of the wind.

“Don’t you want to be my Brandy girl?” His voice had dropped to a lower register, sounding as smooth as the very liquor Danny was invoking. It had worked unfairly well to Danny’s favor, the other man weak in his knees. Sam had to grab hold of the wooden railing on the ship to steady himself, his cheeks getting hot.

“You’re pretty enough to be a lady,” Danny continued, reaching a hand out to caress Sam’s jaw and beckon his eyes to meet the sailor’s, “I don’t think the king of the sea would be able to tell. Better safe than sorry.”

Sammy couldn’t suppress the shiver that wracked his body, feeling the warm breath of Danny’s honeyed words ghost across his skin. He knew he’d lost the battle, but he was far from upset at having to concede.

“Yeah,” Sam swallowed thickly after his voice cracked inside his throat, “better safe than sorry.”

That evening, under a burning red sunset and with their blood humming with brandy, the Calypso was christened once more.

+++

tags:

@doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @ageoferin @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @capturethechaos @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22 @satanplayshisfluteforhim @starsasone @mintysammykiszka @writingcold @tearsofbri @gretasmokerising @streamofstardust @lunaindigoraven @jakeydoesit @tripthelightfandomtastic @sunfl0wer-power @wingedgardener2000 @gretavanbitches @teddiie @gardensGateDaisy @sparrowofthedawnsworld @angelbabyyy99 @sammysprincess @whollyfreeamongststars @gretaswhore28 @l0rdoffli3s @kay-jordan @lightmyloverry @kenzie18 @gotavansleep @roosterbbradley @freckled-wonder @flower-power-anthem @Gabyvanfleet @Sarakay-gvf @Mamalikes-gvf @josh-iamyour-mama @st4rdust-ch0rds @pr41sethemoon @fallonfatality @earthlysorrows @jessicafg03 @rossy1080 @hippievanfleet @spark-my-nature @hayley1623 @schleeble @gretavanflipflop

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #danny wagner #sam kiszka #daniel robert wagner #samuel francis kiszka #danny gvf #sammy gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake gvf #sanny gvf

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crazyunsexycool · 7 months ago

Note

Honey Bee using Steve's Shield like a toy!

She sits on it and spins until she feels dizzy, she uses it to slide down slopes, like a sledge, she puts it on her back and crawls all over the house like a turtle. She paints on it to make it prettier.

Tony saw this and made her a shield! It was customized based on bee's demand!

I love Bee getting spoiled just like the Barnes kids….

Bee’s-Steve’s Shield

Bee playing with Steve’s shield would include:

She loves putting it on her back and crawling around like a turtle. The first time it happened it was a bit too heavy for her so she kind of collapsed. Honey and Steve spent a few very terrified minutes looking for her before realizing that the shield shouldn’t be laying in the middle of the floor. Bee was all giggles when she was flipped over.

Bee also has a knack to use it as a basket. She’ll put all of the toys she wants to use for the day in it and drags it out of her room and into the living room. Steve has lost count the amount of times he’s found the shield under a pile of stuffies.

Bee used it as a mixing bowl once. She poured her cereal into it and tried to eat it out of there. Honey got to her on time.

With the help of Henry and Charlotte Bee has filled it with water and poured it over Sam as a prank.

When she was small enough Honey actually hired a photographer to do a session of baby Bee on the shield and with Steve’s dog tags. There’s one picture where she’s all wrapped up in a blanket and taking a nap in the shield. She’s recreated that one a few times.

Bee has convinced auntie B to move the shield around with her abilities. Now Bee sits in the shield while auntie B flies her around outside.

Bee and Lottie make the shield prettier by painting it and adding glitter to it.

The kids take turn sitting in the shield and spinning each other until they’re too dizzy to walk straight.

After a snow storm Bee will insist on wearing her winter gear and heading outside. The shield comes with her of course. She fills it with lopsided snowballs and no one is safe! She also loves to use it as a sled. Don’t worry though, auntie B is there to control it and make sure Bee doesn’t get hurt.

The shield is such an important part of Bee’s early childhood that when Steve finally gives it up in order to retire Tony has to make her a new one. He lets her customize it however she wants and what do you think she chooses? A little honey bee wearing a captain america suit in honor of her daddy. She won’t forget her momma though, there’s another honey bee wearing a lab coat and protective glasses of course.

#you’ve got mail 💌#val answers #a love as sweet as honey ask

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stobinesque · 1 year ago

Text

gilding the lily

For @steddiemicrofic challenge for August!

prompt: 'cake' | wc: 311 | rated: E

cws/tags: cockwarming, facials, group sex, "puppy" used as term of endearment

literally everything is below the cut because this is filthy from top-to-bottom. (Also Eddie is not explicitly transmasc in this, but it's intentionally ambiguous enough that he can be if you want 🥰)

"Steve, please."

"Please, what, baby?" Steve murmurs, breath hot on Eddie's skin.

"More," he begs on a broken whine. Steve is buried to the hilt inside him, but he isn't moving; the pads of his fingers ghost over Eddie's dick at a maddening pace.

Steve hums in his ear. "Gotta let our guests finish icing their cake before you can have any, honey. Otherwise, what kind of hosts would we be?"

Eddie keens, wiggling in Steve's lap. He's already got come leaking out of him, caked on his thighs from Frankie fucking him. His nipples are sticky and pebbled in the open air from the icing Jeff licked away from them earlier.

There are still three of them waiting their turn, hands fisting over their cocks as they look at him like he's something they'd like to decorate and devour.

"You should give Gareth a hand, baby. Poor puppy's seconds away from blowing his load."

Gareth gasps, hand tightening on his length in a way Eddie would tease him for if he had any higher brain functioning left, and wasn't himself writhing on Steve's cock like a painted whore.

"C'mere, Gare," Eddie slurs, reaching out with grabby hands. Gareth stumbles forward, nearly tripping over his own feet. Eddie barely gives him time to right himself before swallowing him down in one go.

Gareth yelps, and it's no time at all before he's gasping out a shaky "'m close."

Steve fists a hand in Eddie's hair to pull him off, and Gareth's flies over his length in a blur.

"Steve, can I—?"

"Yeah, you can come on his face, puppy."

Eddie shuts his eyes, Gareth moans, and ropes of jizz stripe Eddie's face.

Steve's lips brush the curve of his ear, and over the slick sounds of Jonathan and Argyle making out to their left, he whispers, "Three down, two to go."

Steve version of this premise here!

#steddie #steddiemicroficaugust #nsft #bottom eddie munson #top steve harrington #stoner quartet #idk do jargyle + steddie have a ship name?#i have been informed that it's #stonedgyle #corroded coffin #fic #read writes

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quintessencewrites · 2 years ago

Text

Nobody Gets Me

Riri Williams x fwb!reader

How am I supposed to tell ya?

I don't wanna see you with anyone but me

Nobody gets me like you

Warnings: 18+! smut, implied smut, nudity, explicit language, slightly toxic!Riri, fluff eventually

Word Count: 2.7k+

Tags: @yvxmpire @zestgodtj @k3nn3dyxo @mlmilani @letitias-favv @doms-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @g4yforu @remwritess @widowmakker @becauseimswagman1 @iloveours @dayjlovesromance @zayswriting @inmyheadimobsessed

A/N: Super special, super heartfelt shoutout to @k3nn3dyxo for thinking up this concept <3 I just put it to words. Inspired by the song Nobody Gets Me by SZA from her SOS Album. I've had this song on repeat, so of course I had to do my own take on it.

“Alright, y/n, I’ll see you?”

I’d barely finished wiping the cum off my inner thigh before she stood to grab her pants and slide them back up the legs that were shaking for me just moments ago.

“Do you have to go? Like right now?”

A sigh rolled off her lips, “Y/n, baby, we talked about this.”

I ignored the stinging statement. “We can watch a movie. Cuddle? Aftercare? Give me something.”

Her gaze darted to the watch on her wrist before continuing to search the room for her brassiere. “Nah, I got a date in twenty minutes, y/n. I still gotta go wash your scent off me so Serenity don’t trip.”

Nude bra in hand, she pulls the straps onto her toned arms and attempts to clasp the garment.

“That one’s mine, Ri.”

She looks down at the bra, too large for her B-cups, and shrugs, stripping from it. “Whatever, I’m going back to my dorm anyway. I’ll just grab another.”

My back rests against the headboard as I watch her continue to dress, tears threatening to spill from my ducts. My pride won’t let them run over; she won’t see me cry over her.

This had been our arrangement for months. And we had talked about it. Multiple times, actually, and talking turned to screaming and doors slamming and texts going unanswered for days until she showed up at my doorstep and fucked me into accepting her apology.

“We work too well as friends,” she had told me, three fingers deep and speaking through my moans. “We don’t wanna jeopardize that by putting a label on it, right baby?” She could’ve gotten me to agree to anything at that moment, as she coaxed the orgasm out of my sore pussy.

So we agreed to be friends who fucked. The agreement was more Riri’s than my own, but that’s what it was. She dated multiple people on the side and too often ended those dates by coming to my dorm to get what they hadn’t given her, before leaving to repeat the cycle.

My little black book was empty. I couldn’t bring myself to see anyone else. Nobody made me feel the way Riri did. She sent butterflies swarming in my stomach. We would work as a couple and I know we would, but she wasn’t willing to give us a chance.

Fully dressed, nix a bra, Ri stepped back over to my bed to plant a kiss on my forehead. I refused to look at her, eyes stone-clad on the television mounted on the adjacent wall.

“Hey,” she whispered so gently it tugged at my heartstrings. Her hand gripped my chin and dragged my gaze back to her too-pretty features. “Don’t be like that. I’ll text you after, okay?”

She didn’t even give me time to answer, placing a gentle peck on my lips and walking out of the door.

My figure was frozen in that spot for several minutes, not wanting what just happened to really be over.

I turned over in my sheets, feeling the wetness soaked down to the mattress. “Goddammit, Riri.”

As I strip the bed, the memory of my clean linen awaiting me in the dryer a few doors down came to play. That’s how I’d run into Riri in the first place. A disgruntled groan left my lips at the realization that I’d have to leave my room to retrieve my laundry, assuming someone hadn’t stolen it after all these hours.

The oversized Reptar slippers from the Rugrats collection squeaked with each step I took. The laundry room was plunged into darkness when I arrived and the flicking of the light switch disrupted my entire world.

Ignorance truly was bliss.

Riri.

Serenity; seated atop a washing machine, back turned towards me.

Ri, fingers furiously making contact with Serenity’s cunt, catching my eyes when I’d turned on the light.

The two of us holding the record for the world’s quickest staring contest, my gape full of shock and heartbreak, her’s indistinguishable.

I break away first, rushing out and leaving Riri to her vices.

Back in my room, underneath my Riri-scented covers is where I spent the night. The tears finally made a promise out of their threat and poured down my face. The convictions hit me hard through the hours of darkness.

I wasn’t stupid; our deal was clear. We weren’t in a relationship and Riri was allowed to sex with whomever she wanted, as was I. Though in the back of my head, I knew I wasn’t her only, I’d sure as hell hoped.

Sleep overcame me at some point and during it, my hopes washed away.

By the time I awoke, the sun was high in the sky, warming my skin through the open blinds.

What time was it?

Well past noon, my phone displayed. My first and second classes of the day were but a faint memory now.

The LED screen also presented a number of missed texts and calls from Riri herself.

‘Y/n, open the door, baby.’

‘You weren’t supposed to see that.’

‘You ignoring me?’

‘So you skipping classes now?

‘I’m not playing these games with you.’

The last call from her was only 18 minutes ago. My fingers were itching to press her name, listen to the line trill, and hear her apologies.

An incoming call placed those plans on hold.

“Amari, hey!”

“Y/n. wassup? You good?”

The girl’s voice had a calming effect, the baritone doing something to me.

She spoke again, “You never miss class. Everything straight?”

Nah, nothing was straight. “Ye-yeah, um, I just had a nightmare. I overslept. ”

Flashbacks of Serenity moaning Riri’s name drowned my thoughts.

Honestly, had it not been for my false hopes and holding out for Riri, Amari would've been able to call me hers. She never hid her attraction for me, regardless of how many times it went unrequited. We shared a major and her beautiful presence made itself known in every class I had this semester.

“Oh, ight. I was just missing my signature y/n smile this morning.”

Her words managed to pull that smile from me. “You’ll see it, next class. Does that makeup for it?”

“Nah, y/n it doesn't. I already started my day off wrong. I can't wait that long.” I can hear her pearly white grin through the receiver. “How bout I stop by?” Amari continues. “I got the notes you missed and I’ll bring food. Consider it a late-lunch date?”

Date…if Riri could, then so would I. “A date it is. I’ll see you in 20?”

The Devil Wears Prada played in the background, drowned out by Amari’s laughter. The handsome chuckle that came from her lips warmed my stomach. “Wait, wait, wait. How the hell did you end up on your ass again?”

My smile mirrored hers. “I told you already, dude. I was a dancer; I was trying to do a high kick in a long-ass skirt and the skirt swept my other foot from under me. Down I went.”

“How long ago was this?”

Silence filled the room. My attention returned to the lo mein in front of me, sliding off the chopsticks held poorly in my hands.

“Y/n, baby girl, when was this?”

The pet name didn’t go unnoticed, but my shame overshadowed my giddiness. Shaking my head slowly, I whispered my response, “Last week…”

Amari was doubled over, captivated by her giggles. “You’re so eccentric.”

“Girl,” I started, laughter spilling from my own tongue. “Just because you call me weird with a pretty word, don’t mean you didn’t just call me weird.”

“A pretty word for a pretty girl, nah?”

Whew, if the blush rose any faster, I would’ve fainted. “Am I the pretty girl?” I teased, curious about her comeback.

“Other than me, you the only other girl in here, and I know I’m pretty fine. I tell myself that every day.”

“You cocky bitch,” my stomach is cramping and tears are streaming, the chuckles engulfing me.

“Anyways, I don’t get to tell you that every day. Tell you that I think you’re a pretty girl,” she states with a lick of her lips, spreading the warmth in my stomach. Amari leans forward, eyes locked on mine. My body mimics her actions until we’re both just inches away.

“I’d kind of like to kiss a pretty girl right now if that’s okay?”

The words are lodged in my throat, and at that moment, Riri doesn’t even cross my mind. Amari is here, she’s with me right now, and she wants me. “Yes,” I breathe out. “Yes, it’s okay.”

No hesitation is present in Amari’s features when she leans further to press her lips against mine, and I oblige.

Her mouth is so soft, I sink in, throwing a hand onto the bed to catch myself. Though distracted by the kiss herself, Amari grabs hold of my hips and pulls me to straddle her lap. My legs fit perfectly around her and I settle into my new place.

Our tongues swim together, fighting one another until Amari takes dominance and I follow her lead.

Moans escape me and she swallows them up. Our notes and Chinese food are long forgotten; we’re only craving each other. Her touch is everywhere, struggling with a place to satisfy. Without separating our lips, I take her hands and place them on my hips. As if on instinct, her thumbs hook into my waistband and start to drag them down, nails dragging on my skin as well.

The air surrounding us is thick and hot, as are my thoughts. Amari peels my shirt from my body, releasing my braless nipples to perk up at the feeling of her on me.

A pounding on my door tears us apart, chests heaving hard, lungs working overtime to catch the breath we’d lost over each other.

I don’t pull my eyes away from Amari and she keeps hers locked in on me. “Do you need to get that?”

I shake my head so quickly, the room spins. “No,” I respond, licking my lips, begging them to not go dry.

Thankfully, the gorgeous girl doesn’t need me to repeat myself. Her head dips, finding a new place in my neck and the kisses turn hot and aggressive. Bites litter my skin, promising to be evidence of this rendezvous. Amari’s shirt is off and thrown into a corner, allowing my hands to caress her through the black sports bra she adorned.

“Oh, Ri.” The moan flees me, loudly before I catch it. “You’ve never called me that before, baby girl,” Amari breathes into my neck, causing a giggle in response.

The thumping on my dorm door becomes a banging. “Let me get it. I’ll send whoever it is away and we can finish what we started.” Amari offers, already standing and giving me no time to protest.

Her long legs reach the entrance in two strides. Riri is standing in the doorway, small body filled to the brim with anger. Her eyes barely acknowledge Amari, but they lock onto me. My topless figure, still exposed to the air, retreated back like a child about to receive a scolding.

She finally turns to Amari, now leaning against the frame. “Bounce,” Riri seethes.

“Excuse me?” the taller girl’s brows are drawn high, probably in shock at Riri’s anger and disrespect.

Riri’s gaze returns to me, though her words are meant for Amari. “Leave. Me and y/n need to talk.”

Amari follows Riri’s stare to my pathetic posture. “Y/n”?

All I can offer up is a half-assed smile. “You should go. I’ll call you later.”

With a single nod, Amari retrieves her shirt and books and exits the room, bumping past Riri as she does. Ri takes this chance to invite herself in, slamming the door behind her.

In a few steps, she’s seated at the foot of my bed, eyes trying so hard to tell me something her mouth wasn’t. We sit in silence, neither of us wanting to be the first to speak.

Suddenly, a dry smile spreads from cheek to cheek. “You fucking other bitches, but moaning my name?”

I roll my eyes to the heavens, knowing she hates when I do. “It’s her name too, Riri.”

“Mm,” she hums. “I missed you today in uh - three classes.”

“You didn’t have Serenity to keep you company?”

Ri sucks her teeth at my pettiness. “Nah, but it looks like you wasn’t sitting up here worried too much about me and Serenity.”

Her words almost burn me. The horniness originally present in my veins has turned to anger. Riri doesn’t get to be jealous, but she sure as hell could be as hurt as I was last night.

I push the blanket aside, dropping to all fours to crawl over to Riri. “I wasn’t. I was about to get fucked, good too. Until you interrupted it.”

She doesn’t speak, eyes fixated on me and my partially naked body. “What do you want Ri? You get to have Serenity moaning your name and cumming on your hand and I’m just supposed to sit around and wait for it to be my turn?”

As angry as I was trying to stay, her face falling at my words almost melt away my hard demeanor. Her eyes are now readable, sadness displayed on them like a teleprompter.

“You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Riri. If you’re having sex with other people, so can I. Matter of fact, how about you have sex with who you want and I have sex with who I want and we stop having sex with each other.”

That gets her attention, and her voice vibrates the room. “How am I supposed to let you go?”

I’m ready to interrupt, but her next words silence me. “I don’t wanna see you with anyone but me, y/n. Okay? I-I’m not mature enough to be able to watch you do to me the wrong I do to you.”

Tears cover her features. “I love you, y/n. I have a shitty way of showing it, but I’m a coward. I’m too afraid to have my heart broken the way I must be breaking yours.”

I don’t even notice my own tears begin to streak my face. “Seeing you cry makes it worse, baby. Come here,” she welcomes, patting her lap, and inviting me to sit.

Acceptance is granted and I take a seat, allowing her to pull me close. “I only like myself when I’m with you, y/n. I should’ve stayed to cuddle. To play in your hair or something. Anything.”

“I bet you tell Serenity the same thing,” I declare, still feeling petty. Riri sighs a deep, tired sound. “I kicked Serenity to the curb, baby.”

The shock in my features is hard to hide. “Why?”

She rests her head against my bare breasts, eyes staring intensely into mine. “Nobody gets me like you.”

My smile fights to return, “You’re so damn corny.” Riri’s grin coaxes mine out.

“Corny but I mean it, y/n. Please, start from scratch with me. Give me a chance to do it right.” She bites her bottom lip, anticipating my answer.

“Do it right how?” I challenge.

“Take you on dates,” Ri kisses my hand.

“Cuddle you while we watch movies,” a kiss on my shoulder.

“Aftercare after every time I make you cum so hard, you lose your ability to form a legible sentence,” her lips touch my neck, exposing her vision to Amari’s love bites.

“Ugh,” Riri starts, but my expression is enough to stop her short.

“How about you start now?” I suggest.

When she smiles, it reaches her eyes and lights up her whole face. She nods and takes a handful of my breast, guiding my nipple to her warm mouth. It felt good when it was Amari, but it feels right with Riri.

“Mm, Ri,” I draw out, sucking in a hiss when she grins with my nipple between her teeth.

"Yeah, I knew you were moaning my name, baby" her stupid, arrogant voice rings out.

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primavera-weirdeggii · 8 months ago

Text

Final day! Not too much plot here, just fun times! @skizzlemanweek

This event was super fun, thanks to everyone who read! I’m excited for the next one!

Skizz woke up to his phone ringing like mad. He rubbed his eyes and blurily recognized the caller ID as Pearl.

It was 10:07 PM. And sure, Skizz didn’t mean to fall asleep, but he was still sleeping! That didn’t mean he wasn’t a little grumpy from being interrupted.

“Hello?” He answered, then cringed at his morning voice.

“Skizzley!” Pearl cheered, and he winced at her energy.

“Hi Skizz!” Several voices said. He coukd make out Gem and Impulse’s voices, and a low droning voice that must’ve been the TV playing in the background.

“What’s going on?” He asked. From the sounds of it, nothing was wrong, so why did they call him this late?

“You wanna drive us to the park? We’re bored.” Pearl asked casually, like 10PM was a perfectly reasonable time to go to the park.

He wasn’t too phased, because he’s used to the late night “It’s so late though.” Skizz said. “Why can’t we go tomorrow?”

“I have to work tomorrow, at four, so we have to go tonight.” Gem contested. “Plus, Impulse only knows like two parks. You know where the cool ones are.”

“Mhmm, it’s true.” Impulse confirmed.

Skizz sighed, taking a moment to mourn the sleep he was about to lose. “Fine.”

They cheered, and Skizz got up and got un-ready for bed.

About ten minutes later, they found themselves at one of the nearby parks. Skizz brought along his electric skateboard and scooter, because Impulse promised that there was a really cool skatepark.

When they got there, however, the skatepark was closed. Pearl suggested climbing the fence, but Gem said they could just use the empty parking lot.

Skizz set up the electric scooter, which Pearl gravitated to like flies to honey. She drove the scooter all around the parking lot, occasionally shouting when she went too fast over a crack in the pavement.

He managed to convince Gem to try out the electric skateboard, even though she was very nervous.

“I don’t know how to skateboard!” Gem protested. She stood on the board awkwardly, arms out to the side and hands tense. “I’m gonna fall off!”

“Just lean into it, lean into the movement.” Skizz advised.

“What does that even mean?” Gem laughed.

Skizz braced himself on the ground like he was the one on the skateboard and leaned forward to demonstrate. “Like this!”

Judging by the blank look on Gem’s face, she didn’t get it.

Impulse stepped forward and opened his arms. “I’ll catch you- I’ll stand here and catch you if you fall.” He stood just to the side of Gem, just behind her right shoulder.

“Okay,” Gem laughed. “Sure.”

Skizz made sure that Gem was ready, and then he turned on the skate board.

Instantly, Gem fell backwards off the skateboard as it shot forward under her.

Impulse scrambled to catch her, just barely keeping her upright - he hadn’t expected her to actually fall.

She laughed as she stood on her own feet again - laughed in a way partially fueled by the brief panic that had consumed her before she was caught.

“You didn’t lean forward!” Skizz joked. “You just stood there!”

“I still don’t get it!” Gem protested.

Pearl whizzed by on the scooter, pointing and laughing. “Ha-Ha! You fell down!”

“Get back here! Quit hogging the scooter!” Gem yelled, starting to chase after her.

After a while, everyone had finished messing around with the scooter, and they moved to the playground.

Skizz proposed a game of zombies, which eventually just turned into tag. It was all fun and games until Gem was it, and then everyone ran for their lives.

Now they found themselves by the swing set.

Impulse had been riding the scooter around the park for a few minutes, and now he and Gem had started reenacting memes they’d found online.

Skizz heard Impulse say something about an Uber driver, and Gem saying she didn’t order an uber. Skizz tuned them out and turned to the swingset where Pearl sat.

It was a standard park swingset, with poles about six inches in diameter forming an arch at both ends of the swing set. The pole at the top was only about eight feet off the ground.

“I bet I can climb this.”

Pearl kept swinging. “Uh huh.”

“It wouldn’t even be that hard,” Skizz stated, reaching up and grabbing the top bar.

“Do it then,” Pearl challenged.

Skizz pulled himself up enough that he could curl a leg over the bar at the top, and then rolled the rest of his body onto the bar. He sat up, being careful not to fall, and straddled the bar.

“You’re crazy!” Pearl called, starting up at him from her spot on the swing.

“It’s fun!” Skizz countered. “You try it!”

“I can’t do that!” Pearl fought. “You’ve got buff gymnast arms, climbing that is light work for you. I’ve only got average noodle arms.” She flailed her arms around in front of her to demonstrate.

“No, you can!” Skizz argued. “It doesn’t require much arm strength. You just need to pull yourself up.”

“Uh huh. That’s the hard part, mate!”

“Just give it a try!”

“Alright, fine!” Pearl relented. She stood up from her spot on the swing and walked over to the support beams of the swing set.

She contemplated which method of climbing would be best and tested a few, ending up unsuccessful. She tried copying Skizz’s technique, but ultimately lacked the strength to get her whole body to the top like he did.

She determined that since her arms weren’t strong enough to pull herself up, she would have to make use of her legs.

While holding the bar at the top with both hands, Pearl raised one foot and braced it against the pole.

She then pulled herself up just enough to where she could brace her other foot against the pole behind her, and then found herself suspended between the two poles.

“Yeah, you got it!” Skizz encouraged.

Before she could climb any higher, her feet slid down the smooth surface of the pole and she let go before she could fall. “Dangit!”

“You were close! Try again.” Skizz smiled.

“My shoes don’t have a good enough grip,” Pearl complained, gesturing to her beat-up crocs. She took them off and tossed them to the side.

Skizz watched as she did this with a curious face. “What’s that gonna do?”

“Bare skin is better for gripping poles,” she explained. “It’s part of the reason pole dancers wear such small amounts of clothing. Y’know, aside from the obvious ones.”

Skizz nodded and said nothing.

Pearl repeated her prices from before, bracing her feet against the poles and pulling herself up.

It took a few minutes, and a few failed attempts, but she managed to get to the top of the pole, and only had to pull herself up to the bar at the top of the swings.

She wrapped her arms around the bar and swung a leg up to the side, then turned herself over and straddled the bar.

Pearl was filled with pride as she stabilized herself, grinning madly. “I did it!” She cheered.

“Let’s go, Pearly Pop!” Skizz cheered. “I knew you could do it!”

“Yes, Pearl!” Impulse clapped and Gem whooped.

Skizz smiled as Pearl complained that she was tired, and that she was going to be so sore.

“I didn’t think I could actually do that,” Pearl said.

“See, I knew you could!” Skizz said.

“Can you take a picture of us, Impulse?”

“Sure!” He pulled out his phone.

Skizz scooted along the bar, closer to Pearl, and busted out his standard Skizz Smile.

Pearl grinned as well, still sweating from the effort it took her to get up there.

Impulse snapped the picture. The night only winded down from there, and when Impulse had long gone quiet and Gem had started drawing shapes in the sand, Skizz figured they should call it a night.

As they drove back, playing Kevin MacLeod songs over the speaker, Skizz decided they should definitely do this again.

#skizzleman #impulsesv #fanfiction #skizzweek1 #skizz week 1 #soup group #this one was based on an irl experience the other day #cuz I had a hard time coming up with other prompts.

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