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minnesota-fats · 1 year

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A fic-lit about Danny working at the watchtower, not as a superhero but as an engineer.

This is based on an prompt I read months ago but cant find where Danny put that he was a halfa on his resume but the hiring manager didn’t pay attention to it and hired him anyway. Rather than that its just Danny working at the watchtower and vibing on break when a tiny Robin finds him in the viewing deck.

—

Danny had been working for the justice league watchtower for a couple of months. He has seen hero’s come and go, paying him no mind and he was absolutely living for it! Unlike at 14, he was just a simple, normal worker—despite being half dead and the next in line for the crown in the infinite realms—he is just a simple mechanical engineer, Danny Nightingale. No one to fight, no one to save, just a big space station that needed someone to help keep it up in space.

And that's another bonus to this job; Space!

He gets to spend his shift up in the stars, looking out at the cold expanse of their solar system. Admiring the earth from a whole new angle, and he is getting paid to do it! Sure he could go into space any time, but being able to spend a good portion of his time here really made his core sing in joy. When he was on break he would wander around the areas he had clearance to go into, looking out every window at every star. Cataloging the ships movement through space with sharp eyes. His favorite place to go is the viewing deck, it was exactly what it sounded like, a place to just go and view that space outside.

It was there that Danny decided to take his break today, the Watchtower was at just the right angle to be able to see the earth from the viewing deck. Danny smiled watching the planet he lived on from afar, this really was the best job he could have ended up with!

A few months back he was having a hard time finding work after college, sure he had all the proper qualifications for the positions he applied for. But due to his medical condition—being half dead with a slow almost nonexistent heartbeat—they all refused him, afraid that his heart wouldn't keep up if he left the atmosphere to board any of the space stations orbiting the earth. To be fair it wouldn't have, he tested it by flying up to the moon and back the old fashioned way. But he couldn't just tell them that; being an ecto entity was still a crime that he was just barely able to get away from at age eighteen.

He came out to his parents once he graduated high school, they reacted poorly. Danny’s mom saw red and tried to kill him the rest of the way, claiming that Danny was just a ghost “piloting” his corpse around. Danny’s dad just stayed silent and watched, but before maddie could really do anything he acted. Jack knocked Maddie out with a strong blow to the back of her head. Danny remembered the hope that he had when Jack did that, but after he looked up at the man that hope died in his chest. The man looked torn, both angry and sad and in a voice lacking any of the familiar warmth said, “leave before she wakes up.” And he turned to pick up Maddie and made his way up the stairs. It was because of his dad that he was able to get away because after that Danny Fenton was declared dead. With the help of Sam and Tucker he was able to make a new identity for himself and go to school. From that day on Danny decided to move on and never look back.

After putting his name out there time and time again he was rejected. It wasn't until he got a letter in the mail saying he had been scheduled for an interview at Wayne tech of all places. He didn’t remember applying there but decided to go anyway, needing some sort of job to get him through. But when he got there he was greeted by Lucius Fox and Batman of all people! Danny nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the dark knight, Danny couldn't help but think the worst. But before he could bolt, Lucius explained that Batman was looking for workers with the help of Wayne Industries for the base of operations for the Justice League—The Watchtower. Turns out all his applications to several different space programs caught the man’s attention. He even explained that Danny wouldn't even need to have a physical or get on a spaceship because The Watchtower utilized teleportation technology. Danny was so excited that he agreed on the spot without even knowing the benefits he would get from working with them. Which—surprising to no one—were a lot of benefits.

Danny was drawn from his thoughts when he heard the soft, almost nearly nonexistent footsteps coming from behind him. Danny turned and saw a child—no older than twelve—wearing a hero’s costume that looked like he was mimicking a traffic light. The kid froze in his tracks when Danny turned to face him, the two staring at each other for a few moments before the kid smiled and waved at him.

“Hi,” the kid beamed at Danny, “I’m D—Robin!”

Danny lifted a brow, “you a part of the justice league?” He asked, not remembering a kid being a part of their team.

The kid shook his head, “No, my guardian is though!” He explained.

“Ah, neat,” Danny said nonshalontly as he turned back to look at the window, “you come to see the view?” He asked.

The kid walked farther into the room and gasped when he got a better look at said view. “Woah—”, he exclaimed, now standing next to Danny.

Danny looked beside him to see the stars reflecting off of the kids' eyes, “cool isn't it? I come here on my lunch breaks," Danny says.

The kid looked at him and then squinted suspiciously, “if you're at lunch where is your food?” He asked.

Danny smiled, “I forgot my lunch at home today,” Danny lied, seeing the stars gave him enough energy to continue going. He usually eats when he gets home.

“Really?” The kid asked with a raised brow.

Danny smiled and looked around to see if anyone else was there, when he saw no one he asked, “do you wanna hear a secret?” He asked. Robin looked around himself as well before he leaned down a bit so Danny could whisper into his ear, “I actually just absorb the energy from the stars to sustain myself.” He explained.

“Really?” Robin asked, looking at him again, trying to gauge if Danny was lying or not.

Danny smiled, “yep,” he said, popping the p, “that's why I got a job here, that way I won’t starve to death.” Danny grins.

“But cant you just look at the stars from earth?” Robin asked, tilting his head.

“I mean, sure,” Danny says with a shrug, looking back out the window, “but this is so much better, isn't it?”

Robin looked out the window, “yeah!” The boy exclaimed, “it's so much clearer up here than in Gotham.” He commented.

Danny smiled and looked back at the boy, “I live in Gotham, too.”

“Really?” Robin asked, “No wonder you come up here,” the boy commented, causing Danny to snort in laughter and it wasn't long before Robin joined him.

“You got that right,” Danny says with a smirk before something dawns on him, “Wait, hero from gotham? I didn't know Batman had a kid?” Robin looked away, Danny could feel his nerves and sadness pass through him.

Danny was about to tell him that he didn't have to talk about it but before he could get his words out Robin spoke up, “My parents died about a year ago… he took me in only recently, he decided to train me when I found out he was Batman,” the kid says looking down at his feet, a glare etched on his face, “i never got to avenge my parents, the murderer had a heart attack before I could even get to him….”

Danny reached out to the kid and placed his hand on Robin’s shoulder, Robin looked up at him—as if remembering that Danny was there with him.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Danny says softly, Robin looks away from him. “But I can tell you wholeheartedly, your parents are proud of you and what you are doing,” robin began rubbing at his mask, preventing him from wiping the tears away from his eyes underneath. “Here,” Danny says as he goes to pick up the 12 year old, “let's get you back to the Big Black Bat, I bet he is looking for you.”

Danny sits Robin on his hip and walks out of the room, rubbing circles into the child’s back. They walk together in silence, Robin resting his head in the crook of Danny's neck. “…Thank you,” Robin mumbles.

“Don't mention it kid,” Danny says as he looks around the corridor trying to spot anyone who could help him get this kid to the upper levels, “I know what it's like to lose your parents….”

“Really?” Robin asked, his head lifting off of Danny’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Danny says, “they didn't die, but they basically said they never wanted to see me again.”

Robin gasped, “that's not nice!” Robin declared making Danny laugh again.

“Your right,” Danny agrees as he turns down another hall towards where the zeta tubes were, maybe someone in there could help. “But, now I'm here, having the time of my life with the job of my dreams.”

Robin smiled again, “you could say you're living the HIGH life.”

Danny paused in the hall and started snickering, “that was a good one, Birdy.”

“Birdy?” Robin asked.

“Yeah, your name is Robin, that's a bird, so Birdy,” Danny explained, “its a nickname

“Does that make us friends?” Robin asked.

“Sure, as long as your guardian is ok with it.”

The boy smiled happily, excited at the idea of having made a new friend. The calm was interrupted but Danny’s supervisor yelled from across the room, “Nightingale!” He shouts, causing Danny to jump.

Danny turns to look at the man, “hey boss—” he starts, blocking Robin from the man, not wanting to scare the kid.

“You are late to clock back in! You're not getting paid to sit around with your head in the clouds!” The man shouts.

“Sorry sir, I was—”

“No! You need to get back to work, NOW!” He demanded, “this is a multibillion dollar space station, everything needs to be on a strict schedule!”

Danny sighed, his supervisor hasn't liked Danny from day one. Something about him being “young and nïeve” or something like that; “head higher up into space than we were right now.” At least that's what Danny heard him say about him once or twice.

Danny was about to talk back when something just past his manager caught his eye. It was Batman, walking fast with a look that told everyone to get out of the way. But Danny could feel the worry bleed off the man in waves. Must be looking for Robin, Danny’s mind supplied. Danny sidesteps his supervisor and shouts, “Hey Batman!” To catch the dark knight’s attention. Danny had to restrain his laughter when he saw the look of horror pass on his supervisor's face.

Now with the vigilanties cold glare focused on him, Danny smiled and adjusted his stance to show Robbin to him. “Looking for you kid?” Danny asked.

Robin smiled nervously and waved at Batman, guess he wasn’t supposed to wander off like he did. “Hey B!” He shouts.

Batman’s glare softens so slightly, a regular person would have missed it. However, Danny could feel the man’s previous anxieties melt away into a strong relief. Batman strutted forward and glared down at Danny—despite Danny being taller than him. Danny just smiled and adjusted Robin on him so he could hand him over to the dark knight.

Now in Batman’s arms, Robin tapped his pointer fingers together nervously. “Sorry for wandering off,” he mumbled before his smile came back full force, “but,” he exclaimed, “I made a friend! His name is Danny and he liked my puns! And we both have bird names!” He exclaimed all while pointing at Danny.

Batman looked from the kid in his arms to Danny, “hmm,” he grumbled. A man of few words, Batman nods at Danny.

Danny nodded back, “He’s a good kid, glad I was able to help.” Danny replied. Feeling gratitude from that small gesture alone. Batman isn't the most expressive but being able to read emotions like Danny really helps when talking to people.

Batman turns his head to look over at Danny’s superior, “hmm.” After that Batman turned and walked away.

Robin climbed to sit up on Batman’s shoulder and waved back at Danny, “Bye bird buddy! Have a good day!” He shouts as Batman enters the elevator. The doors closing behind them and leaving the zeta tube control center in near silence.

Danny looked back to his supervisor who looked as pale as a sheet ghost, Danny gave him a shit eating grin and shrugged at him. “I tried to tell ya—”

“Get back to work Nightingale!” He shouts.

“Ok, ok, I'm going.” Danny says, turning on his heels and walking away from the man with his hands held up in surrender.

—

I have so many ideas for this au and if I write more I might post it on my AO3 feel free to read other things I posted on there!

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jarofstyles · 2 months

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Take Me Higher

Happy 4/20 my lovelies. I just whipped this up quickly so I hope you guys enjoy it 🫣

Check out our Patreon for early access and 160+ exclusive writings!

Send requests here

WC- 2.5k

Warnings- use of marijuana, high users, switch!H, choking, cum play, etc

Picture is not mine, credits to owner

————-

The smoke had cleared out of the room but it was a bit cold still from the chill of the night. It wasn’t quite warm enough to be spring in her humble opinion, but she’d take what she could get. Plus, Harry had brought her some food stuff for them and she was feeling the effects kicking in as she felt a weight settle on her body. Her eyes were hooded and she was a little giggly as his scent engulfed her, vanilla and tobacco more prominent than the smell she tried to keep from her place.

“Mm… you’re warm.” A cool nose brushed her throat, making her shiver as the man crawled up her body and rested himself on top of her. Harry always got like this when they smoked, but it seemed even more prominent today.

“And you’re a needy little thing.” Fingers carded through his hair, knocking the beanie off his head as he buried his face in her neck. There was no real response except a whine, breath warm on her skin as he tried to warm himself up. The window had to be opened so they’d not get any real complaints from their flat, but luckily they were sure her neighbor wasn’t home today.

Comfortable silence made her melt further into the sofa, the playlist on low as her eyes fluttered shut and she busied herself with playing with his hair. He’d been a good smoking buddy for a while, but she knew why he really came over. It was only a matter of time.

A large hand slipped under her body, wiggling itself under her top to feel the hot expanse of her back. He couldn’t get close enough, needy little thing, and Y/N was fully enjoying being clung to. Physical touch always made the high even better, but that’s just her opinion. Or maybe it was physical touch was better when high? She didn’t know. Her brain didn’t want to analyze that right this second.

“Did you sleep last night? Tired?” Her voice was soft as she didn’t want to disturb the vibe, twirling a curl around her fingertips.

“No.” He shook his head, seeming like he was trying to get into her skin. “Jus’ want to get close to you. You’re warm and you smell fuckin’ incredible.” His voice was a little bit more hoarse, but that was to be expected. “You’re my favorite person... To smoke with.” He added on to the thought hurriedly but she wasn’t going to call him out on it. Fingers trailed down her spine, making her shudder a little.

“Hm, is that because I let you eat my pussy?” She smirked, feeling him pull his head form her neck with a glare. Sex with him was fantastic. Maybe it was because they were usually blazed when they did it and they both felt the sensitivity that went with it along with a more intense orgasm. He was the only one who could match her drive when she was like this, so he’d easily become a favorite person of her. Though she had a feeling that he’d do it just as well without the smoking bit, that would be something to unpack at a later date.

“Hey… don’t make me sound like a lecher.” He pouted, sending her heart to beat a bit harder. One thing she’d give the man was that he was adorable. “Not the only reason. I love doin’ that but… you have the best snacks n’you let me talk about anything. Your cunt is just a bonus… though I really do love it.” Harry wasn’t usually super shy, but sometimes he got a bit bashful when it came to Y/N. There was a slight hesitation as he let their noses brush, ghosting his lips over hers. “Can I?”

“So sweet for asking.” Y/N cooed, smiling n at his request. He wanted to kiss her. She could taste how bad he wanted it when the high had hit him, but now he wasn’t able to hold back much. “Go ahead, pretty boy. Since you seem to like it so much.”

Harry was a little messy with it, smearing their lips together and grazing his teeth over her bottom lip. There wasn’t much to hide his desperation as he adjusted himself on top of her, pulling one of her legs to wrap around his hip. “I do.” He breathed before licking into her mouth. Her lips were so sweet and soft, tasting like the cola she’d drank and mint chapstick. His favorite thing. Pulling apart with a soft clicking sound, he let out a groan as he looked down at her. Her bun was all messed up with some flyaways, lips wet and eyes hazy. His favorite sight. Seeing he undone when usually she was so put together, knowing he’d been the one to get to see her like this… it did things to his “I really fucking do.”

Y/N whimpered as he devoured her. His tongue hot in her mouth and his hand gripping her thigh to keep her close, she couldn’t help but grow hot when she felt him against her. It wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last, but it still surprised her every time. How had she ever fit that inside of her? Tightening her legs around his hips, she heard the hitch in his breathing before he pulled away from her lips to groan. It gave her a chance to pull her shirt off her body, exposing her tits to him.

Harry nearly whimpered at the sight of them, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips before making his way down. “Fuck, the things you do t’me.” He whispered, moving closer to her breasts. “Can I kiss on them a bit, pretty? It’ll feel good.” He pleaded, sighing against the skin as she nodded at the request.

Sponging kisses all over the swells, he gently rocked his hips into hers to relieve a bit of the ache. His cock was thick and throbbing, desperate for some relief. The hear of her cunt could he felt through her panties, making Harry thank whatever higher power that she’d chosen the big shirt no pants combination today. “Gorgeous. You’re so pretty, all over.” He praised, puckering his lips over a nipple for a kiss. She shivered under him, her grip in his hair getting fuller as he brought it into his mouth.

Y/N sighed in pleasure as his hot mouth suckled on her. She’d loved when he did this last time, licking over her tits while he was inside of her. He was still clothed this time but somehow that was just as hot to her. Panties were ruined regardless, but she arched her back slightly as he took more of her breast into his mouth and rolled his tongue around the nipple. “Oh, shit.” The girl whimpered, rocking her hips in return. The stimulation made her head cloudy, or maybe it was the blunt, but she didn’t really care. It all felt so fucking good, it didn’t matter. “Harry… you’re so nice t’me.” She sighed, watching him pull off with a soft ‘pop’.

“I know, sweetheart. It’s what you deserve, yeah? So nice to me too…” he sighed into her chest, placing wet kisses to the skin that glistened in the light, leaving cool spots once he left. “Let me come over and smoke, let me eat your snacks, kiss your pretty mouth… let me taste you, sometimes let me feel that perfect little pussy wrapped around me… have t’be nice to my girl.”

She didn’t have a chance to answer before he repeated the process with her other nipple, making her pant. The grinding was getting harder, her breathing matching it as he rubbed over her clit in the motions. Back and forth, sweet relief as she spread herself out further and clutched his head to her breast as he worshiped them. “Fuck me, keep going like that and M’gonna cum.” She warned him, though she had no real want of him stopping.

“So cum.” He mumbled into her skin. “Won’t be the last time you do it tonight.” And oh- oh. He sounded so self assured and cocky and it did something to her, a zap of electricity to her tummy as she moaned into the air, clinging to him.

His back was firm under her hands, not stopping herself from sliding them unde this tee shirt. His skin was burning under her palms as she dragged her nails lightly down his shoulder blades. “Harder.” He instructed, rutting into her with more force. “Scratch me. S’okay.” He couldn’t help connecting their mouths again, fingers digging into the flesh of her thigh as it clung to him.

She did as asked, surprising her when he let out a deeper groan than she’d heard before. His hips quickened, sure his gray sweats were ruined but uncaring about anything else. “Gonna make me cum in my joggers.” He panted against her lips, unable to keep himself from touching her. His mouth was a magnet to her body, his cock throbbing and balls feeling exceptionally full as he dry fucked her.

“Mm… here.” She momentarily reached between them and tugged them down far enough that he was out of them. “Cum on my panties.” Her voice rang into his ears. “Already ruined them. Can’t you feel how wet you made me?” And fuck, could he.

Without the sweats in the way he could feel her soaked through panties wetting his prick, the heat of her through the barely there fabric making him insane. Though the real thing that got him was her request. “You really want that?” He questioned, buttoning their lips together for a moment because he simply couldn’t help it. “You want t’be sticky with my load all over your panties and your skin? I’ve got so much for you…” he wasn’t joking either. It had been a bit since they’d hung out and his hand didn’t do him as much justice as she could. His dick desperately missed her.

“You know I don’t mind a mess, Harry.” She purred, moving a hand to wrap around his throat. “And you’ll be a good boy and lick it off my skin, won’t you? Then you’ll lick my pretty pussy until you’re ready to fuck me. Because you’re always such a good boy for me…”

Oh, fuck. Harry whimpered at the feeling of her hand around his throat, the drop of his guilty pleasure nickname, immediately feeling the shift. He was determined to please her before, but this tone of voice and her slight overtaking made him a bit pathetic. “Yes- yeah, M’gonna do it.” He promised, adjusting them slightly so he tip could brush right over her clit. “Anything you want. Want t’make you feel so good. M’good for you.” He nodded, messily kissing her again as he quickened the pace of his thrusts.

Y/N hummed in pleasure as he got them to the right position. His hard cock rutting against her like the fabric wasn’t even there, thick and hot. She loved feeling him, knowing she’d done that to him. Her stomach tightened as she felt the perfect thrust from him, gasping into his mouth. “Oh- yes, like that. Keep it light that, baby.” She pleaded, mouth falling open as he repeated it. “Mhm… there. Gonna cum.” She had been worked up for a little bit now but feeling his need to please her helped her get there.

“Please, please do it. Want you to cum, want you to feel so good… you’re so perfect, please cum for me. Give it to me, fuckin’ goddess….” He spoke to her like he needed her orgasm to breathe. Whimpery and needy and unlike how he usually sounded, but with his perfect angle and the friction against her clit combined with that, she was pushed over the edge.

“Yes- yes, fuck me.” Head falling further back into the cushions, she dug her nails into his back with one hand while the other tightened on his throat. Sparks igniting her nerves and her legs held on to him like a lifeline as she came. Harry never knew a prettier sight in his life than how she looked when he made her orgasm.

“Give me it too, H. Make me a sticky mess so you can clean me.” She gasped out. “You’ve been so good, I know you can give me what I want. Please?” Her voice shook slightly. “Give me what I want.” Giving just the slightest bit more pressure to the fingers on the sides of his throat, she knew exactly how much to press to make him lightheaded. Choking was a weakness of his, something that made him cum embarrassingly fast a lot of the time, but this time he was grateful as he let out a sob. His prick was slick with her and aching to release but he tried to hold back for her sake. With the mix of the high being at its height, the sensitivity overwhelming him and how she knew exactly how to touch him- The moment she called him a good boy and gave him the head rush he needed, he was a fucking goner.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, M’gonna cum-“ he babbled her name as he found his release. Jerking against her, hot ribbons of the pearly cum shot against the covered cunt and over her tummy. His balls pulsed as he unloaded on her, smearing it over himself and her as his hips sloppily worked him through the orgasm. Face slack in rapture, he let out a hoarse groan as the last of it spilled from his tip, hips jerking a few times before he felt her hand fall and his mouth descended on hers again.

“You’re gonna be the end of me, hm?” He slurred, biting her lip with a hum before he lowered his body onto hers. His prick was sensitive but he made no move to pull back, pecking her over and over again as she caressed his cheek with her choking hand. Y/N was by far the best at it regardless, intuition leading her to know exactly what he liked. “Feel like m’fucking floating. Dunno if it’s the high or your cunt.” He snickered, feeling her return the laugh.

“Probably a mix of both.” She smiled, giving him a few kisses of her own. “But we’ve got plenty to keep it going for a while. Are you up for it, pretty boy?” The girl had no plans but to be blazed and fucked for the rest of the night, and she hoped he was on the same page.

“M’up for anything, you fuckin’ goddess.” He mumbled as he sat up on his knees to look at the mess they’d made. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen, her cunt and little thatch of hair visible through the now transparent fabric and splattered with cum on the ruined panties and her tummy. It made his mouth water just looking at it. “Jesus… look at this.” He mumbled, spreading her further open with his hand. “Seems like I’ve got a lot of work to do, don’t I?”

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gtgbabie0 · 1 year

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Hello, I hope you are ´well! I've been reading your stories for a while now and I love the gentle and tender vibe they have!

Well, I had the following idea: gn reader and RE4 Leon have been dating for a long time and they decide to make their thing official. However, gn reader doesn't feel ready for the next step, so besides from sweet and passionate kisses, reader thinks it´s time for trying something new, that´s why reader would love to ask Leon for a neck hickey (Leon makes the hickey), although reader is too shy to say it directly.

Love bites

{Leon loves his shy lover}

This is so good! Thank you sm for requesting lovely!! 💕💕

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Sometimes you didn’t think Leon was real, his patient and gentle demeanour towards you was something that never failed to take your breath away. The way he constantly makes you feel like the most important person in his life, as if you were the centre of his attention, and you are.

He never, not once, gives you a moment to doubt his love for you. And this shows in the way he touches you ever so gently, how his hands caress the curves of your body mapping out over your soft skin as if he’s trying to memorise your entire being.

You take notice of the way one of his hands finds itself against the side of your face as he kisses you, his supple lips against yours as you chase after each other's loving warmth, it’s safe, and he waits for you to relax into him before tilting his head to kiss you deeper.

It’s such a thrilling feeling that flurries in your chest and it causes your heart to stutter. But there’s something that claws in your stomach, the desperate need for more.

He pulls away from you as you both catch your breath, “Are you okay sweetness?” He whispers, his thumb grazing against the apple of your cheek.

You let out a shaky laugh, not really sure how you could ask for what you wanted without the embarrassment eating you alive. The words sit on your tongue but they refuse to leave.

You rest your head against his shoulder, enjoying the way his big hand soothes against the expanse of your back, “Can you- I erm— I want you to” You push your head further into the curve of his neck, trying to hide away from the awkwardness that wraps around you.

“Can I what baby, hmm?” He whispers, turning to press a kiss to the side of your head, and your skin goes feverishly hot, “What do you want sweetheart?”

You know you shouldn’t feel this torn up about wanting such a thing. Leon would give you absolutely anything in the world if you just asked.

“I can’t say it” yet the words are stubbornly stuck in your throat.

His hands cup your jaw and his heart practically melts as you look up at him with those pretty eyes, slightly glossed over by the kisses you both shared just moments ago.

“Hey, it’s just me- you can tell me,” he says and you smile at the gentleness that bleeds into his tone.

Your eyes close as he peppers kisses against your face, he notices the way your breath hitches ever so slightly as his lips travel down to your jaw, such a soft sound that if he wasn’t so close to you he’d probably not even notice. And he smiles at the realisation of what you want.

Your hands settle against his shoulders, “I want- god- Leon I can’t say it” you whisper, giggling to try and fill the silence.

He smiles at the way your eyes flicker around the room, trying to find some sort of distraction. He notices the way you fiddle with the fabric of his shirt.

“I can’t help you baby if you don’t tell me what you want,” he says, and you groan pushing at his shoulder watching the smirk that plays against his lips. He was teasing you.

“Leon, you’re not being nice,” you tell him as his lips trail along your jaw, tilting your chin with his hand as he presses kisses to pulse points. He smiles into your skin at the sigh that falls from your lips.

He traces soft patterns onto your hip, “Is this okay?” He asks waiting until you nod eagerly before he experiments by grazing his teeth against your soft skin, his tongue running along the mark.

The soft gasps that follow only makes him suck at the sensitive parts of your neck and he relishes in the way your fingers thread through his hair, pushing him closer.

“Leon” his name falls so perfectly from your lips and he sits back to admire his handiwork, how different shades of red paint your gentle skin. “I have work tomorrow” you gasp.

His thumb smooths over the marks, his marks, “Don’t worry baby, they’ll fade by then, they’re not that bad” he tells you, chuckling at the disappointment that settles in your eyes.

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gothicbabydollz · 1 year

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You try to run away from dark!Azriel and he's not very happy about it.

Warnings: dark, dubcon, prey/predator vibes, azriel’s a bit delusional

Read at your own risk

↬ 𝐑𝐮𝐧, 𝐫𝐮𝐧, 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 ↫

In…

Out.

In…

Out.

Your lungs burn. Each breath feels like sucking down broken glass. You’ve never been one to really care about staying fit, though now you curse yourself for it. Pure adrenaline is all that’s keeping your legs moving. You can’t stop. You can’t rest. There’s no time to spare in this situation.

In all your time spent as his prisoner, locked away. A damsel in distress. Although there’s no knight in shining armour coming to your rescue. Only the beast, who taunts you, watches over you, makes it impossible to every run free.

Until tonight.

So you took your chance, ran off, barefoot and half dressed. Hoping to put as much distance as possible between you and the winged male. He frightens you. A towering bulk of dark skin and even darker features, perfect for blending into shadows. You wonder if he’s watching you know, hiding in the darkness, waiting to strike. Releasing a sob, you push forward. If he wasn’t so…so fucking insane, you would probably yearn for a male like him.

The stray branches are invisible to your eyes, as you try your hardest to keep up pace, whipping through the tree line to possible freedom.

That’s why a surprised shout escapes you when your foot is sliced as you step down on splintered wood. Your hands are next, bracing your landing as you fall forward. Fresh tears soak your cheeks, hot against your skin. “No, no, no, no,” you cry, scrambling to get back on your feet, “Fuck.” Your foot throbs in pain, your palms scuffed, knees bruised. Yet, you keep going, using the trees for support as you limp forward. Your lip bleeds from how hard you bite, trying to keep your sobs at bay. The sound would draw too much attention.

You make it another 10 yards before you feel his presence. The temperature drops to freezing and chills cover the expanse your body. You halt, clamping a hand over your mouth as you cry harder. Knowing you’ve been caught. There’s no use trying to run or trying to hide. The male has told you countless of times how much your scent affects him, how he could sniff you out from miles away.

Something wraps around your bare ankle, wispy yet strong. You don’t get the chance to look before it’s pulling hard. You’re flung back onto the ground from the sheer force it possesses. Dirt, leaves and branches tug at you as you’re dragged along the forest floor. Fingers scrambling for purchase, as pain nips at you from every direction.

You stop. And silence fills the space. You try to push yourself up, eyes darting the surrounding area. As soon as the quiet began, it ends. A large hand grips your shoulder and you squirm as you’re flipped onto your back. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” The male glares down at you, venom laced in his voice, that scarred hand of his now squeezing your jaw in a vice like grip. “Stupid girl, you could have been killed. What would I have done then huh? Mates don’t fall from fucking the sky!” He jerks your face, as if trying to shake sense into you. He’s cages you to the ground. His face right above yours. His knee trapped between your thighs, pressing into your core. Heat blossoms reluctantly. Your unconscious attraction makes you sick to the stomach.

Breathing heavily, you glare right back, seething. “I’m not your fucking mate!”

You regret the outburst the moment those words leave your lips. The male goes still…quiet. However you can see the rage bubbling behind his eyes. You can’t help the pathetic sob you let out, truly scared he’s going to kill you and leave you out here for the animals to fight over. “If i was to check right now…would your cunt be wet?”

You almost choke with surprise.

Lips tight and quivering, you shake your head as best as possible. Not trusting your own voice. He grunts, shifting to slip his hand down between your bodies. Your eyes widen, yet all he does is smile down at you. As if he already knows the answer. Your underwear is ripped from your body with ease. You whimper as thick, warm fingers slide through your folds, damp with slick, as expected. The male chuckles darkly. Gotcha. He says with the action.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” You try, involuntarily bucking your hips when the heal of his hand brushes your clit. He plays with your slick, palm grinding purposely against your clit as he speaks, “Oh, but it does. You hate me….but your body doesn’t.” His canines flash in the moonlight streaking through the trees, he’s grinning as he notes your body’s reaction to the stimulation. Your breath turned shallow, brows furrowed, lips parted. “Your body knows your soul intertwines with my own, even if you’re too dumb to realise.” He scoffs, yet leans down, hot breath fanning over your skin as he nears your ear, “Tell me this doesn’t feel good,” He whispers as two fingers slowly sink into your cunt, your walls hugging him immediately.

You can’t stop the way your eyes roll back, or the pleasured sound which leaves your throat. “Let me show you we’re meant to be, bunny,” he says, softer than how he spoke before. His fingers curl against your walls and you mewl, squirming. “Let me show you…and maybe, just maybe i’ll forget the little stunt you pulled tonight.”

#azriel #azriel smut #dark!azriel #azriel x reader #dark fic #azriel x reader smut #azriel acotar

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vxiphoid · 1 year

Text

✦ HOME SWEET HOME(MATES)

❨ leona as your roommate ❩ basically roommates to lovers, i am dying for this trope holy shit. kinda ooc leona (im not sure but ill put this here anyways.), some cursing, mention of marriage like once, other than that really fluffy.

2k+ words

MOVING IN, WELCOME HOME, LEONA !!

MONTH I

when he first moved in, you were expecting some imperious, egotistical, loud-mouthed prince and well, the imperious part wasn’t exactly wrong. you barely even see the dude and when you do, he’s on the couch, slumped. half of the time you forget you even have a roommate. hell, the dude barely even talks to you. the first time you actually talk to him, after a month of living with each other, is when he placed an assload of dishes in the sink after you had respectfully washed them on his week.

that’s how you found yourself practically hip to hip with a prince, elbows deep in soapy water, hands brushing occasionally. he refused to wash the dishes he had purposely dropped in the sink while you were finishing the last dish. how long was he hoarding these in his room? you didn’t know but you made a deal with him. you help him wash the dishes but he has to finish the rest of his week, simple enough since it is his responsibility. hell, when you saw the tower he placed in the kitchen you damn near tore his ear off dragging him back to his mess. what were you, his mother? maybe he just needed some house training, assuming he lived in some mansion with an unimaginable amount of maids.

leona’s chest rumbled and his ear flicked with discomfort, his lip twitching upward into a grimace. sparing him a glance, you bumped his hip with yours. “lighten up, its not that bad.”

“i think i just touched peanut butter. wet peanut butter.”

your stomach tightened and you instinctively pursed your lips to prevent the laughter bubbling in your throat. okay, maybe it was that bad. his tail flicked your leg in annoyance. he has to give you some credit, some. washing dishes wasn’t the most pleasing thing however he had to admit, you weren’t that bad of company. now he was the one stealing glances at you, emerald eyes roving across the expanse of your figure before finally settling on your face. easy on the eyes. he returned his gaze to his hands that were violently scrubbing a dish.

he even returned your gentle hip bump.

ITS LATE, TALK TO ME

MONTH II

he’s actually been in your room a few times, mostly when you’re out, so he can steal that comfy ass bed of yours. though tonight, its clearly different when the lion comes stumbling into your room and plops down on your bed. its weird, at first, but you slowly slid beside him and stared at the ceiling together. it wasn’t until you made some comment that started the late night, half-asleep talking.

“oh! that one dude,” you snap your fingers for remembrance, “ruggie, was it? does he actually eat dandelions?”

the vibes that radiated through your room is therapeutic. mood lighting, a person to talk to, and a dedicated playlist for this occasion. leona’s voice is rather calming with the slight hint of drowsiness, someone you would definitely pay to have a story read to you. he’s told you more about night raven; his acquaintances, not friends, what he’s studied. the college sounded like a lively place, unlike the boring shared apartment route. though, it is a little less boring now.

leona hums, your question quickly answered with acknowledgment. “yeah. he’s weird like that but he’s alive, thats really all i care about.” he says. his voice is soft and slightly deeper than what you’re used to hearing. it makes something in your chest constrict and tighten at the same time.

“he eats pumpkin seeds, don’t he?” you deadpan.

leona lets out a noise that sounded extremely similar to a laugh to which he, badly, attempted to cover up with a cough. you practically spring up, “are you.. laughing? did i just make you laugh? the leona kingscholar?” “nuh-uh.” the more you continued to shower him with this teasing, the harder it got to actually compose his grin, he’s already turned away from you. the look of pure mirth on his face is enough for you to forget what stress you ever had. in a weird way, you feel kind of privileged knowing that you were able to make him smile. you’d take this over any other day, perhaps you liked your new roommate.

OH LOOK, A CAFE !!

MONTH III

leona was actually contempt to take a small detour from your walk together, he really didn’t care where went. all he knows is that he needs a nap. you were actually looking for somewhere nice to sit down to help leona with his studies, the cafe down the street sounded like a decent date. study date. no one told him there were cats in there!

“how is it?” you ask smugly.

leona looks up from the table, a half glare shot at you as he sucks cupcake frosting from the pad of his thumb. he releases his thumb with a wet pop and a once over at his lips, “i like it as much as much as you like stealing my clothes.” then he pushed the cupcake into his mouth, his eyes flicking to his button up around your body.

you intertwine your fingers, resting your chin upon your hands. “it was in my dirty clothes basket, i washed it, therefore it is mine.” you quip back playfully, taking a sip out of your latte.

“it literally has my name sewn onto the back.” he counters.

“yeah, with the smoothest fucking silk i’ve ever felt!” he shrugged as to say no big deal but you knew he secretly liked it from the way he kept eyeing it, just not enough to admit vocally. you’re the only person he could tolerate wearing his clothes, so sue him for not being able to wear anything else in your house for some days until they got clean. “think about it; if you marry me, we’d share the same last name, eh? eeeh?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him.

he huffs, a playful smile gracing his features. “oh, you would just love that, wouldn’t you? have a little field day?” he raises an eyebrow as he takes another bite of cake, his voice full of mock amusement.

a brown cat hopped onto the table, your little corner now surrounded by the cute animals. almost all of them taking complete interest in your dear prince. rubbing their warm bodies against him as if they had been waiting their whole life for him to show up. one by one, they hop onto him, sniffing at his neck as if he were their food and he sat stiffly. you on the other hand indulged your one kitten with satisfying scratches under its chin, staring in pure adoration as a cat rubbed its face against leona’s cheek. you had to take a few pictures, it was a must have in your camera roll.

“papa cat with his litter of kittens.” you cooed softly as you snap another picture.

leona’s ear flicked in irritation, “cheka is enough.”

ITS SPA DAY !

MONTH IV

leona was already suspicious when you willingly lead him to your room, even more when you pat your lap. what is he, some cat? still laid down though, a win is a win. its crazy how comfortable he’s gotten with you. so comfortable, he’s letting you card your heavenly hands through his thick mane to pin it back for whatever substance you’re going to rub onto his face.

leona’s right eye spontaneously closed as you neared his face with a dropper, the glass tube smeared its cool continents on his cheek. “what’s this one? part ninety-nine of glass skin treatment?”

lord knows he doesn’t need it, he already has glass skin, it was just an excuse to poke n prod his squishy cheeks. you didn’t bother do answer, instead rolling your eyes and rubbing the serum onto his skin. its been what, twenty minutes? leona hasn’t fallen asleep, mostly because he’s staring at you. the dim lighting made your skin glow, made you glow. in the dark, you were a star that would have burned down by now if not for a miracle or magic spell, was he that spell? like an angel or an extraterrestrial. your stare was hypnotic. your stare made him forget everything around him, your gaze made him lose his footing. he felt himself moving forward and backward at the same time, the air between you became charged.

“you have a weird taste in roommates, herbivore.”

your hands pause at the curve of his neck, then move up to run through his thick hair. your touch made his skin flush, his breath hitch at a low frequency. you grin, “mm, yeah? is that right?”

his eyelids flutter at the feel of your thumbs rubbing over his temples, “you’re doing the thing again.” he breathes out. you chuckle, “the thing? the temple rubbing thing?” “your little thing, the smile and that voice thing.”

“ohh…” you roll your tongue against the roof of your mouth before smiling wider, “should i stop?”

he doesn’t respond right away, the moment stretches into minutes. he’s fading in and out of dreamland and wanting to stay awake for more of your touch. “jus’ a bit longer.”

RAINY DAY IN, MOVIE NIGHT ?

MONTH V

you two actually had plans to go to out but when opened the door for you just for it to be absolutely pouring outside, he settled for a movie. you got all the blankets while leona got all the snacks. what movie you both were watching? he doesn’t know, you make a phenomenal pillow though.

the tv was basically just murmuring, your vision unfocused as your hand absently played with leona’s hair. you knew that once he lied down, he was going to fall asleep. his whole weight flush against your body and cheek smooched into your chest, his tail swishing slowly showing he was awake in some way. you shift your head to look at him, catching a whiff of sweetness from his hair. some sadness settled in the pit of your gut. leona wasn’t always going to be here, he had to return to his studies and his royalty business. you couldn’t keep him even if you tried.

“did you fall asleep or are you upset, herbivore?”

his voice startled you out of your revere, you hummed in response, his words not quite processing correctly.

“your heartbeat slowed and you stopped playing with my hair.” he said as if it was the most obvious thing ever. you hadn’t even noticed you stopped stroking his head. you turn his head to hold his face in your hands, his eyes droopy from sleep. those eyes doing the unimaginable to your heartstrings. “you gotta to go back, don’t you?”

leona gives you a slow blink, his hand resting over yours. “‘course i do.” he yawns.

it was a really selfish thought, wanting to keep him forever. if you had the chance you would carry him in your pocket at all times.

“here,” leona removes his hand from yours, taking something from his pocket and holding it up for you to see. its a ring, its silver color catching the light from the tv. on his ring finger was a slightly bigger one, matching pairs. “its a promise ring.” he takes your hand from his face to slide it onto you but you pull your hand away. he’s confused at your reaction, looking at you like you’ve grown an extra head. your eyes are glossed over, tears forming. something was screaming that it was too early, that he was moving too fast. then your lips lifted into a grin, you laugh but they come out shaky. “its a promise ring, you gotta make a promise, leo.”

“you’re so sappy.” he frowns albeit the blanket of relief blanketing over his heart. he takes your hand once more, securely this time. “i promise to come back.” he places a kiss to the pad of your ring finger before sliding the silver band onto it, returning your hand to his cheek and pressing a firmer kiss to your palm. you watch the silver bleed into a rose color, a soft vibration in your finger when leona’s changed as well. you smile widely, tears streaming down your face. emotions flew and popped like fireworks throughout your body, uncontainable, freed. you laugh as he leans his forehead onto yours, wiping your tears with his thumb and letting out a few purrs of content.

“you’re really happy, huh? so happy you’re shedding tears for me?” “mmhmm, shut up. lemme enjoy this, enjoy you. please?” “as you wish.”

LAST, BUT NOT FINAL, GOODBYES

MONTH IV

welp, its time to say goodbye. you had your ups and— well, mostly ups, you never fought with leona. by the time you had helped leona pack his stuff and belongings, it was past noon. he looked the least bit of interested and you were doing most of the moving. in his own way of saying he doesn’t want to leave, he lazes on the couch and sometimes tugs you down with him.

“you’re sure you have your toothbrush, your expensive hair products, everything?”

leona let out a pained groan from the couch, his ring finger buzzing. “herbivore, you’re stressing.” your eyes flicked to the band on his finger, the color fading to a wine red.

he held his arm out to you, to which you inhaled, held it, then let it out through your mouth when you were under the warmth of his arm. “i know… i just want to make sure you don’t forget anything, leo.” your voice was muffled as you breathed into his chest.

“if i forget anything important, id buy a new whatever it is. you’d want it more though, for when you’re missing your better other half.” leona nudged his chin into your head and you visibly relaxed against him. he let himself sink into the softness of your body, wrapping his arms around you, his fingers trailing up and down your back in a soothing pattern. a thrum shooting through both of your fingers signaling a color change in the rings.

…then the sound of buzzing from the coffee table.

leona curses, apologizing as he reached to get it. taking a glance at the screen he sighs, patting your hip. “that’s my ride.”

he had already shipped off his heavy luggage to night raven so the only thing left to do was wish him off. its not the last goodbye, you’d see him again. only through a screen and through texts before he has his next break and can see you again. you stood on your front porch, shifting your weight from leg to leg while you worried your lip. he eyes you, slowly opening his arms just for you to pounce on him. enclosing your limbs around his body as tightly as you could, your face pressed into his neck, your hands gripping the fabric of his jacket. he chuckles, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “you better come back.” you mutter.

leona sets you down, wiping any incoming tears from your eyes. “i promised, didn’t i?”

your lips curl up in a watery smile. he pulls away from you, making his way to the car waiting in the parking lot. you had this stupid little grin on your face when you noticed the happy whip in his tail from the interaction. halfway to his ride, leona stops, turning on his heel and sprinting back to you, yelling that he had forgotten something. you were already beginning to scold him but was quickly silenced by his lips. he kisses you sweetly and with enough passion to rival that of the sun, his hand gently cupping your cheek, thumb running across the skin there. you lean forward, melting into the kiss, and the two of you finally separate after what felt like an eternity. his eyes are glistening, a slight sheen over them betraying his emotional state, but you had no qualms about kissing him, even after the short months. it still makes you dizzy when you see the love radiating from his eyes.

“you got a partner in six months? are you fucking kidding me?!”

you peek over leona’s shoulder, a boy with short fluffy hair and blue eyes, big hyena ears from his messy hair yelling from the car window. just like leona described him, ruggie. your prince kisses under your eye, his demeanor quickly changing as he faced ruggie. “you have no game, that’s all. don’t blame me for being simply better.” leona states calmly.

only when the car pulled off did you notice your ring beaming gold, magic swirling beneath the thick material.

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lakesbian · 8 months

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it's the moment like 4 of you have been waiting for:

i finally rotated pact creature design in my brain enough to post about it. to all the people who sent me asks wanting to hear my thoughts explaining Why Pact Creatures Are So Good this ones for you.

the core of pact's monster design boils down to one very good fact about pact's worldbuilding: in the world of pact, the universe canonically loves a good story. magic literally runs on themes and ideas. subsequently, strong themes aren't the end result of pact's monster design so much as they are the most fundamental aspect of it--meaningful themes and narratives are such a textually important part of how pact monsters work that one bogeyman outright tries to start a conversation with blake by, upon noticing the birdhouse in his soul (tm), asking if birds are important to him.

what really seals the deal on this being fascinating is that pact monsters aren't invented wholesale--a lot of the book hinges on offering its own explanations for preexisting folklore or urban legend. pact takes a variety of common threads in the way cultural myths & monsters are presented, picks out the conceptions with compelling implications, and distills them into one design so thematically coherent and clarifying that it makes you go "ohhh, why aren't All ghosts/dragons/fae like this? this is Exactly What They're Supposed To Be."

like, we all know that ghosts are dead people, and oftentimes the appearance and/or behavior they're written as having is either implicitly or explicitly based on reenactments of their past life/how they died, and sometimes they're depicted as lucid but more often than not they're depicted more like broken or warped remnants of a person, and sometimes they make things colder/give off Bad Emotional Vibes/etc. those are generally true assertions about how ghosts are often culturally presented.

pact takes that and explicitly declares that ghosts are what happens when something so bad happens that an imprint of the resultant misery is left on the fabric of the universe. some ghosts appear horrifying because their appearance is warped and exaggerated beyond what's realistically possible to match how awful whatever happened to them felt. some ghosts are more lucid because their imprint is more recent, or has been strengthened and fed by human attention instead of left to decay. some ghosts are less lucid because they were forgotten. when ghosts make the atmosphere feel awful to be in, that's because the ghost isn't just the imprint of the person, it's an imprint of the awful thing itself. incredibly interesting! it feels so very much like the absolute heart of what ghost stories are about--about the grief and horror of being impacted by the ever-present echo of something terrible, about something so viscerally wretched happening that reality itself cannot forget it, about the emotionally powerful interactions between someone still-living and the memory of someone already long gone.

(pact also gives an aside that, in very rare scenarios, neutral or arguably even positive occasions which leave a sufficiently strong enough impression can also become ghosts. genuinely fascinating expansion.)

& the thing here is that pact does this for creatures like ghosts that are already richly thematic and iconic, but it Also does it for creatures with less obvious theming. how do dragons work? what's pact's underlying explanation for their position as immortal, powerful, regal, fire-breathing* fantasy monsters?

*&, depending on the media, sometimes ice-breathing or poisonous or whatever else

well, you see, dragons are recursive loops. "dragons are recursive loops" is perhaps one of the Top All Time sentences in the entire book, and the delightful thing is that, in addition to sounding excellent, it makes sense.

that's how they generate and spit out so much of whatever their element is. they're snarls. they're ouroboroses. they're something feeding into itself, self-sustaining for thousands of years, drowning anything which threatens it in torrents of whatever the self-feeding element is--fire, sometimes, but it could be poison, or ice, or whatever else, and that's why you've probably heard of ice dragons in addition to classic fire dragons. Dragons Are Recursive Loops. recursiveness is, after all, a form of immortality.

or, like, fae? we all know that faeries are incomprehensibly old/outright immortal Tricky Little Bitches who like to manipulate people while posing in an inhumanly/horrifically beautiful fashion and going "teehee." pact takes that to a fantastically surreal level of extreme artifice, one that's almost grotesque in its dreamlike nature--they have all lived for so very long that, to them, boredom is worse than death, and so they have complicated social games spanning centuries, and speak in the most practiced of misleading wordplay, and perfectly curate their forests so that even the smallest pebble is an intentionally-chosen setpiece for their play. they graduated from handjobs a couple dozens of millennia ago--now they're more into erotic-poetic descriptions of full-body degloving. you will not notice when a faerie steals and replaces your child, because you are very young and stupid compared to them, and playing-pretend at being your child is only the briefest of trifles in their unfathomably long lifespan.

the other good bit is that pact explicitly acknowledges that faeries run on what is colloquially deemed Bullshit--the universe likes a good story, and faeries have gotten very good at telling it a moving story. if a faerie tells a good enough story about having a sword that breaks the laws of physics, then that is what their sword will do. and so the way to combat faeries is not to out-bullshit them--because no one is out-bullshitting a being with thousands of years of bullshitting practice--but to say "no, that's fucking stupid and made up" until their implausibly long sword acts like a sword of that size actually should and shatters on the spot.

& all of these writing decisions feel so naturally truthful to what these creatures are Supposed to be--they're really not wholly new takes, they're a presentation of preexisting ideas in a way that gets why those ideas appeal to people and goes full-throttle on all the most thematically rich or otherwise narratively interesting parts. It's Good Writing. I Like It. you could spend an entire essay breaking down the presentation of literally any single one of pact's creatures, it's that compelling in its reflection and organization of Ideas About Creatures.

#pact time #pact textpost #pactblr #<- fuck you we are dragging that into usage #parahumans #<- fuck you random pactpost event you should read it #pact creature design

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stevenose · 10 months

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altar (18+)

day 26/31 of the august writing challenge

today’s word: leaf

contains: steve x reader; top!reader, bottom!steve; gender unspecified reader; rimming (steve receiving); i think perhaps some corruption vibes?; a singular spank; dumbification

“You’re shaking like a leaf.”

Steve swallows and nods. He’s facing away from you, so you can’t see what he really looks like. You can imagine it, though. Pink cheeks and sweaty skin. Brows a little bit furrowed, nervous. Curious.

“I - I am,” he confirms with a little chuckle. “Not sure what you’ve got me doing this for.”

He’s on all fours, and you’re facing his ass. You’ve never quite been in a position like this with him. He’s anxious. He thinks he knows what you’re up to, which is anxiety inducing in itself.

“Just wanna try something with you,” you say, sitting on your knees on the soft mattress behind him. Your hands move to the expanse of his ass, gently massaging, and he sighs.

“Are you really going to do that?” he asks softly. You grin, thumbs moving inwards, pulling him apart. He gasps, fists at the sheets, holding them like they’ll protect his ego.

“Do what?” you ask lowly, leaning forward, eyes focused on the back of his head. His chestnut locks curl at the base of his neck and his shoulders tremble. “This?”

Steve shouts when you lick him, arching his back prettily. If only you could see his face. “Honey - th-that’s -“

“It’s what?” you ask, lips ghosting his asshole. He’s hardening and he doesn’t even quite know why. Everything about this should repulse him, but it doesn’t. “It’s dirty?”

You kiss his hole and he gasps again, then moans. “Unh - y-yes!”

“But it feels good, doesn’t it?” You lick gently and he moans again, pulling on the sheets. His head falls back as you lick him experimentally, running your tongue over his rim. “Listen to those pretty sounds, Steve.”

His moans are nonstop and high pitched. Needy. Needy as you’re gently with exploring him there, as your hand reaches around to just barely give him a handjob. He hates that he wants more, but he does. He grits his teeth and pushes back against you, trying to find more of your warm, wet tongue.

“What, Stevie?” you coo, continuing to slowly jerk him off. “Do you like it?”

He cries out as your tongue tapers and tries fucking his ass. “Jesus, yes!” he moans, fully sweating now, chest touching the sheets below. “Fuck, need more, please give me more.”

“More what? You want my hand to go faster?”

“Well - y-yeah, I - but I want you… too.”

“What was that, honey? You trying to ask me to eat you out more?”

He groans, cock throbbing in your grip. “P-please.”

“Say it, Steve.” A sharp smack to his ass makes him gasp and blush even harder. He feels hot, suffocating.

“W-want your tongue.”

You smile behind him. “I can either jerk you off faster or eat you out more. You have to pick one.”

He whines, torn and frustrated. “I - I -“

“You getting stupid on me, Steve?�� you pout, leaning forward to kiss his balls. “My mouth turning you dumb? All your blood rushing to this big fat cock?”

“Holy shit,” he moans, “More hand.” He only chooses it because he suspects it’ll actually get him off to have his cock touched, but he realizes rather soon he’d rather have your slutty tongue buried in his ass. Your kitten licks drive him mad, and his inability to admit what he wants drives him madder.

“Oh, Stevie,” you sigh, pulling back slightly, “it’s going to be such a long night for you.”

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #august23

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k-atsukibakugou · 2 months

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Mercury your event is SO cute I’m actually obsessed! I’m such a beer girlie, but if I had to pick a drink it’s gotta be a jägerbomb! And for the character you pick because I want you to be as free as possible I’m ready for anything👀

ehehehe i was a lil cheeky with this one, i leaned more into the leave you wanting more vibe with the jagerbomb also im sorry for the lack of beer i've never met a beer or cider i've liked LMAO i was going to make this endeavor but the more i wrote it the more it worked better with bakugou but i hope u like it!! teehee birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

anyone who wasn’t a couple jagerbombs deep could tell you how bad of an idea jagerbombs are at an work party, but when you work at one of the most popular bars in musutafu, it’s more a rite of passage.

not even here a year, your work-best friend was the very first to inform you of the notorious annual work party, how messy they get, how she’d gone home with the chef one year, and how many servers had crashed in the booths over the years. finally, the time had come for the party, your friend already abandoning you to flirt with the chef again, although, you couldn’t play the morally high act about it when all your attention was on your boss behind the counter.

walking behind the bar, you perused the liquor on offer, mostly mid-tier stuff, but god, did the imported stuff look good right about now, something smooth to take your mind off of him. fuck, why’d he have to roll his sleeves up like that? his forearm muscles enough to make you wonder what else lies beneath that damn shirt, an endless expanse of muscles underneath a wife-pleaser singlet, thick thighs caged in his expensive slacks.

“need some help?” lost in your daydream, bakugou is beside you before you realise how long you’ve been ogling him, your indecisive daze in front of the alcohol drawing his attention (any excuse to talk to you, really). you’re nowhere near drunk enough for him to be this close, to get this messy. yet.

“you don’t have my beer on tap.” his eyes nearly roll back at your sweet tone, your gentle teasing that’s been driving him up the wall for months. he stays steadfast, dark garnet eyes unwavering, despite the top you’d worn specifically for them to wander.

“let me make it up to you,” he takes another step closer, the expensive scent of his cologne filling your lungs when he reaches around you for the distinct green bottle, trapping you between his biceps for a fleeting moment, “we’ll do something i used to have in my party days.”

grabbing two pint glasses and two shot glasses, you watch him work with the kind of swiftness and expertise decades behind a bar could give a man, every twist of his wrist calculates, not a single drop of jagermeister or redbull spilling, even when the latter threatened to bubble over the top of the glass.

“you used to do jagerbombs?” you can’t help but sound incredulous, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline when you accept the drink from him. mesmerised as he pours his own, you try to imagine him younger, chugging back the bomb, swallowing shot after shot, stumbling home in the am. even in your daydream, his hair had speckles of salt through the blond of his hair, the silver fox look worked too well for him to see him any other way.

“why are you so shocked? i was twenty once.”

“it’s hard to imagine you… like that.”

“like what?”

“you know, a party animal, i can only see you drinking bourbon on the rocks.” he chuckles at the memories, of sleepless nights, of horrendous hangovers.

“i could still drink you under the table.” he challenges, already reaching to pour another, you try not to laugh in his face, the image of your all-powerful boss drunk and stumbling was something you’d pay to see. with a smile you could only describe as evil, hot, you clinked your drink with his before knocking it back, “sure you can, old man.”

after too many bombs, an assortment of other shots, some cocktail bakugou poured you and a sip (you weren’t game enough to have more of it, there’s a reason you weren’t a bartender) of the one you poured him, the pair of you stumbled into his office at the back of the bar. half the buttons are undone on his shirt, your hands sliding beneath the hem of his shirt even when he pulled away from you long enough to unlock the door, pulling you inside with him and nudge it closed once more before turning all his attention back to you; the way you stared up at him with glassy eyes, the way your lipstick smudged under your bottom lip, how your chest heaved (the way your tits looked when you did), how your dress rode up when you pulled yourself onto his desk, tugging him in by his belt loops.

he can’t even find it in him to care about the time-sheets crinkling under your ass when you bite your lip, can’t care you’re his employee and his mind goes blank of everything when you wrap your thighs around his hips. fuck, you’re irresistible like this; arching into him, kissing and biting his jaw, one hand tugging your dress further up your thighs, the other working off his belt to slide into his slacks, searching for more and more, more he wants to give you.

you’re just so, so, so hot… and he’s soft. he’s fucking soft. he finally has you under him and he can’t get it up.

let’s hope the alcohol buzzing through your blood is enough to clear your memory of this in the morning.

#mercurys birthday bash #「mercury answers」#「jo <3」#「kat <3」#「mercury writes」#tw: alcohol #bakugou drabble #bakugo drabble #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader

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agustdiv1ne · 11 months

Note

hi!! congrats on 3k <3

for the event, could i request taehyun + twilight + fluff/smut

tysm! and congrats again!!

NOW SHOWING...

pairing: kang taehyun x fem!reader

genre: fantasy/supernatural, fluff, smut

wc: 2.8k

details + warnings: mdni, vampire!taehyun + human!mc are not representative of any particular characters they're just vibing in the twilightsphere, taehyun (looks-wise,,) + mc are in their early twenties, sex in the great outdoors, dom!tae, sub!mc, mc is kind of a masochist LOL, light spanking (f receiving), praise, thigh riding, face sitting, tae calls mc: baby

note: thank you nonnie!! i hope you enjoy :))

you maybe, kind of, sort of hate the town that is forks, washington.

forks, in your honest opinion, is...painfully gray. clouds constantly hide the sun from view. it is almost always raining. fog is the norm, not the exception. the real cherry on top is how the town is blocked in and divvied up by expanses of creepy trees of which you have no desire to step even a single toe into. it's dreary, it's boring, it's weird — and it's just all too fucking gray.

you wonder what your life would be like if you had left while you could, if you had uprooted your life and attended college in some state far, far away, if you had gotten a degree and become a teacher or an artist or even some bigshot lawyer. maybe you wouldn't be wasting the years of your youth in your parents' little diner. maybe you wouldn't be stuck with the indelible expectation that said diner will be yours one day, hanging dark and heavy over your head like the storm clouds that loom over your house ninety-nine percent of the year.

then again, if you had left, you would never have met taehyun.

he moved into town when you were nineteen, an age at which you were hard-headed and bitter because everyone else your age had already moved on to bigger and better things while you were abysmally stuck like a tire in mud. you felt abandoned, alone, and you saw yourself in him because he, too, seemed to have no one else.

at the same time, you also thought he was a little strange — stoic, reserved, out at odd hours of the night — but you couldn't really judge, lest you sound like a raging hypocrite. you remember the first time that you saw him: it was well after midnight, you had just closed the the diner, and the streets were eerily empty — yet there he stood, across the street, turned away towards the tree line. he seemed to have been watching something in the woods, but as soon as he picked up on the crunch of your shoes against the gravel parking lot and saw you behind him, he fled, gone as quick as lightning. you almost thought that he was a figment of your imagination, that you were finally losing it after your nearly lethal consumption of caffeine that night.

however, after that incident, he began to show up during your shifts, sitting in the far corner of the small space for hours, answering your questions with curt nods and quiet hums. very real, very much not a hallucination. he never ordered anything other than a water, and his eyes often stayed trained on the woods that lay just outside the windows. watching, waiting (for what, you didn't know, but you didn't really care to find out). though the fact that he never once ordered something — not even a basket of fries, or a milkshake — irritated you to no end, but you bit your tongue like a good waitress had to and allowed him to sit there. not many people stopped by at such late hours, anyway, and maybe his presence cured some of your loneliness; he wasn't good company, by any means, but company nonetheless.

one particular night, a few months after he began to come in, things simply weren't going your way. if the argument between you and your parents before your night shift started wasn't enough, you burned your forearm when you accidentally spilled a pot of coffee and slipped and fell onto the unforgiving linoleum floors while carrying two plates of food. by the time he showed up, you were in the middle of a full-blown mental breakdown and could barely hold back tears as you greeted him at his normal booth.

“are you okay?” he had asked, his eyebrows furrowed, betraying his typically apathetic expression. in response, you burst into tears, apologizing as you attempted to run to the back, but he stopped you, his ice-cold fingers looped around your wrist. the sensation sent shivers straight down your spine, something that you can still vividly remember. you whipped around to face him. his wide, carob eyes cut through you with an intensity that you’d never experienced before. “sit. with me, i mean.”

“i-i’m working,” you choked out.

his lips formed a flat line. “no one else is here.”

“fine,” you mumbled, taking a seat on the other side of the booth. he had let you vent about everything and anything that plagued you, silent while he listened. the words he spoke once you finally exhausted yourself stick in your mind to this very day.

“it’s never too late to start carving your own path, y’know. you’re young, you have time.”

things changed after that night. a friendship bloomed, then a relationship began after about six months of knowing each other. things changed again, however, growing strange once you did begin dating. he made constant excuses as to why he couldn't sleep over and why you couldn't come over to his place; he didn't touch you often; and the weirdest of all his habits: he never, ever went anywhere near your neck, whether it be with his hands or his lips. loneliness and the acrid feeling of being unwanted returned in full force, nipping at each and every nerve within your body.

sick of it all, you eventually confronted him about it during a picnic date in a large clearing one evening. naturally, when your boyfriend admitted to you that he's a vampire — in the middle of the woods — and showed you his sparkling fucking skin, you were freaked the hell out. yet, in the end, it didn't scare you away, especially once he said that he only ever fed from animals he'd find in the woods. you cared for him just as much as he cared for you — human or not, you decided that you loved him either way.

(also, he'd always seemed a little off, other. maybe you were a little satisfied to know that you were right, but you'd never admit to that.)

nearly two years have passed since then, and while your feelings about forks haven't changed in the slightest, taehyun brings an ironic sense of life to the dismal little town.

“you’re staring.”

you feel your face heat up at your boyfriend’s words, your gaze immediately diverting away. you were not staring, no way. though he moves to find your eyes again, you maneuver out of his hold, now glaring at a spot on his shoulder. “no, i wasn’t.”

“aaand your heart rate just picked up.”

“you’re so unfair,” you hiss. “just— just keep your stupid vampire senses to yourself!”

he laughs, the sound light and melodic, as he attempts to wrap his arms around you again. you've turned away from him, arms crossed over your chest and in a state of faux despondency. he knows just how to press your buttons; the fact that he can pick up on each and every minute change of your heart rate and scent will forever be something that gets to you. you can't hide anything from him, and both of you know it.

you feel like you spend every waking hour with taehyun nowadays. if you're not working, you're with him doing fuck all just to spend time with each other, but even in the most mundane moments, boredom never becomes an issue. even right now, as you lay together in this small clearing in the forest, simply talking and staring up at the pewter clouds, everything feels...right? complete? you think that's the word that you should use — like the final piece being placed into a puzzle.

“c’mon, you can’t stay mad at me,” he goads. he blows into your ear afterward to make you flinch, earning a yelp in response. “you just make it so easy to tease you.”

“yeah, yeah. make fun of the defenseless human,” you sigh, turning back around to face him with pursed lips, delivering a firm poke to his forehead. “you’re lucky that you’re pretty.”

if he had said anything similar to you a couple years ago, you would've likely stormed off and ignored him for hours. you're not proud of how you once acted, but at least you've grown softer around the edges over the years. kinder, less resentful. and rather than tear your walls down, he scaled them slowly and met you at the top, took them apart brick by incorporeal brick as the trust between you grew, gentle and never prying.

one of his eyebrows raises. “pretty, hm? is that all i am to you?”

pretending to think, you tap your chin, your eyes shifting up towards the sky. you've grown softer, no doubt, but your witty edge refuses to disappear. how else could you keep up with him?

you make eye contact with him again, finding an expectant glint in them. you can barely bite back the smirk fighting to pull at your lips. “hmm...yeah, i think that’s about it.”

“you are such a brat, my god,” he groans, head falling against your chest. “is your life goal just to rile me up?”

“honestly? yeah. it’s just so easy to tease you,” you throw his earlier jeer straight back into his face, but the words are soon followed by a series of shrieks as he pushes you onto your stomach, unfazed by your feeble attempts to break away from his inhumanly strong hold. a hand leaves your wriggling waist to deliver a light slap to your ass. it’s careful, barely there. he knows how much more fragile you are compared to him, after all. the last thing he’d want to do is hurt you.

what he doesn't account for is the way you'd moan at the sensation.

a tense silence overtakes the air around you, the only noises remaining being the rustle of trees and the chirping of birds. you've all but buried your head into your arms. although your current position renders him unable to catch your flustered expression, your scent — fuck, your scent has changed, something heady and sweet and it's almost as if he can taste the lust and need rolling off of your form. your blood rushes faster beneath your skin, the erratic ba-bump of your heart loud in his ears. he pushes his base instincts down; he's better than this. he can't hurt you — he won't.

“you— did you like that?” he carefully asks, a gentle hand pressing into the middle of your spine. it’s not often you find each other in spontaneous intimate moments, mostly due to his fear of losing control, but your trust in him is immutable. in the span of two years, he has not once hurt you — but you still find yourself shaking your head in denial, the embarrassing heat gracing your cheeks keeping you from looking at him. he won’t hurt you, you know that, but that doesn’t change just how mortifying this moment is. you and him haven’t explored this part of your sexuality yet, the hidden side of you that enjoys a little pain amongst all the pleasure. it’s something that you’ve barely touched upon yourself.

taehyun, on the other hand, isn't satisfied with your answer. a morbid curiosity eats at his nerves, and he can't help himself from gathering you into his lap so that you straddle his hips. you are wearing a thick pair of jeans today, but it's not enough to prevent your scent from overwhelming his senses further due to your spread apart thighs. he steels himself, trying not to press the pads of his fingers into your hips too hard. you still refuse to look at him, your head hanging low and bottom lip tucked beneath your teeth. he brings a hand to your chin, tilting your head up. your eyes divert to his shoulder under his intense gaze.

“look at me, baby,” he orders softly. he watches a shudder run through you before you listen to him. the muscles of your throat contract as you gulp, though his expression remains neutral, his fingers squeezing your chin. “i’m going to ask you one more time: did you like that? did it feel good?”

inhale, exhale, nod.

his lips purse. “words, baby.”

“y-yes,” you whisper, weak and breathy, like you don’t want to admit it to yourself either. it earns you a quiet “good girl” and his thumb brushing over your lower lip.

taehyun stares at you for a moment before he asks, “do you trust me?”

of course you do, and you tell him just that, pulling a smile from him. “i want you to take your jeans and panties off for me, okay?”

you nod, rolling off his lap with shaky limbs and removing everything below your waist. the chilly air nips at your bare skin.

he takes no time in maneuvering you back onto his lap, legs straddling only one of his thighs now. you send him a questioning glance, with which he responds by rubbing soothing circles against your bare hips beneath your oversized sweater.

“get yourself off on my thigh,” he encourages. he doesn’t trust himself to be inside of you right now — he’s barely keeping it together as it is — but that won’t stop him from making you feel good.

you're silent as you take an experimental roll of your hips. the friction of your clit against the rough fabric of his jeans causes your mouth to fall open. you press your hands against his chest, grinding down again. and again. and again. the picnic blanket below you digs into your knees. taehyun grabs your hips a little tighter, beginning to help you move your hips faster, pressing you down harder. his grip is nearly bruising, but the ache that it brings renders you speechless, unable to speak besides the quiet gasps that you let out. quickly, you grow lost in the pleasure, the delicious friction against your clit growing more intense as the seconds tick by.

smack! taehyun brings a hand down against the swell of your ass, much harder than the teasing one he gave you earlier. you jolt on top of him with a loud moan, clenching around nothing. “tae— fuck!”

“yeah? what is it, baby?” he coos, slapping his palm down again. he’s barely breathing, monitoring your expression to make sure he’s not hurting you too much. but all he finds is pure, unadulterated pleasure, your head thrown back and your eyes fluttering as your movements grow more desperate. his head grows fuzzy at your strengthening scent.

“gonna— ‘m gonna cum, please,” you whine, nails now digging into his chest. you look like pure sin, with your flustered face and heaving chest and your glazed over eyes straight into his. “please please please—”

he can't take it anymore.

suddenly, your body careens through the air before you can even process it, your thighs now cushioning taehyun's face while he fully lays back. he gives you no time to complain of your ruined orgasm, his lips suckling your clit while his tongue circles the weeping bud. your hands grab at his hair, pressing down. there's no way that you can hurt him, so you allow yourself to grind down on his face like you did his thigh, using his face as your own personal toy. he gropes your ass all the while, pushing you further down against him until you smother him, ravaging you whole. you can no longer hold in your moans, and they only serve to spur him on. one of his razor-sharp teeth slides against your lower lips, and that's enough for your high to wash over you, your vision flashing white while you quake above him. he holds you up with strong hands, continuing to tongue at your clit until you're pushing his head away.

“tae, stop,” you beg while he cleans you up, ignoring your heightened sensitivity. “tae.”

“fine, fine,” he mumbles once he pulls his mouth away from your center. “can’t help it, you taste good.”

“quit being embarrassing,” you groan, your submissive tendencies all but gone. you struggle to lift yourself off of him and wiggle your jeans back on. he ends up helping you, patting your ass when you’re all done. you slap his chest, but you lean up and press your lips to his anyway. pulling away, you slide a hand under his sweatshirt. above, beams of sunlight break through the thick clouds, illuminating his skin. biting back a smirk, you rub a thumb over his cheek where it shines.

“take me home,” you purr. “we’re not done yet.”

you're careening through the woods moments later.

3k event masterlist | masterlist

#txt smut #taehyun smut #txt x reader #taehyun x reader #txt fluff #taehyun fluff #txt imagines #taehyun scenarios #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #agust.nsfw #3k milestone celebration #💌 — tyun

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fkmarrycill · 6 months

Text

One Shot: Pre-Gaming

(Pic added after the original post because it totally fits the vibe of the story. 😌)

1191 words, 🔞 for that smut

Notes:

Can you tell I'm really, really concerned about how our man will survive awards season? ☺️ I'm not sure if he'll attend any of the shows (really hope he does), or if he has any rituals for situations like this, but this is where my imagination took me. 😈

This is pure fiction, and in this scenario, Cillian is in a relationship, but not married and no kids. I read Cillian as an intelligent, decent, sometimes awkward guy who is also capable of being spicy when needed or desired. 😌

It's M/F dynamic, and I often keep the lady leads generic in description so more people can imagine along. 😉

Thanks for reading! ❤️

Cillian had gone silent. His arms were crossed, and he was staring out the window. Maybe he saw the city cruise by, or maybe he was too lost in thought to notice; she couldn't tell. All she knew was that he was relaxed at the hotel, but as soon as the limo door shut, his mood had changed.

She'd had her hand on his thigh for the whole ride so far. That subtle reminder of her support wasn't enough for him, she realized, but she knew what would be.

“Cill?” She addressed him gently.

“Mmm?” He responded absentmindedly.

Definitely lost in thought. “You need to relax. I'm going to make you feel better before we get there. Would you like head, or a quickie? Neither is not an answer.”

“That obvious that I'm fucking nervous, eh?” He chuckled in spite of himself. “Of course, I would’ve rather stayed home, but…” He trailed off and watched her kneel before him and begin to unzip and lower his tuxedo pants.

“What?” She said in response to his quizzical expression. “I thought maybe this would help you decide.” She looked up at him and winked. At this moment, she was glad she'd chosen the little black lace number instead of the gown with the train. She'd be able to move more freely for him, and it would be harder to mess up the dress.

“Now, what’ll you have, Mr. Murphy?” She placed her hands on his thighs and caressed them softly.

He glanced at the closed partition between them and the driver, checked his watch, and a mischievous grin bloomed on his face. He leaned forward. “Looks like we have plenty of time. Hmmm… Film award nominees tend to get special treatment, isn't that right? Give me both, love. Your mouth first, then that irresistible cunt.”

“Spoken with the confidence of a winner, whether it's tonight or another night. It's coming, either way.”

“Just like me, in a matter of moments, thanks to you.” He tried and failed to stifle a laugh. “Christ, we sound like some dreadfully unimaginative 70s porn! Let's stop talking, before we turn each other off.”

“Excellent idea.”

Both of them laughed, partners in crime with the same sense of humor.

She gave him one last affectionate smile, then began to caress his thighs with long, soft strokes that made him shift on his seat. She traced the same path with her lips, on one thigh, then the other, nuzzling the expanses of skin.

He turned the volume up on the music, in anticipation of giving in to wherever she led him. She stretched herself higher and loomed over his lap, then tugged at his underwear. He shifted on the seat to help her efforts in removing her last barrier. He placed his hands on her head and squeezed softly, a gentle request for the warmth of her lips on his hardened, eager cock.

He groaned softly as her lips surrounded his girth and her hands connected with him, and he hissed, eyes shut tightly, when she teased the sensitive underside of his dick with her tongue.

His million-dollar face contorted–jaw clenched, brow furrowed, nostrils flared, full lips parted–as he savored her work. By then, she had taken more of him in, feasting on his length with her enthusiastic licking and sucking.

He began to grind his hips, arching into her mouth to feel her deeper and more intensely.

She loved seeing him like that, focused on the sensations, thoughts as far away as possible from cameras, paparazzi, and all the sequined and bow-tied cogs in the Hollywood machine–everyone they'd be unable to escape for hours once they left their mobile love nest. Giving him release was the least she could do for him. She was well aware of all the effort and sacrifice he put into his celebrated performance as Oppenheimer, and she thought he deserved to be in the right mood to enjoy his moment of recognition, win or lose.

She knew she was wet already, from the way her body throbbed in excitement. She had one more ace to play, one more thing to share that would push him past the point of no return. “I was going to surprise you later,” she murmured conspiratorially, “but this will give you something else to think about in your seat…”

He watched her through glazed, darkened eyes as she climbed into his lap, hiked her dress, and sank down on him, inch by inch.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped. “No fucking panties… Are you trying to kill me?”

“No, babe, I'm just trying to fill your head with good thoughts before we get there.” She rolled her body at a brisk pace and kissed him deeply.

He grasped her hips and overtook the pace of her thrusts, writhing against her in a controlled manner that made both of them wail. She rocked into him and edged closer to being completely undone.

One of his hands crept up to the small of her back, while the other meandered down her leg to find her clit, which he massaged the way she loved, ratcheting up her cries in the process.

Their rhythm quickened some more. A lock of his hair fell down, toward his eyes, and she brushed it back into place. She desperately wanted to clutch her hands in his hair, like she normally did, but quickly nixed the idea, remembering the effort that had gone into his sophisticated look. There'd be plenty of time later for reckless behavior, she thought–on the ride back to the hotel, or in the bed, regardless of whether they were celebrating or preparing to return to their usual pace of life.

“Oh, fuckkkk…” His breathing was shallow, and his face flushed as his eyes rolled back. “I'm gonna…”

“Me, too, baby,” she said, equally breathless. The tightness that had built up at her core gave way to waves of bliss, and moments later, Cillian tensed as his own climax tore through his body.

He held her in a tight hug and kissed the top of her head while they caught their breath.

After a while, she moaned contentedly and looked up at him. “Feeling better, Cill?”

“You have no idea, lass. Thank you.”

“Anytime, my dear, beautiful boyfriend.”

He kissed her softly, then looked at his watch. “We should be there soon, better get ourselves back together as best as we can.”

They scrambled to straighten up and return to their initial positions in the car.

“You know,” started Cillian, as they rounded the corner to the venue, “At some point tonight, when I can't stand it anymore, I'd love to steal away with you to a bathroom or somewhere else that we can be alone…”

“I like the way you think! But what if we get caught?” She gathered her purse and prepared to exit the limo.

“I think ecstatic award winner caught fucking his girlfriend will be much better for my brand,” he said with air quotes, “than those pics of me pissing on the side of the pub, don't you think?” He winked and kissed her passionately.

Before she could respond, he opened the car door and they emerged. They were quickly besieged by camera flashes, and the huge smiles on both their faces were real.

#cillian murphy #oppenheimer #fan fiction #my writing #short story #one shot #fkmarrycill library

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k-dokja · 11 months

Text

Wow, it has been a year since I last wrote something for him.

Summary: Your relationship is strange and perplexing. Neither of you mind it, it's no one else's business.

There is a line.

A clear line between you and Jonggun that you’ve accepted from the day you were introduced to him. The line which serves to be an invisible barrier between the two of you, thinner than thread but thick enough to keep the two of you from crossing it.

You can’t say you care for it. Not when you have no intention of crossing the line. Jonggun, however, does whatever he wants and he seldom thinks about the consequences of his actions if what he does bring him personal gratification. Because of that, on more than one occasion, you’ve seen him toeing the line, having a whole foot over even. You always patiently watched to see what he will do next, but after the third time this happened, you came to the conclusion that he only wanted to see you hold your breath in anticipation.

Afterwards, you stop caring.

While formality dictates that the two of you need to be faithful during your engagement, he cannot care less about it and the idea is appalling for you. Neither of you cares enough about the other to need some misguided loyalty. Even if you did, you doubt you’d ever receive it from him. You save yourself the grief by never bothering to care about it. He doesn’t have a problem with his freedom either. All is well in the world.

Until it isn’t.

“So, what are you to him, anyway?”

Joongoo, too nosy for his own good, always has a way to squirm his way into matters that shouldn’t be his to care about. You don’t really mind. You never bother to make sense of him, he’s useful enough that all of his downsides stop being a problem.

Tolerable enough that sometimes it amuses you to entertain him.

“Business partners,” you reply without glancing up from your phone. It wouldn't be your first choice to spend your free time lounging around with Joongoo, but there are worse options, you guess.

“Naur,” Joongoo says, “I’m business partner with him, business nemeses-with-benefits depending on days, but you are not his business partner.”

You glance at him. Trying to figure out what’s going on his pretty little head is a fool’s errand. You don’t even know where his nonsense begins and where his sense ends. At least, you aren’t so busy that his probing would become a bother.

“Pardon?” You say. “Him and I, we have common business ventures and same goals for expansion. What would we be if not business partners?”

Joongoo clicks his tongue, “You people sleep with your business partners?”

You snort, more amused by his misunderstanding than offended. “We aren’t sleeping together.” If this has been a year ago, you’d have said you don’t know where he gets the idea from. At this point in time, however, you’ve weathered enough people getting the wrong idea that his assumption sounds trivial to your ears.

“Aren’t you?” Joongoo asks, “Then what’s this weird vibe I’m getting from you two?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” you resist smirking, you truly do, “what’s this exact vibe you see in us?”

He shrugs, “Dunno, like, you’re too comfortable with each other and shit,” he says, “either you’ve done the tango naked or something else is going on here.”

“I like your imagination. Very vivid.” You narrow your eyes at him but say nothing more about it. The discussion alone is silly and entertaining him for this long is the extent of your generosity.

"You know I'm right," he grumbles, "Even if you aren't sleeping together, there's something there. You'd be lying if you said there isn't."

You've returned to your phone by this point, and your attention to him is torn in half but at least you continue to answer, "Well, of course there's something there. We're engaged to be wed and until either of us found it enough of a nuisance to break the engagement off, we're bound by this thin thread of obligation we cannot care less for."

"Is that what you think?"

A third voice. Masculine. Familiar, and deeper than Joongoo's. You don't even need to look up to see Jonggun entering the room. You don't have to see him to know what face he's making either. Utterly impartial and mildly amused, the bare minimum of expression.

"Isn't it the truth?" You say. "Pretending otherwise would only be kidding ourselves."

Jonggun stops behind you, his hand is set on the back of your chair. He dips low enough that when he speaks, you feel his breath fan against your ears. The only indication that it affects you is the slightest twitch at the corner of your mouth. One you doubt he can see but know it's there anyway.

"And what if I want otherwise?"

You turn to level your eyes with his, your smile saccharine sweet. "If you wish for an early death then you should take the matter into your own hands, don't involve me in it." With that said and done, you go back to your phone, and your interest in the entire conversation vanishes.

"You're sure she's the nicest one out of us?" Joongoo drawls.

You don't need to see to know Jonggun is smiling when he says next, "Was there ever a doubt?"

#park jonggun #park jonggun x reader #lookism x reader #lookism #fics

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forgeofthenine · 7 months

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SO! I found this super sweet and amazing song! Home to me from Moss. Its lyrics reminds me of the Shadowlands and it got my brain rot thinking, what if the partner of Dammon or Zevlor finds them after getting separated while in that veritable hellscape? They reunite and everything is hunky dory (almost)! The partner sees that they are struggling and sings this song to comfort them after everything that has happened. (here is the link so you don't have to go digging into Youtube!) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXg6QC3ZQAk

Thanks for the request Anon, I really loved listening to the song and it absolutely gives major Shadowlands vibes. I ended up picking Dammon because my brain kind of clutched onto a specific vision I guess? Either way, I hope you enjoy, I loved writing a bit of comfort for my favourite Tiefling blacksmith :)

The fic isn't too heavy on the angst, reader is gender neutral but is not Tav and is a tiefling.

Home to me

All that runs through your head is thoughts of Dammon. Even knowing he must be beside himself with worry, the mere thought of him is comforting.

You find yourself pressed tight against Lakrissa, the other tieflings arms holding you as firmly as she can, your own tail wrapped tight around her ankle. The echoes of your captors footsteps and the dripping of water turn monotonous as the days pass by. It's too hard to keep track, and soon your group stops trying.

The small group of you fall into a steady silence, all finding companions to clutch and memories to cling to, the only relief you can find in your captivity.

After an eternity, all of you are startled back to reality as a familiar hero comes to stand on the other side of the metal bars, a grin on their face as they find almost everyone alive and merely trapped.

Stepping over the guards dead bodies, trekking through underground tunnels, sailing over a murky black lake with wild shadows lurking at the edges, your journey back to safety is almost as treacherous as the same one leading to your unwanted stay in Moonrise towers.

It's only once you all step foot on solid, safe ground that everyone is able to let out a sigh of relief.

Tearful reunions are all around you, Lakrissa and Alfira wrapped as close around each other as they could, Rolan attempting to hold both his siblings despite the way his body shakes with relief. Once again, the only thing on your mind is a certain blacksmith.

It hardly takes any time to find his new open air forge, well away from the dock you first arrived on. It almost feels like you're in a dream, seeing the expanse of his back as he works at his anvil.

You don't mean to sneak up on him, the ringing of his hammer hiding the sound of your steps crunching in the gravel. The sound of your voice calling to him is what makes him pause, hands letting go of everything he holds when he turns to see you. Whatever he's working on clatters to the floor as he sweeps you up and off your feet entirely, just holding you not enough for him.

You can feel the wet tears pooling and running down the skin of your neck, Dammons face nestled between your jaw and shoulder. It's hard to stop your own tears from falling, hands desperately grabbing for a hold on him.

It takes hours for you to calm Dammon, his hand or tail never leaving your skin for fear you might slip from his grasp again. Even after days you can still see how the worry creases his face, how his eyes linger on you when he thinks you don't notice. As the others settle back into their new normal, and plan for the best way to bring death to Ketheric Thorm, you notice how Dammon seems to stay stuck.

Night falls again, and with it you fear Dammon will find another sleepless night. It's clear he can't keep living like this. Your hands pull him down to rest against your chest, trying to calm him with the soft rumble of a purr building in your chest. Tails intertwine as you refocus his attention on you now, safe and happy in his bed.

Calloused fingers trail patterns over your skin as the silence breaks, a soft melody leaving your lips. "Darkness falls across land, sky, and sea. I can hear your call, calling back to me..."

Only once you sing for him, holding him so desperately close to you, do you see his eyes fall closed and feel his breathing even out against your chest.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 dammon #baldurs gate 3 dammon #dammon x reader #baldurs gate 3 x you #bri answers

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