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slightly-knot-insane · 1 month ago

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The Bringer of Rain

Monstertober 2024 - day 2 [ Local folklore ] by @ozzgin

[ m!zmaj* x fem!reader ]

*The closest translation for 'zmaj' would be 'dragon', and they are generally similar in many ways. However, Slavic zmaj has no connections to fire or gold like Western ones. Zmaj is connected to storms and rain, and they are quite fond of people. More info about them after the story.

You've been with him for days. Or was it weeks? You aren't really sure anymore. Days have melted into short moments of sleep, drowsy periods of wakefulness, and intense hours of sex and orgasms.

You are tired. Your body aches for rest and relaxation, but you can't get enough of him. You expect him every moment to come to your room, sneaking in through windows, underneath door gaps, through cracks in walls. He always takes human shape, and appears in front of you naked and hard.

"I had to see you," he says this every time he lays his radiating eyes on you. His arms are already all over you. He seems so desperate, so parched, as if he hasn't seen your for months. "I must have you again."

And he does - oh-so-hard. His stamina is incredible. He can pound your every hole for hours, holding his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. He's not supposed to be spending this much time with you. He is supposed to gather clouds and bring fertalizing rain to the fields and farms. But all his been doing was fertilizing your eggs.

He lifts your leg on his shoulder and kisses your knee before starting to roll his hips. Zmaj's cock is large and thick, heavily ribbed. His breaths are shallow, even and collected, while you are panting, almost gasping for air, inches away from another climax.

"Shh, be quiet, my dove." His voice is calm, but there is a hint of panic.

Loud banging on the door interrupts you. "We know he's here, that zmaj-whore!" Your uncle's voice is on verge of screaming. "Untangle yourself from him so that we can talk some senses to him."

"Shit!" Zmaj grabs you and presses you against his chest, sheltering you from something. A strange feeling washes over you and you're plummeted into darkness.

When you open your eyes, you are outside, somewhere far away from your home, but you can't see a lot since it's dark and the sky is sprinkled with stars. And all around you lays a massive presence.

"My love," zmaj whispers, and embraces you with his claws. "I hope I didn't scare you."

"Not at all. I'm so happy to see your true form." An impressive adult zmaj is glowing with a dim silver light, encircling you like a tight ouroboros.

"It was the only way to escape a nasty fight. And I needed my wings."

You shake your head. "I know. You are magnificent."

He chuckles. "I'm happy you think so. But I should return you to—"

You abruptly stand up and hold his snout. "Return me? Before saying a proper goodbye? I could never forgive you."

Zmaj blinks in confusion. "Oh. I'm sorry. Of course I would never just—"

How is this magical creature so incredible, yet so dumb. "I want you to fuck me with a proper zmaj cock, you dumb-dumb."

"Oooooooh." His long exhale was like a warm breeze and your hair billows. With a wink of his snake-like eye, he rolls over on his side. A long and pulsating silver cock is already hard for you, too heavy to stand upwards. "Come here, my sweet sparrow."

Your zmaj boyfriend is more than patient. His cooing and kisses helped you relax, and his thick tongue stretched your pussy out, and kept you moist. His saliva was warm and slick. Slowly, easily, with your permission, he slides his dick in. It is so big that it immediately inflates your stomach, and a faint glow lights your skin. He puts his hand around your waist to support you, and he lets you take his length in your own pace. He only growls and praises your bravery for wanting to try out his true form.

All you can do is moan and pant, barely coherent, as his ribbed phallus rubs against your walls. Your cunt has never been this full and this moist. "Fuck... yes... please... more..."

"You like this? You like my true form?" He shifts behind you and there is a feral change in his voice. You just whine and confirm in some pathetic way, before he takes charge and pushes his cock as far as it can go and growls, no longer verbal.

The sensation of his monstrous cock thrusting in and out, his loud breathing and smell of his sweat drive you crazy. You orgasm several times and so intensely that you eventually lose awareness and simply drown in pleasure.

When you open your eyes next time, waking up from a refreshing dream, the sun is rising. You are on your home's roof. But it wasn't the pink sky or uncomfortable ground that woke you up, but heavy drops of rain. You smile and pat your stomach swollen and heavy from zmaj's seed.

Zmaj monsters could, of course, be male or female, and they enjoyed taking human lovers. Sometimes, they would have sex with a new lover so much and often they would forget to bring rain. The angry villagers, whose crops were dying from drought, would then look for a human that looked the most ill and thin (since that would indicate they were exhausted from so much good zmaj sex). Then, the villagers would bang with pots around the lover's house to scare the zmaj back to work. Unfortunately for the poor zmaj's lover, zmaj would leave and they would never find another partner as good as zmaj was. Sometimes zmaj monsters and people would have children and they were called zmajevit. They were super strong and considered heroes (from Serbian mythology).

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deceitfuldevout · 1 year ago

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Struggle

Soft!Dark!Neil Lewis x BestFriend!Reader

Word Count: +1,857

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Misogynistic remarks, Manhandling, Play fighting gone wrong.

Author's Note(s): I was inspired by a soundgasm audio

You and Neil were childhood bestfriends. As thick as thieves. He had been there for you since day one. You grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same schools, and eventually became co-owners of gumshoe movie store. Neil was always the one who wiped away your tears. He was your shoulder to cry on after a nasty breakup. One of the perks of living with your best friend are movie nights. You and Neil would pick out some movies to share.

He knows you love them as much as he does. His was up first, then yours would be after. You would switch the order every weekend. Neil's choice was alright, it was one of those old western movies. You on the other hand picked something newer. One of those action movies with a powerhouse female lead. You thought it was going well. That is until Neil scoffs, you turn to the side and look at him, "What's wrong? You don't like it?"

"No it's just...do you really think she could take them all down in hand-to-hand combat?" out of everything the movie had, that was his biggest concern? Your brows furrow, "Are you saying you could take her on?" now sitting up. Neil tilts his head, "Well, I mean yeah? She's a twig, it'd be hard not to win," he's dead serious about it too. You don't take his remarks seriously. It's not like he meant it, right?

That's when you felt the need to speak up, "Neil it's just a movie, and besides, size doesn't matter in a fight," when you turn your attention back to the screen Neil looks away, "Size doesn't matter?" he's taken aback. He pauses the movie, "Let me get this straight: You're confident that size doesn't matter?" he wants to test this hypothesis out, "Because I'm a lot stronger than you," it's not that Neil thinks he is, it's that he knows so, "I don't mean to sound insensitive but, there's also a biological factor,"

You turn towards Neil and raise a brow, "You're that confident you'll win?" previously, you've won the last several fights against him. But then again, you were both nine years old. He nears, "I bet I could pin you down in less than ten seconds," he wants to test out that theory. So, You decide to test it out, getting into position, "Three...two...one-" but before you've had a chance to even find solid grounding, Neil already has you pinned to the couch.

It stuns you, for a moment you were left in disbelief. How did he? When did he? It was so fast you hadn't even seen it coming. You try lifting yourself up but Neil shoves you down with a light 'thud'. When you try to sit, he does it again, only harder. This was nothing to him. He didn't even seem tired. For a moment you question yourself. Had Neil been holding back the entire time? It was almost surprising how strong he was. "C'mon...fight back, I said fight back..." Neil hovers over you. Both of his legs now straddling your sides.

He manages to trap both your wrists together in one of his hands. You try to pulling them free but his grip is unbreakable. You've never noticed how strong he actually was. Sure, he'd let you sit on his shoulders during concerts, or even lift you up in a hug, but this was the first time you've really noticed his concentrated strength. It took little to no effort pinning you down. He leans in, now face-to-face, "Do you give up?" he taunts, "Just admit that I'm stronger than you...there's no use fighting it..."

You didn't want to lose that easily. You kept twisting and turning in an attempt to escape. It was futile. Neil had won fair and square. His hands began to roam under your shirt, playfully caressing your rib cage. He brushes his fingers against the bare skin. You couldn't help but giggle at the ticklish feeling, "O-ok ok! You win!" a burst of laughter erupts from you. After a moment, Neil finally stops. He takes in the sight of you, staring at the peaks forming on both breasts. He licks his lips, ducking his head down. He places a few kisses on your jawline, then down the side of your neck, all the way to your shoulder.

They quickly turn into wet kisses, then suckling. It felt ticklish. Neil had always been overly handsy around you. Even sharing a first kiss in grade school. His hands grip your hips in a tight grasp. You grab his wrists and start to pull, but it was like trying to move metal bars. His brows furrow, obviously annoyed now. He pulls both your arms above your head before tugging at your shirt. It didn't take much for him to drag it up. He knows you detest wearing a bra indoors. He doesn't mind that at all.

You gasp, "Neil! What the hell?! S-stop!" At that moment you did something you never thought would happen. Never in a million years would you have imagined putting your hands on him. You slap Neil across the face. His hair falls down to his forehead. There's a visible red mark on his cheek. His jaw clenches. For the first time ever, Neil Lewis is at a loss for words. You scramble to the other side of the couch, attempting to fix your disheveled clothes. You look back at your best friend in disbelief.

His pupils are blown with lust. His cheeks are a flushed pink as he darts his tongue out to lick his lips, "Let's make a bet, if you can break free, I'll let you go," he captures your ankle, pulling you across the couch towards him, "But if I manage to keep you pinned..." he cups your mound, digging his finger into the slit, "I get to tryout this pussy..." he's dead serious too.

You couldn't believe it. This isn't him. This isn't the same Neil who would comfort you after a nasty breakup. Or be the first one to wipe away those tears away whenever someone tried to hurt you. This wasn't just anyone saying it, this was your best friend. He may have a reputation of being a notorious prankster, but this was taking it too far. You start tearing up, "Neil, you're scaring me..."

He snickers, playfully swiping at your tears with his tongue, "C'mon, keep fighting," he shook your shoulders, "Fight back if you don't want it," his expression changes. It contorts into a snarl as he starts tugging at the fabric of your clothes. You try to fight him off. Neil grins with delight. This was all a game to him.

It was entertaining to Neil, watching your feeble attempt to stop him. He rubs his hard on against your mound, bucking his hips a few times with a moan, "Yeah keep struggling, no matter what you do...I'm bigger than you...stronger than you..." he juts his hips again, only harder this time, "Fuck you have no idea how much this is turning me on..." his voice is much deeper. There's just something about the thrill of it that turns him on. No matter how much you twist and turn, or how hard you try, it was nothing compared to his strength.

Neil may be on the leaner side but he could manage in a fight. His free hand reaches under the waistband of your panties. He lets out a gasp, "Oh fuck..." rubbing his digits up and down your slit to collect any slickness. He yanks down the fabric with ease, taking in the sight of your folds. Neil moans, "Already so wet, yet I haven't even touched you" he clicks his tongue, inspecting your now glistening folds. His eyelids are hooded as he examines the slickness sticking to his fingers, "My, my, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted this..."

Neil lowers his head to your mound. He whispers, "Lemme just..." he flattens his tongue against your core. He gives a long stripe from your leaking hole to your clit, wrapping his lips around it with a moan, "Mmm..." his eyes are blissfully shut. His lashes flutter with pleasure as his brows furrow in delight. Fuck...you taste so good. Everything about you is so fucking perfect. Neil never saw a flaw in you. All those ex's were dumb as shit for dumping you. But no worries, he's here to make up for it.

His fingers slide in with little to no resistance. He began to pump them vigorously in and out your channel. Your toes began to curl from the angel he hit, throwing back your head in pleasure. Neil releases your clit for only a moment, "Fuck...you're enjoying me using you huh?" he teases, then returns to tasting you. He adds more pressure to that sweet, spongey spot inside.

You came, hard. A gush of arousal hits Neil's face as he sucks in your bud. He's having the time of his life, moaning through your climax. He parts, now licking his lips, "Who knew you were such a slut?" he chuckles. His cock twitches at the sight of your tuckered-out form. He's eager to finish what he's started.

Neil frantically unbuckles his belt. He lets his pants slide off, reaching into his boxers to pull out his semi-hard cock. He gives it a few tugs before aiming the leaking tip at your entrance. Neil had never been more desperate in his life to feel a woman. He's only ever imagined this moment while lying in bed late at night. But now? He's not going to waste another second. He buries his cock deep inside, muffling his moans into your shoulder, "M'yeah...just stay still and be my cocksleeve, yeah?" Neil thrusts his hips at a more rapid pace.

You could hear him choke out, "Fuck...fuck...fuck..fuck!" Neil was right. He is too strong. All you could do was lay there as he took what he wanted, staring blankly at the ceiling as he chases his high. He suckles and kisses against your skin to mark what was his. He sighs, "So good...so good for me..." he playfully licks against your mouth, parting your lips with his tongue. His hands held your head in place as he dips it inside.

After he's finishes inside Neil doesn't let you go, no. Instead he manhandles you onto his lap. You're still pierced by his cock. You could practically feel it still twitching inside. Neil catches his breath, he has an arm wrapped around your waist. He leans back against the sofa, pulling you in with him. He reaches for the remote to play the movie. Unbothered by what just happened. You're splayed across his chest with your shirt still on.

Every now and then Neil lazily juts his hips up just to feel you gripping him. He rubs small circles on your lower back, reaching down to squeeze your ass. He doesn't look away from the T.V., not even after he hears you sniffling. You choke out, "I-I hate you..." those words don't bother him. He knows you can get a little emotional and doesn't think too much of it. He places a kiss on your temple, "No you don't," he's sure of it.

#dark!neil lewis #dark!neil lewis x reader #reader #reader insert #dark!fic #dark!fanfic #dark!fanfiction #dark!smut #neil lewis x reader #dark!neil lewis x you #neil lewis #neil lewis x you #fab!reader #afab!reader #fem!reader #my work #my works #cillian murphy character #cillian murphy smut

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magicgalatica · 11 months ago

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Sweets

PART 1

Yandere! Leatherface/Thomas Hewitt (2006) x Baker! Female Reader

“…….”

——————————————————————————

Smell of sliced meat drifted up. Raw, drooling red. Sunlight beamed in through windows. Casting rays of warmth and heat.

Thunk Thunk Thunk!

Wood gently being chopped by a blade that pierced laid meat. Steak. Pork. Anything that a blade would grace itself with. A tall man stood, hovering. Black hair draped over his shoulders slightly. Mask covering his lower face towards his nose. Hiding whatever what maybe under it. Hazel eyes focusing. Rising his arm then swinging down. Slicing a large rib. Breathing slowly.

RIIIIIINNNNG!

He stopped. Clever at hand. Staring yet remained silent. Shift now ending. Letting out a breath. Eyes lingering on the meat that sat in front of him. As if he was contemplating. Hearing footsteps behind him. Not bothering nor interested to see who it was. Whoever it was stopped. Not close, just a few feet away. Thomas begins swinging down again before hearing a disgruntled voice speaking towards him.

“Oi. The shift is over. Go home ya animal.”

He stopped, holding the clever tightly. Looking at the man, who glared back at him. Eyes locked onto each other. Placing his clever to the side. Moving butchered meat into a container (or barrel). Slowly turning around after finishing. Glaring at the owner one last time before leaving his spot. His boots scraping wooden floors to dirt. Closing the steel door after he left. Letting out more breathes. Following his path. Silent. Feeling a cool breeze grazing him softly. Sunlight nabbing at him slowly. Taking more steps. Then a scent hits his nose. What seemed to be….. Cookies? This was new to him. Usually used to smell of raw meat. Curiosity slowly nawing at him. Following this newly scent. Seeing a small path. He took it. Continuing to trail it slowly. Letting out a breath. Before noticing a building a few feet away from a him.

A Bakery…

Has it always been here? He pondered in his thoughts for a second. Noticing it wasn’t far from town. Nestling by itself. Some chairs and tables settled outside. Gently pushing the door, heading a tiny bell going off. Then a voice spoke.

“Hello! I’ll be with you in one second!”

Raising his head. Taking a look at his surroundings. Seemingly the inside was a theme of western. Some wheels here and there. Bull skull hanging in front near the cashier. Soft music playing in background. Coffee freshly brewed with some tea that glowed from sunlight. Hearing clicking of boots. A female appears. H/c gently swaying a bit. Tying up her apron before moving her gaze up. Smiling.

“Hello! Welcome to Sweetie Bakery!”

Her voice sounded soft and calm. Not a hint of anger or disgust towards him. But he took notice of her nose twitching. Probably gaining a scent of dried blood on him. However she didn’t say anything. Not bothered.

“I’m Y/n! How can I help you today?”

“…….”

Thomas gazed at Y/n. Keeping his silence. He did move forward. Gazing at the options before him. He expected her to call him names or insult him under her breath.

But he heard nothing.

Y/n watched him with her e/c. Still smiling. Being patient. Allowing him to scan each option. He stopped, then gazed at Y/n.

“…….”

Y/n tilted her head a bit. Still gazing at him as he did back. Then his eyes slowly trail towards some pie. Mainly at Pecan Pie. Y/n, taking notice, smiles more at him.

“Would you like a sample?”

“………”

Y/n hummed, ducking down for a moment. Appearing up. Holding a plate with a fork. Setting it down. Placing on some gloves on. Grabbing a slice gently with a baking tool. Placing it onto the plate. Thomas reached for the fork. But Y/n, gently, tapped his hand.

“Hold on mister, let me get you a wet cloth show you can clean your hands for a second.”

Thomas looked at her. Seeing her turn away. Grabbing a cloth. Wetting it with warm water. Heading back over. Gesturing the cloth to him. Thomas gazed at it for a second. Taking it. He slowly wiped his hands to clear off any smell or remain of meat. Y/n gently takes back the cloth. Thomas grabs his fork. Cutting into this pecan pie. Jabbing into a piece. Rising it up to his mouth. Taking a bite. Y/n smiles at him ounce more.

“Do you like it?”

Thomas looks at her, letting out a small huff. To which Y/n took as a yes. Her eyes noticed something red.

“Oh your bleeding.”

Thomas wondered what she meant before noticing. A cut on his hand. Being used to dealing with sharp blades when working. To a point he doesn’t feel it anymore.

“Wait here.”

Y/n disappeared into the back before coming back with a med kit. Going around. Pulling one of the chairs.

“Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll take look at it.”

Thomas turned to her. Slowly heading towards the chair and sat down slowly. Y/n got on her knees. Opening her med kit. Using one hand, she took Thomas’s cut hand. But instead of roughly, it was a gentle touch. To him it was like a delicate soft touch. Y/n pulled out some wipes. Wiping some blood away before wrapping it some bandages.

“There that looks better.”

Thomas let’s out a breath. Y/n stood up.

“Hopefully that’ll heal up nicely. Better then it being accidentally cut further and then getting infected. Especially when working at a meat place.”

Thomas looks at her. Thinking she must’ve offended him.

“Oh sorry. I didn’t mean anything bad. It just when it comes to sharp objects when you cut meat.”

Y/n breathes softly.

“You must be thirst from working within that building.”

Y/n goes back behind the counter, humming a bit. Grabbing a cup. Gently pouring some sweet tea into a cup. Walking back over to him. Placing it down in front him.

“There you go.”

Y/n hummed, walking back to the counter. Thomas watched her. She wasn’t unlike many other folk around these parts. Harsh ones. Especially when it comes to him. Due to his mask and… face. But with you…. You gave no reaction of ill will. Instead, a soft and kind emotion was given. Giving a smile, and helping him with the cut he hand. Welcoming him warmly then harshly. Thomas slowly got up. Inhaling. Grabbing the cup.

“Oh wait sir!”

He looks at her. Y/n came over with a bag. Filled with different sweets. He looked at it then gaze at Y/n.

“A hard working man deserves something for all the work he does.”

Thomas gazed at her.

“Don’t worry about the pay. It’s on the house!”

Thomas gazed the bag. Slowly taking it. His fingers accidentally brushed with hers. She did not flinch nor pull away. Thomas takes the bag. Y/n smiles at him. Seeing him walk away. Waving.

“See you later mister! Hope I see you again!”

Bell chimed. Thomas breathes out. Feeling heat of the sun again. Taking his path once more. His chest however…..

Felt Tight.

Out of all woman he met before until they left town. You were the rarest he seen. Like a rare piece of gold in a mine of silver. Soft hearted. Delicate. Kind. He felt… comfortable near you. Being at ease when he sees you. Calm when he hears you. He needed to come back….. No…..

He will come back.

#x reader #oneshot #female reader #leatherface #texas chainsaw massacre #thomas hewitt #bakery #baking #horror #yandere themes #obsession

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curiositydooropened · 7 months ago

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Ranged • 00: Prologue

After Hell brought Horror to the Heartland, America’s dirt roads and open woods began to fall to rot and ruin. To prevent further inter dimensional slips, the government dispatched several workers, such as yourselves, to travel the country saving small communities.

Pairing: special agent!Steve Harrington x special agent!Reader

Wordcount: 922 - This fic is episodic.

Warnings: very slowburn, coworkers to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore, weapons, fighting, murder, viruses, decay, monsters *This chapter contains mentions of animal harm, blood, and vomit/nausea.

This blog is 18+ only. I do not give permission for any of my fics to be duplicated, reposted, or put into AI. Thank you!

Navigation • Masterlist

---

Moodboard • Episode 01: Firetower

Blood shone in thick, dark splatters across a freckled cheekbone. It stuck his hair to his ear and his collar to his throat. It stained a shoulder. You watched it glimmer under street lamps, watched the clench of his knuckles around the steering wheel, watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he avoided your gaze.

There was no point saying it anymore, the words exhausted their meaning a year ago, but it was true nonetheless. You can’t save everyone. You both knew it. It didn’t hurt less.

You mopped at the blood splatter on your own cheeks with a spare t-shirt to flirt a discount out of the motel attendant. He slid you a key on a novelty ring while Steve parked on the far side of the lot.

You’d set the phone on its receiver by the time he exited the shower. You rinsed bloody clothes in the sink and brushed your teeth and slipped into an oversized t-shirt. You couldn’t remember who it belonged to. Maybe you’d picked it up at a thrift store along the way.

“Owens?” He asked, voice gruff, eyes red. A claw mark dug into the flesh of his cheek, to the bone.

You reached into your duffle for the first aid kit to procure ointment and a butterfly bandage. “Sit.”

He sighed, but did as instructed, towel falling to his shoulder. He winced as you patted ointment into his wound. “Did he say where to go next?”

You nodded, pressing his flesh together until it wrinkled near his eye. “Small town in Western Montana. Locals think it’s the water supply. Park ranger called it in.”

“How far?”

“Eight hours.” You zipped the kit closed and wedged it back into your bag.

“Okay,” he muttered, tossing his towel into a corner near the sink. He stretched sore muscles with a groan, and you watched the bruise on his ribs bloom in greens and browns. The swelling was down significantly from two days earlier. “We’ll leave first thing.”

He meant first light. You glanced out a fogged window at the glow of street lamps. The vacancy sign buzzed bright red. The sky remained dark just beyond.

“Okay.” You sighed and toed under linens that had yellowed years ago.

Steve triple checked the lock and toted his bat from the nook near the front door to his bedside. Then, he pulled his lighter from his pants pocket and shook it to his ear. By the look on his face, it needed a refill. He placed it to the bedside table between you, just beside the Bible.

“Are you okay?” He’d asked it four times already, a compulsion you’d learned to ignore.

“Yes.” You knew better than to reciprocate, knew he wouldn’t answer you anyway. You had minimal sleep hours left. It wasn’t worth the fight. You can’t save everyone.

“I’m going to turn the light out.” He warned, sliding himself into his own double bed. A large hand reached beneath an orange lampshade and the room went dark.

The darkness was spotted orange and blue, and you fought back the images of Steve’s fists meeting and elderly man’s face. You fought back the screams that rang in your ears, the copper taste on your tongue, and that pang that lay permanent in your nostrils.

Steve shifted in his bed, springs groaning beneath his weight, and you honed in on him instead. Every night, you fell asleep to the steady in and out of his breath, the comfort of him an arm’s length away.

—

The ranger’s uniform matched the coffee and cream in your styrofoam cup. The confusion knit between his brows matched those of dozens of local law enforcement across this country over the last year. You flashed you badges and asked him to take a seat, and hours later you were holding your hand over your nose to mask the smell of decay.

The corners of Steve’s mouth pulled upwards in a grim apology, sipping his own coffee.

A room full of National Guardsmen looked aghast. There was no guarantee a burn of that size could stay contained. Half of the state could be up in flames by the end of the week.

“Better than the alternative.” You promised.

The Spread started on a cattle ranch north of town, the herd dwindling as calves and heifers slipped into cracks and broke legs and necks. A large crevasse rotted through a patch in the back forty, splitting the land down the middle from government land near to the rancher’s estate.

On the back side, it seeped into the river. Trees were downed and turned to mush and rot. Where once sat a hunting perch, now folded into a vat in the ground.

The Ranger had taken you up by four-wheeler, an excursion neither of you had been prepared for in slacks and blazers. You supposed those were hazards of the job though, wading through the remnants of a hillside in nylon stockings.

Steve rolled the cuffs of his sleeves up past his elbows to dive into the meat of a fallen tree. It came back green and gooey, but nothing had nest inside. Not yet, at least.

“You called just in time,” he wiped his hand on his pant leg and you dry heaved a little.

“So this… virus,” the Ranger gestured to the pocket of melted flesh, root to branch, “it can infect humans too?”

“If it festers too long,” you nodded.

“And what might that look like?” He asked like he already knew the answer.

---

[A/N: Here she is. These two have been my new best friends lately, the one thing I've written that actually stuck because it felt good. Let's hope it stays that way so I can keep riding this train. I don't know how often I'll update this, but it'll be on-going. I'd love to write blurbs, and I have a few episode locations/monsters in mind.

I'd really appreciate it if you reblogged and/or left me a comment. Or if you're more inclined, head to my Ao3 and leave me a comment there. It'd really mean the whole world. xoxoxo]

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington slowburn #amanda's wips #wip fic #ranged fic

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narvan-jester · 2 months ago

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Save A Horse (Bull)

WC: 4,871

Tags: Alternate Universe - Western, Rodeo Competitions, Cowboy Hats, Alcohol, Making Out, Not Beta Read, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Alternate Universe - No Band

Read under the cut or on AO3

The black bull seemed somewhat more wild than before. Phantom's eyes widened a little as the man on screen tilted his face to the camera, flashing it a bright, confident smile. Fuck, maybe it was a good thing Aurora made him stay. The dude definitely wasn't hard on the eyes.

Phantom ends up grabbing a drink with Bull Rider Swiss.

Phantom pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off the incoming headache brought on by the overwhelming sights, sounds, and smells around him, endured for far too long. He let out a sigh. “Aurora, promise me that after this show we'll leave,” he asked, exasperated.

Aurora, his best friend for longer than he could remember, just smiled and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Come on, Tommy, I can't believe you're not enjoying it! Let loose a little, we haven't even seen the goats yet!”

Phantom frowned, wagging his finger in her face. “Oh no, no, no, I know how you work. I've known you long enough. Thirty minutes is going to turn into three hours before you know it. And!” He said, pressing the finger over her lips, keeping them shut as she tried to protest. “You only want to see this next show because you think the rider’s hot. I know you, you never enjoy bull riding.”

Aurora swatted Phantom’s hand away, a pout forming on her face. “You're no fun,” she whined, lifting her hat to sweep her hair back before settling it back on her head. “Besides, after this show there's barrel racing, and I wanted to study some of the riders. You know the Cirrus is here!”

God, Phantom wishes he wasn't so susceptible to Aurora’s charms. “Fine. We'll stay until after Cirrus' show, then we'll leave. Deal?”

Aurora pouted slightly. “Deal. Now come on, we have to get good seats.” She practically dragged him up the metal risers, sitting him down forcefully and plopping herself right next to him. “You never know, maybe you'll enjoy it!”

The pounding behind Phantom’s eyes only increased as a crowd began to gather, mumbling half-heartedly about how he was “missing the sheep shows” and had “already seen the steers”.

He tried valiantly to focus, for Aurora if anything, as the speakers crackled to life. He squinted up at the screen, watching a big black bull shake and toss his head from side to side, restless and stubborn in the closed-off space.

Some name shone on the screen, flashing away before he could read all of it, only catching something like “Swiss”. He rolled his eyes as Aurora poked him a little, straining her neck a little to talk to him close enough to be heard. “That's the one. He'll be last.”

Phantom gave some sort of a half-entertained grunt, seemingly enough for Aurora to not jab him in the ribs.

He didn't pay much attention to the few poor riders flung right off their smaller, tamer bulls, feeling Aurora tense in sympathy as each one hit the ground. Only when he faintly heard the intercom announce the name did he perk up for Aurora’s sake. Not that he needed to be listening, Aurora’s sharp punch in the shoulder was enough for him to straighten up, eyes locked on the screen.

The black bull seemed somewhat more wild than before, possibly helped along by the bull rope now tied around it. His eyes widened a little as the man on screen tilted his face to the camera, flashing it a bright, confident smile. Fuck, maybe it was a good thing Aurora made him stay. The dude definitely wasn't hard on the eyes.

Aurora must have sensed his thoughts, because she once more strained up to talk too loudly into his ear. “I told you he was hot!”

Phantom grumbled, face going red as he pushed her away playfully. “Shut up and watch the show.”

The man has since turned his attention from the camera, carefully mounting the bull. And if Phantom’s eyes were admiring his body as he settled onto the bull on the screens, no one needed to know.

He tore his gaze away from the screen as a shrill beep echoed through the arena, instead looking down to watch the bull rip from its spot into the arena, bucking wildly to rid itself of the parasite on its back.

Phantom couldn't keep his eyes off the man’s hips, rolling and shifting in quick adjustments to accommodate the rapid shift of weight, thighs pinching close to its flank and one hand raised in the air, the other wrapped white-knuckled around the rope.

His movements were fluid, oddly natural as if he fused with the bull itself.

It seemed both an eternity later and far too soon that another buzzer sounded, announcing the end of the ride just eight seconds later. The rider jumped off, rolling into the ground almost gracefully, before hopping to his feet and jogging to the edge where he easily slipped over the fence, dropping onto the other side without issue and quickly absorbed into a wave of bodies.

Phantom was nearly oblivious to the cheers around him, until Aurora giggled beside him. “I bet now you're glad I made you stay,” she teased.

Phantom rolled his eyes, but in truth, his headache was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. In fact, now the pain was nearly imperceptible, as if it wasn't there at all. “You,” he sighed. “I am going to get you back for this.”

Aurora giggled again. “Yeah, sure you will,” she said, eyes only half focused on the bull being rounded up below as they began setting up for the next event. “Come on, there's at least a few minutes until the barrel racing starts, let's grab something quick to eat.”

Phantom simply nodded, following Aurora down the stands with the rest of the previous crowd. Most of the crowd seemed to gather in a throng near where he had spotted the rider jump out of the pen, clearly clambering for a grin or a fist bump or an autograph from the little local celebrity.

He barely noticed he had stopped until Aurora was back at his side, tugging him away. “You absolute dunce, you stick with me, you hear me? I don't care if you want Mr. Swiss Cheese over there to give you a bright little grin, I want a cheeseburger.”

Phantom rolled his eyes, letting himself be dragged along by her. “When do you not want a cheeseburger?”

“Shut your mouth,” she snipped playfully, just continuing to pull him along.

* * *

The little burst of energy gained from watching the bull rider was drained from them too quick for their liking, headache once again presenting to pound at their temples as they sat through all the barrel racing for Aurora. Their gaze barely tracked the rider Aurora had wanted to see, only giving a hum of acknowledgement as she gushed over her methods.

He sort of registered her saying something to him, but it was drowned under a wave of fuzz and pain in his head. The next thing he really noticed was Aurora no longer being by his side, and the realization was enough to immediately zap his brain into overdrive.

His gaze immediately darted over the heads of the surrounding crowd, trying to grasp a glance of her tan hat and failing. He grumbled a little under his breath, wishing she hadn't worn the damned thing when she wasn't even competing just so he could see her colored hair bouncing through the crowd.

Phantom knew she could hold her own in a fight, unfortunately from personal experience, but that didn't still his worry of something serious happening to her. With no other reasonable idea in mind, he set to a brisk walk, hoping to somehow stumble across her.

He took several rounds around the arena, stopping at her favorite food trucks and brushing past the goats just in case. His breath only seemed to quicken in his worry, pulling out his phone to see if he could call her.

He bent over his screen, tapping it and clicking the power button. Fuck. Of course it stayed black, dead. He pocketed it, sighing more with worry than exasperation as he decided to branch out to places he hadn't looked.

God, it was loud. Concrete and sheet metal did not agree with his ears. The floor was covered in a fine layer of dirt and hay dust, which he kicked up with each step. The smell of sweet fair food mixing with animal feces turned his stomach, combined with the worry making it all that more nauseating.

Phantom wasn't even sure where he was walking, barely noticing the fewer people around him as he walked, opening and closing the little metal gates separating areas behind him.

A shrill whistle suddenly caught his attention, turning around to meet the source as someone approached him, rubbing sweat off their face with a bandana. “Ho boy, watcha’ doing back here? You got clearance, or you with anybody?”

His eyes squinted a little, faintly recognizing the face twisted in confusion. “Uh, not sure, but I'm looking for my friend. About yay high, pink and blue dyed hair?” Phantom asked, gesturing. “You seen her?”

The man shrugged. “Probably not back here. Y'know this is where the riders and such are supposed to be?”

Phantom’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit! My bad, haven't been to this venue before. I'll go look elsewhere,” he stammered, stepping back slightly.

The man grinned at him and that finally sparked Phantom’s memory. Jesus fuck, that was the bull rider. Swiss, or whatever his name was. “No need to worry, buddy, no one minds much, just as long as you don't cause problems on purpose. Besides, maybe…” he trailed off, scrubbing a little at the stubble on his face as he thought. “You said pink and blue dyed hair?” He asked.

Phantom’s eyes lit up a little. “Yeah, about shoulder length, and a tan hat.”

Swiss' eyes widened and he chuckled, as he patted Phantom’s shoulder like they were old friends. “I wouldn't bother myself looking for her right now, unless it's a real emergency. I saw Cirrus walking out of here with a little lass matching just the description.”

Phantom lifted his hand to his face, exasperated. “You're joking, right?”

“Nope! Seems like your little friend has wormed her way into the eyes of the big dogs! Trust me, if you go after her now she will kill you, if Cirrus doesn't do it first,” Swiss commented, a bit too casually for Phantom’s liking.

Swiss flashed another of his smiles at Phantom, and his short-lived annoyance vanished in an instant. “Message heard loud and clear. Might as well congratulate you for your time on the bull out there before I get out of your hair.”

Swiss' expression shifted minimally, rummaging in his pockets for something. “Yeah, yeah, it was a tough bull. You got a hat or something for me to sign?”

Phantom’s brow furrowed. “No, no, I don't need an autograph. Never a huge fan of bull riding.”

Swiss' face shifted again, seemingly more light-hearted as he tucked a sharpie back into his pocket. “Damn, hitting me with that now?” He joked, once again slapping Phantom on the shoulder.

Phantom’s face flushed as he groaned, hiding it in his hands. “You know what I meant,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah, I catch your drift. What's your name, kid? You compete in anything?” Swiss asked, nudging Phantom again.

Phantom forced his hands back to his sides with more effort than it should have taken. “I'm Phantom, but most people call me Tom or Tommy. More normal, easier to remember. I typically show sheep or steers, some roping, but this one was too high level for me to really get in,” he told Swiss, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Swiss shrugged, beginning to walk away, gesturing with one hand for Phantom to follow him. “Phantom ain't a bad name. God, at least you're not stuck with the nickname Swiss.” He raised a hand as Phantom opened his mouth to object, almost as though he had sensed it. “Trust me, used to not be as much of a good thing.”

Phantom clicked his mouth shut audibly, nodding along. “No, no, I get it. It's why I started going by Tom instead of Phantom.”

Swiss whistled. “Trust me, kid, you take that uniqueness and hold it tight. No one’s gonna watch if there ain't no bull on the field.”

Phantom tilted his head minutely at the comparison, tucking it away in their mind to ponder over later. “So when do you think Aurora- er, my friend, is going to be back?” He asked, changing the subject.

Swiss chuckled, hunching his shoulders a little bit as that dazzling grin lit up his face once more. “I'd give you two hours at best. At worst, you ain’t seeing hair nor hide of her till morning.”

“Fucking hell,” Phantom groaned, running his hand over his face. “I'm not sure whether to be more disappointed or proud of her.”

That got Swiss to let loose more than his previous chuckles, laughter setting something fizzing and popping in Phantom’s stomach. “Yeah, yeah,” Swiss said, waving away the last of his laughter with a hand. “Say, since you're probably stuck here for a little longer, you wanna sneak out and grab a quick drink with me?”

Phantom's eyes nearly popped from his head. “Well, if you're offering,” he joked, trying to slow his jumping and stuttering heartbeat to a normal speed once more.

Swiss chuckled again, flashing Phantom yet another bright smile. “C’mon, I'll drive us there if you won't mind. My truck ain't far.”

Phantom nodded almost over enthusiastically, energy seeping to pop over his skin. “Yeah, yeah, sounds good!”

Swiss nodded, smile dropping into something more sober as he reached an exit door, pulling his keys into his hand in preparation. “Don't stop for anything, don't talk to anyone. Try and walk as quick as possible, I really don't want to end up signing fifteen more autographs,” he groaned, rolling his wrist.

Phantom nodded, attitude sobering with Swiss as he stepped through the door, pace immediately fast enough to have Phantom stumbling to keep up.

Swiss stopped beside a tall black truck, unlocking it and climbing in. Phantom took to the other side, lifting himself up slightly into the passenger's seat. Swiss shut his door firmly and Phantom did the same, watching as Swiss leaned his head back, eyes closed with a sigh.

Phantom took the moment to rove his eyes over the interior of the truck. Several crushed energy drink cans lay on the floor at his feet, more on the dash and in the backseat. Otherwise, the truck was sleek and clean, furnished by shiny black leather.

Phantom’s eyes darted back to Swiss as he heard a little chuckle, smiling a little awkwardly at him as Swiss gazed back. “Sorry about the mess, most of my buddy’s don't mind,” he said, straightening in his seat and sliding his key into the ignition. “Just throw them in the back seat if they're bothering you.”

“No, no, it's alright,” Phantom said, mind a little dazed still. The conversation drew to an awkward silence as Phantom drew the seatbelt over his body, clicking it into place. “Know any good places around here?” He asked, trying to get the conversation up and running again.

Swiss chuckled, shaking his head as he did the same. “No, no, not really from around here. You?”

“Couple towns over,” Phantom replied, studying Swiss as he began to pull out of the grounds. “We just gonna show up to the first bar we see and hope it ain't crowded?”

Swiss shrugged, a sly smile on his face. “Well, I know one place. You a fan of underground shows?”

Phantom shrugged a little. “I'm pretty much up to anything as long as the beer’s good and the music’s good,” he stated simply.

“Then you might damn near love this place,” Swiss grinned, tossing a glance to Phantom before leaning over and turning up the radio, letting the music fill the truck for the drive.

A few minutes later, Swiss pulled into a little near-empty parking garage, switching off the ignition. “Alright, Phantom, I'm about to blow your mind,” he said, stretching both his arms high over his head with a groan.

Phantom shrugged, a little nip of anxiety working its way into his brain. “You didn't bring me here to kill me, did you?”

Swiss barked out a laugh, warm enough for Phantom to forget his previous worry. “God, of course not! Trust me a little here,” he joked, slipping out of the truck, Phantom following.

Swiss waited until Phantom rounded the truck to meet him, setting off not in the direction of the exit, but instead to a small metal maintenance door inset into the wall. “Wait, Swiss, what are you doing?” Phantom asked, heart rate skipping as Swiss reached for the handle.

“Dude,” Swiss placated, pointing at the metal plaque. “I said it was gonna be an underground show.”

Phantom fixed his attention on the plaque, quickly skimming the words. Raindrop Bar. “Huh,” he muttered simply, tilting his head at the door as Swiss rolled his eyes playfully and pushed his way in.

The atmosphere inside was far different from the empty parking garage they had been in just a moment before. It was populated, for one, eyes pinning on them the moment the door opened before slipping away one by one. It was also louder, too, a little rag-tag band up on a makeshift stage playing something deep and rocky. Dull colored lights swept over the small crowd gathered in front of the stage, and it took a moment for Phantom to realize that Swiss was walking away from him.

They hurried to follow, nearly tripping over themselves as they caught up to Swiss right as he slid into a seat at the bar, flashing a grin at the bartender. Phantom slid in beside him, shifting to get comfortable in the polished wood seat.

The bartender smiled back at Swiss, immediately turning to greet him, sashaying his hips. “Swiss, Swiss, Swiss, what am I going to do with you?” He cooed affectionately.

Phantom’s eyes quickly darted over the bartender’s body, a casual glance-over before his brain caught up to him and his eyes locked on him again. To say he was beautiful would be an understatement, with his curled black hair shining nearly blue around his eyes and with the silver glinting from his ears and face. Their eyes traveled lower for a moment before they diverted their attention, a little panicked and flushed, back to Swiss.

“God, Rainy, don't even try to get on me for this,” Swiss jeered playfully. “You're not much better.”

The bartender turned his attention to Phantom, forcing him to tear his eyes away from Swiss. “Now what's your name and your order?” He asked quickly, stepping back to grab a cup.

“Uh-” Phantom stuttered, glancing at Swiss for a little help. God, it did not help. Swiss was gazing at him with a hungry look in his eyes, grinning lazily. He tore his eyes away as quick as possible, warmth brewing in his gut. “Name's Phantom. How about a good ol’ judge of character?” Phantom asked, mind too frazzled to grasp anything else. “Whatever you think I'd like.”

The bartender nodded, hips swaying a little bit as he whipped up what looked like a cherry sour, sliding it to Swiss. “Gotcha.” He hummed idly, pulling stuff towards himself before speaking again. “So how’d little Swiss here pick you up?”

Phantom shrugged, glancing at Swiss only to be met once more with his grin and forcing himself to look away. “I wandered where I shouldn't have, and sweet talked my way into my current situation,” Phantom joked, trying to play up his confidence. The bartender hummed, eyebrow twitching upward as he slid Phantom a cocktail, orange slice perched on the edge of the glass. Phantom lifted the glass to his lips, sipping it and humming appreciatively at the perfect mix of flavoring and liquor.

Swiss sighed, sipping his own drink. “Yeah, yeah, pretty much,” he commented, waving his hand dismissively. “Phantom, by the way, this is Rain. Good friend.”

Phantom nodded at Rain, smile a little tight as he took another sip of his drink. Rain flourished his hands, shrugging and lolling his head to the side. “Owner of this fine establishment,” he added, voice a little playful.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Swiss joked, taking his hat off his head and tossing it playfully at Rain. Rain caught it, slipping it onto his own head and sticking his tongue out at Swiss as Phantom felt his chest constrict, knowing exactly what that meant.

He diverted his gaze, and downed the rest of his drink, barely registering the taste and instead reveling in the mild burn as it slipped down his throat.

Swiss chuckled at Rain, glancing back at Phantom as he clinked his empty glass back onto the table, stubbornly refusing to look at him. Phantom could feel his expression fall. “Whoa, dude, you okay? Are you still worried about your friend?”

Phantom clenched his teeth, shaking his head and rubbing at the side of his nose a little, huffing, refusing to make eye contact.

Swiss beckoned for his hat back from Rain, quickly sucking the last of his drink up as he shifted slightly in his seat, reaching into a back pocket to slide a ten over the bar. “Alright, let's get you back,” Swiss said, voice quick as he stood, clapping Phantom on the shoulder.

God, he wished he could refuse, but his truck was back at the grounds and his phone was dead so he couldn't call a ride. Damnit. He stood, eyes still stubbornly lowered as he followed Swiss out, missing the look Rain threw him.

He slipped into the passenger seat without saying a word to Swiss, refusing to meet eyes with him. Swiss got in as well, shutting the door, but not starting the ignition.

As the tension stretched between them, Phantom finally glanced up, meeting Swiss' eyes where they were locked on him. “You going to acknowledge me now?” Swiss asked, voice a little sour.

God, maybe alcohol wasn't the best idea for him. That drink must have been stronger than they thought, rolling their eyes and scoffing. “Just take me back, dude.”

Swiss tilted his head. “No,” he deadpanned.

“No?” Phantom sputtered indignantly, glaring at Swiss.

Swiss crossed his arms in front of his chest, brown eyes glowing almost gold from the interior lights shining down on them. Phantom furrowed his brow, cowered a little, suddenly too aware of how much scrawnier they were than Swiss.

“You're a bitch,” Phantom hummed, waving him away and turning his face out the opposite window.

“What upset you so bad?” Swiss asked, voice low and gravely behind Phantom. He stayed stubbornly quiet, making Swiss sigh. “I know this is about Rain and the hat.”

“Yeah, it is about the fucking hat!” Phantom spat with no real malice behind the words, feeling like nothing more than a jealous schoolgirl.

Swiss groaned, and Phantom spared a glance as he dragged his hand over his face, rubbing at the stubble on the sides. “Christ,” he muttered.

“Just take me back,” Phantom muttered, voice a little too quiet. “I was being stupid.”

He suddenly felt a hand grasp his, and gasped indignantly as Swiss dragged it closer to himself onto the center console. Phantom fixed a glare to the top of Swiss' hat as he bent over his hand, writing rapidly into the skin of it.

The moment Swiss straightened, Phantom snatched his hand back, a glance at the skin of his hand making his breath stutter just a bit as he realized what was written there.

Swiss was waiting as Phantom looked back up at his eyes, offering a small smile at him. Phantom squinted, then sighed, eyes darting down again. “Fine. Apology accepted.”

Swiss raised an eyebrow. “That was enough of an apology for you?”

Phantom gazed into Swiss' eyes, scrutinizing them. “What more apology do you have to offer?” He asked, maybe a tinge recklessly.

Swiss slowly raised his hand to the one he had just written on, brushing lightly over the knuckle, sparks flying from the contact. His eyes never left where they were locked on Phantom’s, and he found he couldn't look away either.

It stayed that way for a few moments, long enough for the interior lights to click off. In the dark silence, Swiss spoke again. “Can I kiss you?”

Any other circumstance and Phantom would have said no. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, or the drying ink on his hand, or the tingles in his gut when he recalled Swiss' grin, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he nodded, just a little tilt of the head, leaning towards Swiss.

Swiss met him halfway, lips crashing together in the dark and noses knocking into each other. It wasn't simple or graceful, instead woven with too many complex emotions to study in the dark.

Phantom pulled back for air, chest heaving a little as he tilted his forehead into Swiss’, nudging up his cowboy hat slightly. It seemed almost intimate for a moment, breathing in each other's air, until Phantom darted in again, mouth open and hot against Swiss’.

A hand fisted into his shirt at his back, pulling him closer. The kiss was nearly ravenous, and Phantom couldn't seem to get enough. Swiss pulled away for air this time, and Phantom felt a thin string of spit connect their lips for a moment before falling away.

They sat for a few more moments, chests heaving in tandem as they breathed in each other's warm, humid breath. Swiss twisted his head, nosing at Phantom's neck, hat falling onto the floor without care.

Phantom gasped as Swiss' warm lips plastered themselves to his neck, hands snaking around to grip Swiss' shirt tightly in his hands, eyes fluttering slightly.

Warm, wet kisses were gently placed along his neck, trailing upward to a point just under his ear. Phantom must have whined, gasped, something, because Swiss chuckled before gripping the skin lightly between his teeth and sucking.

“Oh fuck, Swiss, Swiss,” Phantom stammered, nails digging into Swiss' back from where they were clenched.

Swiss pulled away, eyes searching Phantom’s in the low light. “Too much?” He asked, a little sheepish.

“Fuck no,” Phantom managed to mutter, dragging Swiss back towards him and crashing their lips together with more passion than before. Open-mouthed and messy, Phantom reveled in the taste of whiskey on his tongue, whining as Swiss nipped gently at his bottom lip before pulling back again, locking eyes.

They were both panting, hungry with passion. “I need to get you back,” Swiss whispered, voice still too loud for the quiet space punctuated only by their heavy breaths.

“I know,” Phantom replied, voice equal in volume, still unable to tear their eyes away from each other.

“Fuck,” Swiss sighed, pulling away with great effort and sliding the key into the ignition, sparking the engine to life. He picked his hat up from where it had fallen, slipping it back onto his head.

Phantom straitened, a blush spreading on their face as they buckled quickly, embarrassed as light from yellow street lamps washed away the privacy.

It was quiet the entire drive back to the grounds, breaths returning to a normal pace as they kept their eyes averted from each other the whole way.

Swiss eased into a parking spot at the grounds, shifting the truck into park. Phantom undid his seatbelt, opening the door and preparing to step out when Swiss' voice stopped him. “Hey.”

He glanced up to meet Swiss' eyes, irises carrying hope in their deep blue, nearly purple depths.

Swiss took his hat in his hand, reaching and settling it onto Phantom’s hair with a tired smirk. “Call me?” He asked, voice softer than his words suggested.

Phantom nodded, mind feeling fuzzy as he absent-mindedly brushed his fingers over his neck where he could feel bruises forming. “Yeah,” he replied, voice equally as soft as he stepped out of the truck, shutting the door. He stood there as Swiss shifted into reverse, pealing away from him.

And if Phantom stood there for a few minutes, rubbing along his neck, it was nobody's business.

Finally Phantom forced himself into action, glancing around to gain his bearings before setting off in the direction of his truck. His eyes lit up a little as he saw a familiar shape leaning against it, face illuminated by her phone screen. She glanced up as Phantom came closer, smiling at him, before furrowing her eyes at him.

“Did you-”

Phantom cut her off before she could continue. “I won't say anything if you won't,” he mumbled, eyes pointedly fixed on similar marks along the column of her throat.

She shrugged in reply.

“Were you waiting long?” Phantom asked, sidling up to the driver's door, opening it.

Aurora climbing in the other side, shrugging again. “Just a few minutes.” Phantom shut his door, turning on the truck before reaching to the gear shift. Aurora’s eyes locked on his hand as it shifted, widening as she chuckled. “Damn, you did get lucky!” She exclaimed.

“Shut up,” Phantom mumbled, tugging his sleeve over the marker half-heartedly as he began steering them in the direction of home.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #ghost fic #cowboy au

34 notes · View notes

mamayan · 1 year ago

Note

Nghhhh your event is delicious, I'M IN LOVE???? Keep being awesome. I'll kiss you all over your pretty face 🥺❤️

97 | 72 | 8 | 6 with Giyuu

Bang! … No bullet was shot—

Giyuu Tomioka

Somnophilia || Yandere || “You cry so pretty.” || “I need you like I need air in my lungs, like I need blood in my veins, like I need the earth to keep spinning.”

tw: Fem! Reader • Somnophilia • Dacryphilia • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Light Bondage • Dubcon • Overstimulation • Oral (F) • NSFW

wc: 1028

Dark blue eyes drank in the sight before him greedily.

You, so soundly asleep it was a wonder how you’d survived in the world so long, were lightly tied to the bedposts of a western bed frame gifted not long ago by a grateful civilian he’d saved. His head tilted to the side as he stalked around once more to ensure you were well and truly secured.

Pleasure thrummed through him, your soft frame left nude and vulnerable for only his eyes made something primal ignite in his chest.

He itched to hold you tightly, mark you up so there wouldn’t be a doubt in anyone’s mind, including your own, who you belonged to.

Another instinct won, a more tender feeling which urged him to cherish and caress you sweetly because you deserve nothing less than his complete adoration.

He strips, muscles taunt as he crawls onto the bed and over your spread form, curious when you might wake up. You looked precious like this, face relaxed and soothed as if you liked how you were offered up to him.

He struggled to stay silent when his calloused fingers trailed up the smooth skin of your thighs, up your hips and over your stomach where he allowed the full weight of his hands to rest just under your breasts.

Your lungs expanded with each inhale, and he spent several moments just admiring how your chest moved as you breathed.

He grew impatient as a soft noise escaped past your lips, eager mouth descending to lick one soft nipple, his saliva coating it as the cool air dried and hardened the bud so he could suck it.

A few more soft breathy noises echoed as if to encourage him, his hands finally joining as he ravished your chest, mouth sucking on the delicate flesh until the capillaries below burst and bruises formed.

Still you did not wake, as he moved up your chest to your neck, where returned the same treatment. His hands moved down to your spread legs where your slit was exposed. Juxtaposed to his attention on your neck and collarbone, Giyuu let his thumb rub small circles over your clit with gentle pressure.

You moaned, halting his ministrations on your neck as he froze to ensure he hadn’t misheard.

His thumb exerted a little more force, and in return he was rewarded with another gorgeous noise from you as he smiled.

His lips brushed your open mouth, tongue easily slipping past without any resistance as he toyed with your tongue, his body heating and cock leaking as he savored your taste.

When would you wake and show him those beautiful eyes? He kissed down your face and chest, sliding down your body until he could stare at your uncovered drooling hole. His thumb left your clit, two fingers easily slipping through your wet folds to spread them and reveal all of you for his eyes.

Then he was leaning down and letting his tongue taste you there too.

His wet muscle slicking you further as he groaned aloud, giving you a few good licks before he was noisily slurping at your hole up to your clit where he sucked the nub gently. Rolling his tongue around the pearl while your hips twitched and jerked, restrained ankles preventing you from closing your legs or retreating from his hot fervent mouth.

You groaned, groggily tossing and being unable to shift as he lapped and lavished your sensitive bundle of nerves while a finger began to wiggle inside of your tight entrance. His rough digit speared inside your gummy walls until it rubbed a ribbed patch that had you clamping down and whining for him.

You awoke gasping, arms straining to break away from your restraints as a coil snapped and you came on Giyuu’s face.

Your foggy mind didn’t clear quickly enough, your body overwhelmed with pleasure as something wet and warm drank down your cum, tongue slipping just past the opening of your pussy to catch every drop you released.

Tears welled up and spilled down your cheeks as you cried out and jerked, unable to pull away as you spasmed from overstimulation as another wave easily rose and crashed over you.

“S-stop—!” Your back arched painfully, jolting as Giyuu gave one last kiss to your clit before he obliged and lifted his head, his dark blue gaze connecting with your own.

He couldn’t help but coo at your cute appearance, sleepy face and teary eyes endearing. He easily crawled up your body again, blanketing your form with his own as he licked up a drop which had streaked down your cheek.

“You cry so pretty…” he murmured against you, not letting you catch your breath before he was lining his thick cock up with your drooling hole below.

“G-Giyuu why—? Hgn!?” Your eyes go wide in panic as he pushes the squishy bulbous tip inside of you, your slick easing his passage as the stretch becomes wider and harder. You have nothing to hold onto, nothing to grasp or anchor beside his cock filling you with each ridged inch.

“Why?” He echoes, eyes unapologetic despite the strain he put on you with his slow entrance, pushing and forcing all of himself inside until he felt the resistance of your cervix. More tears welled, but you couldn’t even cry before he was pulling back quickly to sheath himself inside again, your body tethered in place and made to take all of the brunt force he exerted.

His pace is slow but brutal, claiming as you gasp and tremble under him.

He chuckles, eyes crinkling as a wicked grin forms on his beautiful lips usually so devoid of emotion.

“Because I need you…,” his cock drags deliciously inside of you. “like I need air in my lungs,” his pelvis kisses against your clit, rubbing and stimulating you. “Like I need blood in my veins…,” he grunts as you tighten, pretty features scrunching up as the pleasure builds once more. His eyes are darker, almost wild and unhinged with possessiveness, “Like I need the earth to keep spinning.”

“You are why…” he whispers as you come apart around him.

Post dividers/@cafekistune

#500 Event #Giyuu Tomioka #Giyuu Tomioka x reader #Kny Giyuu #Giyuu Tomioka smut #Giyuu Tomioka x reader smut #kny Giyuu smut #kny smut #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer smut #x fem reader

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chocodile · 1 year ago

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Now, it's pretty well-known Hyden loathes carrots and loves rare, red meat. However - what might be his favorite dishes or ingredients besides that? And drinks, besides wine? Oh, and speaking of wine! Does he, perhaps, have a favorite sort? And, finally - what way does he usually eat chocolate? Hopefully he loves brownies - Mr. North definitely should bake more and then serve some.

Hyden is a Western Kingdom northerner, and his taste in food reflects his cultural upbringing: he likes rich food. Aside from red meat, he also enjoys other typical northern fare such as creamy chowders and dense dessert breads (Though he prefers softer breads such as pound cake that are easier to chew with his missing teeth rather than the infamously chewy "thickbread"). He has been living in the middle portion of the Western Kingdom for most of his life and has picked up favorite foods from other cultures, but his favorite dinner will always be a big bloody prime rib, a glass of expensive red wine, and a fruit tart for dessert. Other favorite foods include macaroni and cheese and dates with walnuts. He doesn't drink many things that aren't alcoholic but does enjoy sweetened milk drinks every now and then.

Post-unfreezing, he finds many of the foods common in the apocalyptic "post-fall" world unpalatable. It has been a difficult adjustment indeed. He is relieved that macaroni and cheese still exists and that such a luxury food is available in boxed instant meal form, presumably for nobles like him that are a little short on funds and servants these days.

As for chocolate, he likes everything he's tasted since being unfrozen. Theo's chocolate chip cookies are a favorite, but he also likes brownies (the dense, rich texture reminds him of dessert breads back home) and enjoys eating chocolate on its own. Were he to figure out where Theo keeps his chocolate chips (and if he understood that the chips on their own are already sweet with no additional preparation), Theo would have trouble keeping him from eating his baking ingredients.

A fun side note: Something Hyden will never admit and probably doesn't even realize is that his taste is very easily influenced by whatever has an image of luxury attached to it. If it's seen as high class and expensive, he wants it. If it's seen as peasant food, he's too good for it. As a result, he canonically hates lobster, but a modern AU of him would consider it one of his favorite foods.

#ask #ask response #verse: amaranthine #my ocs #hyden #penny #furry #anthro #doodle #sketch #food #food //

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a-fluffer-nutter · 23 days ago

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Certain Conditions

A/N - Day 15 of Tickletober!! Today's prompt is one of my favorites: Are you ticklish? I would like to say: Hey @otomiyaa and @fanficsandfluff I cooked us up some Twisters fluff! I hope you both and everyone else enjoys!!

Word Count: 1,440

“No way,” Kate perked up from her spot on the bed, sitting up so her head was supported by her arm, elbow pressing into the squeaky mattress as she excitedly eyed Tyler.

“No way what?” Tyler repeated, turning his head on the pillow so he could see his girlfriend better. He hadn’t expected Kate to break the silence between them, the duo having been quiet as they watched a terrible disaster movie starring Jake Gyllenhaal. Aside from the occasional “but that could never happen!” the two were silent as they cuddled on the bed of the first Best Western they could find in Kansas that evening.

The team had been out chasing for the last few days. There hadn’t been many storms with the right conditions to become large tornado producing supercells, which was good for all the towns they drove through, but they had managed to spot a smaller twister just outside of Hays, Kansas, which was where they found refuge for the night. After stopping at Freddy’s for burgers and custard, the team split up into different rooms. Now that Kate had secured funding for their research, they were able to splurge a bit on hotel expenses.

“Are you ticklish?” Kate mused, unable to bite back her smile. Brows raised in a startled confusion; Tyler just stared at her.

“Why you think that?” Tyler drawled, smirking up at her.

“You made a noise,” practically vibrating with excitement, Kate reached out and poked the man’s side. Now expecting it, the tiny twitch his muscles did had been stunted and controlled.

“You’re making a lot of noises right now,” letting out a small huff from his nostrils, Tyler mimicked her, poking Kate in the ribs. The woman let out a little giggle and smacked his hand away.

“You’re gaslighting me,” letting out an exaggerated whine, Kate decided she was going to take drastic measures.

“And why would I do that?” Tyler let out a chuckle as Kate rolled over onto him. With absolutely no resistance from Tyler, Kate was able to hug his waist with her legs, pinning him onto the bed. Both palms pressed into his chest as if she was about to perform CPR, Tyler let out a huff of disbelief. “Why, hello there, love.”

“Do it again,” Kate said, using both hands to gently tap her fingers on the side of his ribs. Wiggling his torso a bit, Tyler stayed focused on the woman on top, completely fascinated and in awe of her actions. Kate was a scientist; if she had a hypothesis, she was going to certainly experiment to get answers.

As if to taunt her, Tyler lifted his other arm under his pillow, lifting his head slightly as he intertwined his fingers. Appearing absolutely relaxed; Tyler gave Kate a look that said, “go ahead.” So that’s what she did.

Tracing each rib slowly, as if to not miss any micro-reaction, Kate felt his skin twitch beneath her fingertips. Her fingers would start at the sternum, select which rib to follow, and slide her fingers as far back as she could reach, then hop up to the next rib. As this went on, Tyler watched her eyes as they were locked onto his skin, meticulously scanning and looking for answers. His breathing remained even and calm, but goosebumps spread across his body as she trailed the pads of her fingers along his pectoral muscles. Next, her fingers journeyed along his collar bone down to his rotator cuff and back to continue against his throat. This touch made him shiver as her soft touch reached the soft scruff on the underside of his chin to his jaw line, following the bone up to his ears, eliciting a sigh of serenity. Nails dragging along the outline of his ears, her exploration led her down the sides of his neck.

“Feels good,” he whispered, eyes now closed as he focused on the pleasant sensation clouding his brain. Letting out a soft chuckle as Kate’s fingers slid across the base of his neck, Tyler’s chuckle became a bit more sporadic as her nails slid into his armpits. Now grinning wide, Tyler’s shoulders bounced as the sound of his laugh stayed in his throat, the dam not cracked fully.

“I knew it,” Kate beamed victoriously, her nails skittering across the soft skin quicker.

“Never said I wasn’t,” Tyler drawled, doing a good job to not lose his composure. “The rest of them don’t think I am.”

“Have they never tried?” Kate paused; head tilted like a confused puppy. She had seen the others poking each other and giving each other little cheer-up tickles every other day it seemed, so why wouldn’t they do it with Tyler?

“I can hide really well,” Tyler shrugged, which Kate knew was a fact. With how little he had reacted during her experiment, it was clear that Tyler was likely only reacting at all because it was Kate that was tickling him. “There’s only one spot I think I’m truly ticklish.”

“And where is that?” interest piqued; Kate reached down to stroke Tyler’s cheek.

“Had a friend squeeze my knee back in college. Tickled like hell if I remember right,” he replied, running his fingers through her hair. Letting out a soft laugh when Kate’s eyes lit up, Tyler said, “Go ahead and try.”

Like a child waking up on Christmas morning, Kate was excited as she scooched back enough that she slipped down his legs and was now seated on his shins. Giving him a reconfirming glance, Kate wrapped her hands around the spot just above his knees and squeezed. Jolting, Tyler let out a bark of a laugh, startling them both. Determined to get as much data as she could, Kate continued to squeeze the area, then place her palms on his kneecaps while using her fingers to gently dig into the skin surrounding the patella.

“Shit!” Tyler’s laugh was deep and came straight from his belly. Nose scrunched; Tyler’s smile framed his face as he let the laughter consume him. Slipping her fingers behind his knees, Tyler’s laugh became a bit higher pitched and wheezy as he hugged himself.

“I wonder,” Kate pondered aloud, and while she continued to scribble into the back of his left knee, she reached forward with her right hand and skimmed her fingers over his abdomen.

“Kate!” Tyler squeaked out before slipping into silent laughter, her stubby nails tracing along his lower belly and around his navel. Intrigued by this discovery, Kate let go of his knee and crawled forward. Once she found an opening, Kate’s fingers wormed their way into his armpits once again and provoked a whole different reaction than the low chuckles he let out earlier.

“You’re wrangling this tornado, that’s for sure,” Tyler managed to joke between peals of wheezy laughter.

“Interesting,” Kate stated in a scholarly tone as Tyler cackled, pressing his arms into himself in attempts to still Kate’s fingers. “You’re like a tornado! You need conditions to be met to be ticklish, just like how a tornado can only spawn if the pressure and temperature conditions are correct!

“I am!” Kate exclaimed, her enthusiasm contagious as Tyler laughed a bit harder. “If only it was this easy to wrangle a tornado.”

“If only,” Tyler panted the moment Kate withdrew her hands and began to run her palms over his torso as if she was smoothing out wrinkles on a shirt.

“I am definitely going to start tickling you more,” Kate giggled, wiggling a bit like an excited dog. Tyler let out a huff before squeezing her hips, forcing her to let out a squeal.

“If you tickle me when we’re near a tornado, I will crash into it and we’ll both die,” Tyler teased as he continued to tase her sides.

“I would never do that,” Kate giggled hysterically, grabbing at his hands to push them away. “Though if you don’t stop being mean, I will definitely tell the crew about your little secret.”

“Then I’d tell everyone about your little secret,” Tyler warned, both hands kneading into her tummy.

“Deal,” Kate managed to grab one of Tyler’s hands and shake it as if they had just finished a successful business meeting. As Tyler pulled his hands away, Kate flopped down beside him and resumed her previous position before her experimentation took place, cuddling into his side. Inhaling deeply, Kate became enraptured by Tyler’s natural smell and snuggled closer, resting her head on his chest, an arm draped over his belly. Closing her eyes, Kate did not fight back against the urge to fall asleep, completely comfortable in the arms of her love.

#tickle fic #rose writes #tickletober #twisters #tyler owens #kate carter

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itspronouncedtessa · 1 year ago

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The "English or continental" debate is problematic and ultimately detrimental to the community.

Every time I see one of these "are you one or the other" posts, polls, tweets (Xcreets?), blogs, vlogs, whatevers, I get so annoyed. Undies fully twisted.

So indulge me and let's get into this.

First things first:

This is not an attack on pickers or throwers specifically. Any knitting style is valid. If the end result is even, non-twisted stitches that you enjoyed putting together, you're doing it right.

That said, I have 3 major gripes with the concept of "English vs continental" knitting:

1. The terminology. The terms "English" and "continental" were coined during WWII, as continental is actually German and the English were (rightly, at the time) uncomfortable doing anything the German way, or admitting that that way could be more efficient.

As we're about 80 years removed from the war, it might be time to accept that neither is objectively better and that German isn't a dirty word. We can, and should, use English and German, or throwing and picking respectively.

2. It's exclusionary to new knitters. The whole picking vs throwing discussion has made it so that new knitters don't know there are other options. If you're new to knitting, you get the impression that these are the only two options and if you can't do either, you can't knit.

Not to mention that the overwhelming majority of patterns and instructional videos are written or made exclusively for English or German methods. Which means if you want or need to use a different style, you need the additional step and skill of translating the pattern to fit your method. This requires a certain level of understanding of the underlying techniques that new knitters don't have. (Which is why I prefer charts, but that's a whole different rant.)

3. It's exclusionary to experienced knitters who don't pick or throw. The term continental for specifically German knitting dismisses all the other non-German European styles.

An incomplete list:

Eastern, or Russian, where you purl clockwise instead of counterclockwise, mounting the stitch backwards and knitting through the back loop on the right side. Creates the same stitch, but can be so much smoother to execute. Also very useful if you're doing rows of YO, ssk, as it eliminates the need to reorient the stitches before knitting them together.

Norwegian, where you purl without the need to bring the yarn fully forward. This is hard to describe in words, so I highly recommend googling for a video on Norwegian purls. It's a game changer for rib or seed stitch.

Portuguese, where you tension the yarn at the front of the work, looping it over your neck or through a pin. My personal preferred main method. Super helpful for those of us who lack finger strength to comfortably tension at the back. Makes purling a breeze.

Irish or lever knitting. Done with straight needles and (mostly) one-handed. Extremely helpful for people with disabilities. Also one of the fastest methods. You should check out videos on this, the speed is magical.

Flicking (not exactly regional), which is right handed but instead of throwing, you move the right needle to grab the yarn. Also difficult to explain, so check out some videos on this, too. Its a very quick method with minimal wrist movement. If you have the finger strength for tensioning it's worth practicing this, as it's so quick.

All of these are valid techniques, most of them are from continental Europe, none of them are included in the question "English or continental?".

And all of the above doesn't even get into the non-western, non-English, non-European styles there must be around the world, that I can't find through Google, because the English speaking world only uses the above mentioned methods.

Also, knitters that use other methods than picking or throwing are wildly underrepresented in the community, giving the knitting scene a culturally very white, western European image. Knitting could be a far more inclusive hobby if we'd embrace all styles.

In short, we need to change the question to "tell me about your technique" and learn from each other. Combining multiple methods (I use 3 or 4 interchangeably, depending on the pattern) can increase efficiency and enjoyment. And if you're struggling in any way, there might be a technique out there that better suits your needs. Asking about English vs continental isn't going to provide that information.

So tell me about your technique, especially if you use or know of any knitting methods that aren't western or European, I would LOVE to hear about that. Let's share and celebrate all the ways we knit.

#knitting #English or continental #rant #Knitting techniques

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befuddled-calico-whump · 11 months ago

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Total$hit$how: AU Masterlist

DYSTOPIAN

AU Summary

Fall Guy

By the Stars

MILITARY

AU Summary

Hunter's Interrogation

Sahota's Side (cw: starvation)

Rescue (Sahota)

WESTERN

Left Behind

Failed Robbery

Recovery

Bonding

Showgirl

MENAGERIE

AU Summary

Joy (Anggitay)

Kaius (Kinnara)

Jericho (Merman)

Benji (Jistu)

Hunter (Kumiho)

Veronica (Succubus)

Go (Comic)

Selkie Surprise (comic)

Between Bars (art)

Bow (comic)

CYBERCREW

Not Me

CORPORATE

Bodyguard Hunter

TEST TRACK

Vic loans out Sahota to a buddy to test out and rate interrogation and torture methods.

Test One: Electrocution

Test Two: Spikes

Test Three: Salt

Test Four: Ribs

Test Five: Blanket

Test Six: Water

Test Seven: Overload

Transcript #1

Test Eight: Dangled

Test Nine: Deprivation

Transcript #2

Test Ten: Waterboarding

Test Eleven: Crucified

Test Twelve: Cut

Transcript #3

Test Thirteen: Wire

Transcript #4

Discipline #2

Test Fourteen: Flayed

Test Fifteen: Jason

Test Sixteen: Tank

Test Seventeen: Surprise

Test Eighteen: Hot Flash

Transcript #5

Test Nineteen: Organs

SCI-FI

A Poor Imitation

Reprisal

Decoy

TIME TRAVEL

Small

#getting ahead of it #i have a *lot* already and they're mostly gonna be just doodles and art #so im gonna start drafting synopses/plot summaries that allow me to doodle without actually having to write a whole story :)#modern problems require modern solutions #t$$ aus #masterlist

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giggly-squiggily · 5 months ago

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#Fc89ac (Cupid's Parasite)

Heyo! So...I might or might not be addicted to Cupid's Parasite...

Nah but really; Y'ALL! I've started playing it recently and my goodness Ryuki is the best! (Granted as of writing this I'll have likely finished the game if not most of it so it's up in the air on who'll truly be my favorite) His route was so fun and addictive and just- YESH! I wanted to write something for him and Lynette and that's exactly what I did lols. I hope you like it! :D

Summary: Ryuki's struggling with his latest design and what color to make it. Lynette helps through unconventional ways.

#fc8eac…#ffc1cc…#ff6ec7…

Lynette scrolled through her search history with a small laugh, shaking her head. Since she fell in love with the fashion designer, it seemed like this was all she ever looked up. Not that she minded it of course; she loved her boyfriend with her entire heart- even if she had to look up several of the colors he mentioned on a daily basis.

Recently it seemed he was stuck on the color pink- his sketchbook filled to the brim with various dresses and skirt designs with various notes and hexadecimals. Around one particular dress several of the numbers were crossed out and re-written, a sign this particular garment was driving Ryuki insane. “No, that’s not it…it’s too muted.”

Another hexadecimal. Lynette tapped it into her phone to find “Soft Pink”. It was lovely. “I like it. It’s pretty.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t really go with the theme of the outfit.” Ryuki scowled down at the paper, narrowing his eyes. “Everything’s either too muted or too bright- I need something in the middle.”

Rolling onto her stomach, Lynette used her arms as a pillow as she peeked at his work. Unsurprisingly, the dress was gorgeous- flowy and fun with a mix of both western and japanese elements incorporated. “Wow, it’s so beautiful!”

“You haven’t been truly wowed yet- wait until you see what it’ll look like in person.” A touch of pride entered Ryuki’s voice as he puffed, starting to smile. Then that smile dropped as he looked at his endless bouts of notes. “If we ever get there, that is.”

Not good. Lynette sat up and clapped her hands. “Break time! Maybe you need to step back and revisit it with some fresh eyes?”

Ryuki looked ready to argue, but he gave in with a sigh after meeting her raised brow. “Maybe.” Closing the sketchbook, he moved everything aside and gave a small stretch. “But just for five minutes- then I’m going right back i-EH!”

“Fifthteen minutes. I demand a proper break.” Lynette argued, poking him in the ribs. “We’re having green tea and snacks- maybe even a walk.” She poked him again and again, watching him twitch and scrunch beneath her finger. “We can hunt down a crepe stand. They’re usually out this time of year.”

“H-How is tha-ahat gonna gehet done in fi-fiihfthteen mi-inutes?” Ryuki yelped between jabs, grabbing at her wrists as he thought down giggles. “Stop thahat!”

“Well, we’ll just have to take as long as we need, won’t we?” She teased, bringing her other hand in when he refused to release her. Scooting closer, she quickly scribbled into his open side, making him yelp and fall backwards. “You’ve been working on your designs all morning. Five minutes away isn’t gonna be enough.”

“Ihiihiht’ll be pleaahhanty! Geahhaha, Lynaehehehehhette!” Ryuki didn’t have the strength to remain sitting up, crashing unceremoniously against the pillows as he batted at her hands. “Cuhuhhuhut it ohoohoohohut, I’m wohoohhoohrking!”

“Noooo!” She cried back in glee, giggling up a storm as she threw herself across his torso. Her fingers danced up and down his sides, kneading here and there to make him arch and yelp. “I’ll never stop! I’ll keep tickling you until you agree to take a break!”

“Thahahaht’s nohohohoht hahahappehehehening! Geahhahahaha!” Ryuki squeaked when her fingers dug into his highest ribs, making him arch within a sudden boost of mirth. “Dohohohohoohn’t nohohohohohohohohoo! Aheahahahahahha Lhihihihihihihiynehehehehehhehehette!”

“Oo, is this a bad spot?” She cooed at him, enjoying how pink his cheeks got. “It must be with how much you’re blushing! I could listen to you laugh all day long, cutie!”

“Shuhuhuhuht uuuhuhuhp! Iihihihi’m nohoohohohot cuhuuhuhuhte!” He argued through his laughter, trying his best to squeeze her hands out. “Thahahaht’s it- cohoohme here!” With a sudden burst of strength, he reached out and grabbed onto Lynette, flipping their positions. “Now you get what’s com-ehehehehe, nohohohoho!”

“Huh? What was that? What do I get?” She teased, wasting no time as she grabbed at his ribs once more. “You gotta move faster than this, Ryuki-kun! Hehehe!”

Unfortunately for her, Lynette’s reign of mischief was quickly ended.

“AH! Aheahhahahahha nohohoohohohoho!” She squealed when Ryuki managed to grab her side, squeezing rapidly. “Nohohoohoho fahahahhair, nohoohoho fahahhair yohoohohu son of ahahah-”

“Goohoht you nohohow, yoohohu-GAH DOHOOHN’T!”

“TAHHAKE THAHAHT!”

“BRIIHIHINHG IT OHOHON!”

Their “battle” continued on as they rolled around in the bed, sheets crinkling and pillows flying as they grabbed and prodded at any and every tickle spot they could find on eachother. By the end of it all, they were gasping for air, cheeks flushed and hair a mess as they laid side by side in their messy bedding.

“Sohoohoho who wohohohn?” Lynette gasped out, hair falling free from its braid like a halo of sakura blossoms. Ryuki reached out, brushing her bangs back with the gentlest of touches.

“Mehehehe, obvihihihously.” He snorted, making her smile. She was especially radiant today- her natural hue the softest of pinks. It reminded him of…

“#fc89ac.” He mused out loud, then blinked. “That’s it-”

Lynette watched him sit up, scrambling for his sketchbook. While he did so, she quietly pulled out her phone, searching up the number.

Tickle me pink. She barely stifled a laugh as the coincidence of it all.

“Yep, that’s it. That’s exactly what shade I was looking for.” Ryuki nodded, something relaxed entering his expression as he circled the hexadecimal with pride. “You’re truly brilliant. Thanks for all your help, Lynette.”

“Aww, you’re too sweet.” She giggled as she sat up, tucking her phone away. “Can I have a crepe as my reward? That tickle fight made me hungry.”

Ryuki blinked before bursting into laughter, unable to hide his amused smile. “You’re too cute! God- I love you so much.”

She’s heard him say it before so many times now, and the effect was still all the same. Her cheeks warmed and her heart raced at the words, making her entire being feel soft and tingly. “I love you too.”

The crepes they got soon after were extra tasty.

Thanks for reading!

#cupid parasite #tickle #tickle fic #ryuki f keisaiin #Lynette mirror #fluff #squiggily's self indulgent era #pardon all the visual novel fics lately I've just been having so much fun ajrkejarkjeajkre #Ryuki reminds me of Chigiri so much akrekarjkearkj #Just- pure glamour with such a fun character to back #Ryuki is kind of bitchy though (affectionate)#but so is Chigiri (affectionate) so it's fine lols #y'all its so dang good Cupid Parasite I recommend!#thank you for indulging me with all these visual novels as of late lolololol

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sparklepocalypse · 7 months ago

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Holy moly, all of the tags today! Thank you to @priincebutt, @firenati0n, @cha-melodius, @bigassbowlingballhead, @piratefalls, @orchidscript, @wordsofhoneydew, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @violetbaudelaire-quagmire, @captainjunglegym, @magicandarchery, and @alasse9 for the tags! I'm tagging @happiness-of-the-pursuit, @anincompletelist, @inexplicablymine, @kiwiana-writes, and @duchessdepolignaca03 today as I haven't seen your names show up in my notifications. 🥰

Today's snippet comes from my @aroyallybigbangrwrb fic, which I've finally started writing. It's a Vaguely Western AU wherein Henry is a runaway prince and Alex is a bounty hunter.

“Alright, you bastards, clear out; my employees need their rest.” Alex groans and presses his face into the pillow. “How is it morning already,” he complains, squirming until he can twist one arm free of the pinwheel quilt. He hears the swish of skirts and the click of bootheels crossing the room and grimaces. “Better question: how did you convince Annie and Therese to let you spend the night again?” A booted toe prods lightly at Alex’s ribs, and he swats at the foot. “Get up, buckaroo.” ”It’s vaquero, and you know it,” Alex groans. He flops over on his back and glares up at Madam Holleran, who’s grinning unrepentantly at him and holding a cup of coffee just out of reach. “You are a cruel mistress,” he mutters. He sits up and rubs a hand tiredly down his face, scratching at the three-day-old stubble on his jaw as he swings his legs over the side of the bed. ”Would a cruel mistress share a lead on a juicy bounty with her favorite huntsman?” Madam Holleran asks. She plucks his shirt off the chair where Alex had draped it the previous night and holds it out to him. Alex shrugs into the shirt, buttoning up the placket. “What is it this time?” he asks. “Fugitive? Murderer? Serial philanderer?” She shakes her head and holds out the cup of coffee, and he takes a grateful sip. “Think… more highfalutin.” “Wayward heiress?” Alex guesses. “In a manner of speaking. Get the rest of your duds on and meet me in my office.” She turns to walk out, but at the doorway, she pauses. “And Alex? Thanks for staying. Everyone here feels safer at night when there’s a man around who doesn’t mean them any harm.”

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb fic #my fic #alex claremont diaz #henry hanover stuart fox #alex x henry #firstprince #rwrb movie #wip: rbb #wip wednesday

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ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes · 6 months ago

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The Phoenix and the Crow

part thirty-five

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral, mild angst, but kinda fluff

el's thoughts: i love this parrrtttt!! enjoyyy

masterlist

Y/N knew better than to daze off in the middle of a job but her mind nearly ached at the idea of a life like the one her imagination painted for her. The lack of proper sleep and built-up stress finally caught up to her. She was running on autopilot. Thank the Saints for Kaz dragging her behind him and the both of them not being needed for a while. Kaz had harshly nudged her side and snapped her out of her daydream, nodding to the two guards that stood under the archway with their backs towards them.

“I’m not a Heartrender, what do you want me to do?” She whispered harshly.

She didn’t get a verbal response only an unbothered side eye causing the Inferni to roll her eyes in return. “Of course.” She muttered under her breath as she sauntered down the hall, purposely ignoring Kaz’s lingering stare.

Once she made it to the guard on the right of the archway, she looped her arm through his and yanked him downward behind the wall in one motion. She threw her leg out behind her to keep balance as she slammed him into the stone floor, his eyes rolling back on impact. The other guard was quick to grab the back of her neck, pulling her hair in the process. She reached behind her and clamped her fingers around his wrist, twisting it in a way that loosened his grip just enough. She spun around and swung her knee up to hit him in the groin causing him to fall forward, his knee collided with the floor. She moved swiftly behind him to pull him into a headlock. She squeezed her arms tightly and tensed her core as the guard swung his elbow back into her ribs. She grunted with each blow he made but noticed his arms begin to slow and lose power. Within seconds he was unconscious and she laid him down beside his fellow guard.

Y/N sighed in relief and stretched her arms over her head as Kaz approached her side. “Thanks for all the help.”

He only smirked and reached for one of the guards, dragging him back down the hallway. “Hurry up.”

The pair had debated on tailing Matthias or not. Kaz took a gamble on the mere idea and hoped for the fact that he assumed Matthias’ feelings for the Heartrender right. The real risk had been in whether or not someone as honest as Matthias could convincingly lie to his mentor’s face. Apparently the Fjerdan has hidden skills.

Kaz and Y/N had tracked Nina and Brum across the grounds to the treasury. Then they’d taken cover behind an ice sculpture. Kaz had focused on the miserable task of regurgitating the packets of Wylan’s root bombs, Y/N stayed aware of their surroundings while promptly ignoring the man beside her, trying not to let the thought of him being in slight pain cross her mind.

Once he was done, they checked the perimeter, the roof, the entry, but eventually there was nothing for them to do but keep hidden, stay alert, and worry about all the things that could go wrong. They were hiding in the shadows of the western colonnade, both left to their thoughts as neither of them felt the need to carry a conversation. Y/N had taken to inspecting the architecture of the interact hallway they sat in when Kaz decided to speak up.

“I’m sorry.”

She turned to him confused as to why he was apologizing. Sure he had many things to apologize for, but which did he mean? “For…”

He froze in his place as if he caught himself by surprise just the same. Maybe he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “You’re…” He inhaled sharply, “You’re not replaceable.”

“I need your skills, Y/N. That’s not the same thing. You may be the best Grisha soldier in Ravka, but you’re not the only one. You’d do well to remember it if you want to keep your share of the haul.”

“You’d do well to remember just who you’re talking to, Kaz Brekker. Sure I’m the best Grisha soldier in Ravka, but I’m the only Phoenix. I’m your only solid connection to Ravka. I’m the only one Nikolai truly trusts.” She stepped closer to him, anger seeping out of her, Kaz felt waves of heat radiate off of her. “And you have no right to tell me I’m replaceable.”

“I’m aware, thanks.”

Kaz looked at her profile without turning his head before he brought his attention to the small flame flickering between her finger tips. A tick. A minuscule tell of her nerves. He wouldn’t have been able to notice it when they first met. From the outside, she looked to be a woman made of iron who only grew stronger when dragged through the fire. And to Kaz she still is a woman made of iron, but he now sees how she grows soft while in the fire no matter how hard she tries to hide it.

He cleared his throat, “With your share of the money… What are you going to do?”

“I noticed you already asked the others this question. Why ask me now?”

“Just answer the question.” He gave her a sharp side eye causing her to smirk in return.

“I’m not doing this for the money, remember? I’m doing this for my country.”

Kaz internally sighed, “Be selfish for once, Y/L/N.”

“I don’t know what I would do with the money. I wasn’t planning on keeping it at all. I was going to give it to the orphanage just outside the main city or at least something of the like.”

“That’s not using the money for yourself.”

“Sorry if it isn’t selfish enough for you. But let’s face the reality of it, what would I need the money for? Everything I could ever need or want is provided at the palace. If I wanted to selfishly splurge I would take the money from Nikolai Lantsov himself.” She chuckled under her breath.

“So you would go back to Ravka.”

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t.”

Kaz nodded curtly in response.

Y/N let her stare linger on the side of his face, her eyes tracing all the curves and sharp lines. “Unless I have a reason to go somewhere else of course.”

His eyes met hers, not giving away any of his thoughts or feelings. “Would you stay in Ketterdam if I asked you to stay again?” His voice was kept low and he surprised himself with the control he kept while sitting in what felt like an intimate situation.

“I wouldn’t know unless you asked me.”

“Stay in Ketterdam. Stay with me.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly at his straightforwardness. He didn’t skip a beat. “I would stay.” She slowly reached for his gloved hand that rested on his thigh. She brushed her pinkie against the back of his hand, waiting for him to pull away but when he didn’t she lopped her small finger with his. She smiled softly to herself and rested her head back on the stone pillar behind her.

The moment was quickly interrupted as the Black Protocol alarm bells rung out through the hallways, the chimes of the Elderclock booming over the island, shaking the air. Lights from the guard towers came on in a bright flood. The druskelle around the ash left off their rituals and began shouting orders, and a wave of guards descended from the towers to spread out over the island. They’d waited, counting the minutes, but there was still no sign of Nina or Matthias.

‘They’re in trouble,’ Kaz thought. ‘Or you were dead wrong about Matthias, and you’re about to pay for all of those talking tree jokes.’

“I swear, if that big blonde slab of fur laid a finger on her…” Y/N muttered under her breath as she rose to her feet and and flexed her fist, little sparks flying from her fingers. She turned back to him. “What are you waiting for, Brekker. Let’s go.”

~*~

taglist: @katherinereid @littlecat21 @jahayla-parker @maliciousbrekker @brekkershadowsinger @brekkers-desigirl @clunaes @wonderland2425 @bookloverfilmoholic @karensirkobabes @bookworm-center @el-de-phi @so-get-this-sammy @skittleabyss @crispy-croke @cometsghost @auttumnsayshi

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagines #ellora.writes

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sommerregenjuniluft · 1 year ago

Text

~Old Dogs <3

for @krethes, @plecotusauritus, @kaaaaaaarf

The year is 2013, it’s October and Remus is one cranky old man. (He’s 53.)

It’s icy cold in the mornings already, as it tends to be in the south-western English countryside and especially at this time of the year.

Their bed is toasty warm and loaded with feathery pillows to support Remus’ stiff and creaky body as good as possible but his husband is a restless little ball of ideas and insane genius and he’s also an insatiable little brat so that’s why-

“Moons,” whispered on a breathy little snicker, much too boyish for a man in his mid fifties and the mattress dips beneath his weight. Carefully straddling Remus where he’s laying on his stomach, face smushed into two pillows and fuzzy blanket pulled up to his chin and Sirius leaning down, eloping him with his body. There’s long curls tickling Remus’ nostril and he smells of outside air and the thick sherpa collar lumberjack he wears out in his tinkering shed. Which is really more of a good-sized barn, at this point.

He grunts, a vague grumbling noise and Sirius snickers again and then there’s warm lips on Remus’ stubbled, bony cheek which is much too lovely for the early hour and can only mean that his husband wants something.

Remus balls his fist more tightly in the soft material of the blanket.

Sirius, of course, quick as ever, notices and gives another rumbling laugh. Something that vibrates through his chest, past his ribs and seeps into Remus’ spine in an instant.

Warmth pooling in the middle of his chest that works better than any radiator or heating charm in the world. And that’s dangerous because Remus melts a bit then. Turns a little gooey and blurry around the edges. He doesn’t get butterflies anymore, in that cliché sense, after the amount of years, but he gets this.

This ball of everything warm and light in his chest that’s so strong it presses against the inside of his sternum and makes Remus feel close to bursting some days. With how bone deep happy he is.

And Sirius giggles, shakes the bed a bit, because he’s evil and he knows and also knows that he’s got Remus all wrapped around his finger like that, like he’s old chewing gum, stretched thin and no backbone and that it won’t take much more.

But his husband is also fucking lovely and the best man Remus knows and so Sirius kisses his cheek again.

Stubble catching on beard and it’s raspy and it makes Remus’ lips twitch into a smile, eyes still closed and then it’s a little sing-song of, “Mooo-nyy,” and teeth nipping at Remus ear lobe.

And Remus has learned over the last decade to indulge his dramatic side a bit, now that the present sorrows of his life consist of having forgotten milk at the store again and their radishes not taking fruit in their own garden behind the house, so he draws his eyebrows together and grumbles. Wiggles the slightest bit under Sirius’ comfortable weight as if attempting to throw him off, to make his husband leave him alone and to his slumbers.

Sirius laughs above him, sees right through him, of course, as Remus knew he would. His husband laughs and it’s boyish and childish and with the rasp of 54 year old because Sirius adores him, and Remus loves him.

And then Sirius sucks in a breath and stretches closer, humid breath puffing against the shell of Remus’ ear and it’s a soft melody of, “You, you-you are,” and Remus groans before his husband is even done.

Squints his eyes open and glares over his shoulder to come face to face with Sirius singing around a playfully tantalizing smile, expression coy and nearly ruined by how hard he’s trying not to laugh.

Rosy lips framed by dark, coarse hair and his silver eyes crinkling. Laugh lines, permanently etched into his skin and it’s the most handsome thing about Sirius in his fifties. Or maybe it’s the single white streak in his hair, and Remus doesn’t even want to start listing things because that’ll turn into a long morning.

Instead he presses his lips together and gives Sirius a look, who has now moved onto a little shoulder shimmy, jostling Remus and continuing to parrot the princess of pop, “You, you-you are,” sharp eyes flying wide open and fixing Remus, lopsided smirk and glinting canines, “Womanizer, womanizer, womanizer,” abruptly sitting back on his haunches and bursting out the air drums.

The single laugh tumbles out of Remus’ involuntarily but Sirius winks, pleased with himself and extracts himself to continue dancing around in their bedroom as Remus slowly sits up.

He wiggles his toes and cracks his back, stretches his arms to the ceiling and groans a bit. Still hears Sirius chirping the lyrics from where he’s disappeared into their en-suite bathroom, heavy shoes tipping and tapping away—he’s left his dirty boots on.

That alone is almost enough for Remus to spring up out of bed (read: stand up slowly but walk briskly) to snatch his husband up and show him what he thinks of Sirius trudging dirt into their bedroom.

But before Remus can even make the decision Sirius comes back into the room with Remus’ toothbrush in hand, a dollop of toothpaste on it.

Drapes himself against the doorframe dramatically, the back of one hand at his forehead, “You- you got me going,” throwing his hips out and pressing off the wall, stalking closer, “You- you’re oh so charming,” biting his lip for enunciation.

Remus rolls his eyes with a smile and then there’s a grip on his jaw, Sirius plopping down on the mattress next to him, seductive expression turning faux disapproving, “You- But I can’t do it.”

Shoving the toothbrush into Remus’ mouth and whirling up and away. Remus starts brushing dutifully, and Sirius turns around himself two times before taking a stance, fixing Remus with his stare again, and spitting venomously, “Womanizer.”

Sirius dances through the rest of the refrain and Remus watches unperturbed until he almost drops some of the toothpaste onto the sheets. Sucks the foam back up and tilts his neck back, going to stand up.

He pads over to the bathroom, Sirius hot on his trail.

Fingers slipped under Remus’ sleep shirt and squeezing reprimandingly, “You- you say I’m crazy.”

Remus bends down to spit some of the toothpaste into the sink, letting Sirius rove his calloused fingers up his scarred back. “You- I got your crazy,” snapping his teeth and digging his blunt nails into Remus’ shoulder blades and Remus smiles around the minty foam.

“You-” Sirius’ chin hooked over Remus’ shoulder, “You’re nothing but a,” growling into his ear, “Womanizer.”

“Daddy-O,” Remus turns, fast, and plants a big, foamy smooch on Sirius’ half open mouth.

They erupt into a bit of a tousle then, but eventually a few more minty but distinctly less foamy kisses are shared where Remus is leaning against the sink with Sirius standing between his legs, fingers playing with the little curls at Remus’ nape.

Sirius grins up at him when Remus hums the refrain again under his breath, Cheshire cat, pleased as a Kneazle, “Gets you every time.”

Remus rolls his eyes, knocks their skulls together, “It’s a classic.”

“It’s only been 5 years!”

“Mark my words though,” Remus raises and eyebrow and now it’s Sirius rolling his eyes.

He looks criminally gorgeous doing it so Remus kisses him again.

Pulls him closer around the waist and lets a hand slip down to grab at his ass. There’s no urgency behind it, just the desire to feel, to have him atomically under his palms and to hold him close.

A press of warm lips and then Sirius groans happily when Remus nudges at his seam with the tip of his tongue. It’s languid and slow and it has Remus’ chest close go bursting again when they separate with a wet little smacking noise.

Remus licks at the saliva on his lips and nudges their noses together, “So tell me why I was rudely awoken in the early hours of the day and with toothpaste instead of coffee no less.”

Sirius’ eyebrows fly up and his body goes back to rigid and energized, strung tight with creativity and Remus would mourn the way his pliant body had slotted against his own if he didn’t love the way Sirius’ face lights up to much. “Oh, I need some picture frames!”

“Mm,” Remus makes, levels him with another look, “And that wouldn’t have waited another hour or two?”

Sirius shakes his head, grinning, “No can do, Mister Moons.”

“Of course.”

And then Sirius leans close again, eyes lidded and something stirs in Remus gut the tiniest bit. And Sirius voice matches the look so Remus almost doesn’t catch what he says then.

But he does, because what comes out of his lovely husband’s mouth is equally as alluring as the promise of sex, “Y’know that antique shop that’s right next to the old lady’s stand that sells those hot chocolate rum mulled wine creations you’re so crazy about?”

Remus does know that one and he’s already halfway out the bathroom, boney fingers clasped with Sirius ones before he’s done speaking, a merry rumble of laughter spilling from his husband that’s the best kind of music to Remus’ ears as he gets tugged along.

#idk what came over me #i woke up and i thought of old wolfstar and then womanizer played in my head and now we are here #wolfstar #wolfstar drabble #wolfstar fluff #lune writes #old dogs #remus lupin #sirius black #old wolfstar

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