#picture frame size guide

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, soft smut, praise kink, size kink, breeding kink, daddy kink Simon Riley/female reader

If he could choose a way to die, this would be it.

He would choose to die right in this moment, where you're laying on your back in front of him, legs spread wide, chest heaving with the exertion of your second orgasm, limp and pliable, sweet as sugar. He'd choose to die in this room, with your name on his lips, the feeling of your body against his, your muscles seizing and hips jolting under his touch, the smell of your cunt in his nose, taste of your arousal on his tongue. He'd choose to die from happiness, elation, euphoria, the feelings so strong they feel like they might burst free from his veins and flood this room, spill from his heart like it's exploded.

He's mad for it. Mad for you. Allowed his madness to guide him, take over, control his vocal chords, his limbs. He's like a marionette, strings being plucked by none other but yourself, though you're none the wiser.

"Simon?" You whisper, very quiet, careful. You're nervous, he can tell. You've been nervous since he got you home and sent Johnny on his way, nervous ever since he laid you on your back and stripped you bare, ran his lips over every inch of skin possible, every pretty little lightning bolt, every single part you tried to hide.

"I'm here." He answers, taking your wandering hand with his own, squeezing it for good measure. You're floundering, wondering, eyes wide and a little lost, anxious at the lapse. "Just lookin' at you." He says, fingers stroking across your belly, following them with his mouth. "Don't think I've ever seen something so beautiful." You giggle, and it's soft, like the chiming of bells, the kind of music that angels would make, he thinks.

"Should I-" you turn to roll, like you're going to go facedown, or maybe up onto your hands and knees, and he stills you, forearms coming up to frame your face, thumb stroking along your furrowed brow line.

"No." He shifts your hip, settling you into a better position, and then strokes his cock, nudging it against your entrance. "I want to see your face." He wants to see your face, your eyes, your mouth, more than anything else in this world. Wants to see it everyday, wants to see it crying with bliss when he makes you come around him, wants to see it when he goes to bed and when he wakes in the morning. He wants to see it on a little paper picture, tucked up into his tac vest when he's away, wants to see smiling, giggling, content... happy. Safe. There will be plenty of time for the other stuff, for when he bends you over the couch, bends you over his knee, fucks you in the kitchen, in the shower, on the table. He hovers for a moment, soaking you in, blood thundering in his veins, through his ears, throbbing into his cock, and he's so hard it nearly hurts, but he can't rush this. He has to get it right.

"Simon." You whine, hips flexing, thrusting up so he feels the heat of your body, the wet heaven of your cunt. He grits his teeth.

"Fuck, sweetheart." He grunts, and then pushes, your eyes going wide, matching the round o of your mouth, fingernails tightening into his back, fluttering pussy trying to accommodate the stretch. He's big, bigger than you in many ways, he knows, and when your back arches, legs involuntarily folding, knees lifting, he traps you there, holding them steady so he can look down and watch the way he sinks into your body, cock disappearing inch by inch.

"Ohmygod ohmy- it's too- you're-" you gasp, and he leans down, slicking his tongue against yours, stealing your whimpers and moans, greedily drinking them up.

"I know, I've got you." He thrusts a little deeper, getting closer and closer to his hips being flush with yours. "You can take it." He goes slow, working you open, getting you used to him for as long as he can stand it, watching every little expression that falls across your face, every moment of bliss. "Is that good, sweetheart?" He noses at you, and you nod with a gulp, still holding onto him, arms trembling.

"Y-yeah. So good, so so good." You babble, nearly incoherent, cock drunk, and it feeds the reckless, hungry drive inside of him, encoraging him on, faster, until he's fucking into you with enough power that you're starting to inch up the bed moaning out nonsense vowels.

He gets lost, for a second, thinking about if you didn't have an IUD. Thinking about what it would be like, if he was breeding you, filling you with his come every night until it took, until you were growing his baby, round belly underneath a sweater, cradled in his arms in bed, giving Emmaline a sibling, making you a mama again, with him, for him. It shatters across his brain like the ricochet from a gun shot, white hot light searing inside his eyes, nearly making him come inside you right there until he pulls out with a deep breath, letting the head of his cock rest just inside your body as he collects himself, and then thrusts back in.

"Fuck!" You gasp, a little too loud, and you wince, eyes shocked. He puts his hand over your mouth, kissing your nose between where it pokes out between his thumb and forefinger.

"My good girl." He thrusts, and you moan, licking the salt of his palm. "My good," He's so deep, can feel where you end, where he's pressed against your cervix, and your eyebrows crinkle, tears gathering on your waterline. "sweet, mama. Doin' so good, taking this cock." Your eyes roll, and he drags himself along the silky heat of your walls, before plunging back in. "Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? This what you needed?" The word daddy almost slips, almost falls out like- 'is this what you wanted, for daddy to take care of you? Is this what you needed, for daddy to take you home and take care of this pussy- but he holds it in, reels in back just in time for you to nod as answer to his voiced question, and he pulls his hand away, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip. "Tell me."

"Yeah, oh- Simon, yes-" you pant, a little squeaky, tear rolling down your cheek. You saying his name like this, with him so full inside you, fills him with fire, roaring heat racing through his muscles, and he grinds his hips against yours, making you groan, bucking against him when he finds your clit and glides his thumb across it, over and over.

"Do you wan' be my good girl?" He asks, pumping harder, pushing you the limit, and you cry out against his hand, nodding frantically, which he rewards with a smile, and another swipe across your clit. "Come for me. Let go sweetheart, I'm right here." He coos, still swirling your swollen bud in a circle, your legs practically steel around him, eyes brimming with tears. He'll take care of you. He'll give you everything. He'll never let you go, he swears, he swears, he swears... he doesn't stop, just keeps going relentlessly, fucking you as deep as he can as you come around his cock, exploding like a bomb, silently screaming into his palm. He's following you over the cliff of your orgasm a second later, nose pressed to your cheek, whispering insanity into your skin, half praying you won't be able to make sense of it. Whispers and vows of love, and protection, of care, promises and secrets, until the two of you are limp against one another, basking in the glow and heat of your bodies.

He closes his eyes for a moment. Just for a second, just to take a deep breath, preparing to pull out, to move on to what's next, cleaning you up, getting you in a bath or a shower, making sure you're comfortable, you're cared for, you're cherished as you ought to be. He closes his eyes, and it's just long enough for him to feel the shaking of your chest under his. Just long enough to hear the sniffle, the hiccup, his eyes opening in confusion, concern, cradling your face between his palms. "Sweetheart? What's wrong, what is it?" Panic stirs in his gut, and when you don't answer, his mouth goes dry, fear dousing him in a cold sweat. "Did I... did I hurt you?" When the only answer is the sound of your sobs, fat tears that stream down your cheeks, his heart cracks wide open in his chest.

Maybe he could very well die in this moment. But not from happiness. From agony.

[moonchildstyles]

sin

y/n is an angel and harry is a demon whos taught her how much fun it can be to sin

wordcount: 7.8k+

—————

The first time (Y/N) floated down from the clouds, she had no idea what a Pocket was, let alone where to find one. That time felt so long ago with the way she could now navigate herself to her favorite Pocket without a second thought. The route had become one of familiarity, guiding butterflies flitting through her stomach the closer she made it with every step. 

Slipping out of sight of the main street, she counted thirteen paces down the quiet alleyway before finding the brick that needed just the right touch before it would show off the hidden doorway she needed. The brick was grainy and rough under her palm, her skin catching on the mortar as she pushed against it until it finally gave away underneath. Just like that, the seemingly solid wall opened up, revealing an entryway for her eyes only. 

(Y/N) felt giddy as she stepped inside, the doorway vanishing behind her when she crossed the threshold. She knew it was secure once more when there was a breeze that skated over her skin and fluffed through her wings, seemingly sealing her away from the rest of the world. In a way, it was, but there was still a waiting invitation to the one other person who knew about this Pocket—the one that had shown her the way in the first place.

Getting comfortable while she waited, (Y/N) was happy to see the place was untouched from her last visit. When she had first seen this Pocket, it was the closest thing she had ever seen to an interdimensional "bachelor pad". There hadn't been much of anything to see that first time, only the bones of someone’s presence though they were too busy to return much. She remembered it had felt stale as if it had been abandoned for years despite the unmade bed in the corner with messy sheets and tufted comforter. 

Harry had told her it was a place he barely used—it was one of the first Pockets he conjured on his own, and he'd since honed the craft into bringing something more extravagant to life. He still visited just to keep the curse fresh, but he otherwise only stayed there if it was necessary and no other options were available. 

His last resort had since become their hideaway. Special for just the two of them; another secret for them to share with one another. 

It had come a long way from when she had first visited with Harry on her tail, leaving behind the less than ideal bed set up, and vacant walls. (Y/N) had used all of her inspiration from seeing countless humans decorate their homes, turning the dreary Pocket into a cozy getaway. Heaven didn't necessarily allow for a lot of individualism when it came to living spaces, seeing as how everything was ordained to be pristine and creamy. Here, (Y/N) got to use as much color as she wanted—as long as it didn't spur any headaches for Harry, anyway. 

Now, there was an actual bed frame holding up a cushy mattress, the pillows feather soft and always cool to the touch. The bedding was a warm orangey color, playing off of the greens and pinks throughout the space. There were pictures—canvases full of paint Harry said he "found" through his travels—pinned to the walls, playing into the bright hues (Y/N) was toying with. A rug now sat in the middle of the room in the shape of a paint blob in a creamy green shade that made her think of Harry's eyes. The kitchen—though near unnecessary given their statuses—was given the same treatment as the rest of the studio-sized space. There were magnets covering the unused fridge, appliances and bowls of always fresh fruit sitting on the counter. A bouquet of flowers that never died were sitting on the bedside table, perfuming the air with a light fragrance that drew her in. Her favorite part was the mirror by the bed, ornate and carved with cherubs. 

Walking in felt like a breath of fresh air. As much as she loved being an angel—guiding humans in need, taking care of those who needed her touch, changing lives for the better—being here in this Pocket was the one thing she could see herself loving more.

It would be a little bit better if she wasn't alone, though. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, fluffy wings tucked against her back, she fixed her eyes on the doorless portal, waiting for the telltale creek and scrape of concrete that would signal Harry's arrival. This was the bad part of being chronically early, she thought, never being sure when the other would show up and keep her from being lonely. 

Lucky for her, it was only another handful of minutes before her ears picked up on the familiar sound of footsteps trailing over the pavement. Her breath caught when they stopped just outside where the Pocket's door was, a smile unfurling on her features when that first creek sounded through the room. She rose to her feet just in time to see the first uniform crack in the wall before the rest of the doorway came to be. 

Slipping inside, Harry didn't wait for the portal to shut behind him before he was crossing the room to meet her. 

"(Y/N)," he sighed, his grin toothy and completely with dimples, "Sorry I took so long." 

Wrapping his arms around her, (Y/N) melted into his embrace. His hands settled just below her fluffy wings, holding her close while she rested her cheek on his chest. 

"It's okay," she murmured, eyes fluttering to a close as she soaked in his warmth, "I'm happy you're here." 

Harry's response came in the form of a small kiss being dropped on the top of her head, the contact decidedly delicate as opposed to his nature. He'd told her before that she was the only one that could draw that side of him out—the docile side that had no alignment with chaos or sabotage. This side of him was just for her, he'd shared. 

Shifting his hands on her, his fingertips brushing her wings with a shudder shooting down (Y/N)'s spine, Harry repositioned until he had his hands cradling her cheeks as he tipped her head up to face him. His dark eyes shimmered green, taking in each of her features as if it were the first time again. 

"I've missed you," he crooned, "So much, darling. What have you been up to since the last time I saw you?" 

Despite there being no way for anyone, mortal or otherwise to overhear them, every word he spoke to her was uttered like a secret. Just for her. 

"I missed you," she smiled, unlooping her own arms to settle with her hands on his chest, "But, I've been okay. Just doing angel stuff." 

His lips quirked into a lopsided curve, his thumb brushing along the height of her cheekbone. "Always angel stuff with you. No breaks." 

"No breaks," she played along as if she wasn't currently in the middle of a break with him right now, where not even her creator could spot her if she tried, "What about you?" 

"Just the opposite of angel stuff," he teased, managing to bring a smile to her face despite knowing the reality of his joke. He had a certain way of putting it, describing his job, that made it not sound so bad when it came to (Y/N)'s sensibilities. (Truthfully, it could be because she just liked his voice. He could make anything sound heavenly). 

"Fun?" she smiled, letting him walk her back towards the bed. 

"Always," he hummed, escorting her backwards until her legs hit the edge. 

Tumbling back, a bubbling laugh left (Y/N)'s lips as she clung to Harry. He fell atop her, her thighs splitting to settle him between. Underneath, the mattress conformed to the shape of her wings, Harry's hands pressing into the planes of her back as if she wasn't close enough as is. 

Before the world had a chance to settle around her, Harry tipped his chin and pressed his lips to hers. Though she didn't have much to compare it to, (Y/N) had little doubt that there could ever be a better kisser out there than Harry. Her point was proven every time he sealed his mouth to hers, her top lip cradled between his two. 

This was never going to get old, she knew. Not with the bubbling that ignited under her skin at the contact, the way there was nothing more she wanted than to cling to him and bask in his warmth. With every angling and tipping of their heads, movements made in tandem, she was drawn deeper and deeper in everything that was him. Tucked underneath him like this, mouth coming together and parting with soft breaths between, it was hard to think that the universe had crafted them to be enemies. 

Tracing his mouth down from hers, dotting a line over her jaw, Harry murmured in her ear, "I don't have much time, darling." 

"No?" she asked, a pout evident in just the single syllable, "Why not?" 

Harry drew back only to give her an apologetic smile. "Opposite of angel stuff, remember?" 

"Since when does that have a schedule?" She sounded petulant even to her own ears, but if there was one sin she was willing to commit, it was greed when it came to Harry. 

"Since I told Sarah I would meet up with her soon," Harry offered the challenge with a raised brow. Sarah wasn't like the others of his kind, she was more stubborn and would actually go looking for him if he stood her up, if only to wreak havoc for him personally as revenge. 

"To do not-angel stuff that I'll have to clean up later?" she pressed, feeling her attitude leak away now that she knew her time was limited with him. 

His smile was brilliant at her words, wide with bracketing dimples. "Of course. That's why we work so well, darling." 

It was that kind of language, the sweet one that made even demon activities sound silly, that had her splitting into a smile before tipping her chin in hopes of coaxing him into a kiss. It didn't take much convincing for Harry's lips to press into hers, resuming the lingering kissing he'd interrupted before. 

On her back, Harry shifted his hands until he grazed the stem of her wings. The second his fingertips glanced against the base of one fluffy, tightly packed feather, a shudder wormed down her spine. Her breathing stuttered in her chest, a furrow pinching at her brow. From the way he had to keep from smiling against her mouth, she knew he was aware of the effect of his touch—undoubtedly intentional. 

It was the easiest way to get her riled up, and that was exactly what he needed for their time limit. 

Just as he'd surely hoped, there was a change in the pacing of their kissing. (Y/N) leaned into his touch, anticipating another lingering touch against her wings. Her hands slid over his chest, fingers denting the blocky muscles that made up his body, landing on the shelf of his shoulders. Her fingertips hooked into the solid muscle, clinging to him. 

Her heartbeat stutters behind her ribs when she felt his hands shifting on her back. This time, he dared to run his fingers through the feathers, the structure underneath down was grazed by his warm touch. An involuntary moan slipped from her mouth and into his.

Instead of something smug crossing his features, Harry only kissed her harder. His mouth was hot, taking in her sudden pants from his touch. 

"Harry?" she murmured, breathless against his mouth. He didn't bother drawing away from her as he hummed, the pillows of his lips dragging over hers. "Do we have enough time?" 

This finally had his lips quirking. He nodded his head gently, the tip of his nose grazing her own. "I'll make time."

When she felt his hands drift away from her wings, she wanted to complain. She wanted to whine enough for him to know she didn't like that he was moving on, but that need was quieted when she felt his palm settle on the plush of her thigh. His touch was heavy and warm, denting into the soft skin while the other hooked around her waist in a cradle. 

In one fluid motion, he had her on her back with her mouth dropped open in a gasp. Instinctively, she had tightened her grip on him, her legs wrapping around his waist during the roll. By the time Harry was underneath her, her surprise had morphed into laughter, her chest pressed to his as she slumped into him. 

"You scared me," she bubbled, shifting in his lap with her knees bracketing his hips. 

"Sorry, darling," he murmured with a soft smile, the pitch of his pupils blown wide as he took her in. 

Steadying her, he settled his hand on her hips as she planted her hands on his chest to prop herself up above him. She could feel her wings fluff out behind her, no longer confined against the mattress. Harry's eyes followed the span of her feathers, the stretch reaching just slightly wider than her shoulders. He'd told her more than once how cute he thought her wings were—he'd never seen any quite as fluffy as hers, especially compared to his own. 

He looked up at her with reverence in his gaze, something adoring and smothering dancing in his irises as he watched her from below. She felt warm under his eyes, her fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt to keep herself from preening like a dove under his attention.

His adoring gaze translated into his soft hands trailing over the curve of her form, his palms warming the ladder of his ribs with his thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts. Even through her dress, his touch elicited a round of gooseflesh to prickle her skin. Her breath lagged in her lungs. 

Though time hadn't ever felt like much for (Y/N), seeing as she was immortal, Harry had made her impatient. It'd been a handful of days since the last time they had snuck off to their Pocket, but those days had felt like years to her body without his touch. 

The trail of his gaze almost felt tangible, warm and heavy, the longer he watched her. 

"What?" she asked, feeling breathless when he ran his thumbs against the swells of her chest. 

He didn't bother to pull his eyes from where they lingered on her body, especially liking the way her thighs were split around his hips under the hem of her dress. "Nothing," he mumbled, shaking his head against the pillows cushioned underneath, "Jus' haven't had y'on top in a while. I like it." 

She had thought before that greed was the only sin he could inspire in her, but lust was quickly overtaking the top spot. He was right; she didn't usually get a chance to look at him like this. While she loved lying underneath him, at his mercy while he drove himself home between her legs, there was something to be said about the perspective she gained while sitting astride his lap like this. 

His hair laid in soft waves against the linen of this pillows, curling towards his face as if a frame for a portrait. His lashes were long and dark, framing his eyes and drawing his prey in at a glance. There was a spray of freckles glancing off the bridge of his nose, faint against the cream of his skin. Though his eyes were dark, there were shatters of green that could be seen if one were close enough to spot the hues. His body was made of strong lines and angles, his jaw, much of the same despite the soft skin of his lips and the gentle way he admired her. 

He was the perfect demon—the perfect temptation. If not for the fact she knew what was hidden away, she would have argued he was an angel like her. 

"I like it, too," she told him, breathless, "I like it when you look at me like that." 

"Yeah?" he prodded, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth when he finally matched her gaze. His hands on her sides drifted down until he met the hem of her dress, taking the delicate material between his fingers. "Can I see more of you then, darling? Promise I'll keep looking at you like this."

Biting back her smile, she drew her hands away from his chest to grab for the hem of her dress. Moving his own hands back, he watched as she pulled her dress over her head, wings tucked against her back with the material drifting over her feathers. The familiar butterflies that came with revealing her body in a way she had never anticipated she would in her angel life flittered through her stomach. Their fluorescent wings flew high enough to glance over the chambers of her heart, feeling just as real as the warmth of his eyes draping over her newly exposed skin. Between Harry's legs, she felt a ridge thicken, pressing into her core with every drawing breath she pulled into her lungs. 

Throwing her dress to the floor, her form was left with only a dainty pair of underwear sitting on her hips and a matching bra barely covering her breasts. 

Harry's dark eyes seemingly left behind the slight hue of green, instead revealing only pitch black irises that blended seamlessly into his pupils. If any more of his control slipped, the whole of his eyes would match the inky darkness—a sight (Y/N) used to fear that now had her blood pumping. 

He couldn't help himself before he had his hands on her once more. His touch was adoring, lingering and warm. 

"Y'planned for this didn't you?" he mused, raising a brow when he met her eyes. 

"What do you mean?" she asked, canting her head with her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

"You know," he drawled, his hips shifting underneath her own with a cursory roll, "I thought y'were an angel, and here y'are dressing in lingerie to seduce a demon. How'd y'even get into heaven, hm?" 

The way he spoke to her was thrilling in a way that could rival his touch; he made her feel dirty, questioning how someone like the girl in his lap could have snuck into heaven, while touching and looking at her with reverence she could only keen under. 

"I thought you liked it when I did this," she countered, her lips tugging into a faux-frown. 

"Oh, I do, darling. Can't you tell?" 

With that, the slow roll he'd given with his hips morphed into a strong buck against her hips. The ridge she'd felt before was now a bulge, heavy and pushing. Her wings fluttered recalling the last time he had stuffed himself inside her, her legs thrown over his shoulders and tears in her eyes. 

The memory had her shifting her hips against his, rolling her core over the bulge she felt in his lap. Harry's breath hitched just as a petite moan hummed from her chest. His hands on her waist tightened, fingertips denting the soft flesh. 

"Do that again for me, darling," Harry murmured, his voice a low rumble as if it were a secret only to be shared with her, "Put on a pretty show for me." 

Planting her hands on his abdomen, feeling the blocks of muscle underneath his shirt, she steadied herself on him as she began rolling her hips against his once more. The rough texture of his jeans could be felt through her thin panties, both his thickening cock and the seaming of his pants pressing into her clit. Her knees planted on either side of his hips were digging into the mattress, spreading that much wider the more she rocked against him to sink herself onto him that much more. Her wings fluttered behind her, her feathers fanning in a short fluff at her back. 

Under her hands, Harry's stomach was tense, muscles densely bunched together. She glanced up at him to find him watching her with hooded eyes, his gaze feeling just as heavy and tangible as his hands on her waist. The sight had her grinding her hips that much harder against his cock, a shiver thrilling up her spine until a breathless moan fell from her lips. 

"I could watch you all day, darling," Harry mused, his voice rumbling under her hands as much as it reached her ears, "But, we don't have that kind of time, do we?" 

"No," she answered automatically, a whine to her voice as she shook her head. She didn't really feel like thinking about how quickly their time would be cut short. 

His hands on her waist slid down until he reached her hips, his grip solidifying until he had her stopped in her tracks. Her fingers curled in the material of his shirt, her bottom lip sinking under the weight of her teeth. 

"Get me out, darling."

Maybe it was the deep rumble of his voice, or the steadfast contact of his eyes with hers, but (Y/N) could have melted in that moment. Her lungs squeezed with her heart rattling behind her ribs. It was only when a smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth that she realized she had lingered too long admiring him. 

Unfurling her hands from his top, she fumbled at the waist of his pants. Every shifting of her hips against his lap had her in a daze, making it that much harder to concentrate on following his instructions—something he was well aware of with the way he had his own pelvis rocking upwards as if he didn't know what he was doing. 

Pulling down his jeans enough to expose his black briefs, (Y/N) could have breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to hook her fingers in the waist of his underwear. A spray of goosebumps touched at his skin, his cock visibly jumping when she reached for his cock. 

His skin was heated, shaft thick with his head leaking by the time she had her fist wrapped around him. Shoving his briefs down enough to pull him out, (Y/N) had her attention stolen and pinned to his cock. The head was leaking and red, a pearl of precum glossing from his slit. She instinctively wrapped her hadn't around his shaft, feeling the ridge of his head under her palm and the pumping of the vining vein wrapped around. A heavy breath shuddered through his chest at the touch. (Y/N) couldn't keep her eyes off of him, lusty adrenaline sparking through her system at the thought that he was in this state because of her. 

"You're so cute, darling," Harry said, breathless as he drew her out of her head. 

"Huh?" she murmured, tearing her eyes away from his ruddy cock and the shallow pumps she made around his shaft. 

If he'd had an answer at the ready, he'd cut himself off as he sank into the mattress with a sigh. The pristine pillow compressed under his head when he threw it back in the preludes of ecstasy. 

"Jus' you," he murmured, recovering with his eyes only opening to a slit, "'S always like the first time with, isn't it? Y'always look at me like you've never seen me before—'s cute."

She felt shy all of a sudden, as if she didn't have his cock in her hand. Her wings tucked to her shoulder blades, cocooning her together as if they could shrink and hide her. 

"I like you," she told him, "That's all." 

"Yeah?" he pressed smugly, his cheeks beginning to flush as (Y/N) just laid her hand on him without offering the relief of her fist, "Jus' like me?" 

A bashful tug had her lips curling into a small smile. "I love you." 

"That's what I thought." 

With that, one of his hands on her waist abandoned post only to land on the back of her neck. His palm was a cuff around the warm skin as he curled upwards and tugged her down in the same sweep. His lips met hers in a warm press, his tongue snaking out with the tip dragging along the full of her bottom lip. She didn't have to think before she was opening up for him, running her own tongue across his to get a taste. 

It was (Y/N)'s turn then to get a taste of his pleasure, a moan spilling from his throat and settling on her tongue. Her hand around his cock tightened, the grip snug and clinging. The longer he played with her, his hand tight on the back of her neck as if in fear she would pull away before he was ready, the seat of her panties grew that much more wet. Her toes curled in the bedding at his sides, her free hand pawing at his chest in the lone need to feel him. 

Drawing away just enough to speak, (Y/N)'s lips brushed against his own as she whispered, "I-I want to see you, Harry." 

"'M here, darling," he answered her simply before attempting to dive back in for more. 

"No," she practically pouted, puckering her lips for one more kiss before pleading again, "No, I want more—it's not fair if I'm the only one without my clothes on" 

She could feel him smile into her mouth, his hand offering an affectionate squeeze to the back of her neck before he pulled away. 

"When have I ever been fair, darling?" he prodded, giving her a raised brow as if he wasn't going to give into each and every single one of her demands. 

"You are with me," she countered with a cant to her head.

Something softened in his expression then, as if she didn't have her hand wrapped around his cock. "I suppose I am, aren't I?" 

Peeling his shirt off, the material becoming a black puddle on the bed behind her to reveal the tan skin and inked marks covering his musculature. 

(Y/N) had heard time and time again throughout her existence how demons could never be trusted, that they were a creation that an angel like her shouldn't taint themselves by even breathing next to. She had been told they were slimy skinned, rows of teeth stuffed in their mouths, with eyes that could pull you straight to hell if you looked into them long enough. 

Looking at Harry the way he was now beneath her, she could see why her ancestors would craft such tales; if she had known there were creatures out there that looked the way Harry did, she would have tried to find him the first time she floated from the clouds. 

She couldn't help the way her hands drifted up his chest. Her fingers skimmed over his chest, dancing over the butterfly inked on his stomach and he birds up high by his collarbones. There was a flight layer of goosebumps that rose in her wake. 

A breathy laugh that fell from his lips brought her attention back to the surface, pulling her gaze to flick up and match his. Amusement floated in his irises, a slight smile on his raspberry lips. 

"You're cute," he told her simply. 

"I'm not trying to be cute," she answered, a stubborn set to her jaw. 

That only seemed to amuse him more, a dimple now denting his cheek as his smile grew. "Right," he drawled, "As much as I love letting y'touch all over me, I don't think we have enough time left for y'to have too much fun." 

The reminder was enough to have her mouth fixing into a pout. That wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"Oh, yeah," she answered sullenly, stilling her hands on his shoulders with her body leant over his. 

"I know," he said, craning his neck to press a small kiss to the corner of her mouth in a lingerie draw, "Next time we're here, we'll spend all night together. I promise."

A dreamy sigh fanned from her lungs at the thought, her eyes falling closed. It'd been a while since they had been able to spend a whole night in the Pocket together—the last time had left her in love and flying wonky the next day. 

She could hear the smile in his voice when he pressed, "Sound good, darling?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, "I want that now." 

"I know y'do," he murmured, "You'll jus' have to settle for me fucking y'fast, then." 

He said it like it was a punishment, as if her heart wasn't in her throat with adrenaline when he flipped her over once more. She was flat on her back, wings cushioned against the mattress when he sunk in between her spread thighs once more. Now, she could feel the weight of the muscles she had grazed her hands over, the width of his form she had been grinding against. 

The movement had stolen her breath, leaving her chest heaving as he looked down at her. The intensity was back once more, keeping his irises dark as he glazed his eyes over each and every line of her body. He lingered on the line of her bra, surely pinpointing where her rattling heart was scheduled by her ribs. 

"What do y'need from me, darling?" Harry mumbled, the blunt of his nails grazing the soft skin of her stomach as he dragged his hands towards the waist of her panties. 

Speaking through her shudder, she shook her head, "No-Nothing—I want you." 

Harry looked entirely too smug, the curl on his lips one she recognized even as far back as the first time they met. Back then, she couldn't stand the sight—unsure of how a demon could be proud of anything they did. Now, it was one of her favorite things, knowing she had made him feel proud of himself (at least she liked to think of it that way). 

"Y'can have me, darling," he assured her, one of his hands dripping from the waist of her underwear and down between her legs, "But, are y'wet enough for me, or do y'need some help?" 

His thumb grazed her clit, her body jumping at the slight touch. She could feel her insides pulsing, grasping for something that wasn't there yet. 

"I-I don't need help," she stuttered, pushing her hips against his hand in impatience, "Harry, please. I don't want you to leave before we're done." 

A pinch appeared between his brows then as he hooked his fingers into the gusset of her underwear, pulling the material to the side. "I would never leave y'like that, you know that. I'll always take care of m'angel."

As if to prove his point, she watched as he fisted his cock and ran the head along her folds. The air had been seemingly sucked out of the room at that moment, leaving her with a shuddering breath leaving her lungs and eyes fighting to close. She could feel his heavy gaze watching her as he nudged his cock against her pulsing opening, a small tease before he pulled back to slide through her folds once more. 

"Y'sure you're ready for me?" he teased, drawing out his words for just a second longer of the torture. 

"Harry, please," she told him, sounding a bit pathetic to her own ears though there was no guilt in the act. "I need you." 

He loved it when she pleaded with him like that. On longer nights, he would have pressed for more, taken any and every bit of begging she could offer, but she was sure the time limit was in the back of his mind when he didn't continue teasing. 

With a fluid push of his hips, he sunk in between her hips. (Y/N)'s lips fell open at the stretch, a moan getting stuck in her throat to leave nothing more than a heavy puff of air falling from her mouth. Harry's gaze was concentrated on where they were connected, his length disappearing inside her. His hand stretching back her panties let go when he bottomed out, his base pressing into her budding clit. 

His chest was heaving when he finally looked up at her once more. She could see the boundary of his irises beginning to waver, the black bleeding into the sclera. He was losing control in the most thrilling sense, the idea causing her walls to pulse around his splitting length. 

"'S been too long, darling," he told her, voice a low rumble. 

"Uh-huh," she sounded, giving a pathetic nod of her head with her hands fisting the bedding at her sides. She wanted so badly to reach for him, feel his skin under her palms, but feared flying away if she let go before she had her head on straight. 

"Never gonna wait this long again, 'kay?" Rearing back his hips, he grunted when he pushed through her channel once more. 

A puff of air left (Y/N)'s lungs once his hips pressed against hers in a slap, as if he had knocked it right out of her. Settling his hands on the bones of her hips, his thumbs stretched up towards the curve of her waist in a gentle sweeping that opposed the strength of his grip. He held her steady as he curated a fluid pace, knocking the breath out of her each time he sank inside her. 

(Y/N)'s breathing came in puffs every time she felt his tip nudge deep inside her, her body being pushed further and further into the mattress. Without his hands on her body keeping her place, she would have hit her head on the headboard by now, she figured, the thought being one that would have made her laugh if not for the fact that she was in the middle of something. 

"You're so tight," he gritted out, his voice deep and rumbling through his chest, "Thought y'said y'were ready for me." 

"I am, I am," she rushed out, pausing when he gave her a particularly punishing thrust, "I-Its been too long, re-rememeber?" 

His hands squeezed her hips that much more at her words. "I know, darling. Gonna have to make this one last then. Can't stretch y'out every time we fuck, can we?" 

Mindlessly, she shook her head, willing to agree with any and everything he was saying at the moment. She wouldn't mind him taking the time to stretch her out every time he pulled her to bed, but now wasn't the time to get greedy—she already had his cock rearranging her organs, there wasn't much more she could pine for, was there?

Except for maybe touching him herself. 

Not wanting to distract him from his job, (Y/N) unfurled her fingers from the sheets at her sides, reaching towards the thick of his arms. Her fingernails sunk into the skin, leaving small moon shapes that would no doubt still be pink by the time he was having to slip out and meet his friend. She liked the idea, her fingers clenching that much more, that a part of her would remain with him even when they couldn't be together. 

Harry was seemingly spurred on by the touch, hips knocking into hers in heady strokes. She was going to have bruises tomorrow, but she didn't care. Her mouth dropped open, small uh's leaving her parted lips in time with every push of his hips. 

"Harry, I-I," she started, her voice catching in her throat before she could say much more. 

"'M right here, darling, 's alright," he attempted to soothe her though his voice was strained and breathy with every thrust he sunk inside her. 

Her mouth was dry by the time she found her voice again, her eyes fluttering to a close. "I—Can—I want to touch—" 

That was all she managed to get out before a bubbling moan fell from her lips when he dared to grind against her once bottoming out. Through her taut underwear, he pressed against her clit, her body jumping at the touch.

"But you are touching me," he drawled, bringing her back down as he pulled his hips back. 

She knew he was only trying to goad her, get her stubborn and petulant in the way that always made him laugh, but she didn't care. It was going to work, but she would leave her scolding for later. 

"You know what I mean, Harry" she argued, peeling her eyes open to find him looking at her with that smug smile as if he wasn't exerting all of his energy into stealing her breath away. "You're being so mean to me!" 

"I'm being mean to you?" he repeated, the rhythm of his hips slowing just a hair when he brought the intensity of his gaze to match hers. "You really think that right now, darling?" 

"Yes, I do," she whined, now upset by the fact he was slowing down and not letting her touch him. She wrapped her legs around his hips from where he was knelt between her thighs in hopes of spurring him on, feeling the ridge of his length pressing through. 

One of his hands on her hips slid up her body, skating over her tummy and between her breasts until he landed on her neck. His palm laid flat on her collarbones with his fingers wrapping around her throat, a slight pressure. His hips worked in shallow thrusts, barely pulling his length out before he was pushing in once more. 

"Are you sure?" he pressed, a slight pressure closing in on the side of her throat as he squeezed that much more, "If this isn't enough for you, I can show y'how mean I can really be." 

(Y/N) felt her eyes round out as she gazed up at him, her heart stuttering in her chest. Time seemingly stood still in that moment, every detail melting away to leave only Harry in focus. 

"Oh my god," she murmured, her voice squeaking through her throat.

A slow smile tugged up the corner of Harry's lips. "No god, darling. Jus' me." 

(Y/N) couldn't help but to buck her hips against his, urging him for more. She could feel her walls fluttering around him, her wings at her back struggling against the mattress with their own restless energy begging to fluff out. 

Harry kept his hand as an anchoring weight on her throat as he dropped back into the rhythm of his hips, tightening in pulsing squeezes just long enough to have her eyes rolling to the back of her head before lightening up once more. His own control—despite the facade he was offering to (Y/N)—began to waver that much more. His eyes were almost completely black, the inky veins snaking out to envelope the sclera with every punishing thrust. The moment (Y/N) was back on Earth, peeling her eyes open enough, she swore she saw glimpses of his glamor fading, revealing the large black wings shrouding his back. 

He was close, that much she was sure of. 

"A-are you going to cum?" she asked, voice rumbling under his hand.

Shaking his head, he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. "Not until you, darling. Angels first." 

"But, I can see your wings." 

His breathing came in pants. "I know, but you're still finishing first, darling." 

Taking his hand off her neck, the ghost of his warmth left behind, Harry wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her off the bed. Repositioning himself, he knelt on the mattress as he dragged her into his lap. His cock was snug inside her when she settled over his thighs, feeling just that much deeper with the new angle. 

Wasting no time, he had his hands stationed on her hips once more, setting a pace for her to bounce on his cock. 

"Think y'can fuck yourself like this, darling? Do all the hard work for me?" he murmured, dragging his lips over the same parts of her neck where he had choked her moments before.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she answered, a mindless reflex as he concentrated on matching his grip. 

Using the leverage of her knees on either side of him, she lifted herself off his cock, allowing his head to stretch through her pulsing walls, before sitting herself back down in a smack of her skin against his. It was a relief to put her hands on him, feeling every inch she could reach. Her palms skimmed over the broad of his shoulders, planes of his back, and the thick of his arms all with her nails following closely behind.

Harry did much of the same, trailing up the curve of her spine until he found the base of her wings. (Y/N) couldn't help but to keen into his touch, back arching through it took everything in her to keep from getting distracted and keep riding him like he had asked. 

The first graze of his fingers over her feathers was enough to get her stomach tightening, and mouth dropping into a moan. She could feel him smiling against her neck, too proud over her reaction. 

"Always so cute, even when y'don't mean to be, you know that?" he murmured, dotting a kiss just below her ear, "All I've got to do is touch your feathers, and you're done for." 

She wanted to say something, tell him that it wasn't that easy, but there was nothing that would escape her lips other than puffs of heavy breath and whining moans.  

Rocking his hips up to meet hers, that much more pleasure settled in her stomach. As much as she wanted to argue with him that she wasn't that easy to make cum, there was some truth behind the fact that she was flying towards the finish line with every brush of his fingers and rock of his hips. 

"I can feel y'squeezing me, darling," he murmured, dragging his mouth over the line of her jaw in a lingering kiss, "Y'gonna cum for me? Did I finally work hard enough for you?" 

Despite the fact he'd asked her a question, there was no way he had been expecting an answer with the way he wiggled his fingertips through the brush of her feathers and coasted along the bony structure underneath. He knew she wouldn't be able to survive that, a long moan choking out from her throat with her stomach too tight to bear. 

(Y/N) tried to keep her pacing as best she could—something she couldn't believe Harry was able to do all the time—, but the rhythm was undoubtedly interrupted as she came around him. She could feel every inch of him as her insides pulsed around him, taking in the ridge of his head and the length that had split her open in the first place. His base was pressed heavily against her clit, rivaling the pressure of his fingers dancing through her feathers. 

She wanted to be present but the heavens called to her then, the Pocket left behind for a few lingering moments. By the time she was floating back down to Earth, Harry's hands settling on her hips as he lifted her off his cock, the sight before her was enough to get her back to square one, wishing they more time. 

Harry's eyes were now completely pitch black, no more white sclera or shatters of green to be seen. His glamour had faded away, leaving the leather stretch of his wings visible, the span much larger than her own as they fanned out around them. The webbing cocooned around them, creating a curtain around her body as if there wasn't enough of him touching her already. 

His cock shone in the low light between them, her slick coating him as he fisted the length. It only took a few passes of his hand before his cum blurted out in thick ropes across her stomach. 

"Fuck—(Y/N)—I—" Nothing of coherence fell from his lips then, every bit of concentration laid to rest as he watched himself cum on an angel. 

A furrow had his brows pinched together, his eyes hooded and dark. His mouth was stagnant in a gape once he stopped trying to speak. 

It wasn't until the remaining spurts of his cum rolled down his shaft and his ruddy head was seemingly beginning to stain purple that he pulled his shaky hands away. Using his wings as well as his hands, he hugged (Y/N) to his chest with his softening cock between them. Even with the mess that was beginning to dry on her stomach, he held her tight, pressing hard kisses to her temple and side of her face until he met her lips. 

"Y'okay?" he panted to her, the tip of his nose nudging against her own. 

"I'm okay," she murmured, wrapping her own arms around his neck. 

"Happy?" he asked, just the same as he always did in these quiet moments after the storm. 

A small smile stretched over her lips. "Happy." 

Gently laying her backwards, Harry kept himself glued to her, wings and all, as they settled among the sheets. Despite the fact he had no discernible pupil, she could feel his gaze traveling over her features and taking her in as he always did. She felt bashful under his eyes, her own wings shyly tucking into her back. 

"What is it, darling?" he asked, sweeping a few stray hairs from her face. 

"Nothing, just... You." 

"Just me?" he countered, reaching blindly for his discarded shirt he'd tossed earlier. 

"Just you," she repeated with a breathy laugh, allowing him to wipe his mess away with his shirt. (How he had the courage to clean her up with it knowing that he'd have to wear it out to meet his friend later, she wasn't sure). "How long can you stay?" 

Harry's features took on a somber set at her words, just the same as she felt. "Not long, darling. Jus' long enough to make sure y'get to sleep, then I'll have to leave." 

"What if I don't fall asleep?" 

The smile he gave her told her that he was very familiar with the game she was beginning to play with him. 

"Guess I'll have to stay." 

Despite the black eyes and leathery bat wings sprouting from his back, the sweet smile and boyish dimples in Harry's cheeks could rival that of any angel in (Y/N)'s opinion. 

That was why they worked, she thought as she snuggled closer to him: she brought out the angel in him and he showed her just how fun sinning could be.

—————

ahhhh I guess this is my little contribution to the valentines day vibe this year! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas send them in!! I also have more writing available on my patreon if you want more :)

[mistywaves98]

Just Scara appreciating your body aka lots and LOTS of body worship + slightly implied chubby! Reader and pervy! Scara if you squint

NSFW under the cut!

Scaramouche who just loves your hair, adoring the way he can weave his fingers between the strands for leverage whenever he's kissing or fucking you. Or when you wake up in the morning, with the top of your head looking like a rat's nest, he thinks the way it frames your face and sticks up wildly everywhere is cute. It reminds him of how messy it gets after you two have sex and the thought makes his pants tighten.

Scaramouche who just loves your cheeks, whether they're chubby or not. When you're angry, he fixates on the way they go red and puff up, making him want to kiss or pinch them. Or when you're crying in pleasure, his tongue is quick to dart out and lap at the tears running down the puffy skin.

Scaramouche who just loves your eyes, and could stare into them forever. No matter what colour, he just gets lost in them more often than not. The way they go lidded when his lips meet yours, or squint as he pleasures you. His favourite part is when they roll back as you orgasm.

Scaramouche who just loves your mouth, and the way your pretty lips frame it. They're so soft whenever he kisses you, he never wants to pull away till they're bruised and swollen. And the sweet moans that escape you when he's going down on you makes him so hard, watching as your little tongue lolls out as you get lost in bliss.

Scaramouche who just loves your neck, seeing it as a lovely canvas for him to decorate. More often than not you're neck is covered in hickey's, some new and some faded. He loves biting you everywhere, but there's something about marking up such a classic area. You never leave the bedroom without your entire throat and shoulders covered in purple-red blemishes.

Scaramouche who just loves your chest, especially your breasts. Size doesn't matter to him, he'll squeeze and fondle the soft mounds to his heart's content. He loves the way you tug on his hair whenever he sucks and plays with your nipples till they're puffy and swollen. He finds great comfort in burying his face between them whenever you ride him.

Scaramouche who just loves your arms. The way they wrap around his body, holding him close is just so comforting. The best part, in his opinion, is when they loop around his neck whenever you both engage in a sensual make out session, the warmth radiating from them making him feel fuzzy on the inside.

Scaramouche who just loves your hands, they're so dainty, he thinks to himself even if they're not smaller than his. The way your fingers curl around his length when he makes you jerk him off has him throwing his head back, grabbing your wrist to guide you at a pace to his liking. The sight alone has him cumming into your palm, and he just has to take a picture of the way his semen drips from your digits afterwards.

Scaramouche who just loves your stomach, especially if you're a bit more on the chubby side. If you're taking it from behind, his hands have a habit of creeping around your waist to sink into the soft flesh of your middle, groaning at the way it squishes beneath his palm. Even in a non sexual scenario, he loves giving you back hugs, his hands sneakily going beneath your shirt to play with your chubby tummy as he buries his face in your neck.

Scaramouche who just loves your hips, not caring if you have hip dips or not. Hell, he probably wouldn't even know the difference. The slight sway as you walk has his mind wandering to not-so-innocent places. Everytime you two have sex, his hands' default resting place is on your hips, using them to move you up and down his stiff cock.

Scaramouche who just loves your thighs, the way they're so soft and make a great pillow for his head. He loves it when you wear skirts or shorts, the fabric framing your thighs perfectly. When he's eating you out, he makes it a point to pull your thighs around his head, moaning in pleasure as the plush flesh engulfs him.

Scaramouche who just loves your ass, flat or not he can and he IS going to smack it hard at the most random times. You ask why he's always lagging behind you when you're walking somewhere and he brushes it off as wanting to see the scenery. But little did you know that the 'scenery' is your ass. If you're doing it doggystyle, he will be slapping and groping the flesh of your behind like its a stress ball at his disposal.

Scaramouche who just loves your pussy, his favourite thing about you aside from the fact that you're...well, you. It doesn't matter if he's using his tongue, fingers or cock, the way you clench and cum around him gives him a high like no other. If you're wearing a skirt and the wind happens to be blowing a bit too hard, he'll be breaking his neck to try and get a peak at those soft cotton panties that hug the puffy lips of your folds in a way that makes him drool.

Scaramouche who just loves your legs. He's developed a little habit of throwing them over his shoulders whenever he's got you in a mating press or feasting on your pussy. The way your toes curl as he makes your squirt all over his dick makes him feel smug.

[ghostlythunderbird]

The Pack ~ The Letter

Pairings: Alpha!Konig, Alpha!Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alpha!Keegan P. Russ X Omega!Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors/Ageless Blogs DNI, Omegaverse, Mentions of Anxiety/Panic attack, Ghost and Keegan are kinda mean for this one (Im sorry!), Konig being a big softie for Reader, Mostly Fluff for this one!

Words: 4,437 (Went a little too wild with this one!)

Author’s Notes: Please do not repost, edit, or translate my work. This blog and all content will be marked 18+ even if there is no NSFW content, if you are underage or have no age I don't want to deal with you. So sorry for the long time to update, I'm currently recouping after my hand surgery so ill try and update when I can, it sucks trying to write with one hand XD.

Summary: After being introduced to your new pack, you are taken to your new home or 'Den' at this point. While the introduction part went almost seamlessly, your starting to figure out that these alphas might be a little hard to get along with.

The drive home was nothing less than silent; aside from König sitting in the back seat with you, the two other alphas were quiet. 'Maybe they are the strong silent type.' You had told yourself. While you wanted to ask anything about themselves, you had a strong feeling that you would be told to be quiet by these alphas.

Close to an hour later, the car had come to pull into a short driveway. Looking out the window, the house itself was decent from the outside. A standard brick suburban house, copied and pasted much like many others on both sides of the street. The red bricks and white paneling nearly blinded you as you stared at it. Before you could ponder more on the look of your new 'home' the door on your side opened, The Alpha known as Ghost stood there "Come on, out ya get."

Sliding out of the vehicle you were snatched up by König who gently guided you up the steps to the front door. "Don't worry about your stuff right now, Schatz. We will get it later." Without another word, the front door was finally opened.

Your new home was lackluster; if you googled a Bachelor pad, this would be the definition of one. While there was furniture, it didn't feel as homey as you had expected. The living room was bare other than the oversized L-shaped couch and T.V. stand it faced. Hell, these guys didn't even have a fucking coffee table, of all things. As you further overlooked the room, you noticed the bare white walls. No different colored paint, picture frames, or calendar was hung up.

Just an empty minimalistic house. Perfect for three military bachelors.

As you stepped through the front door, you nearly lost your breath after the mix of alphas scents. The overall musk almost sent you to your knees, through the overbearing scent hints of Cinnamon, Vanilla, Mint, Smoke, and Leather blended in almost perfectly.

 Minutes passed as you regained yourself before you looked back towards the door to find König waiting for you to continue. "Are you okay, Schatz?" His voice was soft as he began to approach you. While you knew his second gender and the horror stories your family had told you growing up, none seemed to fit his character. His sheer size alone would make anyone panic if he approached, but with him nervously clutching his hands to soothe his anxiety. It made him appear much less intimidating and rough around the edges, reminding you more of a large shelter dog being welcomed into a new house for the first time. He wanted you to accept his home, his den, as somewhere you would feel comfortable and safe. 

From Konig's point of view, None of this seemed real to him.

In two weeks, König went from a pack-less and omega-less Apex to not just having his own pack but an omega that he could protect and care for. Everything was a mirage that could disappear should he touch it. But seeing you here before him, nothing less of a goddess, made it much more believable. "If you two are going to have an emotional moment, at least move out of the fucking doorway so people can get into the damn house." Ghost growled out as he passed both of you. Keegan followed close behind, but unlike Ghost, he gave you a blank stare as he passed. 

Looking down towards you, König felt his anxiety rear its head. Your face had fallen and a sour tone began to line your once relaxing scent. as you watched the two alphas walk away from the door.

As wordlessly they came in, they disappeared up the stairs to their shared room. This brought König to sigh heavily as he looked down at you again. "Don't worry, Schatz. They will warm up to you……eventually" He wasn't sure if he was telling you this or trying to reassure himself at the pair's attitude that one eighty once they were back in their den.

He didn't want you to feel they despised your existence as soon as you entered their lives. "Why don't we get you settled? I'm sure you're ready to rest." With the Apex mentioning this, your eyes lit up, and you couldn't help but smile at him. "Definitely; it seems like we all need a fat nap."

Both you and König laughed before he led you up the stairs. Reaching the next floor, he showed you where the single bathroom was and his, Ghost, and Keegan's bedrooms, just in case. At the end of the hallway was the final room. "This was Ghost's room originally, but once we were accepted, we all decided to leave one room open for you. So that you have your own space away from us." Upon opening the room, you were presented with one of the most enormous beds you'd ever seen. Resting on top were bags on bags of not just new nesting material. This ranged from thick fluffy comforters to sleek silk sheets; however, they lacked color.

It was a swirl of black and white with an underlying mix of grey.

It rendered you motionless as you took in the sheer amount, had these alphas gone out and bought you a whole nest and a half of material? You had never heard of alphas going to these lengths to make an omega comfortable. As you looked toward the Apex in the doorway, the anxiety in his posture was evident.

His hands were drawn up to his chest, clutching pieces of his shirt into his hands. He was even slouched forward to lower his overall height to match yours, even with it being impossible without him going to his knees.

"Well, I uh.....I'll leave you to get settled. Just call for us if you need anything." Without another word, the Apex left, closing the door behind him.

With that, you turned back to look at the covered bed before finally moving to clear off the excessive amount of nesting material lumped together. What you thought was an easy 15-minute job turned into 45 simply because your omega was getting too far distracted by the number of gifts she was given.

'Soft and Secure. Alphas are perfect, bringing nice gifts for a nest. The perfect nest for Alpha's pups.' She yipped. You were startled back to reality, god you haven't even known these alphas for a whole day, and suddenly, your omega is presenting herself, begging to be bred by these practical strangers. 'Jesus, you need to focus' Shacking your head to rid your mind of the intrusive thoughts, you attempted to finish your task.

Why would your omega be so enamored even after how the other two alphas seemed to want nothing to do with you?

Once all the material was put away for the time being, you had a yawn slip from your mouth. How long have you been up today? It was well over 14 hours at this point. Why not take a quick break. Deciding to rest, you had walked towards the sorted assortment of nesting materials before you settled on one of the larger and softer blankets. The void color overtook your view as you pulled it from its packaging.

'So soft,' You tiredly thought. After making it onto the bed and ensuring the blanket fully covers you, you finally lay down. Letting the bed hold the weight of your body.

It was quiet as you brought the blanket further up your chin. The only audible noise in the room was the sound of the ceiling fan. You hadn't realized how mentally exhausted you were from the entirety of not just today but the past few weeks. Each blink drew slower and slower until your vision went black, and your mind drifted to dreamless slumber.

~~~~~Flashback~~~~~

The sound of the T.V. did so little to drown out König's thoughts; König primarily spent the little time he had away from his rather dangerous occupation thinking about the 'What ifs' of his life. He was so caught in his thoughts he didn't realize Ghost had come back into the house, his hands full with mail. Most were bills, but one was large and thick compared to the rest.

Ghost placed all the envelopes on the counter before sorting them; the largest was addressed to König. From the Alpha Pack Selection Program. Something that the resident Apex had waited for close to 4 weeks for a response, one that hopefully bared good news. "König." His gruff voice echoed out.

Being pulled from his overreactive mind, the Apex leaned slightly to look at the other Alpha. The manilla folder being held transformed into a brightly lit target to the Austrian sprawled out on the couch.

The large man lunged off the couch, startling the smaller Alpha, who had just descended the stairs. "Jesus, König, a bit of a fucking warning." Keegan couldn't help but snarl after nearly getting run over by the Apex. It was rare for these sorts of incidents to happen in the house; the two alphas and the Apex were incredibly aware of where each was and their schedules. 

König was zeroed entirely in on the envelope in Ghost's hand, while he may have been eager to receive this letter. He couldn't help but fear their answer; after their last response, it would make seven rejections from the program. Each time was for the same reason "Due to your Apex representation, we regretfully have to decline your enrollment to our program." But it still didn't stop him from taking it and tore the envelope open. "well, come on mate, what does it say?" Ghost nudged his arm; the Apex hadn't realized that Ghost had even rounded the corner to stand beside him.

König took in a deep breath before releasing as he unfolded the papers to read the words printed onto the paper.

Dear Applicant,

It has come to our attention that you have sent multiple applications over the last few years. Each one followed with a swift rejection from our programs as your representation would cause an upset in both our application alphas who may be paired with you and in the omegas who could be assigned to your care.

While we appreciate the time and effort you have invested in becoming part of this program, we have concluded that we will no longer accept any future applications from you. However, with this harsh news, we will allow a new application with you, but you must have at least two other alphas willing to become paired with you in a pack. 

This envelope contains four applications for alphas willing to work and be assigned to a shared omega. These applications are only viable for 30 days; afterward, we will no longer accept any attempts to pair you. As well as, all previous information you provided will be deleted from our database.

~ The Alpha Pack Selection Program council 

The silence that surrounded the air of the Alphas was suffocating. Even with the tv playing in the background, it was drowned out by the tense atmosphere. König felt like he couldn't breathe; until a sob forced its way out, and air seemed to flood his lungs again. How was he supposed to find someone willing to pack with him? and within 30 days? No one wanted to be stuck with him, and he hardly knew any other Alphas outside his work. And those he did work with? Most were already packed or swore off mating altogether. 

This was it, his final chance to be accepted. With no potential pack-mates, he would lose his only chance of finding a mate and having pups. The world wanted him to live the rest of his life, never knowing the sweet touch of the omega for which he would lay down his life. To never know the feeling of pure happiness looking at a pup made from his omega and himself. A piece of him that he helped create.

Why? Why. Why. Why. WHY.

He hadn't realized that he was beginning to have a panic attack until Ghost dug his fingers into his shoulder. König could feel his body trembling, rolling off in waves, making his balance waver. "König, mate, you need to breathe," Ghost told him hushedly. Ghost and Keegan shared a look as the Apex slumped forward onto the counter, his head falling forward into his hands. 

Steadying his breathing, König straightened his back and pushed the papers away as they burned him. While his day may have been uneventful, he wished he had never opened the damn letter now. The crushing weight that bared on his shoulders now seemed to grow heavier as the seconds passed. Looking at the stack of papers, Ghost couldn't help but look at the pages that caused König to damn near crumble before them. 

The words spilled out before he made him sick. Why are they just now sending this? After all those years König spent trying to be accepted in this shitty program and getting rejected every time, they decide now to tell him what he needs to be accepted. Talk about hitting a man while he's down. Looking towards the dark-haired Alpha, leaning against the back of the couch, "Keegan, take a look at this fuckin' shit." While reading over the papers, the smaller Alpha couldn't believe the audacity of these fucking people. All this just because he was a slightly different second gender?

Casting a glance at the large Apex, who seemed to be on the verge of shutting down completely. While Keegan was a hardass, usually, he couldn't help but feel bad for his brother-in-arms. "So they are telling you to find a pack outside this program to be accepted? What a load of crap." His brain couldn't help but reel at the fact they were giving him only 30 days to figure this out; who could even help him now? He paused. Looking between Ghost and König, he knew what he was about to say would either be genius or he was about to be hit for. "What if Ghost and I pack with you?"

König and Ghost both wheeled around, both wearing surprised expressions. "The fuck are you on about? Did you hit your head on your last O.P.?" Ghost exclaimed as he stepped toward the smaller Alpha. "How are we the best options for a fuckin pack?" Keegan took a step backward as Ghost entered his space. 'Fuck, probably should have kept my mouth shut.'

Clearing his throat, "Think about it, Ghost, we're both unbonded alphas who know König the best; hell, we already live with him. And he needs a pack to be accepted. Why not throw us in and see where we go?" The air between them grew tense as the larger Alpha stared at him. "Right, and we're the best choices to take care of an omega; last I checked, neither of us have been around one." Ghost spoke through a tense jaw. As much as he was against being anywhere around an omega, he knew it was the best option between them.

König looked at them both. "A-are you guys sure? I know you guys aren't comfortable with this; I don't want you to force yourselves into this just because of me." The Apex was ecstatic to hear that they would try, but he knew he couldn't get his hopes up with this. There was still the possibility they would all be rejected. 

"If this gets you into that program, I will push for it as much as possible." Keegan calmly stated. The Apex looked towards Ghost, who still looked unsure, giving him a kicked puppy look.

The blonde Alpha signed before giving König a look. "Alright, we'll give it a go. But if they reject us, this Program business stops. Are we clear on that?" König nodded ecstatically while Keegan released a deep chuff. The emotions swept over the Apex so much he didn't realize he had dragged Ghost into a bear hug. "GET OFF ME, YOU FUCKIN MUPPET; Keegan, help me out ere'!"  

~~~~~~

After sending in the paperwork, they got their response two weeks later.

They were accepted.

König felt like he was about to pass out; everything was starting to work out. But it was only the beginning for the newly formed pack. Not only were they a pre-formed pack, but due to their extended military service, they were also notified that they could choose their omega. Hence the giant pile of files on the kitchen table.

It felt like they'd been at this for hours, passing the scent samples for each one to inhale. Each Alpha had the scent samples they liked, but when presented to the other two, it was met with a swift rejection and sometimes with a comment. While some omegas looked good on paper or had a decent scent, the Alphas couldn't agree.

"How about this one? She comes from a wealthy family in Italy, and it even says, 'She enjoys the finer things in life.'

"No, Keegan, It sounds like she'd be more of a glorified brat. Anyone born with a silver spoon in their mouth is nothing but trouble for people in our job."

Or it's a same-answer vote.

"Yeah fuck this one; smells like a Hospital."

"I'm going to have to agree with Ghost on this one. It reminds me of when my mom used so much cleaner in the house when I was a kid."

They thought this would be the easiest part, but they were definitely over their heads. Ghost finally stood up in a rage. "We've been sitting here for fuckin HOURS, and not a single one we have agreed on. Most of them smell like shite too." The Alpha raised his hands and walked to the fridge to grab another beer. KKönig stood as well at the other Alpha's tone. "No one said the selection was easy, and there's only a few left. Let's get through them, and then we can take a break." The Apex pleaded.

That only seemed to rile up the exasperated Alpha more "How the hell are we going to find an omega at this point? We can't agree on a single one?" Both alphas stared at each other "HOW DO YOU KNOW? WE ARENT EVEN DONE!"  

Keegan watched as both alphas continued to argue; their conversation slowly was tuned out as he watched while resting his head in one hand. As much as he wanted to pipe up to aid König in calming Ghost down, He knew better than to get between these two during times like this. Before Keegan could intervene, a quick breeze of something sweet passed his nose, and the Alpha couldn't help but follow it back to the remaining folders. This scent was the best one he'd had all day, so he couldn't help but be curious.

It led him to a file towards the bottom that seemed much newer but was thinner than the other files in the stack. Once he opened it, the sweet scent was no longer teasing him. Taking the scent sample from the file, Keegan couldn't stop himself from pressing it to his nose and inhaling deeply.

It felt like he became weightless for those seconds; how had he not noticed this one earlier? It reminded him of the smell of fresh rainfall, a sweet yet calming scent. His Alpha couldn't help but be drawn to whoever the smell belonged to; without a second thought, Keegan pulled back from the cloth to look at the pages in the folder. Whoever's file this was about was the smallest one he had seen from the entire stack.

The picture attached gave him a view of the person that caught his Alpha’s attention.

You were stunning; His Alpha yipped in delight. ‘Yes, yes! Pretty mate! Must mate, Must protect!’

However, something felt wrong in the picture. Looking closer, the smile that graced your features didn't seem to reach your eyes. Your eyes held sadness and hidden anger that could reveal itself should you choose to snap. As his eyes flickered across the pages, Keegan stored everything he could about you away.

Omega Profile

Name: (Y/N) (L/N)

Age: 23

Sex: Female

Second Gender: Omega

Personality: N/A. Omega and Family declined to file the Omega Attribute survey.

The sickening sound of glass crack made Keegan snap his head upwards; the sight before him was far from good. Ghost and König stood only a few feet apart; the Apex and Alpha had their teeth bared and chests puffed up. Ghost was making his displeasure clear to the Apex while König was getting close to putting him back in his place among the three. It wasn't often it happened due to each other's work schedule, but when it did, someone was going to have their ego bruised, and some furniture might end up being broken.

“I highly recommend to watch what you say next, Simon.” The Apex spoke. His voice had dropped an octave; His Apex was close to taking over to deal with the Alpha. Ghost was silent before scoffing, moving to clean up his broken glass of bourbon. Keegan took this as his chance to break the tense air. “If you two are done with your pissing contest, I think I got one.” He slowly held up the small cloth between his index and middle fingers. As much as Keegan wanted to hoard the small cloth to himself, he needed to let at least his newfound packmates have a chance to decide if the omega was a good fit.

König was the only one who returned to the table to remove the cloth from Keegan’s hand. Lifting it towards his nose, he caught the scent almost immediately. It had him completely forgetting his altercation just minutes prior. “wow….I like this one; her scent is not overpowering and smells good. Simon, wanna try this one?” The Apex had turned back to the Alpha, who was leaning on the counter nursing a new glass of bourbon. The look in his eyes made Konig nervous; the Blonde Alpha was definitely over the whole experience, but seeing how both Keegan and König agreed on the scent patch, it seemed to be at least a contender.

Sighing, He set his drink on the counter before returning to the table. König slowly held the cloth towards him, but before he took it, he looked towards the two Alphas. “If this one smells like shite, I'm punching both of you.” Simon grumbled before snatching the small fabric. He stared at the cloth before finally giving in; as soon as the scent filled his nose, it was as if all the tension in his body had just melted away.

The other Alphas held their breath as they waited to see what the blonde alpha had to say. Simon looked at the pair as he set the cloth on the table near the open file. “Well, she doesn't smell bad. What's in her file?”

Keegan and König shared a look before handing Simon the file; It seemed they finally agreed on their potential omega.

~~~~~

The days counting down to them finally meeting you and bringing you home were absolutely hectic, to say the least. So many emotions filled the small townhouse as all three alphas cleaned and organized the house as best as they could, no omega should have a dirty home when they come home in the alpha's mind. Most were bouts of Anxiousness and Frustration, a vast majority were from the poor Apex who checked everything twice to make sure everything was perfect.

At the one-week mark Ghost and Keegan decided to move into the same room to make sure you have a space for yourself as you settled down. The move sparked from just the simple question "Where is our omega going to stay until she's warmed up to us?" To say it had the alphas taking multiple steps back was an understatement. Another thing that was brought up (By Ghost mind you) was what were you going to use should you decide to make a nest.

It may have not been something the Alphas were well versed in, but they at least made an effort. Cue the three alphas going out and buying almost two whole carts full of nesting material, plus the whole material selection boot camp.

"What about this one? It's big and it's super soft!" ~ König

"No no, She needs something that won't stick to her if she uses this for her heats. What about that silk sheet kinda stuff?" ~ Keegan

"Why not just get her some fucking blankets and pillows, This nesting shit can't be that complicated" ~ Ghost

It was definitely quite the scene watching these big alphas carry multiple bags worth of nesting material due to them being unsure what to get.

Once everything was settled, the day when they finally got to meet you arrived. The checking-in process was seamless, soon leading to the alphas being led to a smaller room waiting for the actual introduction. From what the receptionist had told them the Omegas family still needed to finalize paperwork, It had been the longest wait any of the alphas had ever done. But when the door finally opened to reveal the betas and you, time seemed to stand still.

They collectively decided they would die for you if it made you happy.

~~~~~

It had been a few hours since König had left your room. Call him paranoid, but no noise was coming from the door. Worried about you, he walked back to your door before knocking.

"(Y/N)? Is everything okay?" Hearing no response, he slowly opened the door and was greeted by a dimly lit room. And there on the bed, you laid completely still on the massive bed, sound asleep.

Once you walked in through that door, all his fears and worries seemed to implode and no longer existed. You were more than everything he could have dreamed of; how you weren't already paired was beyond him. You entangled him. Everything about you was beautiful, from your hair and eyes to your body. It wasn't until he had heard his name from downstairs that he was brought out of his trance.

He was casting you one last glance, taking in your sleeping form before turning to leave. König told himself he would make this work. Because now that he had you, He wasn't ever going to let you go.

Tag List: @silentmel, @thisperspective, @thebestgirlever2, @ghostalina, @pascallllllll1, @jujitsuito2069, @hypernovaxx, @frazie99, @v1naco, @littlezarp, @thatoneautor0123, @credince--writes, @4ndjelij4, @alonelyteenagebroncinbuck, @alonelyteenagebroncinbuck, @random0lover, @wintersnnowie, @operatorinvestigatesco, @marytvirgin, @nightriver99, @l-lend, @kelpiesummer, @quietlyignoringyou

[d3add0vedonoteat]

Carbonara (or Carmy Cooks for You)

Pt. 2 of Chicken Soup for Carmy

This is part 2 of Chicken Soup for Carmy! I hope you love it. NO WARNINGS. Pure fluff

Your apartment was warm. You entered ahead of Carmy, hanging your coat on the wall and kicking off your shoes. “Make yourself at home!” You invited, jovially.

Carmy followed suit, taking in your space. It smelled like you. It was small, but cozy. Personal touches littered every inch of the space. Your kitchen was to the left, a small wooden table against the wall for your dining area. The kitchen counter looked out to the moderately sized living room. Your little orange velvet couch sat before exposed brick and two tall windows. The wall to the left was covered with posters and picture frames, to the right were a pair of bookshelves without an inch of space that wasn’t occupied by a book or trinket. Several plants crowded the windowsills. The rug was soft and plushy on his feet. It would seem hectic to the blind eye, but Carmy could sense the intention behind each item present. Drumming his fingers on his leg, he chose to look at the wall of pictures. It was an eclectic mix of old posters; there were vintage Coca Cola posters, fashion campaigns from the 70s and 80s, music posters like The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Led Zepplin and such.. There were pictures and Polaroids of you with people he didn’t recognize and a few random things in picture frames; a pressed flower, a movie ticket, an unused tea bag, a coffee cup sleeve with a scrawling handwriting on it that said “don’t look back”.

You emerged from the bathroom, your hair free from the bun Carmy was used to. It fell about your face, messy and wild in a way that made the breath catch in Carmy’s throat. You joined him at his side, smiling at the wall before you.

“My scrap wall,” you explained. “I love the idea of scrapbooks but I like seeing things everyday.” Carmy nodded, staring at your profile. The slope of your nose, the curve of your lips. He could reach out and caress your cheek… he wrenched his gaze from you and forced it to the wall. “I uh, I had no idea you were into vintage stuff.” He said.

“Likewise.” He raised his brow at you sideways and you laughed. “Loopwheel? Very Americana.” Carmy’s face felt hot. Was this real? It couldn’t be. How could you be any more perfect. You were still wearing his shirt. “Come on, I’m starving.”

Carmy had perused your fridge and pantry, settling on the dish he’d make. You sat at the little table, one leg pulled up to your chest and scratching away in a notebook before you. Music from the playlist you put on floated through the space, complimenting the ambient sound of Camry hard at work. It was so domestic. Usually, Carmy was anxious. His head pounded, his heart raced, and he could never catch his breath. But here with you, Carmy felt peaceful. It was like he’d done this a thousand times before. It was comfortable, safe. Carmy’s chest felt warm and relaxed. His mind wandered as his well practiced hands moved through the recipe. He imagined being here with you, making dinner together after a long day at the restaurant or curled up on the couch watching something on tv, how his arms would wrap around you and you’d lay your head on his chest. Little things filled his mind: going grocery shopping together, washing dishes, folding laundry, having coffee in the morning sitting in your couch and discussing vintage American icons. Sleeping beside you, feeling your skin against his, feeling your-

“Fuck!” The hot sear of the pan against Carmy’s hand snapped him out of his thoughts. You leapt to your feet, rushing over to him.

“Are you okay?!” You asked, grasping his hand in both of yours and guiding it under the stream of cold water. Truthfully, Carmy couldn’t even feel the burn. Not when your hands were on him. You cooed and tutted, closely inspecting his hand.

“I’m alright.” He assured you. You looked up at him and released his hand, much to Carmy’s dismay. You were close, the sink pressed against your back. If you took an extra deep breath your chest would brush against his. Carmy wasn’t particularly tall, but the way he looked down at you, his eyes dark and glued to yours, lips parted slightly, and his uninjured hand resting on the edge of the counter beside you, it felt like he towered over you.

“C-can I help?” You didn’t mean for your voice to come out as such a whisper, but you couldn’t help it. His proximity made you dizzy.

“No, no… it’s almost done.”

It felt like an eternity while you stared at each other. You forced yourself away, resuming your place at the table while your heart screamed at the four foot distance. The next few minutes passed in silence until Carmy set a warm bowl in front of you.

Your jaw dropped.

Carmy kicked the door to the alley open, flicking his lighter. He felt like he was going to explode. Richie’s constant bitching, the endless mess of the office and the kitchen, everything was fucked. It was fucked. Carmy ran a frantic hand through his hair. He couldn’t breathe. He took a few steps into the alley, fully intending on having a total meltdown until he heard it. A sniffle.

You sat with your back against the bricks, your head in your hands. “Hey,” Carmy tried to make his voice as gentle as he could. “Are you, um- are you okay?”

Carmy felt his heart drop out of his body when you turned your face to him. Your eyes were red and puffy, tears staining your cheeks. Shit. Shit shit shit. What had he done? How had he fucked this up already? What happened? Was it Richie? He’d kill him.

“I’m sorry, chef.” You said, wiping your face.

“Carmy.” He said, quickly. “Sorry um… just you can call me Carmy.”

You smiled softly, despite the tears in your eyes you were beautiful. “Carmy,” you tested it on your tongue. Carmy thought he’d explode hearing your sweet voice say his name. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be crying at work it’s just-” you choked up, averting your gaze and shamefully wiping your tears.

Carmy sank down to sit beside you, unsure. You sighed. “My mom uh… she’s kind of fucked up. And my brother keeps calling and screaming at me because he wants me to go home and take care of her but…” you shook your head. “I just can’t go back there, ya know?”

Carmy’s heart panged with empathy. “Yeah, I know what you mean…”

“It was so fucked up when I was a kid, though.” You stared up at the sky. “When I was 10, my mom would make carbonara every Wednesday. It was my favorite day of the week because I loved carbonara. When she started to get worse, I’d make it on Wednesdays just trying to hold onto it you know? I haven’t made it since I was a kid… I don’t know, I just… couldn’t bring myself to. I miss it though.”

Carmy let you vent but truthfully, he didn’t know what to say. It was a little too close to home for him. He just watched you. The sun on your face, the puffiness subsiding from your eyes. He looked down at the ground, worried he’d say something stupid if he kept staring at you. You sighed again. You turned your head to him with a soft smile on your lips. “Thank you for listening to me rant. It feels good to say it out loud.”

Carmy’s cheeks tingled as he met your gaze. He smiled in return, the anxiety that had driven him into the alley in the first place was a million miles away.

“Yeah, anytime.”

You stared at the bowl before you. A nest of creamy spaghetti, dusted with grated Parmesan, crispy pancetta, and vibrant green chives. You felt your throat grow tight, tears pricking at your eyes. Carmy settled in the chair across from you and you stared at him in disbelief. “Carbonara?”

Carmy was suddenly nervous. Had he overstepped? “You uh, you said you hadn’t had it in a while.”

Nothing could have prepared Carmy for the look on your face. Eyes wide at him and beaming with adoration. You opened your mouth to say something, but the words seemed to fall short so instead you lifted a forkful of the creamy noodles to your lips. You sighed with delight when it touched your tongue. “Oh my god…”

“Good?”

You nodded, vigorously. “That is the best carbonara I’ve ever had.” You shook your head with a chuckle as you continued to eat. “You’re so annoying.”

“What?” Carmy practically choked he was so confused.

You laughed again, the melodic sound easing his nerves. “You’re SO good at this. Better be careful or I’ll have to make you cook dinner every night.”

Carmy couldn’t think of anything he’d like more. The warmth in his chest was threatening to spill over as he gathered all his courage into one single word: “promise?”

Seeing Carmy outside of the restaurant already gave you butterflies, but having him in your apartment so close you could touch made your knees weak. You stood at the sink side by side washing the dishes from dinner. Your shoulders bumped every few seconds. You had just made Carmy laugh with your very strong opinions of John Lennon. You’d never heard him laugh like that before, so earnest and carefree. His shoulders seemed lighter, his eyes brighter. The stress of family and the restaurant was far behind both of you, kept out by your apartment door. You hummed, wishing this night could last forever.

“Yeah… me too.” Carmy was grinning at you, cheeks tinged red and bashful. Your eyes widened, had that been out loud?

“Sorry, I uh- I just mean um-” you looked shyly over to him. He was drying his hands, leaning against the counter with a pleased smile on his perfect lips.

“It’s okay,” he assured. Carmy stepped closer. The warmth in his chest was boiling over. He reached up slowly and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered against your cheek. “I like taking care of you too.”

[antiphilosophia]

Crowley's pre-fall name is BARAQIEL (THEORY)

THIS POST MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS OR RATHER CLUES FOR GOOD OMENS SEASON 2 CONTENTS, PROCEED WITH CAUTION 🤍

Very well. Who doesn't love the Crowley is the Archangel Raphael theory (I am certainly of those people who do). During my first watch of Good Omens S2 I was even somehow almost confident that that was the case.

However, my second, more careful, viewing of this lovely (but equally heartbreaking) season made me change my mind, likely for good. In episode 4, Furfur's book "Demon's Guide To Angelic Beings Who Walk The Earth" shows us a name of a certain angel Baraqiel. (see photo below) Knowing Good Omens that can hardly be a coincidence.

Unfortunately, the very text is quite unreadable. One thing, other than the name, which is pretty clear is the subheading "Angel of the Sky" and since the episode 1 lets us take a look at how Crowley did indeed take part in creation of what is to be seen in the night sky, one can hardly find that entirely non-fitting. One other sentence I was (at least I think) able to read is "Often draped in red."

(On a different note but certainly worth noticing are scribbles that generally just roast Crowley – his suspiciousness, hair and name (though I am not absolutely sure of the latter) "His hair is bad!" Wow, Furfur really does hate Crowley.)

Then there is something written above the name of Baraqiel, unfortunately in none of the picture frames does it get a bit readable. I wonder though, couldn't it be "former"? Since it comes precisely after mention of Crowley to whom should one report on Aziraphale.

Crowley is very powerful. Dominion

A word that is not exactly readable but can be deduced from its placement (it is situated just as Aziraphale's "Principality") is Baraqiel's rank – Dominion Angel. It should be noted here that I very much lack proper knowledge of either Jewish or Christian mythology and I would hate to provide any incorrect claims. I therefore think it is better for me not to overly state things, even more so since everyone can look into it on their own and figure out what that might mean for our beloved demon. What I will say, however, is that they are (as I understand it) very powerful and, placed within the 2nd triad in the angel hierarchy, ranked higher than the Archangels. This would go well along with the emphasis that was in my opinion laid on Crowley's powers quite a lot this season.

For example: "A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of archangels could've performed," said Shax to Crowley, to which he replied: "How'd you know I didn't do it?" He didn't get an answer.

What I think (and I may be very wrong, obviously) is that a miracle of this vastness wouldn't have happened simply because of a regular angel and a regular demon did together half a miracle each. What is also worth noticing is that the tool with which Crowley created the Nebula is the same as the one he used to temporarily stop time at the end of season 1 right before Satan's arrival. So much to the size of his powers.

Baraqiel, lightning of God. Fallen angel

Finally, to Baraqiel himself. My lack of knowledge concerning this matter still stands and frankly I don't even know where to find valid information about angels and such on the internet. Baraqiel should, however, stand for "lightning of God" and is also regarded as the angel of lightning. In season 2 there are (as far as I remember) two occasions where Crowley is put in correlation with lightning. (1) His poor anger management issues in episode 1 and (2) his not at all better matchmaking in episode 3 ("I haven't done weather in ages"). Furthermore, Baraqiel is considered to be the one who taught astrology to people. Nevertheless, what points to Crowley and Baraqiel being one even more is that Baraqiel is indeed a fallen angel.

•

So... That is probably it. I usually tent to theorize about stuff in quiet, in fact, this is the first time I've used Tumblr for anything other than reading Neil Gaiman's posts. I didn't even think that I would actually post it but then I've searched on Twitter, TikTok and here on Tumblr if anyone else has already come up with this theory. The only post I could find (hopefully I haven't missed anything) was by @valaza_04 on Twitter (click here) where they refer to the same frame shot as I do here.

Now I know, we are still recovering from heartbreaking (but if you ask me, absolutely amazing) finale and the main thing currently on our minds is figuring out why would Aziraphale choose as he did and the many wonderful theories that come with it. However, considering the utterly virulent look that Metatron shot at Crowley before walking out of the bookshop with Aziraphale and also his "Well, [Crowley] always did want to go his own way. Always asking damn fool questions, too." makes me think that he absolutely does not care for Crowley and whichever angel he was before the Fall. And I reckon it won't remain unnoticed in season 3 and might even be really important (or that is just me wishing for more pre-fall Crowley scenes). Hence I decided that I will post this. And it doesn't matter if no one will see this in the end, it was quite fun to write. However, if there is someone who will read this all the way through, I hope they will accept my apology for the mistakes I have most possibly made (English is not my first language) and also for the ridiculous length this post has come to gather. It turns out, I am just as chatty of a writer as I am speaker.

Well maybe I will come around to write one more post about this theory, only with a proper research this time. Till then thank you and, please, support this season by streaming as much as you can so we can have season 3 of this masterpiece of a show. And be kind to those bringing it to us in your comments regarding the ending, even though it is very frustrating and heart-shattering, it is also maybe the best ending we could have hoped for with the prospects of season 3.

Thank you for letting me talk my heart out, Tumblr.

[penvisions]

zest {chapter 3}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Your time away with Joel starts now and he makes you feel all kinds of things.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: canon typical violence (fleeting), canon typical language, canon typical angst, rude people, offensive behavior, body shaming, fat shaming, reader gets shoved one (1) time, reader defends herself, brief misogyny, feral joel, joel beats the crap out of someone, joel goes into protective mode, threatening words, worldview of pregnangy being a negative thing, fat shaming, body shaming, reader is canonically mid-size, illusions to smut, adult content, pet names (darling, baby, love), the term slut used affectionately, some mild spice, flirting, they're insufferable your honor. um i think those are all the major ones pls let me know if i need to add more!

REMINDER: this is a sequel series, the previous series can be found here {garnish}

A/N: hi y'all, it's been a whirlwind lately! been trying to figure out the flow of this and i think i was maybe attempting to force this chapter to be more than this and it just wasn't working + made me frustrated. but you know what? not every chapter has to be massively 3k+, it can just be what feels and flows right, so here y'all go. i hope you enjoy these two as much as i do

ao3 link || series masterlist || joel miller masterlist || ko-fi

He's been quiet since leaving the museum, something he had surprised you with a flyer for. He had picked it up in the lobby, had done some research online as he mumbled about some certain paintings, he thought you’d like that were on display, Ellie’s influence strong in his words. His desire to be a good provider and make this trip something to remember. Not that that was too hard, any time spent with Joel was good time, from easy jokes to teasing banter, soft moments as you both reveled in the life you two were leading, the life you two were creating.

Where he had let you guide him from countless exhibits to plentiful ornately framed paintings with a hand clasped around his own. He had seemed engaged enough, eyes alight as you turned to him with wide smiles and small giggles of excitement at the more interesting pieces. It had turned into a little game of 'weirdest little guy' where you each pointed to people and animals in the backgrounds and declared, 'it's you'. He had been the first to start it, by pointing out a woman dressed from head to toe in a tavern maids outfit brandishing a large knife. She had been shouting, her brow heavy and her expression heated.

You had followed his lead by pointing to a rather disgruntled lumberjack in the back of depicting a wintery landscape with a cabin. Though the man impressed in ink had been bald and rather terrified of the approaching bear.

From cats with too human faces, to frogs that looked stunned, to the most bruised or oddly shaded piece of fruit in a bunch or bowl, it had occupied you both throughout the whole building, through everything there was to see. He had brandished a newer, shinier credit card at the gift shop. allowing you the treat of stickers and a coffee mug you had cooed and awed over. But you knew it was the little onesie with colorful peach you had said was him printed on the front.

"To commemorate our first outing as a little unit." You felt so light, so free. Hormones letting you just be yourself at the moment, even if you had to stop to pee quite often. You had said so at the register, the clerk asking after your meaning behind picking it out. Your hands cradling your growing belly as you did so, delighting in the little kicks you had felt stir up as you stood in front of particular pieces. Stirring up at the combined laughter between you and Joel, so much so that you had gotten hushed from a security guard that made it even harder to cut it out. You're picturing the mirth and careful smile on his face even as he held a finger to his mouth in a motion to be quiet, chest rumbling with laughter even as he did so.

But now he was quiet beside you, as he guided the truck into a spot of a rapidly filling parking lot. He's not in a bad mood, per se, but you can sense he's quieted over something in his mind.

"Did- did you enjoy the museum?" You feel silly, like an awkward interloper that first day you had walked in for a first shift at the restaurant. Unaware of how things operated, hesitant to ask where to put your bag or where to get a clean apron from since you hadn't been able to locate yours. Like you had that morning you had woken up to him in your apartment, having slept on the couch after making sure you got home safely. The conversation that had followed, the uncertainty, the almost reproachful way you had asked him what was going on with him, with you, between you both. You feel the same slightly tense and on edge energy around him now as you did back then, when he gave you an impromptu tour of the space and then left you with paperwork to fill out.

You have no clue why perhaps it's the default to being out of town with him. Like there are parts of you he's yet to see and would caste judgement on. Though you know the worst he would do is tease you over something as benign at the way you idle on in the bathroom or fawn over street cats for far too long with a soft, silly coo or the places you tend to pick for coffee being on the extravagant side. 

He thought over his answer, guiding the truck into the parking lot of a coffee house. He had said he would turn a blind eye to whatever decaf drinks you decided to indulge in while out of town. The coffee shop you had seen online garnering your attention and he memorized the drive from the museum.

He’s getting out of the truck, rounding the hood and opening the door as he speaks.

"Not really my cup of tea, but it's yours, darlin'. Do anythin' to spend time with ya and I figured this would light you up like a christmas tree." He's smiling softly at you now, his lips looking perfectly kissable beneath his thick moustache and trimmed facial hair. Face shifting from introspective to present, returning to you and feeding off your nervousness in a way you knew he hoped would settle it.

"I do ramble a lot about stuff from my studies, huh." You can't help the feeling of adoration that floods heat in your face, almost like you've got a schoolgirl crush on the man beside you, despite the ring on your finger and the bump of your belly. His hands are warm on you as they help to steady your movements out of the passenger seat, the tall cab a little daunting and the worry of falling in the forefront of your mind. You were being so cautious, words of failed pregnancies your step mother had cited for the deterioration of your parents relationship.

"Yeah, but I listen to every word even if I don't understand it all." He's brushing those delectable lips against the apple of your cheek. "Listen to ya ramable all day, even if it's about nothin'."

"You're smart too, Joel." Insistent words that are swept away with a brush of his hand over your shoulder. But you can see the way his ears tinge pink at the tops, he's smitten at the idea of you thinking so, even if he doesn't himself.

"Not the same way you are, darlin'. Got math and science smarts, practical. You got the artsy smarts, fun and entertaining. Same as Ellie."

"You and Sarah, me and Ellie. We all balance each other out." You lean up into his space, determined for him to hear the good things you have to say about him. He's a good man, just a little rough around the edges. And he was yours.

"We do, don't we. Perfect little family, all for you." He meets you halfway, pressing his lips to yours and stirring butterflies in your ribcage. "You complete us, sabrosa. Been waitin' for you my entire life."

"I've been searching for you my entire life, I just didn't know it, Mr. Miller." His eyes are hooded as he takes in the sight of you so close, pressed to him and held tight by his arms around your waist, your own around his shoulders.

"Glad to have been found, Mrs. Miller." Another kiss, little whimpers telling him exactly how you feel about the confession, the truth of his words that he had tumbled over in his mind every day you were apart. You were his and you were back in his life where you belonged.

It's a little loud, the establishment crowded around the lunch hour. But it's the comforting scent of roasting coffee and the lingering scent of Joel’s cologne on the front of his shirt as he holds you to his chest with his hands around your ribs. Sighing, you look over the menu wanting for each and every interesting flavor combination. But you know you get one today, that’s what you’d limited yourself too because decaf was only so much better than regular espresso. There was no true way to roast out every last bit of caffeine even if the doctor had also agreed a few indulges throughout the pregnancy wouldn’t cause any harm.

“What’re you gonna get?” Joel’s fingers tap lightly at your stomach, the little kicks still going and endlessly entertaining him. Small taps elicited responses more times than not, something you were sure you would never tire of. The feeling of the small being growing inside of you, already so enamored with Joel softening something deep inside of you.

“I think maybe one of macadamia combination ones. Sounds yummy.”

“You know what else sounds…yummy?” His nose is a distraction as it brushes along the back of your head, almost near your ear as he leans closer to it and rumbles his taunting words.

“Joel Miller, if you do anything that prevents me from enjoying my coffee, I swear-“

“Relax, darlin’.” He nips at the top of your ear, causing you to snort at the tickling sensation. “Not gonna come between you and your coffee. Just lettin’ you know where my mind is at.”

“Slut.” You smirk to yourself as he freezes momentarily, allowing you to step out of his hold and toward the counter. You order the macadamia and white chocolate latte, hot and decaf. When asked if that was all for the order, you turn to find Joel closing the gap of a few feet with a smirk of his own.

“I’ll take a blended mocha chip, medium please.” You catch his eyes as he glances at you out of the corner of his own. “Gonna get you back for that, pretty girl.”

“What?” It’s kinda true.” A tongue is stuck out and his eyes dilate every so slightly as he presses the same shiny black credit card to the reader. Never once breaking the contact.

“Then what do you call someone who nearly had me pulling over because she couldn’t keep her mouth to herself on a four hour drive?” He questions lowly as he steps away from the register, wallet going back into the butt pocket of his pants.

“Your fiancé.” You smile sweetly at him, an eyebrow raised in a silent challenge. His chuckle is a low vibration against your shoulder as he shuffles you toward the pickup end of the counter. He’s filthy, but so are you. There’s no denying it, even in jest. That part of your relationship had gotten off to a rocky start but once it had kicked off, damn if that wasn’t something you two were committed to no matter what. The physical attraction so strong, the desire for each other never waning, it’s what started this in the first place and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’re too right, perfect match.” Lips curled up in matching smile, you wonder if his heart skips beats and his stomach flips just like yours. Later you find out exactly what you to do him, when he grunts it into your ear as he fills you from behind.

It happens when you’re waiting at the end of the counter for pick up, Joel having run off to the restroom.

“Move your fat ass, tryin’ to get up to the drinks.” You’re shoved harshly with an elbow before the words even register. Your balance sways and your hair tousles to cover your face as you try to reach a hand out to catch yourself on the counter top, but your nails don’t gain any purchase. You collapse hard on the floor. Your palms sting as you try to prevent from landing flat, worry taking over as you do your best to avoid any pressure or damage to your middle. The guy is grumbling as he watches, the remnants of his coffee sloshed around the ceramic and splashed onto his crips white dress shirt.

“Sabrosa!”

Before you could even blink, Joel is right there helping you back up to your feet, a comforting hand on your stomach and on your shoulder as he looks you over. His full lips are a thin line, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he grinds his teeth, but you know it isn’t aimed at you. At your small nod and tight-lipped smile, his hands fall from you and your turn with your arm crooked back. The crack of your fist on the guy’s jaw breaks the jovial atmosphere and everything goes silent as he falls hard on his ass. The ceramic shatters and the remnants of his latte fly into the air.

“Fuckin’ bitch!”

“You assault my girl and didn’t expect anything to happen?” Joel demands angrily as he partially shields you with his own body, unsure if the man will retaliate. He’d gladly let you get in a hit, but you know he’d be damned if someone laid a hand on you. You’d seen it firsthand before, more than once. You’re your own person, as you’ve proven time and time again. Something he rather enjoyed about you, something you hoped he would continue to find endearing. Even as your attitude flared sometimes.

“She was in the way, it was barely a little shove!”

“You steamrolled me, asshole!” You step out from behind Joel a little, anger flaring and temper coming to bat. It was bad enough you had nearly fallen completely in on yourself but to then be brushed off and told it was nothing? You weren’t about to take it with a forced, polite smile and a feeling of guilt for not having handled the situation better later on in the evening.

“She’s pregnant, you fuckin’ idiot!” Joel roars, one of his boots coming down unnervingly close to the guy’s hand as he sets it flat to try and get back up. Lips frowning part to argue, but loud footsteps of workers rushing off to grab a manager cut him off. “You could’ve hurt her or my child with your reckless behavior!”

“Joel-“ You try to pull at his forearm, urging him to calm down. The veins showing in his skin and you can’t help the drag of your eyes across the length of them. Your stomach flips, body and mind reacting to the way he’s standing tall in front of you, ready to defend. It’s making your body hum, the way he’s so willing, so quick to protect. His instincts appealing to the most base part of your brain, your own reacting to them in a way that is utterly and completely primal.

“You knocked up the fat chick and you’re upset at me? Man, you’re in need of something stronger than coffee.” He’s trying to get back up, but Joel’s closing in on him.

“You ever talk about a woman that way again and I will end you!” Joel’s shouting as he allows you to pull him back, his chest heaving and his frizzy curls in disarray. His arm is putty in your hands, thick fingers tangling with yours in a comforting move even as his attention is focused on the man still on the ground.

“I think it’s best if you pick yourself up and leave, sir.” A large man in a plain black outfit approached, his hands on his hips. You don’t bother to respond to him, instead tugging Joel with you as you begin to walk toward the door.

“C’mon Joel, let’s just go too. I want to leave.”

“There’s no need for that, you two are welcome to stay.” The guy who you assume is the manager looks up at you as he crouches down to take the still fuming and arguing man. His polite but genuine smile falls as he hoists the man up and begins to walk him to the door. “We don’t tolerate hateful behavior here, you’re banned.”

“This is bullshit!” His shirt gets ruffled, his outfit wrinkling as he’s manhandled out across the floor. You jump as a hand gently brushed your shoulder, causing you to tense your hand around Joel’s and twirl to the left. Your confusion and slight worry eases when you see it was the barista that had taken your order.

“You’re drinks are ready, love. Are you okay?” Her smile is soft, the drinks offered to you. “That was quite a fall, do you need any water or want to sit down to catch your breath?”

You shake your head slowly, not wanting to remain in the café even if things were turning around and the atmosphere had gone back to what it was when you first entered. The music is playing softly again, though you’re sure it had never gone out, never actually cut to silence anywhere except for in your awareness.

Joel only turns to face her once the offensive man is shoved out the door. Your hand leaves Joel’s to reach for the do go cups, the warmth of the freshly made drinks sinking into your palms and calming you after the tense ordeal. The barista nods to Joel, her eyes wide and roving. You feel jealously wake up inside you as she takes his form in, even with you right beside him. The signs of your devotion to each other clear, from the defense he had taken for you to the way he’s surveying the café for any other signs of trouble. She’s holding out a small bag, her face visibly flushed when his fingers graze hers to accept it.

“We’ve also refunded your transaction, sir. And included a few things from the pastry case for the trouble.” Her hands are clasped in front of her now, the apron over her front marred with dried foam from steamed milk and espresso grounds. She’s pretty, she’s skinny. You can’t help the insecurity that bubbles up, she’s young and her eyes contain the same lust for life you had when you first moved away from home. You aren’t sure if you’re jealous of her obvious attraction to your fiancé or the attraction to life she exudes. She doesn’t seem to carry any mental burdens, like you had from glancing at what lies behind her eyes. But then again, you hadn’t appeared to either while clocked in and focused on working.

“That’s mighty kind of ya, many thanks.” His left arm curls around your waist, his lips brushing your temple once again. The girl nods before turning on her heel and retreated back behind the counter. “Do you want to stay, darlin’? You were so excited to sit in and look at all the photographs on the wall.”

“I…I would like to go, please.” You look up at him, catching his eye feeling off kilter. Social battery completely drained and yearning for the privacy of your lush hotel room and a bath.

“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel. We can take it easy until our evening reservations. How about I run us a nice, hot bubble bath, hmm?” His hand curls and guides you to stand directly in front of him, eyes searching your face. “We can soak until we’re all pruned up and I’ll even run it a little hotter for your comfort. Sound good?”

“I love you.” You surge up and press your lips to his cheek. His smile when you pull back grips around your heart and your stomach flips again, butterflies bursting to life. You do, you love him with everything you are, with everything you transformed into. His love in return the only thing that made you feel like you never had before. He was right, he had been waiting for you while you wandered and figured out what it was you wanted. You weren’t sure you had ever even explicitly voiced it or even discovered what it was beyond getting your credentials and teaching. But he had helped you to discover that what you wanted was a life with him. A simple, nurturing and real relationship with someone who saw you for exactly who you were.

You wanted to make sure he knew that as you connected your lips with his smiling ones.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes, hmm? Somethin’ tells me you got some thoughts swirling around in that pretty head of yours.” He whispers against them, breath hot and teeth teasing your bottom one for the barest of seconds, the action sending a shiver down your spine. All you can do is nod as he pivots and leads you back to the truck.

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[yellow-py]

hello! you've probably been asked these before, but i'm here to ask how long it typically takes for you to make animatics, if you have any tips, preferred methods, and what you use? i saw your funger animatic and it looks absolutely gorgeous! i love all the detail that's jam-packed into the art and story telling, so i'm curious about your animatic process.

sorry if this is a lot! no need to answer if you don't want to. i love your stuff and i wish you well!

Hi! I don't mind answering some questions!

First things first, I'm not a professional storyboards artist. I've done a few things for some youtube channels. I wouldn't call myself an expert. This is to say that my method of doing things might not the best for people who actually work in the industry. 

Most of the time I work in Storyboard pro 7. But honestly, any editing software works as long as it can handle pictures and audio. For the disco elysium animatic I only used  clip studio paint and some random editing program called Camtasia. It worked alright but it takes a bit longer to finish stuff since storyboard pro is more streamlined. My go-to method right not is to draw the backgrounds in clip studio and the characters and editing in storyboard pro. That way, I get the best of both worlds. 

The funger animatic took about 2 and a half weeks to make. It usually takes longer, but the song wasn't that long so that saved me a lot of time. But as another example, my disco elysium animatic took +3 months. So it really depends. I did work longer on each frame for that one tho, so idk. On average, it takes me about 2 months. But that number keeps going up since my expectations of myself keep rising. 

Anyhow! I'll be bringing up my fear and hunger animatic as an example of my process. 

My animatics usually start out having the ugliest thumbnails known to man. It does let me experiment with framing and timing, which is absolutely crucial. I do not recommend that people start refining frames without having planned out things beforehand.

After that, I just save every thumbnail and import it to storyboard pro. I just scale it up to the current canvas size. Then I just line up every frame with the audio. It is a little bit tedious but you gotta do what you gotta do. 

After that, I begin to draw the backgrounds in clip studio. I do the same thing as in storyboard pro and just size the thumbnail up. And then I just sketch over that! Technically, I could have drawn the backgrounds in storyboard pro. But their brushes are pretty uggo so I prefer to not do that :)

As dumb as it might sound, it kind of stresses me out when my storyboards aren't "pretty". Which is pretty stupid since storyboards are literally made only to be a guide for what an animation should be. so in actuality, it's alright if they're kinda crusty. But since I never intend to animate my animatics I find it nice to spend more time on each frame. Which is sorta stupid because I'm shooting myself in the foot by working so long on every frame...

Either way, after that, I import the new backgrounds into storyboard pro and begin to draw the characters. Technically I could draw them in clip studio as well. But its faster to draw them in story board pro and it also allows me to do some semi-animated things and work faster. So, after a lot of experimenting, clip studio backgrounds and storyboard pro characters is the way to go for me! 

And just to note. This animatic might have only taken about 2 and a half weeks. Which sounds pretty good. But when it comes to animatics I can become a real workaholic if im inspired enough. So every day after school I would sit non stop working on this from the second I got home to when it was time to sleep. As well as every second of the weekend after I was done with my chores. So that is to say I work pretty fast and persistently, which i know is not healthy or realistic. So take my timing with a grain of salt. 

But that's kinda my process. I just draw backgrounds and draw characters until the thing is done. 

If I had to give any advice, I would say it's important to have fun when making animatics as a hobby. When I make an animatic, it's because I personally want to see that animatic, and if other people like it, that is a plus! If you're excited about an idea, it'll be a lot easier to add fun details and soul into it. 

But yeah that's it. I can't really come up with anything else to say. I hope I gave some good insight!

[thetxtdevil]

The Vampire Hunter pt. 1

Vampire Kai x Hunter Reader

summary: In a supernatural world, you find your city facing troubles with a particular vampire who is threatening many humans lives, luckily you're a hunter for the supernatural and you intend to capture the bloodsucker.

content: mentions of blood, vampires and other supernatural beings, soobin makes an appearance

word count: 1.5k

pt. 1 -> pt. 2 -> pt. 3

in a world of humans and the supernatural,

strange things become more normal as time goes on. ghosts roam the shelves of public libraries, werewolves guide other creatures and humans through woodsy trails, all lives became less segregated. while there is the police force patrolling the safety of humans, there are supernatural hunters keeping the balance of the supernatural race and human race. both sides find this beneficial as it kept humans from any harm of stronger beasts and creatures away from retaliating humans.

you were one of the said supernatural hunters, a good one at that. so to your dismay when you attend the city's hunter meeting you find out that there was a feral vampire in the area. the lead hunter shows a board of a map of the city showing where this vampire has been and pictures of victims the bloodsucker has close to having killed. you sit there squinting at the map in focus.

"and why haven't we captured this vampire yet?" you interrupt the speech.

the lead stops mid-sentence trying to find the words. "ah well, y/n you see they're too hard to track, we don't know their personal information, and no clan has claimed them"

you lean back at your chair nodding. you understand the hardships of a vampire without a clan, even though they are independent creatures they tend to do well with a support group.

"i'll take the assignment."

"y/n, many hunters have tried but as you can see some of them came back dangerously wounded"

you look at the board recognizing some faces, "really, i wonder why you didn't put me on this assignment in the first place."

you snatch the folder about the wild vampire out of the lead's hands. the leader roll his eyes at your cockiness.

"be careful y/n"

✥✥✥

it was a brisk night in the city, gusts of wind drifted litter from the ground into the air, people hugging themselves to keep warm. you walk the sidewalk that framed the many tall buildings of the city. citizens passing you minding their businesses not noticing your attired covered with classic vampire weapons and in your hand a heavy trash bag. you come upon an alleyway that seemed like a perfect place to satisfy the hunger of a blood-lust vampire. the first steps in the alley glowed golden hues from the street lights, but the further you went in it was dark radiating blue from the night sky.

when studying the vampire's whereabouts you concluded that this creature did not have a certain pattern other than drinking secretly in alleyways like this one. reaching in your pocket for gloves putting them on to open the black trash bag that held pig hearts. pig hearts were not only similar to size and appearance but the blood was also vaguely similar. one by one you laid the muscles zigzag until it reached the end of the lane. here you stood with a wooden stake in you hand pointing straight out to stab any visitors that come your way.

hours passing by you shift in your spot, becoming uncomfortable from standing in one position for a long time. you knew this could be an all nighter, but the cool weather and silence made you ache. then you hear pigeons from the street all at once taking flight, you knew someone was coming. you blink and open your eyes to see a silhouette of a tall man at the end of the alley. your grip on the stake was tight.

the man walks into the back alley investigating its current state. bending down to pick up one of the pig hearts taking a closer look. the man's eyes widen after smelling the muscle concluding that this is what he was smelling a few blocks back. he opens his mouth to snack on the bloody meat.

a gust of wind brushes against your skin, the air moving towards the preoccupied vampire. the creature's red eyes glows when he catches the scent of you. he looks over your way to see your shadowed figure standing at the end of the alley. you felt a flash of wind on your face but it wasn't the air it was the vampire himself now barely an inch from you.

the vampire hovers over you breathing heavy, looking down at you with his bright crimson eyes. his vision is blurry from your intoxicating scent, so blurry that he doesn't notice that he got too close to your stake. his chest impelled and his senses overloaded, you had enough strength to grab his arm to twist him around so now his back is towards your chest and fangs away from you. the pain engulfs the vampire which sends his in a downward spiral loosing conciseness.

✥✥✥

in your cabin, you sit on your reading chair taking sips of your freshly made coffee. the rising sun seeps through the tall windows of the room making the space feel warm. you smile to yourself as you watch the news casting on your living room tv. the news anchor claims that the spontaneous vampire attacks that have been happening in the city has been subsided.

as soon as you get comfortable in your chair covering your body with a blanket and taking a big gulp of your coffee, you hear distinct noises. you sigh knowing your cozy morning will have to come to an end. you scramble out of your chair to walk to the noises of groans and chains clashing together. opening the door of what would be a guest room but now your supernatural jail.

the vampire was sitting up on the bed which was set in the middle of the room. handcuffed to make sure the reckless vampire doesn't use his powers for his sake. the man was wearing baggy clothes covering his lean physique only his top is torn from your chest stab. thanks to his immortal abilities the wound is now gone. he was slumped over, long dark brown hair hiding his face, his nose was the only facial feature you could see of his. from your experience you could tell this was a newly turned vampire as he had a modern look to him and no courtesy of his blood hunt.

"why... how am i here?" his raspy voice fills the room

"you know why and i brought you here"

the man clenches his jaw, tugging hard at the silver chains.

"i have my ways to get you the way you are now" you smirk to yourself, only you know the struggle you had dragging the tall stature out of that alley all the way to your cabin in the outskirts of the city. "listen, you will now live with me until you get your act together, i don't want to see anymore victims falling prey to you"

"but,,, it tastes so good" he dramatically lies down on the plush bed.

you refrain from chuckling at the pathetic sight before you. your suspicions of the man being a new vampire were being confirmed as a old vampires would instantly insert their dominance towards you. although his weak front was shown, you were not all too comfortable with the vampire so you keep your distance and leave him to sulk.

walking out of the groggy room that held the vampire. you close the door to the room and stood there leaning your forehead on the wood. this bloodsucker needed training and fast because you don't know how long those chains are going to last. reaching for your phone to look through your contacts many were mystical friends and it was time to call your good ol' vampire friend. you walk back to your blanketed reading chair with little knowledge that the captured man was watching intently to your shadowed footsteps from the crack of the closed door. i'll get a taste of that sweetness someday.

holding the phone up to your ear while you play with the loose strings of your blanket, a few rings went by until you hear a familiar voice, "y/n long time no see... i assume you caught that vampire"

"yeah no help from you, soobin" you roll your eyes, even though you're friends, vampires still have their antics. the supernatural lived equally with humans they still preferred to do what they did before modern days. that being said you weren't surprised that soobin, a well developed vampire, wouldn’t fret when there was a vampire going around having the time of their eternal life.

"since i have the baby vampire in custody could you help train him?"

"what do i get out of it?"

"hmm, you can add another vampire to your clan"

soobin hums through the phone, noticing the hesitation you let out an audible sigh.

"fine, i'll try to find a way to have a whole blood bank truck for you to have for a whole night"

"sounds good, but you know blood taste much better straight out of a human..."

"do you know who you're talking to?"

"yeah okay..." soobin sighs

just like that you two begin planning the training for the little bat. hoping you and the new vampire will someday become good friends.

✤✣✤ -> pt. 2

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

[undertakersimps]

Dilf! CEO! Toji x Secretary!reader

In which Toji decides to play with his new secretary.

Not proof read and kinda rushed at the end. But here… some smut for you thirsty bitches

MINORS DNI

The sun peeked through your door as you got ready to leave. A new city, a new job, and most importantly a fresh start for you. As you got in the car memories of your family, your friends, and your ex-husband flooded into your mind. The divorce was ugly. Your friends were his friends, and you felt so alone after. Maybe finally you would be able to put everything behind you.

As you entered the doors of your new job, a nice man greeted you and brought you to what would be your new office for the foreseeable future. Your office was surrounded by glass walls on all sides except the one that led into your boss's office. A placard next to the door read Toji Fushiguro.

You'd heard of him. Who hadn't? He was a tall dark handsome bachelor. Every girl and even the guys thought he was hot. Too bad he’s married with a kid.

You logged into your computer and started working on simple filing work for stacks of paper on your desk. However it didn’t take long before you were noticed by some of your co-workers. A young man strides into your office, and before a word could be spoken, he immediately starts flirting with you, using cheap tactics and gross humor. You weren’t the type to blow people off so you politely smiled and continued working while he spoke.

Lucky for you moments later, the door to your boss’s office swings open and Mr. Fushiguro himself walks out.

“You out. New secretary, my office. Now.”

You nervously got up and walked towards his office as he retreated into the dimly lit room. It was a simple but large office. There was a desk, a couch, and a few lamps. It wasn’t decorated, the only thing in the room was a small framed picture of a young boy on his desk.

“Sweetheart, you don’t seem like the type to be in an office job.”

The new nickname made your thighs clench. The dim lighting perfectly outlined his muscles and beautiful tones. You know it shouldn’t, he’s married for god's sake but it makes your panties dampen.

“Already dumbed out? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Huh. Oh sorry, I got lost in thought I guess.”

Toji smirked. “Thinking about what?”

You swallowed thickly. He couldn’t know what you were thinking, right? You quickly made up a thought.

“Thinking about the responsibilities I’m going to have here.”

Toji's composure regained. He seemed to go stone cold again. You couldn’t tell if he believed you or not. But he seemed to drop the topic and start explaining what specifically your job entailed.

He rounded the desk to give you a better look at some paper files he wanted you to input. Before you knew it, his arm was wrapped around your waist and his face was an inch from yours.

“Another responsibility is giving me some… stress relief when I need it.”

You could feel his soft breath on your skin as his lips ghosted your neck. He was slow giving you a chance to push him off but when you didn’t he snaked his thigh up to your crotch and pushed against it. You couldn’t help but whine.

“What’s that princess? Use your words.”

You were starting to get desperate. It’d been forever since you’d been fucked, since long before the divorce. And even then your ex-husband never seemed to satisfy your needs.

“Pleeease.”

Toji tisked at you. Removing his leg, he guided you back around the desk and sat on his chair.

“Strip. Let me see you.”

Uncertain of your movements you slowly start taking off your clothes, starting with your blouse, then your skirt, then your bra and panties. You stood there for a minute under his unreadable eyes, which were scanning up and down your body.

Finally, he pulls his hard cock out of his pants. And starts to slowly stroke it.

“Come sit your pretty pussy on my cock.”

You walk over to him and lower yourself down. It was a stretch. Toji must’ve been twice the size of the last person to fuck you. But it felt so good. You could hear Toji’s quiet moans in your ear as you finally bottom out.

“It’s so tight. Relax.”

After a minute of sitting there you started to get impatient. He started working again, typing at his computer. That’s when an idea popped in your head.

Carefully, you positioned your arms on the rests and tried to lift yourself up. But Toji saw it coming and grabbed your hips and held you there.

“Girls who can’t use their words can’t cum.”

Your eyes widened in shock. He couldn’t be serious. How long would you be like this, wanting for pleasure.

“Please. I'll do anything…”

“As much as I admire your persistence, you are going to stay just like this. On my cock not moving till I decide when you go home.”

And Toji kept his word. The hours past by slowly and painfully. But no matter how much begging you did he didn’t let up. Eventually, you fell asleep on his shoulder.

You woke up on the couch, fully dressed as far as you could tell. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep or how long you’d been there but your work day was over.

You got up and opened the door to his office walking into yours. At your desk was Toji with a giant grin on his face.

“Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes Mr. Fushiguro. I think I have.”

Suddenly you felt something wet go down your thighs as Toji stood up, panties in hand. Your eyes widened, he took them and came inside.

“I’d hurry home, wouldn’t want anyone to see that dripping down. They might start getting ideas.”

“Maybe next time, fill me up some more? Let them get ideas.”

“Come straight to my office tomorrow. No detours. Maybe I’ll let you cum.”

[tibbardraws]

~Picture-Perfect Crochet Earring Holder~

I am very excited to present this as the fruits of my first foray into pattern publishing!

This pattern includes a gauge and guide on sizing and will work for any rectangular picture frame.

Feel free to check out more yarn-y things from me on my Ravelry or LoveCrafts profiles!

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 5 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: I give you this for being so patient with me when it comes to all the links <;3.

Warnings: Dom Steddie and sub reader and all that that implies ( I regret nothing!) Degrading, spanking with a belt, overstimulation. Eddie briefly talks about his family and his mom leaving. I think that's it.

Word Count: 3453

The boys left a little while after you called your parents to go get your car and grab some much needed essentials. It felt odd being in someone else’s room by yourself especially Eddie’s so you couldn’t help taking a deeper look around. 

You grinned at some photos you found by his bed with him and some of the other kids at school wearing the Hellfire t-shirt you saw on him a couple of times. Another had three of the same boys from Hellfire including Eddie holding instruments in their hands. “Corroded Coffin-1983” was scrawled across the bottom. The next photo made you pause as you really took a look at the people within the frame. 

It was a bright sunny day in the background but everyone in the image looked uncomfortable. “Munson Family Gathering- Mom, Dad, Me, and Uncle Wayne- 1975”. Eddie’s mother was stiff as his father wrapped his arm behind her back to bring her closer. The boy himself glared forward with his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned closer to Wayne than his parents. He appeared angry but his eyes seemed so sad; it broke your heart. His uncle seemed much softer than the other Munson’s in the photo, displaying a soft smile with his hand on Eddie’s shoulder. 

You haphazardly placed the photos back down as you continued to look around. There were notebooks everywhere, some had notes for school and others had lyrics scribbled through them. Browsing through his cassette tapes, you smiled at his collection. Placing his headphones over your head, you pressed play on his stereo and “Shame on the Night” by Dio blared through. Your smile grew as your fingers reached up to gently run over his guitar that hung on his mirror. 

“Fuck me!” You jump when you notice Eddie’s reflection. “You scared me.”

“I can imagine. Naughty girl, going through my stuff.” He places the bags he had in his hands on his bed as he saunters towards you. 

“I was listening to your music.”

He gently removed the headphones from around your neck and pulled out their cord allowing the music to play through his room. “You like Dio?”

“Yeah. I’ve never seen them in concert though…or anyone really. I’d like to.” 

Eddie nods as he takes your hand and guides you towards the mattress, reaching into the plastic bag, and handing you a Styrofoam plate full of food. 

“I guessed. I’m not sure what you like.”

You beam at him when you open the container to find Chinese food from a restaurant you enjoy in town. “Oh, I love this! Thank you. Should, um, should we wait for Steve?”

“You can but I’m starving. Pretty boy takes forever to complete any task.” As you both begin to eat, he notices your eyes fleeting to him every now and then before looking back down at your lap. “Got something on your mind, sweetheart? Maybe something you found while exploring.”

Placing your meal to the side, you rise to your feet, grabbing the picture of his family and placing it in front of him on the bed. His jaw tightens as he looks at the image before glancing at you. 

“Yeah…that’s my family.”

“May I ask, where they are?”

“Well, I am right here.”, he chuckles sarcastically. “And this is Wayne’s trailer but he’s at work. He works overnights.”

“So, you’re alone a lot to? Like Steve…” Eddie cracks open the can of beer by his side, chugging half of it before placing it back down on the ground. “Where…where’s your mom?”

“Good question. When you find that out maybe you can let me know, hm?” You could feel the agitation radiating off his frame. A sudden knock on the door startled you but not him. “God damn it, Steve, IT’S OPEN!”

“Geez, why are you fucking grumpy all of the sudden?”, Steve whined as he strode in and climbed into the bed. “Is one of these for me?”

“Uh, no Harrington. I got Y/N and I a meal individually and then just got one more for kicks.”

The man’s eyes scanned over his friend with concern. “Did I miss something?”

Eddie exhaled frustratingly as he picked at his plate.

“I’m sorry…”

“You’re always fucking sorry. If you’re so sorry than stop pushing and stop fucking up.”

“Fucking up?”, you growled. “How did I fuck up?!”

Both their eyes met yours with anger but you were more than prepared. With everything that happened with Carol and Tommy and just being confused about this whole situation between the three of you in general, you were ready to fight. 

“Are we still in ‘Vanilla’ or does little girl feel ready to play again?”, Eddie asked with an edge to his tone that had you swallow nervously.

“I’m ready. I haven’t done anything wrong to either of you.”

“You threw a basketball at our heads during your practice.”, Steve chimes in as he starts counting on his fingers. “You insulted me, invited yourself to my house, and then went through my dad’s office.”

“Ah, so nosey isn’t new for you. She just poked around my room while we were gone.”

“Not to mention that you fucking give us attitude all the time and talk back constantly. Makes me miss the meek version of you.”

“Oh, so what do you both want? Just a quiet little mouse who doesn’t challenge you at all?!” You voice raised as you got more irritated. 

“We want you to submit and I was under the impression that’s what you wanted to. Submissive girls aren’t fucking brats.” Eddie chugged back the last of his beer before throwing the can across the room. 

“Well, that sounds boring.”, you pout as you fold your arms over your chest. 

The metalhead cackles as he glances at Steve who smiles at him as he shrugs. “Harrington, would you mind clearing the bed for me?” The man nods, rising to accomplish his friends request while Eddie reaches for something in the corner of his room. 

“Ever use these, sweetheart?” When he flashes you a pair of metal handcuffs, you shake your head no. “WORDS!”, he chuckles as you jump. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“N-no. I haven’t.”

Eddie sighed turning towards Steve. “I thought you said she was starting to answer properly.”

“She was, at least with me.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m too boring.” This time you sighed, rolling your eyes. Ringed fingers abruptly gripped your cheeks, turning you to look at him. “Roll your eyes like that again and I’m going to spank you with my belt. I don’t care what kind of fucking day you’ve had. Do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, Eddie. I understand.”

He pushes your head back as he releases his hold on you. “Now, have you ever used these?”

“No, Eddie. I’ve never used handcuffs.”

“Hm. That’s shame. Let’s see if these fit around your wrists here. Hold yours out for me.”

You do as he asks, wincing when he tries to click one of them closed. “Ow. It’s too tight.”

Your eyes scan his face as a glimmer of concern flashes through his features as he removes them before tossing them on the floor close to where they had been hanging. His thumbs rub against the imprinted skin and in an equally tender action you lean your head on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, Eddie.”

“Baby, out of all the things you should be apologizing for, your body isn’t one of them. I’ll just have to find some bigger, more comfortable ones. Steven! Will you be my handcuffs for the time being?”

“My pleasure.”

“Stand, please.” You rise to your feet and Eddie hastily removes the rest of your clothes till you’re naked before him. His fingers trace along some light bruising on the inside of your thigh; looking up at you quizzically. 

“Steve.”, you smile as you point to another set of marks near your waist. “You. You both hold me tightly when you fuck me. Even if I’m not…struggling. It’s okay though… I don’t mind.”

“So fucking fascinating. I swear.”, Steve mused as he climbed onto the mattress behind you. 

Eddie gestured with his chin for you to lay down as well and as soon as you complied, the other boy reached for your wrists, holding them both above your head with his hand. The metalhead removed his shirt and placed himself on the bed between your legs. 

A tiny moan left your lips as he ran his tongue through your folds, holding you open with his fingers. “Such a beautiful pussy, Y/N.”

As his lips wrapped around your clit, you tried to bring your hands down to play his hair but Steve’s grip on you tightened. “Please…”, you beg. “I…I want to touch him.”

His only response was to shake his head as his eyes intently watched your face. You whined; your head falling back against the pillow as you squirmed under both their holds. Eddie’s tongue flicked rapidly against your nub, his face pressing deeper into you as if he was a man on a mission.

Your back lifted off the bed as you tumbled over the edge. When his head didn’t move, you didn’t think anything of it. Eddie had done this before; licking you continuously until you came again. The panic didn’t set in until after your third orgasm on his tongue as he remained between your legs. 

“Oh, he can stay down there for hours…”

“E-E-Eddie…please…”, you stuttered. The man replaced his tongue with two of his fingers as he thrust them inside of your dripping sex. 

“Yeah, princess? Please, what?” You couldn’t respond, feeling yourself hurtling quickly towards another climax. “I mean, from what I’m hearing it sounds like you’re enjoying yourself. Which is good! Definitely don’t want to be boring.”

Your eyes met his mischievous ones as your legs shook and you came again. 

“Do you want a turn, Harrington? Probably a good idea to switch it up so none of us get to bored.”

Your eyes rolled as you growled in frustration. Eddie was on you so fast that you squeaked in surprise when his fingers wrapped around your throat and he lowered his face till his nose was touching yours. 

“What did I say? What did I say would happen if you rolled your eyes like that again?!” He glanced at Steve. “Do you want to punish her?”

“I don’t mind. Can I borrow your belt?” You watch him lean back on his knees above you, unbuckle his belt, and slide it off in one go around his forearm. Eddie grins cheekily down at you as a pleasure filled sigh escaped you at the sight. 

In one fluid motion he flipped you onto your belly and grabbed your wrists to hold them once again above your head. Silence filled the room as you waited. They had been rough with you and spanked you in the past but this was new. Nerves filled your stomach as you anticipated the pain that may follow. 

When the first smack of leather hit your skin, you cried out; the abrupt sting taking your breath away. Eddie’s giggle hit your ears. 

“You doing okay, Steve? You look like you’re about to cum in your pants. Well, my pants.”

“F-fuck, Munson. Her body is like my fucking kryptonite.” They watch you as the belt comes down on your ass again. “Just so fucking gorgeous.”

“Yeah…to bad her mouth and attitude are trash.” His head turns at the sound of your tiny sniffles. “Aw, am I hurting your feelings?”, Eddie asked mockingly. 

“I-I-I’m not trash.”

“Did I say that?” You flinched as Steve hit you again. “No. I said your attitude and mouth are garbage. Talking back, rolling your eyes, going through our things. Why? Why are you acting like that?”

“I want…to…know more.”

*SMACK*

“I d-d-don’t know…you.” Eddie’s eyes meet yours as the belt comes down one final time and a mix of a scream and a moan emits from your throat. The belt clanks to the floor as the bed dips behind and you feel Steve’s lips trace along the red marks on your ass. 

You murmur something into the pillow that the metalhead can’t make out. His fingers push your hair out of your face as the other boy climbs up the length of your body, laying his chest against your back. 

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart. I need to be able to hear you clearly.”

“I said…why…why me?”

Steve reaches between your bodies, opening your legs slightly before sliding his throbbing cock into your entrance. The mixture of the pain on your behind, the many orgasms Eddie gave you, and the man’s sheer size had your eyes rolling to the back of your skull in a way they allowed. 

“Yes, fuck, baby. Such a good girl.”

“Why you what?”, Eddie asked.

“Steve, you’re so…deep. Mmm-fuck.”

“Answer me, Y/N.”

“Why…did…did you choose…me?” 

Steve nibbled and sucked on the side of your shoulder that Carol hadn’t hurt as he thrust into you harder. “Why wouldn’t we? You—mmm— I don’t…I can’t explain it. Ed?”

Your eyes found his and were surprised by the darkness within them. “I thought you wanted to be used, Y/N? You said you had never been fucked properly, we gave you that. We give you what you fucking ask for.”

Your vision is blinded by white as you cum hard, shaking underneath their hold on you. Steve grunts as your pussy clings to him, chasing his own high until you feel him warm your insides. 

He groans as he rolls off you and Eddie reaches over to bring you closer to him, flipping you onto your back. 

“Eddie?”, you whine as you turn on to your side to face him. A little whine of his own dripped from his lips when your forehead fell on his as your hand rested on his hips and slid slowly over his skin. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have gone through your things or Steve’s. You said I fascinated you both. I feel the same.”

Your lips capture his as you lift your leg over his waist. The boy doesn’t miss a beat, his palm gliding to the back of your thigh to raise it higher as he scoots closer to you. 

“I know I’m yours. I just want to know more about the people I belong to.”

Eddie’s mouth fell open in a silent moan as his cock entered your sex. His thrusts were slow at first, dragging his length along your tight walls as your pussy stretched around him. 

“Princess, this is why we pursued you. You’re so fucking sweet but—fuck—have this other side that’s feisty. I knew it the first time I saw you; Steve and I both. We knew—mmm—we had to have you.”

You whimpered at his words as he pumped into you faster, hitting every sensitive spot inside you. 

“And now we do, baby. You and your pussy belong to us. Say it, Y/N.”

“I belong to you.”, you responded in strained words. 

His palm came down on your ass, reigniting the stinging pain as you groaned. “You’re not listening, stupid girl. Say it correctly!”

“Fuck, Eddie! Me and my pussy belong—mmm—belong to you.”

“Me and who?”

“You and Steve.”

“That’s right.” Eddie’s palm floated to the back of your head, his other pressing into your lower back as he held you tightly to him, pounding into you roughly. “That’s right, Y/N. Good girl. This tight cunt is ours and only we can make you feel this fucking good. Fuck, baby. Cum for me.”

Tears streaked your cheeks as you screamed into his shoulder, tumbling over the ledge. With a few more sloppy hard thrusts, he followed after you, aggressively pumping his spend deeper into you. 

His breath warmed your shoulder as he panted into your skin, hands still clinging tightly to you. 

“Harrington, my shower…at most only fits two. Since I used yours last…last time…”

Steve nodded as his fingers reached for you, prying you from Eddie’s hold. With heavy eyes, you watched as he got the shower ready and held out his hand to guide you in. The metalhead was right, his shower was relatively small and felt even tinier as the curves of your body took up a good amount of space. The man in front of you saw the trepidation as your guilty eyes looked around wondering if he had enough room for himself. 

“Honey, stop thinking.” Steve placed his palms on either side of your head, tilting it towards his lips. “You’re fine. I’m fine. To be fair, I don’t know how Eddie fucking fits in here let alone his uncle. Have you seen Wayne?”

You smile, shaking your head as his eyes widen and he stretches out his arms. “He’s a tall guy. Probably has to sit to get his entire body.”

He grins as you laugh, reaching behind you to grab the soap and begins the task before him. You wince slightly when his hand grazes the fresh welts forming on your behind and on impulse your arms shoot out to wrap around his waist like a child needing comfort after they fall. 

“It’s okay, baby. You’re ok.”, he soothed. “Did, um… was that okay? I know you went through a lot today so…I tried not to hit you too hard. If you didn’t like it, I can tell Eddie.”

“I liked it. Is that weird?”

“No, pretty girl. It’s not weird. Kinky but…” Your body shakes against him as you laugh and he smiles as he leans down to kiss your lips. 

After cleaning you and drying you off, he guides you back to the bedroom where Eddie had laid out the first aid supplies Steve had bought after getting your car. You flinched as he began utilizing the antiseptic on your shoulder. 

“Hey, your food got a little cold so I heated it up.” The metalhead places your plate on the bedside table with a fresh glass of water before coming to sit beside you as Steve opens the bandages and begins covering the wound. 

Eddie glances at the floor, bending down to grab the picture of his family. He flashed you a slanted smile as he held it up for emphasis. 

“My mom left a little while after this photo was taken. My dad scoured the entire town looking for her but nothing came up. A week after, my uncle got a letter from her saying she needed to get out of the house and away from my father. Said that she would send word when she was ready to come get me.” You tenderly reach out to move his hair out of the way so you can see his face. “I guess she’s still not ready.”

“Eddie, baby, I’m so sorry.” He shrugs before you are suddenly blind sided by darkness. “Ah! What the hell?”

You grin as you feel fingers tug at the fabric over your head, pulling the shirt Steve threw on you further down your frame. “Up, please.” His eyes focus on your legs as he holds out a pair of boxers for you to step into. 

“I thought you preferred me naked?”

Eddie smiles as he leans over you to grab your plate before handing it to you. “We do but not right now. You need to be comfortable while you finish eating. Plus… you’re kinda sexy like this to.”

“Just kinda?”, you ask him sarcastically.

His smile grows as he leans over to capture your lips with his own before playfully pushing at your face with his hand. 

“Now, I was thinking we could watch a movie tonight. I don’t have Carrie but I do have…” He bends down looking over his collection before pulling out a VHS of Evil Dead.

“I don’t know what that is.” Steve sits in bed beside you slurping at the contents in front of him. 

The metalhead head raises his eyebrows inquisitively in your direction. “I know what it is. I’ve just never seen it. I heard it was really gross.”

“Yeah, it is.” He chuckles with giddy excitement you’ve rarely gotten to see from him as he pops the film into the VCR and places himself on the floor in front of you where one of your legs was dangling off the side. 

Eddie’s arm wraps around your calf, lifting it so it’s more over his shoulder as his fingers caress your skin. 

“Munson, do we have to watch something gross while we eat?”, Steve whines.

“Yes, Harrington. We do.”

Your laugh brightens the room as Eddie reaches for his remote and presses play. 

##############

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @local-stoner-bitch

@katethetank @danandphilequalsmemes @luna-munson83

@sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @bexreastoomuch @chelebelletx

@shayeddie @emmalee-01 @anaibis @wroteclassicaly

@fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

[triplesilverstar]

Stargazing

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Pre-Canon, internal musing, implied smut

Word count: 2K

A/N: A night of watching the stars out in the dunes. With Vash reflecting on the two things he wants most in the world.

You lift your hand to the sky, counting the stars between your fingers while the pair of hands on your waist shift and you feel the vibrations of the behind you as they chuckle. “What are you doing?” 

“Counting stars.” Laughing as you look up at the mass of fixed lights in the sky. 

“I very much remember someone once talking about stars while drunk in a rather romantic fashion.” Whispered against your ear before tugging you more against his chest with the blanket wrapped around both of you. 

“Well I’ve only been drinking once, so I know which night you mean. I talked about the stars?” You let out a small airy breath at the question as you keep your eyes out into the distance watching the inky blackness and the bright points of light. 

“You did. Something about how a lot of them were burned out but we still had their memories.” The blanket slips a bit down around your bodies as Vash adjusts, leaning more against you before raising his hand and extending it out.

A giggle bubbles up from your throat, his hand sliding to line up with yours and you’re reminded just how much larger he is with his fingertips extending well past your own. “You’re cutting down my viewing space.” A tease since you can still see the stars through the translucent metal of his hand as some of the chill starts to seep into your palm.

“It’s a tragedy but I want to hold your hand.” A short shiver racks your frame from his moist breath washing against your ear. “Is it strange that I like seeing the size difference?”

“No. I was just thinking about it too.” You admit, your voice dropping as if sharing secrets with the blond that you aren’t sure you ever want to be without. “It’s funny how those larger hands of yours make me feel safe.” 

“Good, because I’m finding it harder to think about being without you.” Twisting his wrist and intertwining his fingers with yours, gently guiding your arm back closer to your body but he doesn’t pull it back within the confines of the blanket. Instead lifting it to kiss your knuckles, every single one. “You help me feel lighter.” 

“I guess it’s my turn to say good.” As he tried to tuck your joined hands back inside the blanket you stop him, taking the time to kiss the metal wrist and the delicate balls that make up the joints of his thumb so his arm isn’t held at an uncomfortable angle. “You can’t keep carrying the weight of the world Vash, so if being with you helps then I plan to never leave your side.”

Lowering his arm inside the blanket you let out another shiver from the chill night air but refuse to let go of his hand when he tries to pull it away. “You’re chilly.” You don’t care that some of your warmth is seeping into the metal that reminds you more of crystal with how it’s translucent. 

“Don’t care.” Wiggling your body so you’re more settled against him sitting in the sand. “I know you’ll warm me up, silly man.” A choked noise from the man and you snicker. “Not like that.” Letting your head fall back so you’re looking at the bottom of his chin that had moments before been resting in your hair. “Even right now you warm me up, encased in those strong arms and held close. I know no matter how cold I might get, by your side, I’ll warm up in no time.”

A quirk of his lips and you see the flex of his facial muscles, he doesn’t need to look down for you to picture the way his eyes are probably shining behind the rims of his sunglasses. It doesn’t matter that it’s nighttime, he wears them whenever the two of you aren’t secured inside a building. The orange shades help to hide his secret even now that those blue orbs give away far too easily, or at least they do once you know what to look for. “I guess that means I can’t just walk away from the scariest bounty hunter on Noman’s land now then can I?” A joke and you can hear the amusement beneath his fake wounded pride. 

“You could try, but I’d get you in my scope and follow you to the end of the world.” Lifting your other hand to touch the side of his face and brushing downwards until your fingers brush along his pulse, the steady beat growing quicker. “I love you Vash the Stampede, and everything that comes with that.” A heavy declaration, but you know deep down you’d make it again and again. 

Tilting his head he kisses your palm before letting out a long sigh. “I love you too my dangerous Mayfly, I just wish you were a little more wary of what loving me means.” Wrapping his arms tighter around your frame, you understand. You understand so well that you don’t need to think about the dangers or any perils, instead, you just think of how you want to keep walking along beside him. 

A silence descends around the two of you for a while as you go back to watching the stars, enjoying the silence of the night and each other's presence. At least until your eyelids start to droop. “Go to sleep Mayfly.” Opening your mouth to argue only to feel his warm gloved hand slide over your lips. “We’ve got a few hours until daybreak and should be in the next settlement by noon. I can sleep once we get a hotel, so sleep, my dangerous lady.” Removing his hand and kissing the top of your head.

You grumble a bit, but with another few adjustments of the blanket and Vash leaning back into the sand, you find your head just above his heartbeat. It’s calmer once more and as much as you fight it, the steady tone lulls you to sleep along with the sweep of his hand along your back. 

Vash chuckles to himself when the sound of soft snores starts to leave you, staring out over the dunes and not for the first time wondering if he’ll understand the strange front you put on when others are around.

When the first hint of the sky lightening appears Vash lets out a sigh, minus a few small worms darting by it was a quiet night. Then again most nights in the dunes are, with no one around to intrude on the two of you Vash often feels strange about it, like his heart is pulled in two directions. 

The first is because he enjoys the time he can spend with you, holding you against him or doing what the two of you had done last night as you stared up into space. It’s too much of a danger to flaunt your relationship out in the general public, to many risks of people going after you to try and get to him. As much as you might argue that you’ve got a few enemies of your own deep down Vash knows hiding your relationship is all for his benefit. 

The second is simple. Vash loves people, he loves humanity and while that lonely void in his heart is filled by your presence you’re still just one other person. Vash likes being part of a community even if it’s just for one night, to be a part of their daily lives, and trying to help make the struggle less even if it’s just doing the dishes or cleaning out Tomas pens. 

And right now, when the two of you are in town some of those walls come back up, and when you’re out and about the facade of just being traveling partners comes back to the surface. When people hit on you, as often as you miss the fact that’s what they’re doing, he’d love to walk up and tell them to leave his girlfriend alone. That would just create problems. Instead, he has to be sly about the way he approaches you, and sly in the way he ensures those flirting with him get the hint that he’s really not all that interested. He might act oblivious to it, but he likes being on the receiving end so he can watch the ways your lips quirk in frustration. It might be a little mean on his part, but that hint of jealousy you get makes him feel better about when it happens to you and he’s the one seeing a little green. 

Vash sighs, low in his throat as another worm darts by. A conundrum to be sure for the plant, that wants to walk into every town, village, and city the two of you come across and scream his adoration for you to the world. Instead, it’s silent, his two largest desires fighting for what he wants. 

A low murmur from you as you nestle more against his chest, your arms sliding along his covered body to form a small triangle to block out some of the growing light. An unconscious move he finds adorable and you sleep mused hair sticks up in strange shapes. Nowhere near as bad as in a hotel room.

It’s that thought of how much waking up beside you that makes his heart churn and reinforces how he can’t scream his affection aloud where others can hear. If even a whisper about you gets back to Nai, Vash knows down to the very core of his being that his twin would try to take you from him. Just like he tried to kill Luida that day well over a century before.

Nai’d just see you another human trying to get between them, and if Vash lost you because of that he knew he’d never be able to forgive himself. Unaware his hand was adding slightly more pressure until you let out a small noise of discomfort and the movement ceased, lifting your head with a long yawn. 

“Morning.” You’re still half asleep blinking slowly and it makes his heart thump harder inside of his ribs. “Anything” Another yawn “Happen?” 

A soft laugh followed by a smile that crinkles the corner of his eyes. “Nothing exciting. Well except maybe you calling out my name wantonly, gasping for me to go harder.” 

“Nice try.” Pushing yourself up with your arms and stretching in a way that reminds him of a cat as your stomach presses more against his lean body. “But if that was the case you’d be a lot redder and you’d be hard.” 

A blush shoots up his neck as quickly as your words tumble from your mouth. “Hey! Maybe I know you won’t let me get any while in the desert!” That gets both of you laughing at the remembrance of the day after and Vash pulling sand from his underwear for the rest of the walk through the dunes until he was able to get cleaned in the hotel room when you reached town. 

“Come on big guy, time to get up and get a move on.” Sitting fully up on his lap before you wink, leaning back down for a quick kiss. “The sooner we get to town the sooner you can have a nap, which brings us closer to me trying to make you match your coat again.”  

Later in town, you do just that and as Vash relaxes in the post orgasm haze he has to admit, at least being around other people still has you in his bed. A compromise he hopes one day he won’t have to make with his heart anymore.  

Back to masterlist for the series

[heartfullofleeches]

Reader taking eggnogg in a leash just because they are their little pet. Their pampered baby.

When you proposition the idea of buying them a leash, Elisha proposes a counter offer after deep consideration.

"Can I make it myself?...."

"Sure?" You couldn't see any harm in letting them do it- not with those puppy eyes.

Eggnog beams like a child on christmas, color flushed to their pale features as a smile splits their cheeks. Bolting for the stairwell at speeds supernatural for a figure of their size and stature, Eggnog knocks down several pictures frames in the hall, and articles of clothing from your closet as they ascend - a hairline fracture splitting the far wall of your living room ceiling as they trip somewhere along the narrow passage way to the attic. They regain their balance, mark the hole their horns left to repair later, and continue on their way.

Eggnog makes quick work of their homemade leash. Everything they needed was already close by, and most importantly you were waiting for them. A stuffed rabbit with an old shirt of yours sewn into the lining of its ears made up the base of their creation, some straps they had stored away stitched into its sided and adjusted according to their wide shoulders. They fashion the remanding strips into a leash which they attach onto the rabbit's left foot, finishing their masterpiece. The stitching was a tad sparse, but they trusted you and themselves enough to avoid causing the bunny harm. Eggnog takes a moment to sit back and kisses the plush's horns modeled after their own for their brave sacrifice - utilizing the opportunity to breath in the scent of you embedded in the fabric of your old tee.

Elisha returns to find you dozing off on the couch. They crotch beside you and wrap the leash around your wrists before gently shaking you awake, combing their hair over their shoulder as you stir. Once you're up and fully responsive; Eggnog turns so you can see the their backpack, reaching an arm behind them to give you a wave by use of the rabbit's paw. Their eyes grow big with question as they face you again.

"It's adorable, Eggs" You cup your hands beneath their chin, guiding their head into your lap as you raise one up to their horns. Eggnog stiffens as they normally did in the presence of comfort, but soon melts at the first stroke long the hollow bone. You hate to spoil the moment, but as they begin to purr you know the plans you made would have to be delayed if they fell asleep. You help them sit upright, wiping spit coated strands of hair from their cheek.

"Before you doze off let's go for a walk first. I'm sure you're tired from all the work you did, so once we get back we take a bath and head off to bed. How's that sound?"

The effect of your words is astounding. Eggnog is at the door before you get your shoes on. It's a good thing you let go of their leash first. They race out the door once you open it for them - redirecting right back to the house after making it halfway across yard to retrieve what they had forgotten. You help them get their sunhat on as Eggnog ties the leash around your wrist. They walk behind you this time, looking at you for lead into town.

At your heels is where they stay for the rest of your stroll. The anxiety of being outside quickly leaves them in favor of the joy being with you brings. They even have the courage to say hello to their fellow hybrids - if not to gloat for being the one you adore most. They are, aren't they? They haven't given you much choice given they lived in your attic, but you were as much theirs as they were yours. Eggnog bumps into you a few times as the realization hits them. It doesn't catch their guard until you stopped in front of two unfamiliar faces. The one holding the map is the first to speak while the other eyes Eggnog.

"Hi, we're just stopping in town looking for a lake nearby? Can either of you help us find it."

"Sure, I'll mark it on you map."

Eggnog picks at their lips as you walk over. No, no no- Who are these strangers, and why are they cutting in on your precious time together. Haven't they been through enough, don't they deserve this? Realistically it would've only taken you about a minute to help the tourist, but Eggnog needed you more - and now. They creep closer.

"home."

"Just a minute, Eggs."

Their chest presses against your back. "Now."

You look down as their arms slither around your waist, tying your hands together with their leash.

"Eggs?- Wha... EGGNOG!"

Shoving the duo aside, Eggnog flees the scene carrying you to their chest. You keep your screams to a minimum as despite their actions you know what it does to their ears. Eggnog darts into an alleyway and places you down to catch their breath. Before you can speak, their mop of messy hair distorts your vision as their lips snuff out your words. They force the leash into your hands as they rest their forehead against yours, noses brushed together.

"mine."