#and spins last longer and grow in intensity over time

[bluuedraws]

What’s this? A new fic? Yes, yes it is.

Chapter One

Slam!

Xelqua flings the door closed behind him, shaking fingers fumbling for the lock as he quickly glances around. He’s panting hard, chest heaving as he bends over, hands on quivering knees. He doesn’t rest long before he lowers himself to the ground, wings splaying out behind him, nearly falling over in the process.

He has to be quick. He can’t be caught. 

If he is, it’s over.

Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves, Xelqua opens his Eyes. They snap open immediately, effortlessly. It’s as natural as breathing. He can still remember when it was the hardest thing he’d ever done, taking him months to learn how to keep them open for longer than a second. Now, it’s second nature.

Xelqua shakes his head once, shutting down the memories as quickly as they came. He doesn't have time for this, not now. Not when They could find him at any moment.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Ignore the fluttering in his stomach.

(Wham!)

Again, he opens his Eyes, but this time with a concentrated intensity. Worlds upon worlds stretch out before him, tickling his fingers as he reaches out a hesitant hand.

Which one, which one…

(Wham!)

His teeth grind together, anxiety sparking through his chest as he looks faster, scanning worlds with a growing panic. All of them are multiplayer and heavily populated. No, no that won’t work, he needs a single player world, one where he can hide properly-

(Wham!)

Fingers dance in the air, Eyes flicking back and forth frantically. Xelqua can feel his rising anxiety, growing and expanding in his chest. His breaths are short and quick, barely audible even in the silence of the room. 

…the previously silent room, that is.

Xelqua jerks his head up as the sound registers, ringing in his ears and heart in his throat. The door flies off its hinges, crashing to the ground mere inches from his left wing. It’s smashed to pieces, and as Xelqua spins around, he realizes who has found him. Swirling purple magic greets him, and he’s slammed against the wall with such force he’s left breathless.

No, no no no nonononono-

“O⍑, ||ᒷᓭ” a voice whispers in the darkness. “What a pathetic attempt, Xelqua.”

“Go away!”

He screeches and lunges for the worlds, still visible in front of him, dancing just out of reach. He no longer cares which one he chooses, just so long as it’s far, far away from here so he’ll be safe-

A hand catches his outstretched arm and flips him sideways, slamming him to the ground. Xelqua rolls away, shoulder aching and arm spiking with pain, but the adrenaline pumping through his body refuses to let him sit still. He lunges again, but is met with glowing talons that slash his face, his arms, his chest, and pin him to the ground in a spray of blood.

“ᓭℸ ̣ 𝙹!¡ ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ! This is not a battle you can win!”

The claws tighten as blood drips down his arm, his face, into his eyes. Everything is red and Xelqua can’t breathe, he can’t move but he has to, he needs to get out get out GET OUT-

“I ∴𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ! I WON’T GO BACK, I WON’T!”

The Galactic escapes him in his panic, and Xelqua kicks the thing off his chest, pushing magic into his legs to fling them farther. He leaps forward, half blind and body screaming in pain as he desperately reaches for a world, any world, he just needs to LEAVE.

His hand grabs something, and he clutches it to his chest tightly, desperately, as if it’s his very own soul and he won’t lose it again, he won’t-

But the world resists, deflecting his every attempt to get in. Whoever this world’s admin is, they’re a powerful one. Panic rising in his chest, Xelqua slashes at the wall that keeps him out, ripping and shredding until there’s a hole big enough for a person to slip through. He feels his pursuer nearby, mere seconds away from discovering his escape, and his heart leaps into his throat.

No no NO NO NONONONONO-

With a last desperate tear, Xelqua flings himself through the hole, his body on fire and tears streaming from his eyes.

He’s falling, falling fast, and he can’t tell what’s up or down, whether he made it through or was caught, just seconds from escape. The world fades from black to white to a sudden burst of color, and he shuts his eyes against the blinding light engulfing him. His head spins, everything spins, a twisted rollercoaster that he can never get off of. He feels sick, so sick, his head about to split open from the pain of the never ending fall. The world fades, everything fades, his body feels heavy and light at the same time, floating in the air.

Xelqua sighs, and lets himself drift into the black.

.

.

.

Xisuma has never seen anything like it before. He peers closer to the screen in front of him, hands frantically typing as he stares at the lines of code that are dissolving in front of his eyes. It’s as if something is tearing open the firewall, destroying the code that the admin had put so much time and care into to keep his hermits safe. Xisuma had thought he’d done a pretty good job, but fear sparks through his chest as he watches… watches something break its way in effortlessly, shredding his precious code to pieces.

He works with unmatched concentration, fighting against the thing forcing its way into the server, but it was a losing battle to begin with. Xisuma can barely keep it out 5 minutes before, finally, it shatters the last barrier between them. 

“Shit!” The curse surprises him, causing him to stumble as he springs to his feet. He’s not usually one to curse, but honestly? It feels appropriate. Xisuma grabs his communicator and hurriedly types out a message to the group.

>>Xisumavoid<<

Emergency meeting at spawn, now. Everyone needs to be there. Something just broke through the firewall, so be on your guard. See you soon.

He ignores the immediate storm of shocked responses, instead shoving the console deep into his pocket, strapping on his elytra, and rocketing out of his base. He has to be the first to spawn. There’s a small chance the intruder would have appeared there, despite their unceremonious entrance to the world. If there’s any chance it’s hostile, Xisuma isn’t going to put any of his hermits in danger because of his failure. This is his problem, and he needs to solve it. As the admin slowly descends from the sky, he can make out two figures standing below him. Anxiety spiking, Xisuma quickly drops to the ground to see Scar and Mumbo already there, and deep in conversation. Relief fills him as he realizes they’re alone..

It doesn’t seem to be anywhere nearby…

“Hello Mumbo, Scar.” Xisuma lands with a soft thump beside the pair, startling Scar despite his soft touchdown.

“Oh! Xisuma, you scared me!” Scar’s bright laughter helps calm his nerves a little, bringing a bit of calm back to his thoughts. Honestly, just standing near Scar is an incredible cure for his anxiety. The man is so bright and bubbly, one of the kindest people you’ll ever meet. Xisuma has never met anyone quite like him before. 

“Sorry Scar, but I must admit I have a few things on my mind right now, so I might not be very attentive at the moment.” Xisuma smiles apologetically before quickly checking his communicator for any updates. 

It looks like everyone will be here soon.

“Yeah, about that X. What on earth do you mean something broke through the firewall? You can’t just say that and then go silent!” Mumbo fiddles with his hands, obviously nervous. His mouth is twitching as he fixes the admin with an anxious gaze.  “Isn’t the wall supposed to be hacker-proof?”

Xisuma sighs, hand reaching for his hair but blocked by his helmet. He tries to pass off the movement as if he was just brushing something off as he thinks about how to answer. 

“Yes, I thought so too. But I should save the explanation for when everyone is here. Better to only explain it once, that way we have more time.”

After a moment's hesitation, Mumbo reluctantly nods in agreement. The three of them sit in silence until more players begin to arrive, filling in the courtyard and chattering nervously. When it’s finally clear that everyone had arrived, Xisuma clears his throat and steps forward. Immediately silence settles over the crowd as all eyes turn to him.

“Hello all, thank you for coming on such short notice. I have some worrying news for you all. Something has broken into the server.”

This much is already known, although the confirmation does warrant a few gasps. Intrusion on a protected server such as this is practically unheard of. Xisuma is honestly surprised that no one is panicking yet. Even anxiety riddled Mumbo has managed to keep calm, with the help of Scar and a few other Hermits. Xisuma continues.

“I watched myself as whatever it is absolutely destroyed the firewall and slipped into the world. We don’t know whether they’re hostile or not, so please, everyone, be careful. I’ll need volunteers for patrolling, we’ll have to set up guards around the clock until we find this thing.”

Almost immediately after the words have left his mouth, several hands are raised. Xisuma nods his thanks to them before addressing the crowd.

“Thank you for the immediate volunteers. Scar, Keralis, Mumbo and Ren can patrol first. Pick any area nearby, and search it thoroughly. After a couple hours report back to me. In the meantime, I’ll be working on finding out anything else I can. Be careful, everyone. Stay vigilant.”

With that final note, Xisuma ends the meeting with a sigh. He feels exhaustion sweep over him, but he keeps his shoulders back and chin up. Showing weakness now would only spark fear. Xisuma walks over to Scar and Mumbo, the first to arrive and the last to leave. He gives them a small smile, before saying, “You be careful, ok? Don’t be afraid to ask me for help.”

“We know, X, but the same stands for you, alright? Don’t worry yourself to bits when we can help.” Scar fixes him with a stern glare, and Xisuma cracks another smile, nods, and turns. It’s time to go home.

He has a long night of coding waiting for him.

.

.

.

Something soft brushes against Xelqua’s face, swishing against his his jaw and tickling his nose. The feeling is so nice, so out of place from his usual life that he nearly lets himself fall back into the comforting blackness he’d been floating in just moments before. He lays there, relishing in the feeling, when suddenly pain spikes through his body. His eyes shoot open and he sits up with a gasp, frantically glancing around. The sudden movement sends more waves of pain through his body, and he winces again, bringing a tentative hand up to his cheek. It comes away red.

Xelqua quickly opens his Eyes and surveys himself, taking in every cut and bruise. His forehead has a relatively shallow cut on it, but seems to refuse to close. Blood still drips from the gash, pooling against his cheek and dripping down his cloak. His arms are marred with deep cuts, still trickling blood. He has quite a few bruises, but nothing seems broken, thankfully. His worst wound, however, is the one on his chest. It’s deep, very deep, and the constant stabbing pain causes his eyes to fill with black dots. Xelqua pants on the ground, clutching the ruined fabric of his robe against his chest in an effort to relieve some of the pain. It does nothing, of course, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the agony.

Where am I?

He’s sitting in a field, grass pressed against his legs and the sun shining down upon him.

Oh, the sun. How he’s missed the sun.

Obviously he’d managed to escape, or else he wouldn’t have waken up in the first place. He should be glad to feel anything, even pain. It means he’s alive.

But how long would he stay that way? How long until They found him again? The thought forces him to his feet despite the pain, and he stands there, panting and holding his chest, wings drooping against the ground, too exhausted to do much else. Move. He has to move. If he can find somewhere safe, he can rest, he can plan. Safety first, questions later.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Xelqua places one shaking leg in front of the other. He’s moving, very slowly but honestly? Who cares? As long as he was getting closer to safety.

What felt like hours, maybe years of pain-filled steps and heaving breaths, Xelqua finally spots a cave in the distance, overgrown and covered with vines. Shelter. With what feels like the last dregs of his strength, he hauls himself to the entrance and drops to the ground, too tired to move even an inch further. His eyes close, limbs still against the cold rock.

He hopes he’s hidden enough here, because there’s no way he’ll summon the strength to move again. Even now his thoughts are slipping away, falling back into that peaceful nothingness he’d come to treasure so much. He sighs, one last thought drifting through his head before he loses consciousness.

I made it.

Hope you all enjoy <3

Many thanks to @desertduality for the advice and support! Yes, I was the desperate anon begging for advice xD

Your support meant the world, and even though this chapter is fairly short, I’m so proud of how it turned out ^^

#fan fiction #Writing #Grian Watcher lore #Grian is Xelqua #Goodtimeswithscar #Gtws #Convex Scar #hermitcraft #Hermitcraft season 6 #minecraft #Mcyt #desert duo #Scarian #Xisuma #Keralis #mumbo jumbo #Rendog

[ughitsnic]

Jealous: Robin Buckley x Reader

Kinda angsty which I don’t normally do but I liked how it turned out. And it’s way longer than I normally write. My requests are also still open.

Warnings? Language and alcohol, let me know if I missed anything

Robin stood back from everyone, leaning against the wall, holding her drink close, her hand resting over the top of her cup. Normally after a couple of drinks she would join in with everyone dancing and singing, but not tonight. The room began to grow increasingly unbearably hot, her chest felt tight.

“Fuck” she mumbles, finishing her drink in hopes it would cool her down. She runs her fingers through her hair, moving it away from her face, never once letting her gaze sway from you… and Steve.

Robin would be lying to her self if she said she wasn’t jealous of the past between you both. The short lived relationship between yourself and Steve was intense, both of you falling hard, taking everything too fast and what ever romance it was there, fizzled out by the end of the summer. But Steve and you were still best friends, which robin couldn’t understand. The way you were pressed up against him and how his hands roam your body didn’t exactly scream best friends. You and Steve were perfect for each other in her eyes, you were the same people, the same silly egos, same sense of humour, same friendship group in school. She could never be what you needed her to be, she could never be Steve.

You can’t remember the last time you fully let lose and let your self enjoy a party, the room was humid and a thin layer of sweat coated your body, the sensation of the bass in your chest was making you feel nauseous in the best way possible. Steve spins you around, so you were facing each other, he leans in towards your ear.

“Do you want another drink?” He shouts over the music. You quickly nod.

“Surprise me” you shout back. He pushes past people leaving you to dance by your self, your hands in the air.

Robin envied how carefree you were in this moment, whilst her anxieties were eating away at her insides. She watched how you moved your hips, lost in the moment. She knew she couldn’t, but she watched how your boobs bounced in the little black dress.

You had just spotted robin, and you stumble passed everyone.

“Where have you been?” You rest your hand on her arm.

“Outside, it’s too hot in here” she tells you.

“Maybe because you’re wearing so many layers?” You tug at her sweater, lifting up the hem. “Take it off, come dance with me, Steve is a terrible dancer” she pulls it over her head, placing it on the back of an armchair,running her fingers through her hair smoothing her wavy hair. You reach over, unbuttoning the top few buttons, your fingers brushing against her soft skin. Her cheeks were pink and you could feel the head radiating off of her. “Better?” She nods and you take her hands, pulling her back over to where you previously were. Robin gives your hand a little squeeze.

“I love this song!” She shouts, some prince song playing that you didn’t know that well, but you sway your hips. You wave Steve over, with your drink.

“Where have you been, Buckley?” Steve shouts. He looks down at your hands, that we’re still intertwined. “I thought we were dance partners” you quickly finish your drink, passing him the cup.

“She’s a better dancer though stevie” you joke, looking back at robin giving her a big smile, you take Steve’s drink giving it to her.

“I get it” he rolls his eyes. “Robins replaced me, I know when I’m no longer welcome” you watch a small smile tugging at her lips and Steve walks off, probably to get another drink. You watch as she does the same, gulping down whatever Steve was drinking, putting the cup on the coffee tree.

Robins heart was racing, as you danced for what felt like hours, sharing each others body heat.

“So, are you and Steve a thing again?” Robin knew the alcohol talking, because normally she would play it off as not caring, but she really did care, maybe a little too much. “Because I don’t think you’re a good match… in a relationship” you knew it was the truth, but you wanted to know her reasoning behind it.

“What do you mean?” You stop dancing, trying to figure out the expression on her face, you had never seen it.

“You deserve better, Steve is- great but…” you couldn’t hear the rese over the music.

“I can’t hear you”

“What?” You sigh, pulling her out onto the patio, the music still loud, but you could almost hear yourself think out here.

“I couldn’t hear you, all I heard was Steve is great but that's it” you laugh. She shrugs, kicking a plastic cup out the way

“I just think you need someone different” she trails off. Robin was right, you were too similar but you were curious why she thought this, maybe she knew someone?

“Do you know someone better?”

“Actually- actually I do, you know them, she- fuck HE’S cool?” She questions her self, her words slurring. You tried not to focus on her world choice too much, after all this might be the drunkest Robin Buckley has ever been in her life. She lets out a long sigh, blowing her hair out of her face. You knew Robin liked girls, she cried when she told you and you didn’t know what to do other than hug her. You couldn’t find the words to tell her you did also. You never wanted it to come across as you were trying to invalidate her.

“Maybe I should go talk to, him” you put extra emphasis on him.

“He’s not here” her words were sharp, which took you back.

“No?” You could see her getting more and more frustrated at the whole situation.

“No, but you could have any guy in there y/n, just look at you and” she motions to your body. “Fuck” she laughs, but nothing was funny. She runs her face. “I’m- im going to go”

“Where?” You grab her forearm.

“Home” Robin pulls away from your grip but you follow her.

“Robin, wait” you push past a group of girls trying to keep up, it didn’t help the flashing lights were making it hard to see and your head spin. You run and grab her sweater before she could, in an attempt to stop her.

“Don’t go!” You shout

“Why? Go to Steve you were both having a great time without me” Robin shouts rolling her eyes.

“Are you jealous right now? Seriously?” she doesn’t bother trying to take her sweater off of you, she just stands quiet. “You’re my best friend too!” You shout over the music. “I love you both!” You continue

“That’s the problem” she snaps. You didn’t get it, she was also best friends with Steve, so he couldn’t be the problem?

“Is it me?” You were scared of the answer.

“Yes” as soon as she blurted it out she covered her mouth and your tears were stinging your eyes. Shit. Shit. Shit. You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep it together. God you were so stupid. She didn’t even like you as a friend, she was just putting up with you because you were with Steve and now you had broken up? She didn’t want you around anymore?

“Y/n” she reaches for you.

“Go fuck your self” you forcefully shove her sweater into her and run to the bathroom, trying your very hardest not to breakdown crying infront if everyone, you didn’t need to add anymore humiliation to the situation because then you could never show your face in Hawkins. You slam the door behind you, choking out a sob. You felt stupid, not even five minutes ago you thought maybe she would tell you she liked you but it was the complete opposite. Abrupt banging at the doors snaps you from your thoughts.

“Yo, hurry up!”

“Fuck off” you didn’t know who was behind the other side of the door and you didn’t care to find out. You tried your hardest to calm your self down, you’re entire body shaking. You needed to find Steve. You impatiently wait for the guy to leave before opening the door. The room was spinning and you couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Have you seen Steve?” you ask anyone you could find but they all motioned in vague directions, or just giving you a shrug backing away. You catch your reflection in the hallway, cringing, your make up smeared and mascara running down your cheeks. You take a deep breath before opening the bedroom doors. “Steve” your voice cracks, empty. You try the next one, hoping there wouldn’t be anyone making out or worse. “Please be Steve” you whisper, opening it. There he was in all his glory sitting on the bed, some girl hugging him.

“Y/n” the girl pulls away and faces you. Robin, the same as your mascara smudged under her eyes. “What’s going on with you two tonight?” Steve asks. You couldn’t find your voice all of a sudden, you opened your mouth to speek but nothing came out. He gets up to leave. “You guys need to figure this out” he points between you two. Steve kisses your temple.

“Go easy on her” he whispers. He shuts the door, muffiling the music.

Robin watched as your chest rose and fell, stood back against the door, looking everywhere around the room but at her.

“I-I didn’t mean it” her voice was raspier than usual. “I just- fuck y/n you’re making this so hard”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you cry out.

“You! Y/n I’m taking about you. About you and Steve how I will never be him!” you stood in disbelief, confused.

“I literally don’t understand!”

“I’m jealous of Steve!” She whispers, ashamed and stepping closer to you, dropping her head. “I want to be the one dancing with you”

“I wanted you to dance with us” you stress.

“Y/n how drunk are you right now?” She shouts tugging at her hair. “Listen. To. Me. I. Like. You” you didn’t know what to say. “I want to dance with you like you dance with Steve, I want to touch your body like he gets to. I want to kiss you infront if everyone. I want to hold you close. Fuck y/n I want you! But you don’t like girls” She wept, her tears spilling down her pink freckled cheeks.

“Robin are you kidding?” You couldn’t hide your excitement. “I like girls! I love girls! I love boobies!” You professed.

“So it’s me you don’t like” it was Robins to be turn to be confused, using her sleeve to catch her tears. You both could bet everything you owned that Steve was listening to the both of you behind the door, getting frustrated at how hard this conversation was to listen to.

“Robin” you wipe your own eyes. “You’re the girl I like!”

“I am”

“No I’m lying to you” you say sarcastically. “Of course you are!” The door swings open, revealing none other than Steve Harrington.

“Finally! Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep it a secret from the both of you. My life just got a hell of a lot easier” Steve wraps his arms around both of your shoulders putting you into a joint hug.

“Steve” robin groans. “You’re ruining the moment”

“Sorry. I’m just so happy my friends are inlove”

“Steve!” You shout.

“Y/n!” He shouts back and you push him off you both.

“Please. Leave. Unless you have a thing for girls on girls” Steve’s cheeks turn pink, at robins accusation “Get out of here pervert” robin jokes shoving him out the room.

“I just feel a little left out” he shouts, as you shut the door in his face

“Come here” robin motions and wipes away your makeup with her thumb. “So when can I take you out on a date?”

“Not tomorrow I just know I’m going to be too hung over”

“The day after then?”

“That could work”

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x y/n #robin Buckley angst

[cutecherrygirl]

Hello! Can I please request a threesome with vampire Lee know, Vampire bang Chan and Human reader?

Hii! Okay so this is my first time writing smut so I cant promise you its going to be good but ill try my best ❤️

Vampire Lee Know, Vampire bang chan and human reader.

Warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol, mention of blood

You lay sprawled, almost asleep on thr couch, staring at the celling that must be between Twenty foot above you. Your first thought is who could be so pretentious to need so much celling space, but then again would you expect aby less from traveling with Chris. (You can call him what you like, I just feel like Chris sounds move Vampirey lol)

Your mind is still spinning blissfully from thr alcohol, a human amongst vampires meant that keeping up with them was never going to be possible, but it didnt stop you giving it your best shot. It was just nice of Chris to share some blood of his blood with you, drinking it wasn't so nice at first, but the more you had, it became like a drug, and damn was it a good hangover cure. Chris didn't said it was a mediocre pain to waste his blood for healing on, but it didn't stop him pulling you on his lap and letting you drink from him.

Now half asleep with the glow of moonlight shining over your face from the oversized window, and the feeling of pure contentment running through your veins, you couldn't be happier.

"You do make it difficult to not drink you dry when you look so innocent like that." The voice came from the shadows in the corner of the room.

Minho.

Traveling with Chris meant you were also traveling with his side kick.

"And who would you play with then? You may have your switch turned off, but you're nit an idiot." You say while closing your eyes.

The gust of wind as he moved through the room blew over you, and you tried to follow the sound to where he might be now when he talked again and you suddenly felt how close he eas to your face.

"True, how could I kill my favourite play thing."

You felt his fingers slowly touch over your stomach, lightly drawing his touch up your body, while you try to act as if he wasn't bothering you, you kept still with your eyes closed. You gathered from his voice and hand placement he was hanging over from the back of the couch. The touches from his finger tips were making you shiver but you kept as uninterested as you could. This little game was what you always played, him seeing you as a puzzle he could crack, but you never let him on the fact you were already open to him.

His hand absentmindedly continued to draw soft circles over your lower stomach, occasionally drawing a line along the waist band of your jeans.

The longer the room remained silent the more intense the situation became, you wonderer if this was part of the game, was he waiting for you to say something first, what would he do if you didn't say anything at all.

You took the easy way out and slowly opened your eyes to the direction of where his voice was last. When you did, you caught the gaze of the demolishing dark eyes staring right at you, when he saw you look at him you took his devilish smirk as a sign that he knew he'd won.

In a flash he moved around the couch and was positioned above you, his hips placed between your legs. He looked down at you almost baring his teeth, in any other situation you might have been scared, but you had been here a Million times before, and even Minho with hid switch flipped you could read like a book.

He reached his hand up to your face and pushed some hair out of your eyes, all the time keeping hold of the stare, you were still not backing down, not yet anyway.

"I could have you anyway I'd like right now." He purred quietly, his eyes traveling down your face as his thumbs ran over your bottom lip.

"I like your confidence." You answered baiting him.

He chuckled and in return pushed his hips down, grinding the growing bulge in his jeans against you, "I could have you panting and moaning beneath me, in a matter of minutes."

His hand moved under the hem of your shirt, trailing up the side of your body.

He moved his hips again and kept his eyes locked on your expression as he did so, biting into his bottom lip. You kept your eyes locked with his, but didn't hide the thrill that ran over your face as he did so this time. He seemed to catch the glint in your eye, and the pull of a smile, so he kept moving slowly, painfully slow, "Im going to fuck you on this couch Y/N, have you groaning my name."

Your only answer is a slight hitch in your breath, if there ever was a way to break you down it would be talking to you like that.

His hand quickly pulled from under your shirt where he was trailing his fingers over your skin, and moved to pull your legs around his waist and pull your body further down the couch into him just as fast, he pulled your arms above your head, pinning your hands there. He ket his head drop into the crook of your neck, and you felt his bared fangs scarpe across your skin.

A thrill of fear and excitement ran through you, the danger of it all.

"You smell so good, and with your heart beating so fast, you're almost irresistible."

You felt his teeth press against your skin, at any second he could bite into you, but instead he lets his tongue run over your pulse point, letting his lips press over your hot skin, and just kissing your neck.

You close your eyes and just embrace the feeling, leaning your head back slightly to feel him work his tongue over your skin, and dig his fingers into your thighs as he continues to grind against you.

Everything feels so blurred, your head still swimming, the intoxicating feeling of him with you, and now the euphoric sense of his warm body enhanced by the alcohol in your system and the blood from Chris. You grip into his back, not holding in thr sigh of contentment.

When Minho lifts his head and looks down at you, you can see the veins raised on his face, his fangs, and the dark hungry eyes staring down at you, he looks feral and magnificent, and that's why you have definitely lost this game. You quickly gran the back of his head and pull his lips to yours, greedily kissing him, and feeling him use those fangs to bite at your bottom lip.

You loved Minho like this; animalistic. With anyone other than Minho you would doubt the could have such restraint while in the state.

As he moved his tongue over yours, his hips began to push harder against you, with you tightening your thighs around his waist looking for more. You felt like teenagers, wanting and desperate, rutting against each other looking for any friction.

Suddenly Minho pulled his lips away from yours, growling down at you as he kneeled back between your legs. You couldn't control the needy whine that you made as the warmth and movement was abruptly taken from you, all self-preservation thrown out of the window at this point, there was no point in hiding how much you wanted him now.

Minho quickly pulled his shirt over his head, with you watching as his muscles stretched, highlighted with the white light of the moon. You reached your hands up to touch his chest and run your hands down his skin, watching him stare down at you gritting hid teeth at each vampire intensified touch he felt. You knew the lightest touches were the best to make a vampire unravel for you, it was the Greatest trick you'd learnt being with Chris and Minho.

Minho kept his eyes locked with yours, his breathing getting rougher, until he pushes your hands to the bottom on his jeans and ordered, "Open them."

You roughly pulled the bottom on hos jeans free and pulled down the zipper, making sure to keep your eyes looking up at him thr whole time, Minho then quickly moved his hands back to your hips, hooking his fingers into the hem of your jeans, pulling the waist band down your thighs, along with your underwear. He pulled your legs up in front of him, dragging the material quickly off and throwing them on the floor, before spreading your legs and pushing his hips back between them.

His jeans were hanging low around his ass, and you could feel his hardened cock press against you through his underwear as he leant his body back down against you.

You took his head back in your hands, pulling his mouth back to yours, moaning into him as you felt him grind against you and the sudden extra friction you now got. Minho hurriedly moved his hand between your thighs and pressed his fingers against your entrance, groaning into your mouth at the feeling of your wetness, and quickly pushed two fingers inside you. Stopping with his forehead on yours, to look down at you as he slowly but forcefully moves his fingers inside of you, thrusting and bending them playfully, while watching the thrill play out in your moans.

Minho kept his eyes locked with yours and his fingers moving inside of you, as he said , "are you just going to stand there and watch?"

Your confusion played on your face until he lifted his head and looked to the side of the room. You turned your head to see Chris stood in the door way, his hand running over the bulge in his jeans.

"It has crossed my mind." Came the smooth familiar voice, as he leant against the door frame.

He looked down at you and smiled as he watched, seeing Minho lean his head back l down to your neck, his hand still moving between your legs. You let your mouth fall open as you moaned, to see Chris grip his cock harder thorough his jeans.

You loved being able to make both of them crazy, to see Chris growl at you with need, to have Minho falling under a spell of lust and want.

Chris kept his eyes searching over both of your bodies, traveling over Minho, down his body to thr hand placed between your bodies and working on you.

Minho lifted his head from your neck, and turned to gaze at Chris, his eyes doing all the talking he didn't. Chris seemed to take the look as a question abd nodded slightly, walking closer to you both.

When he reached you, he let himself fall to his knees beside you both, his hand coming up to stroke the side of your cheek. Minho immediately lifted his body fron yours, and moved lower until he was positioned between your legs kissing aling the inside of your thigh.

Chris watches for a second Minho kissing and licking greedily at you, before he turned back to you and asked "do you want to drink ?"

You felt Minho Move closer to your center, but still not letting you feel his mouth there. You nodded slightly, the feeling of drinking his blood durning sex was nothing like any other, it enhanced the feeling, made everything sharp and clear, and seeing the delight on Chris's face was enough reason to do it all. Chris lifted his wrist abd bit his teeth into it, before holding it to your lips. As you pressed you lips there, you felt Minho press his tongue between your center, picking up the pace with his tongue that he had lost earlier. You felt him swipe and circle his tongue over ur clit, and you moaned into Chris's wrist, gripping his hand to pull him closer to you, feeling the drug like pleasure control you and intensify.

Chris watched you, biting his blood tinted lips, seeing you lift your hips to Minho, seeing you hold into his arm and eagerly drink from him. When you open your eyes, you saw the veins on Chris's face raised and his eyes turning dark as he Searched both of your bodies.

You felt Minho grip your thighs, almost pulling them over his shoulders, still working his tongue and lips on you. You lifted your head to look down at him, feeling Chris pull his wrist From you as you moved, he swiped away a drop of blood with his thumb from your lips, before letting his fingers move down your chest, pulling the buttons open your shirt. You watched down at Minho completely lost with you, his eyes closed and gripping onto you. You instinctively let your hand move to his hair, brushing your fingers through the front, and felt him groan against you as you did.

Chris pulled your shirt open, before pulling your bra, and dropping his head quickly to kiss over your breasts. You felt him kiss and swipe his tongue over your nipples, slightly squeezing them in his big hands.

Pt. 2 coming up ❤️

#skz stay #skz #kpop #stray kids #straykids #skz smut #stray kids smut #vampire #kpop smut #lee know #bang chan

[pixelblaze]

may i request an adaman x reader please?? something with the two of u training pokémon together; and u are childhood friends but never lovers; but something changes today >:)

Of course! Thank you for requesting!

Adaman x reader: Pining

Adaman had always been a dear friend to you, ever since the two of you were little.

One of the main things that bonded you was your undying love of Pokémon.

Adaman with his eevee.

You with your pikachu.

You loved training together, and would do so often. No matter how soundly he beat you, he was always full of encouragement towards you. And no matter how soundly you beat him, he would never sulk about it.

Maybe that charming personality of his was what caused the small crush that started to form in your mind. He was always so…gentle and friendly to you.

Regardless, you pushed it down. You couldn’t be with him. He was the leader of the Diamond clan, and he just considered you a friend anyways, right?

So friends you would be. Even if it killed you to not hold his hand.

-

It had been quite a few years since Adaman’s eevee became a Leafeon. He was now holding the cat-like creature in his arms, and he tilted his head and smiled at you.

“Well. Looks like we win again, y/n.”

The Leafeon makes a noise that sounds like a purr, and Adaman’s grin shoots an arrow through your heart.

“Yep yep. You beat us fair and square,” you smile, clicking your tongue at your poor little pikachu, letting it know to come on over and get healed up.

“I’ve got it this time,” he says, approaching from his side of the makeshift battleground the two of you had been using. It was just a small clearing you managed to find a short distance from the village.

“Oh, thank you,” you reply.

Your Pikachu chirps it’s thanks to the blue-haired man, who heals it and his Leafeon up with expert ease.

Your pikachu gives him a small lick, before bounding over to you and jumping onto your shoulder.

“Feeling better, partner?” you hear him say privately to his Leafeon. It purrs in response, nuzzling his hand with its head. “Good.”

He stands back up, looks at you with those deep eyes. Recently it’s become even harder to push down your growing crush on this man.

You were hoping the decent of the evening would disguise your face turning red, but something about the smirk that plays on his face tells you otherwise.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” you insist.

“Okay, okay, I believe you,” he shrugs in surrender. “You know I just ask because I care about you, alright?”

“Alright,” you agree. “Thanks for the concern but I’m fine, really.” Did he know?? Was he just messing with you now?

“Good, you’re welcome,” he grins, then squints at the horizon, shielding his eyes from the descending sun with his hand. “Getting late.”

“Yeah, we should probably head back soon.”

“But, before we do, I have something for you. Hand.”

He steps close to you. Close enough for your protective pikachu to want to chirp a warning to the man.

Your face is bright red. You reach out your hand.

He takes it with both of his, and places something inside your open palm.

“For your pikachu.”

Your pikachu tilts its head at the mention of its name.

His hands linger on yours for a moment longer than necessary. As if he’s trying to tell you something. His mouth opens as if to speak, and you swear you can see some red seeping into his cheeks.

Finally he gets the words out. Changing them last second, you guess.

“What? Just take it!” he laughs, gently pushing your hand toward you, and you look at your palm and see he has given you a small, greenish stone.

A thunder stone.

“Adaman…thank you…”

When you look back up at him, he’s staring at you, intensely. When you meet his gaze though he playfully smirks at you and shrugs again.

“You’re welcome. I hope it comes in handy.” He laughs again, awkwardly. “We should…we should probably get back to the village. Before we get eaten by something,” he chuckles.

“Adaman?”

He spins on his heel, waving at you.

“Let’s go, y/n.”

And him and his Leafeon are marching back in the direction of town, leaving you and your pikachu to awkwardly trot to catch up with them.

The interaction plays in the back of your mind the entire way.

Did Adaman, leader of the Diamond clan, have a crush on you?

(Author’s note: sorry for the cheesy ending haha, hope you enjoy!)

#Pokémon #pokemon legends arceus #Pokémon Adaman #pokémon x reader #Pokémon Adaman x reader

[aheathen-conceivably]

🎶 Man, you can't fight it, don't even try 🎶

Antoine and Zelda had been steadfastly ignoring what had happened after their last gig. Only Jo was none the wiser to the tension between them, and she kept booking them to play at every high society party of carnival season.

The moment that Zelda walked through the door she knew that Jo had outdone herself this time. It was Mardi Gras Eve, and somehow they were playing the finest event of the season. The King of Rex was hosting a masked ball for the court of all the Uptown parades, and they were to waltz and then Charleston to the sound of Zelda’s voice.

Zelda and Antoine had arrived early, but the hallways were already growing crowded with masked celebrants waiting for the music to begin. A hush fell over the hall as they entered, Zelda’s intense fascination blinding her to the stares coming from around the room.

The King of Rex greeted them and then led them into the ballroom where they would be playing for the night. Zelda slowed her steps as she entered. The decadence of the space was dizzying, but it was the people that transfixed her completely.

They were scattered about the room, sitting in chairs or talking lazily amongst themselves. Their gazes were so intense that suddenly she could hear the hiss of whispers and the giggles hidden behind lace fans. Their eyes flashed behind masks like hidden jewels, making them seem like ghosts from another era.

Was it judging malice that she saw in those eyes? Belittling mockery? Or did the masks just give them all sinister countenances? The longer that she looked at them the more disoriented she became, and the room seemed to spin until shouts pierced her reverie.

“Bullshit! You knew who you hired, don’t even try to tell me that you didn’t! Who do you think you are trying to shut me off behind a screen like this!”

Zelda ran over to him, trying to grab his arm in an effort to quiet him, “Antoine, stop!”

“No!” He yelled, shaking her off and throwing the chinoiserie screen to the ground, “He doesn’t get to treat me this way!”

Their host stepped forward, his fists balled and his face full of rage, “Someone like you doesn’t even deserve to be in my house in the first place. Now get the hell out of here! And count your lucky stars that you were ever here at all because I’ll make damn sure that you and your little Jezebel never play a high society party ever again.”

Swallowing another curse, Antoine stormed off into the night. Zelda muttered her best apology to the angry man and the shocked spectators then ran after him.

“Antoine,” she pleaded when she finally caught up to him, “Antoine please!”

“No, Zelda! I heard you apologize to that man like we owe him something! If you knew him…if you knew the things that he’s done. But what could you possibly know, huh? With your posh accent and your alabaster skin what could you possibly understand about this place? Just go home, go home to Jo and tell her all about Antoine’s outburst like she knew knew this wouldn’t happen.”

And with that, he stormed off again, leaving Zelda alone in the humid night air, confused and heartbroken once more.

#1922 #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #sims 4 historical #ts4 historical #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #1920s #the darlingtons #tw racsim #zelda darlington #antoine duplanchier

[ladylovesloki]

Imposter Prince: Ch 1

This is the first time I’m posting my own writing, please be kind while I learn. Accepting all the constructive criticism <3

Thank you to all of the writers that made me feel brave enough to post my own writing. Specifically @michelleleewise, I sent you an idea as an anon recently and your work has inspired me to give it a try. So thank you!

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Warnings: Fluff, a tiny bit of angst at the very end 

Summary: You’re on vacation in Asgard and something doesn't seem right with your friend Loki.

“Y/N!” Thor’s booming voice pierces through the tower as he looks for you to get to the Bifrost.

You became close friends with Thor while working as Pepper’s assistant for the last five years. You didn’t have a family of your own so the Avengers became a pseudo family for you. One night Pepper noticed you working late at night and realized, you never take vacation time, you  consistently work late hours and there were no pictures of family or friends on your desk. One day her curiosity got the best of her and Pepper asked if you would go and have lunch with her. That day changed everything, as soon as she learned about your history she immediately took you under her wing. Bringing you to Avengers events, gatherings and important business meetings. You quickly became her first assistant and close friend.

That brings us to today, Thor’s running around the tower trying to find you to drag you to the Bifrost. You became very close with Thor and loved the idea about visiting Asgard to learn about different cultures and ways of life so he started bringing you for some research and some R&R. Every year you visit at least twice for a couple of weeks to catch up with your friends on Asgard and to enjoy the privileges of being a guest of the royal family. You especially love visiting your dear friend Loki. Strangely enough the two of you became very close over the years. You enjoyed Loki’s pranks and his wisdom, frequently visiting the library together to learn about other realms besides Asgard and Loki was more than happy to bestow his knowledge to someone who was willing to learn.

“Y/N! There you are! Are you ready to go my friend?”

“Yeah! I’m going to check in with Pepper to see if she needs anything before I head out for the next 2 weeks.”

“Very well, meet me at the Bifrost when you are ready to depart.”

You thew your backpack over your shoulder and made your way to the common room. There you find Pepper, Tony and Bruce having coffee at the dining table.

“Hey Pepper! You need anything before I head out with Thor?”

“No y/n, thank you. Enjoy your time away, you deserve it. Those negotiations last week took about 2 years off of our lives.”

“Yea, super intense but worth it.” Ever since Pepper learned about you growing up in the foster care system you both have been using the power of Stark Industries to make changes in the system where you can. No matter the cost or the difficulty, you both did everything you could to make a difference and maybe get some kids in better homes and environments.

“Give Rock of Ages my love”, Tony winks at you over his coffee.

“Will do Tony, please don’t torture Pepper while I’m away. I won’t be here to remind her murder is illegal.”

 Pepper rose from the table and gave you a hug, you waved at Tony and Bruce telling them both to behave. The science bros love getting in to trouble when the Avengers have some down time.

You meet Thor by the Bifrost, he calls to Heimdall and you were thrust into a vortex of light and booming sounds. You both land with a thud, after so many visits you rarely get the spins so a puke bag is no longer required for travel.

“Welcome back Lady y/n, it’s lovely to see you again.” Heimdall greets you.

“Hello Heimdall! It’s so good to be back, I haven’t missed anything too exciting I hope.”

“Nothing ground breaking to report, remember you are always welcome to watch the stars with me any time you wish.” Heimdall smoothly replies.

You blush, it’s hard not to have a crush on the beautiful guardian. His dark skin and his golden eyes that you know could see the universe always made you get a little flushed. It doesn’t help that he’s a bit of a flirt. 

“Stop flirting Heimdall, Siriana will have your head for less” Thor said between giggles.

“All in good fun My Prince, Lady y/n’s face turns a lovely shade of pink when I do” he winks over at you.

You laugh and grab Thor’s arm, “alright My Prince, let’s go inside so I can see Momma Frigga.”.

To say you loved Frigga was an understatement. She was everything a mother should be, caring, kind and so unbelievably loving. You loved walking with her in her gardens, catching up on the latest court gossip and things you missed while you were away.

“Very well, court should be over soon, we can wait for her in the throne room.”. On your way there, Thor asked one of the palace maids to drop off your bag in your room. After you started visiting consistently, Frigga gifted you your own room that would be yours until…well they don’t talk about a future without you or like Frigga likes to say “when it’s your time to wait for us in the stars."

You and Thor walk in to the throne room, Odin was giving his closing words. You look up at the dais and see Frigga looking regal as always. And then you see a tall elfish looking man with long blonde hair standing next to her.

“Thor, who’s standing next to your mom?”

“What?”, Thor looks down at you like you’re crazy.

“Who is that man standing next to your mother?” You ask again.

“Are you well y/n? My brother hasn’t changed since your last visit.”

You look back up at the throne and you don’t see Loki anywhere. “Thor, that’s not Loki. The man next to your mother is tall and wearing Loki’s colors yes, but his hair is so blonde it’s almost white and his ears are pointed, that is NOT your brother.”

Thor again looks at you, eyebrows furrowed and looks back to the dais. He see’s his mother and very clearly next to her his tall, definitely DARK haired brother Loki. He looks down at you now with concern wondering what was going on with Asgard’s favorite mortal.

To be continued…

#imagine loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki x original character #slow burn #friend to lovers #loki x y/n #loki x female reader #loki angst

[lifewithchronicpain]

I'm 37 years old, and I'm old enough to remember that significant hurricane landfalls happened every few years. There would be gaps in these category 3-5, so that they seemed rare. The average number of hurricanes has not statistically increased but the strength of them has led to a significant landfall hurricane in the US at least once every year.

Ian is comparable to Charlie in '04 but Charlie had a 10 mile eyewall, Ian had a 30 mile eyewall and larger coverage of land overall. Charlie might have been just as strong, but Ian hit way more areas.

Hurricanes are basically the Earth's cooling system, which is why they occur this time of year. All the absorbed summer heat in the oceans is being pulled from the ocean and fueling these storms. Warmer oceans means hurricanes grow quicker and reach the higher categories where the same storm 20 years ago wouldn't.

Warmer air means the atmosphere can hold more water vapor and send that back down as these immense rain storms, hurricanes included. Also global warming has slowed these massive hurricanes so they sit and spin longer than past hurricanes.

I have literally watched the weather change from the 90s to now. But I'm not the only one who sees it, my mom of 67 agrees the big storms that hit have increased.

This is why, even though I live in Boston, I have given consideration as to what we might do if a strong hurricane hit here (and it does happen) or just the intense rainstorms like the ones that flooded NY trains last spring. We keep a second pantry of food in the basement that has at least a weeks worth of food, mostly cans and pasta. Plus some clean water and juices. My mom regular checks to see if anything is expiring and rotates it out. We have a flashlight radio for any power outages, which happened for the first time in a long time this summer and I actually needed.

It's not like we're preppers by any stretch of the imagination, we just want to have what we need if we ever were stranded for a few days from a storm. I've also made sure we have comfortable pet containers that would help us evacuate with our pets if needed.

If you live in an area typically not affected by flooding and severe storms, you may want to reconsider taking some simple measures to stay safe in a shelter in place situation. Climate change has proved over and over again that the rules have changed and we have to adapt.

#climate change #global warming #hurricane #hurricane ian #severe storms

[5am-the-foxing-hour]

Acceptance

Janus had no idea how it happened or what caused it, everything had been relatively fine. Yet here he was, with a fever even more stubborn than Virgil, making his life a smothering hell. Who would have thought getting accepted would throw you off kilter and leave you a bit green around the scales.

Hey fanders! It's been a while since I last wrote anything for this fandom! But I am back (for now, no idea how long I will stay around this time), and I bring you all this.

- - -

Characters: Janus, Roman, Remus, Logan, Patton, Virgil, Thomas, Orange is mentioned but doesn’t show face.

Warnings: Sickness, vomiting, fever

- - -

Word count on this post: 2 836

Word count total: 6 901

- AO3 Link -

- - -

General Fanfic Tag list: @ebony-wolf, @nashiraneko, @i-sold-my-soul-to-thefandom, @rabbitsartcorner, @punsterterry,  @sleepyssnail,  @nightmaresides, @virgilswritings, @ninja-girl2846, @ninjago2020, @starryfirefliesbloggo, @garecc,  @sympatheticdeceit, @cookiethedevil, @askthesnake,  @all-bridges-will-burn, @tacohippy56900, @little-euro-girl, @aggressiveshipper, @imbasicallyshakespear, @slayerofspiders, @prinssess61, @underthesea73,  @suicidalcitrusfruit,   @sander-side-stuff, @franthehorsegir,   @dupstepbranch, @multi-fandoms-posts  

- - -

Janus woke up gradually, feeling the worst he ever had as far as he could remember…

He lay sprawled on his bed, limbs feeling as strong as boiled spaghetti and as heavy as lead. Yellow blankets kicked off, the black sheets wrinkled and soaked in sweat.

Janus blinked numbly up at the ceiling of his room, everything was swimming before his face and nothing wanted to stay in focus. He blinked sluggishly as he, on weak shaking limbs, pushed himself into a sitting position, swaying there he sat, the loose t-shirt, with his logo on it, that he wore to bed was sticking to him, like a wet plastic bag to itself.

The alarm on his bedside table was blaring; its annoying repetitive beeping caused a headache to start to gnaw behind Janus’s tired feverish eyes.

The deceitful side slowly turned and reached for the alarm, to turn it off. The change in position caused a strong sense of vertigo to strike, causing him to crumple back onto the bed until the world felt more solid.

He reached out, missing the alarm clock at first, sending a half full glass of water crashing to the floor with a crash. Janus blinked down at the broken glass not fully absorbing what happened, before the beeping returned again in higher intensity. Janus reached out again and his scaled hand slapped down on the off button.

The alarm grew blissfully silent and Janus slumped back onto the bed with a sigh of relief that only turned to a cough followed by an attack that left him panting for breath. He slumped there he lay, he was just going to close his eyes for a moment, just a moment… but sleep graced him again for a moment before the chill that took over his body roused him again. Janus curled up on his soaked bed as the cold sunk its teeth into him, chilling him to the very bone, causing his body to shiver hard enough for his teeth to chatter.

Hunger gnawed at his stomach, but the very thought of eating anything caused nausea to roll in in waves, almost strong enough for him to gag. Janus weakly crawled off the bed getting to his feet, shivering harder when the floors were colder than the air in his room, miraculously missing the broken glass with his naked feet. The change from prone to standing sent off another coughing attack that left Janus wheezing, hunched over against the bed, almost collapsing back onto it. He reached down for the blanket, throwing it back haphazardly onto the bed. The headache grew stronger the longer he stood up, now feeling more as if Remus had grabbed rusty spikes and hammered them into his skull.

Janus swayed on his feet, the nausea squirmed uncomfortable in his stomach growing stronger as well along with the headache. Janus gripped the fabric of his t-shirt as he felt the world spin around him.

He should lie back down, but the thought of laying back on his soaked gross bed didn’t feel very nice. He was panting as he struggled to think on what to do.

In the end, his body decided for him as the world started to spin even more and Janus felt his knees give out before he crumpled like a wet sheet of paper.

Everything went dark before he even hit the floor.

-o-

Patton looked up from the puzzle he had been working on at the sound of a crash from upstairs not long after followed by a thud.

The moral side looked around, Virgil was lying on the carpet that took up most of the living room floor, feet up on the couch cushions, a pair of noise cancelling headphones over his ears. If Patton listened closely he could hear the muted sounds from the music Virgil was listening to while scrolling tumblr on his phone. Logan was sitting next to where Virgil’s feet rested, a book almost as thick as his arm on his lap, but the logical side wasn’t reading, he too was looking up, towards the stairs, with confusion.

 “Did you hear that too?” Patton asked

 “If you mean the ‘thump’ then, yes.” Logan stated as he bookmarked his place in the book and closed it. The two blue sides rose from where they were sitting, gaining the attention of Virgil, who gave away a questioning noise moving one of his headphones as he looked up at the two sides.

 “What’s going on?”

 “There was a thump from upstairs.” Logan explained “Patton and I were going to go investigate the cause.”

 “It was probably just the twins...” Virgil grumbled.

 “Better to investigate than to assume things.” Logan said as he started to climb the stairs. Patton followed after and Virgil rolled his eyes and waved them off before putting his headphones back on.

Logan and Patton shared a look, before they climbed the stairs. While the downstairs resembled Thomas’s apartment (or where he was currently staying), the upstairs was pretty much a world of its own, leading up to the mind palace. Now the mind palace was grand, containing all the side’s rooms, as well as the mind palace theatre, Logan’s debate station. The dream cinema and of course the whole memory library, containing all facts Thomas had ever learned as well as everything he had experienced and seen. Janus’s courtroom was also located amongst all the swirling and twisting corridors. A pair of huge doors lead out to Roman’s side of the imagination, while a beat up backdoor led to Remus’s.

The floor that contained the doors to the side’s rooms had been relatively plain, a boring corridor with doors on either side, the light side doors closest to the staircase while the dark side doors were at the very end of the corridor, as well as two bathrooms in the middle. That had been the norm, up until Thomas had seen Enchanto, after that, the doors as well as the floor took on a more Casita look.

Which caused the doors that previously had been in nothing but the plain colour of the side that occupied it, to now have a glowing carving of said side on it as well. The floor also split the corridor so instead the sides doors were facing the balcony that was filled with all from plants (Logan), some fancy statues (Roman), paintings and pictures showing the sides or important moments in Thomas’s life (Patton), as well as some random halloween decoration strewn around that never got taken away (Virgil).

Still, there were a few corridors still existing, each leading to the door of the side that Thomas was slowly learning to accept, or had not yet met. The Orange door was the furthest away from the staircase, while the corridor that led to Remus’s room was growing shorter day after day. The corridor down to Janus’s room had shortened after he told Thomas his name, and was now moving a bit faster than Remus’s corridor, to join the wall that already held the core side’s doors.

Patton and Logan stopped at the top of the stairs, before they went in a direction each, Patton taking the left turn while Logan took a right turn. Walking past their own doors, knowing that if anything happened in there, they would know it.

Looking around, the carvings on Roman’s door were out, signalling that he was not in his room and most likely in the imagination adventuring. A glance into Remus’s corridor showed his door also not glowing, meaning that the other twin was likely also in the imagination.

A glance down the orange side corridor showed the door glowing steadily, but the door was still closed shut by Janus’s yellow ‘keep out’ tape, keeping the side behind it from being able to interact with Thomas personally, until the right moment, or due to happenings in Thomas’s life.

Virgil’s door was faintly glowing since the anxious side was still in the mind palace. Logan and Patton met up on the opposite side of the stairs, standing before the corridor that led to Janus’s door. The yellow door seemed to be looming, but Logan frowned when he noticed how the glowing carving was flickering and pulsating unnaturally. The two blue themed sides shared a look, Patton worried and Logan uncertain. They hesitated for a moment before they entered the corridor.

Logan knocked on the yellow door.

 “Janus?” he called, the two of them waited anxiously, but there was no reply. Logan knocked again, harder this time.

 “Janus?! Buddy? Can you open the door please?” Still there was no reply. “Should… should we go in?”

 “We would be intruding on his privacy, but… he might need help if he hasn’t replied to our calls.”

 “Better to be safe than sorry, right?”

 “Right.”

Logan grabbed the door handle and pushed it down, the door was thankfully not locked, and pushed the door open.

The warm humid air of Janus’s room rolled out, hitting them in the face causing both of their glasses to fog over. Logan took his glasses off and cleaned them with a tissue, before putting them back on and pushed inside. Patton meanwhile rubbed the paws of his cat hoodie against the glass of his own glasses, before he followed to peer inside, but not entering the room.

The room was dim, the only light being from a big terrarium that took up most of the left wall of the room. Fairy lights hung along the ceiling from the middle and out in pretty arches, combined with clinging plants and greenery. A stained glass window, covered by a pair of thick curtains, took up the right wall. A stripe of rainbow coloured sunlight managed to find a hole between the fabrics to pierce into the room, landing softly against the crumpled sheets and blanket on Janus’s bed. The wall opposite the door was nothing but a gigantic bookshelf that held books, as well as trophies and other winnings.

Logan walked inside, while Patton worried his hands with the paws of the hoodie, he stayed at the door, making sure to keep it open. It was the best way to make sure the room didn’t start to influence their cores, when the side the room belonged to weren't able to keep it in check.

There was no sign of Janus anywhere.

 “Patton, could you turn on the lights please, it would make it easier to look.” Logan said as he looked inside the terrarium with curious eyes, having caught sight of a couple of yellow boa snakes, who stared back at him or ignored him completely.

 “Oh! Sure.” Patton said as he looked around for the light switch, turning it on once he found it. Filling the room with a bright yellow light. Logan turned away from the terrarium, only to freeze where he stood when he caught sight of something on the other side of the bed, cursing loudly as he rushed forward.

 “What?! What happened?! Logan?!” Patton cried out, ignoring the risk, as he rushed over to join Logan, the sight that met him on the other side of the bed made Patton pale.

Janus was sickly pale apart from the feverish flush that was high on his cheeks. Despite how hot Janus’s room was, the yellow side was shivering, unconscious in Logan’s arms.

 “He’s burning up…” Logan muttered as he rested his wrist against Janus’s sweaty forehead. “This is very concerning.”

 “But, how is he sick? We can’t get sick on our own, we only tend to get sick when Thomas is sick, and it’s never this bad!” Patton rambled. “What’s wrong with him!?”

 “I don’t know, but he can’t stay here, the room is too hot, we need to bring him somewhere we can cool him down. Taking him to any of our rooms would only put him at risk and in harm's way as our rooms would have an easier time influencing him, when he’s this weak.”

 “What about the common room, it’s the most neutral space we have… and it would make it easier for us to keep watch and care for him.”

 “Agreed.” Logan nodded, before he returned his attention to Janus. “Janus, can you hear me?” He got no reaction from the snake side. Logan shook him lightly and clapped him lightly on the cheek, that brought forth a reaction, Janus’s face scrunched up and he blinked his eyes open and gave away a soft huff of breath. Logan frowned at how Janus’s eyes didn’t really focus on anything. “Janus?” Janus blinked, turning his head slightly to blink blearily up at Logan.

 “Lo-” his voice cracked and Janus’s whole body jolted as cough after cough attacked him once again. Logan cursed softly at the sound of the coughs while Patton made a pained noise in the back of his throat.

 “Patton, go and get the common room in order, I will carry him downstairs.” Patton nodded as he rushed out of Janus’s room, taking a detour into his own room to grab his fluffiest blankets before he moved downstairs.

 “Janus, we’re going to move you to the common area so we can monitor your health better.” Logan explained once Janus’s coughs died down to a pained wheeze, he just groaned in reply, slumping his head against Logan’s shoulder, eyes closing. “Stay awake, please. You are in dire need of medicine and water. How long have you been sick?” A weak shrug was all he got in return. Logan huffed, not happy with the answer, but knew he better start moving. He changed his hold on Janus, gently taking Janus’s right arm and moving it so it lay over his shoulder, before he moved one arm to hold under Janus’s back and another under his knees. Logan rose to his feet, securing his hold on Janus’s body. Janus made a aborted noise at the sudden movement, gagging but thankfully not throwing up anything. Logan stood stock still, allowing Janus time to get used to it. The yellow side actually whined as he slumped against Logan’s chest.

Logan didn’t like this one bit, there were no records of a side getting sick this bad. Janus was burning up, delirious from the fever, despite this Thomas seemed to be doing fine, so Janus’s sickness had yet not affected their host… Logan hoped it wouldn’t. Thomas was still mentally exhausted after the wedding, even if it was getting better.

Virgil looked up when Patton came rushing down the stairs, arms full of fluffy blankets. Virgil sat up properly on the floor, removing his headphones.

 “What got you in such a rush, pops?”

 “Janus’s sick, and we don’t know what’s wrong.” Patton said in a rushed breath as he started to get the couch in order, removing some of the throw pillows and putting the blankets in place, before rushing into the kitchen to get a dish tub and putting it on the floor next to the couch, who knew if Janus would be able to keep food and water down or not.

Virgil followed Patton with his eyes unsure if he was to help or stay out of the way.

 “Are you sure he’s sick and not just faking it?” Virgil snarked, as Patton ruched into the kitchen again.

 “Virgil!” Patton yelled, looking up over the kitchen island to give Virgil a disapproving glare. “He is sick and needs our help.” Virgil scoffed

 “I’m just saying, it wouldn’t put it past the bastard.” Virgil grumbled, only to look up when he heard Logan walk down the stairs, and whatever snarky comment Virgil was planning to say to the snake, when he saw him, died on his tongue, as his eyes caught sight of Janus’s limp form in Logan’s arms. Sure, Janus might be able to pretend to be sick, but he was not that good. Virgil felt guilt and worry squirm in his stomach.

Getting to his feet he moved over, to get a better look. Janus was pale, his scales less vibrant than normal, dark eye bags under his eyes that almost rivalled Virgil’s eye-shadow and despite how lethargic his body was, shivers still shook his limbs. Virgil didn’t even have to reach out to know Janus had a fever from the high flush on his cheeks.

 “Any idea what’s wrong with him?” Virgil asked, in a hushed tone. Logan shook his head as he gently deposited Janus onto the couch, making sure he was comfortable before tucking him in. Janus hadn’t managed to stay awake from the path from his room to the living room.

 “I- no, there are no records of any of us getting sick unless Thomas is sick, and even then it is never this bad. I… I hate not having an answer to what's wrong with him.” Logan said as he crossed his arms, distress causing his eyebrows to furrow. Virgil worried his lip, between his teeth, he too, didn’t know what was wrong.

-Continue reading on AO3-

#Sanders Sides #Janus #Remus #Roman #Logan #Patton #Virgil #Thomas #text #the fox writes #Sick character

[chicabae]

Whumptober Day 4- Hidden Injury

Read on AO3  CB’s Whumptober Collection here

Top Gun: Maverick

Mavclone

"Pete, why didn't you tell me?" "I didn- I didn't know Beau, I swear. I would've told…you…promise."

The adrenaline from the mission began to wear off as Mav made his way out of the celebrating crowd. Looking over his shoulder, he could see Bradley cheering with his squad. He remembered when that used to be him and Ice after missions and Mav felt a pang in his chest. It hurt thinking about his longest friend, no longer here to celebrate with him. Lost in his thoughts, Mav stumbled over the catch net. Exhausted, he was prepared to hit the rough ground when a pair of arms caught him at the last second. Blinking up, Mav smiled at his savior. Admiral Beau Simpson grinned down at him, hands pulling him upright and settling on Mav’s hips.

"C'mon Captain, let's get you to medical."

Mav leaned a little into Cyclone's grip, "Yes sir," he teased.

He could hear Beau’s little chuckle, "At least your attitude is still intact." They navigated the hallways in silence, Mav rested his head on Cyclone's shoulder and closed his eyes. He took on a slow shuffle and trusted his partner to get them where they needed to be. His body began to hurt and ache the further they went. The only thought in his head was, Crashing two times within a month was not fun.

"Pete, open your eyes for me, sweetheart," Beau's voice was quiet, murmuring into his hair. He hummed back and nodded, blinking at the bright overhead lights. The medical wing was crisp and sterile as always. He straightened up as a doctor came walking over with a clipboard, but winced, the pain in his side growing.

The doctor led them back to an empty bed, but when Cyclone helped him onto it, the pain sharpened and he cried out. Beau froze beside him before he and the doctor grabbed at his flight suit. Finally zipping it open, Mav squeezed his eyes shut as they lifted his shirt, the pain becoming too intense as the doctor began poking and prodding his side.

"Pete, why didn't you tell me?" Beau held him still as Mav tried to squirm away. Chancing a look, Mav gasped at what he saw. His entire left side was a camouflage of purples and blues, cuts and scratches oozed lazily. When the doctor pressed too hard, Mav yelped and flinched away.

"I didn- I didn't know Beau, I swear. I would've told…you…promise," Mavs vision quickly narrowed and the room began to spin as he leaned heavily into Cyclone's side. Breathing heavily, he looked up and met his bright blue eyes, "Tell Bradley, tell him I-"

"I will, I promise Pete, but you need to breathe for me. Just breathe." Beau's soothing voice cut through Mav's panic, trying to breathe in but coughing instead. When he got his breath back, Mav slumped into Beau's side, tears falling down his face, tired and in pain. The doctor left with a few quiet words to Cy and began to talk to some nurses. He slowly reclined back onto the bed, his side pulsed angrily at the movement and Mav groaned. Warm hands cradled his face, turning him to face Beau. "Look at me sweetheart, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," he placed a kiss on Mav's forehead, his thumbs wiping away a stray tear.

"Hurts," Mav croaked. Nurses began to surround them, pulling the rest of the flight suit off and sticking him with multiple IVs. The machines around him came to life, settling into a rhythmic beep.

A nurse came up and began to speak softly, "Captain, you have multiple bruised and cracked ribs and we suspect one or two are broken as well. You have internal bleeding because of it and we'll need to correct it with immediate surgery. Do you want us to call anyone for you? Is there anyone we need to contact for medical permission?"

"No," Mav said immediately, "The Admiral is my-my," the words caught in his throat. He turned despite the burning in his side and began to cough. Beau's hand rubbed his back in sympathy, "I'm his medical proxy and power of attorney." The nurse nodded and wrote that in her file. Mav's coughing fit ended and he lay back down with a wince.

"If anything happens," Mav spoke pointedly at Beau's silent form, "you go to him and only him."

The nurse nodded and walked to his IV pole to inject Mav with the anesthesia. Looking at Beau, he raised a shaky hand and rested it on his cheek, Beau's hand coming up to hold it in place. "I'll see you when I wake up, grumpy. Go eat, talk to Sol, do something, okay?" Mav's blinks got longer, his words slurring towards the end. Beau could only nod, as their privacy curtain was pulled back and the last thing Mav heard was Bradley's loud cry, "Mav? Mav!?"

—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The quiet machine next to him was the first thing Mav noticed as he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes to a darkened room, lights off and the curtains closed. Beside him, Beau was asleep. His head pillowed on his arms resting on the bed near Mav's thighs. One of his hands was outstretched and linked with Mav's. Giving it a gentle squeeze, Beau squeezed back before shooting up, eyes wide. Mav couldn't help but smile as Beau leaned in for a kiss.

"Hi" Mav rasped.

"Hi" Cy whispered back.

"All good?" He asked, his side no longer burning. His husband nodded, grabbing a water cup beside him and raising it to his lips. When Mav was done, Beau set it back before hesitating, like he wanted to say something. Mav gave his hand a squeeze.

"Bradley was here. And I sent him away." Beau looked away. "The squad is fine, you're the only one with injuries. But I wouldn't let him see you. Not yet, at least."

Mav reached out and gently pulled Beau back to face him. "Thank you," he whispered. Even thinking about talking at an average level made his head hurt. "You know how much Bradley means to me, but right now I just need you."

Beau leaned in and kissed him gently. It was just as electrifying as their first.

#whumptober2022 #no.4 #dead on your feet #hidden injury #top gun maverick #cymav #mavclone #hospital #collapse #hurt/comfort #pete maverick mitchell #beau cyclone simpson

[guidedhearts]

❛  you want me, right? so hurt me, and leave them alone!  ❜ ( @eunieinnit shouting at moebius d with taion! )

it’s all a blur , really . they’d gone off in pairs to search for ingredients for dinner , a ‘ feast of the greatliest proportions ! ’ manana had called it , with eunie and himself on vegetable duty . they’d made their way to the previous spot they’d found whisper tomatoes , their last needed ingredient - and a rare one at that - , when they were greeted by moebius d - who appeared to have been waiting for their arrival . 

how did he know we would be here ? 

taion isn’t normally one to jump into battle headfirst with no plan in place , but it doesn’t appear that he has the time to strategize , especially when eunie wastes no time in summoning her blade - she switched classes , he notes , full metal jaguar by the looks of the tattered cape and the guns in her hands , aimed directly at the enemy . he chooses to stay in his tried and true class , summoning his mondo and sending the lethal papers speeding toward him . he can hear d taunting eunie ,dodging his weapon with ease , along with a mention of the past and how she should be afraid , to which she responds in her eunie way with , ‘ i’m not snuffin’ afraid of you , bastard ! ’ and dodging another attack aimed at her . he’s definitely focused on the winged girl , taion thinks , and almost manages a good hit but is immediately blocked by the mondo forming a defensive wall in front of her . 

this interference draws the attention to him now .

taion has never been the quickest , nor the strongest of any of the groups he’s been assigned . his strength is his brain , being strategic and prepared at all times . he’s still an asset on the battlefield , especially with his mondo moving faster than most could ever dream of , but when it comes down to just taion and his own strength alone , that’s where things could be considered dicey . 

perhaps if he had more time to prepare , to think through their next steps , he’d have avoided capture by the enemy , alas … here he is now , the man having moved too fast for him to process , now grasping him by the throat . his feet are lifted off the ground , and very briefly does a fun little fact cross his mind - he’d read once , asphyxiation takes 10 seconds to cause unconsciousness when done , well , correctly , and mere minutes to end a life . 

because obviously this is what he needs to be thinking about right now . 

logical thinking goes out the window at that thought , now in fight or flight mode as he kicks at the enemy , desperately trying to gain control over his mondo once more . it’s been at least 5 seconds by now as time as slows down around him , everything becoming blurry and wrong . his whole body has already started growing numb and he’s certain he’s no longer kicking anymore . 

so this is how it ends ? 

very far away , he can hear eunie shouting something . ‘ — want me — leave them alone ! ’ is all he can really make out , though that still sounds as if she’s underwater and trying to talk to him . 

i’m … pathetic . 

at least i can buy her some time . 

‘ — eunie , run — ‘

it’s choked out , and he’s not sure she’ll even hear his quiet plea , what he assumes will be his last words . but then he’s being dropped to the ground so suddenly , blackness already taking over his vision even as he gulps air back into his lungs , quickly followed by intense coughing  . the world still spinning around him , throat and lungs burning , taion tried his best to make it to his feet but found the action useless and a waste of energy . he’s vaguely aware that d is grasping his own shoulder - if he really focuses his eyes on the consul , he can see exposed skin stained red ( when did that happen ? ) . that must be why he dropped him before finishing him off . he’s also aware that as d barks out a laugh and more taunting words , something comes into contact with his head , and then there’s nothing . 

when he comes to , all he’s really aware of is how much his head hurts . like a bunnit whacked him in the head repeatedly , but instead of with a wooden bat , it was metal and focused on that specific spot . it takes a moment for the tactician to open his eyes , and even when he does he has to blink so many times to adjust to the bright light . is death supposed to feel this awful ? he’s quick to realize that he is not , in fact , dead when the familiar voice of eunie rings in his ears , making his head ache even more . he begins to move , trying to sit up , but her hands press against his chest to keep him down and he finds he has no desire to try testing his current situation . 

‘ … eunie ? what — ah , spark — ‘ a term he doesn’t use often , when he notices the sound of his own voice makes his head pound . ‘ what happened ? ’ he asks, this time much quieter . at least from the looks of things , d has left and she's not sustained any serious injuries .

he wouldn't say it out loud , but that alone makes the pounding of his head a little bit worth it .

#long post #choking tw #asphyxiation tw #eunieinnit #taion * ⟢ ❮ speaking ❯ #🫶 #can u tell my knowledge on anything i just wrote is from google . com #me when i base my facts off of what i see the most in my search results and ignore everything else LOL

[tamaki-kisses]

notes: nervous virgin! tamaki , accidental boner , established relationship, embarrassment , blow job , fem! reader has tits & pussy

+

“tamaki?”

your voice comes out casual and unceremonious, a significant contrast to how the flutters dancing and flickering in your chest are making you feel. they’re accompanied by the heavy pounding of your heart. it’s impossible to disregard tamaki’s pulsating hardness pressing up against you, it’s what put the idea into your head, after all.

“hm?”

he’s securely clutching you from behind, like a koala bear hanging from a branch. his unsteady breath faintly tickles the back of your neck and the fine hairs coating it. you shiver involuntarily, agonizing over how you’re going to possibly word this. he’s obviously not going to bring attention to his little ‘issue’ and your own tingling heat between your legs makes it difficult to ignore. if anyone’s going to address it… it’s you.

you’re apprehensive and contemplating against his stiff radiating warmth before finally forcing the proposition out into the shared air between you both.

“you know, if you want…” the fluttering takes steep whoosh into your stomach. tamaki’s slender fingers continue to tap on your midsection with a false sense of composure. “i could give you a blowjob.”

a panicked gasp reaches your ear immediately and you’re not at all surprised when the hotness of his erection is pulled away from you. that inital reaction gets a wince out of you as you sit up on your side just in time to see tamaki scramble across your bed to lean against the wall. he soon covers his lap with a spare blanket and refuses to even glance in your direction. his long ears droop, a cherry redness reaching the tips.

“you don’t have to do that… i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean for that to happen… it’s just sometimes- i don’t know… having you so close to me is a lot- oh no, i sound like a pervert, i swear i’m not a pervert…”

his frantic rambling eventually trails off on its own and you give a chance to somewhat recover before responding. “it’s okay. really, i swear. it’s fine, i don’t think you’re a pervert. and i actually want to, you know, suck you off…”

that last part makes your face flush, your cheeks igniting fiercely, but you manage to keep your relaxed demeanor up for his sake.

“you want to.” tamaki repeats, slowly. his dark eyes dart back and forth like he’s watching an intense tennis match before his stare finally lands back on the bed. you can almost see the gears turning in his head. “i just don’t want to take advantage of you…”

the whisper honestly breaks your heart, a bit of sadness creeping in knowing that he worries about that. shaking your head gently, you crawl over to him and rub your thumb over his edged jawline. he jolts under your touch and continues to shift restlessly. you bring your other hand to his warm cheek. a deep sigh, maybe relief, leaves him, but his pretty eyes still refuse to meet yours.

“tamaki. look at me.” you smile lovingly, realizing that you could truly watch him for a lifetime. it’s like gazing at the night sky when he finally does look at you and gives you a view of his eyes up close. “i want to. i promise.”

a peaceful quiet falls over the two of you before he gently moves your hands away and leaves an affectionate kiss on your temple. your skin jumps at the captivating sensation of his tufts of hair brushing against you. “o-okay.”

you’re surprised as you watch him gradually remove the blanket that was once obscuring his crotch. he looks adorably shy, pink face scrunching up in a sulk when you can’t help but stare down at the large bulge straining against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. your clit pulses with excitement, but you shake yourself out of it and try to figure out how this is going to work.

“come over here,”

you laugh softly and slide down to the floor before patting the edge of the bed. tamaki awkwardly scooches across the comforter until he’s perched on the spot you directed. now that he’s close enough, you lift his shirt teasingly and trace your fingers over his firm stomach muscles with one hand and pinch under his knee with the other. he jostles from the purposeful tickling and says your name in the midst of a protesting chuckle. that’s something you’re confident with, but you take the leap and fiddle with the waistband of his pants.

tamaki gulps audibly and nods at you to continue, slightly lifting himself up. you’re able to pull them off swiftly, but your nerves only increase at the sight of his boxers. they’re the only barrier between you and his hard on and it’s a daunting thought. you leave a playful kiss on the softer part of his stomach, but know there’s really no use in stalling this any longer.

you finish stripping his lower half.

from above you, tamaki lets a low mewling whimper go and your already wobbly breath catches in your throat.

he’s big.

sure, you had expected that much from the clothed peeks you’d already gotten, but actually having his cock a few inches away from your face is a totally different story. you can’t tear your accidental stare away; he’s definitely not lacking in any aspects and there’s a single prominent vein running down the side. the head is brightly roseate and already leaking a generous amount of precum.

he doesn’t take your shameless gawking very well, whining your name again as he hides his pouting face in his palms. “d-don’t look at it like that…”

you giggle at how endearing that display is, a nice contrast to his admittedly intimidating cock. it’s when you lean up to leave a feathery kiss on his cheek that an idea to make him feel a little better pops into your head.

tamaki’s still hiding behind his hand as you easily shrug off your oversized pajama shirt and toss it aside. your breasts hang from your chest freely out in the open, nipples perky and interested. you try not to think too much about it as you crane upwards again to attack his ears this time.

he emits a stuttering gasp when your tongue begins to trace the pointed shell of one. you travel down and suckle at the lobe for a moment before whispering his name.

the results are as expected.

his hand falls away and his mouth goes almost slack, when he sees you, hungry eyes going over every inch of your halfway undressed figure. a single restrained squeak, something that makes your insides squeeze with adoration, leaves him.

“oh my god…” tamaki starts to squirm involuntarily, nearly reaching for his exposed cock before catching himself.

you grin sheepishly and almost ask him if he wants to touch them, but decide you don’t want him passed out on your bedroom floor. it’s a real shame though. you can feel your panties grow more damp at just the thought of him nervously toying with your tits with those pretty hands of his.

with anticipation reaching an almost painful boiling point, you move forward to take him in your hand. it’s clear you might’ve done so with too much vigor, or maybe just enough, when tamaki’s hips twist sharply and a loud treble moan makes itself known.

“ahhh-“ his eyes squeeze shut and a hand slaps over his mouth, muffling the light airy moans that soon follow the first.

you continue, head spinning as you have his hard cock in your grasp, and lean in to lick at the head. it’s an incredibly foreign taste and salty to a horrible degree, but you happily lap your tongue over his entire length. tamaki responds with more barely controlled thrusts and wispy groans.

jt’s aggressively overwhelming when you first slip your lips over his cock. the thick heat of it chokes you as you try to get used to the fullness. your jaw is quick to ache after just a few moments of opening your mouth as wide as possible in an attempt not to add teeth to the equation.

you’re not going to be able to fit all of him, but your hand, the one still at the base brushing up against his inky hair, isn’t out of the picture. tamaki keens so sweetly when you start to jerk him off in addition to slurping and sucking his soaking cock.

you’ve only just established some kind of rhythm when his hip movements become more erratic and gasps become shakier.

“m, close-” tamaki sputters out from between his fingers to your surprise. already? you take it as a sort of compliment and trek on.

the noise that’s created from you practically inhaling the tip of his cock makes your head spin with electrifying excitement. your bare thighs stick together with both sweat and slick and you allow your free hand to sneak over and grope at your clothed pussy.

you feel tamaki tense, another squeak pulled from the depths of his throat. “-move!”

even though the idea of swallowing entices you, his warning doesn’t go ignored and you slip off him with a resounding pop.

at just the right moment.

you look up to see tamaki reach his climax and are instead caught off guard as spurts of thick cum splash onto your flushed cheeks. a gasp leaves you while some of it splatters onto your bare chest. you still manage to catch him riding out the last of his orgasm; eyes pinched shut, pointed ears twitching along with his cock, and hand still acting as barrier against all of his lovely groans and cries.

in the second before tamaki gathers himself and inevitably panics at the sight of you, you’re still wishing you would’ve swallowed…

#kisses4tamaki #tamaki amajiki #tamaki amajiki smut #tamaki smut #bnha smut

[roughentumble]

Pay Me Some Mind, Love

Geraskier, explicit, 5k. Here’s the AO3 link

SUMMARY:: Jaskier and Geralt confess their love, and Geralt prepares to live happily ever after with him, only to discover Jaskier is a rather selfish lover. It stings a bit, of course, but perhaps lessons are in order...

(top!geralt for the majority. bottom!geralt only briefly mentioned)

@greyduckgreygoose​ asked to be @’ed when/if i ever got around to writing the concept, and thanks to the lovely @hale-of-stiles-heart for giving it a once-over for me before posting.

FIC::

Jaskier settles between Geralt's thighs, nudging them wider, pressing in closer, and Geralt finally gets what Jaskier is aiming at. "I don't usually..." he starts, hands on Jaskier's shoulders.

"Don't usually what?" he asks, brow furrowed adorably, head cocked in confusion. He's a bit breathless already, just from kissing, and Geralt's heart swells at the sight of him. It's not that Geralt hates bottoming. And Jaskier's so eager, surely this one time wouldn't hurt.

It's their first time together, and the mutual confession had been so wonderful, heads spinning with love and promises and devotion-- Geralt can give him this, it's no hardship. He smiles and tugs Jaskier back in, nuzzling their noses together. "It's nothing, don't worry about it." Jaskier's answering smile makes him melt. This will be good.

==========

Fifteen minutes later and Geralt wonders what just happened. Cum leaks out of him. He's just as hard as he'd been when they started this little tryst. And Jaskier snores beside him-- already asleep.

So-- okay, it wasn't the most mind-blowing first time. Perhaps it was the anticipation, mythologizing everything in his mind. And perhaps Jaskier was one of those men who fell asleep right afterwards no matter what, the hormone changes effecting them more intensely than others. Geralt would never begrudge someone that. Especially not Jaskier, whom he loves so dearly. He sighs at the erection he will apparently have to deal with himself, but still leans over to kiss his sleeping partner on the temple.

He snuffles sweetly in his sleep, and Geralt's heart clenches with love once more.

The next time will be better.

==========

It...

Is not.

Geralt wonders why Jaskier doesn't even bother getting a hand on his dick. Being a quick shot, he would understand, falling asleep he gets, but not even attempting to touch him? To bring him off at all?

How strange...

And kind of worrying.

============

"Hey," he asks the third time, before Jaskier can fall asleep. "Are you still planning on performing tonight?"

"Yeah, my nap shouldn't interfere with getting downstairs in time. Thank you for worrying, though, love." he says. He doesn't sound tired in the slightest. He rolls over and falls asleep, apparently just by choice, because he just wants to nap, and NOT due to any sudden hormone dumps.

Geralt is still hard. Jaskier hasn't touched him there beyond a flirty squeeze once.

Fuck.

=============

Okay, so his boyfriend is a selfish lover. Not... ideal. They'll need to talk about it.

...Geralt HATES having talks like this.

==============

He works out a whole speech in his mind, really he does, and he's going to approach it gently. Delicately. He's going to be a good boyfriend, and he's going to give Jaskier so much space to be upset because it's a very delicate and personal thing, sex.

But then Jaskier overhears a snippet in a tavern, and he snorts derisively into his ale about braggarts, about the ridiculousness of sex lasting more than an hour. "The stories people invent, trying to one up each other." he says, rolling his eyes in good humor.

Geralt feels a brow twitch. "I've had sex that lasted that long. Longer, even." Jaskier laughs, a loud, boisterous sound, and the irritation grows.

"Oh come on, don't be preposterous. Everyone says that to make themselves sound better, but it doesn't really happen."

"It does. Not every time, surely, the world'd never get anything done, but sometimes. Are you saying you've never had sex last longer than a few minutes?"

Jaskier flushes a bit, mouth twisting down into a derisive frown. "So what if I am? I'm right, there's no reason to do it any longer, not unless you want to chafe. It's all for bragging rights, not about actually feeling good. It's useless."

Geralt should be nicer about this. About his stupid, pretty, awful, selfish boyfriend's myopic views on sex. He should be nicer, because they're new and fragile and despite it all he wants this to work, because the love is true. Instead, what he says is a sharp "And the not bringing your partners off, is that because it's useless too?"

Jaskier sputters into his drink, eyes wide with shock. "Wh-- that-- I'll have you know I'm an EXCELLENT lover!"

"Right," Geralt replies calmly, "that's why you barely take any time, and never give a good reach around. All hallmarks of excellent lovers."

"You!" he replies in outrage, puffing up angrily. "There isn't a point, actually." he replies hotly. "Sex is about feeling good, I've just refined the system. If they want to get off the best they can, they can take themselves in hand. We both reach absolute bliss with absolute efficiency."

"You think whatever little peak you can reach in fifteen minutes is the same as the pleasure reached in hours?" he's not sure he can believe what he's hearing.

"It's all the same end point, isn't it? And like I said, it's not normal to go so long, surely it must be a witcher thing." He turns away to take a haughty little sip of his ale. "Maybe your partners feel bored in bed, having to take so long just for one measly orgasm."

"Sex is about feeling good together. Not on your own. What you're describing isn't efficiency, it's selfishness. And by the way?" Geralt leans in closer, lowers his voice just a bit. "It isn't just one orgasm."

Jaskier's eyebrows fly up. "Multiple...? Now I know you're winding me up."

Geralt sends a silent apology to all the fairer sex who'd had Jaskier before he was thankfully taken off the market by Geralt, them and their unique suitability to many, many orgasms in a row. If it wasn't so vain, he would wonder if perhaps fate is real, and his existence was her attempt at balancing things out. He's so shocked that he has no idea what he's about to say, until it tumbles out of his mouth. "What if we bet on it?"

Jaskier looks interested in that-- he loves a chance to come out on top. Little peacock. "What sort of bet?"

Geralt leans in again, to keep the rest of the tavern from getting all the details-- and hopefully entice Jaskier. "We try it my way. A few hours, alone in a bed, just you and me. I take the reins, I set the pace the whole time, and I show you how good it is when both people feel good together. If I can take you apart for hours, and you have fun, then I win."

He swallows hard, eyes flitting between Geralt's eyes and his lips. "And... if I'm bored? If I decide I didn't like it?"

Geralt shrugs, leans back. "Then I lose. You'll get bragging rights, and I'll even admit you've got a point."

Jaskier's eyes flash-- Geralt admitting that he's right. "You've got a deal."

=================

This, Jaskier thinks, will be the easiest bet he's ever won.

Surely some of it, for a few minutes, is going to feel good, but for hours? No way. And even if it does, he can just lie and say it wasn't his thing. It cant be that hard to fake. He is so, so excited to win, and rub this is Geralt's face.

When they get back to their room, Geralt's immediately shoving him up against the inside of the door and kissing him. Instead of fire or passion, though, Geralt kisses him deliberately, cupping his face with infinite softness, his lips moving slow and carefully.

Even with his wounded pride, and Geralt's insults, and insistence that he doesn't know what he's doing-- the kiss is so sweet, and loving, and tender, and he can't help but melt a little. He wraps his arms around Geralt's neck, and opens up for his probing tongue. Oh his sweet, gorgeous, frustrating witcher.

Soon enough, though, he judges himself ready for the next stage, and starts grinding against Geralt's hip. Implacably, Geralt just reaches down and holds his hips firmly, pinning them in place. Jaskier makes a frustrated sound, but Geralt just keeps him there, pressed against the door.

He doesn't kiss faster, either, keeps it slow and deep, only pulls back to nip and suck at Jaskier's lips. He eyes seem alight with amusement, though Jaskier isn't in on the joke. He seems intent on exploring every single corner of Jaskier's mouth, even running along the back of his teeth. He isn't sure what to do with such a thorough mapping.

It doesn't leave him breathless. It doesn't.

He doesn't know how long passes for the kiss, time stretching out like molasses with no marker for how much of it goes by. By the time Geralt backs away, though, Jaskier's lips tingle, feeling raw from Geralt's careful ministrations. Geralt only pulls away when Jaskier's impatient squirming reaches a peak. He presses one last, chaste kiss to his mouth, then pulls Jaskier away from the door.

"Finally," he gripes, "thought I'd die of old age, lip locked with you."

"So you didn't like it?" Geralt asks, though he mostly sounds amused. He deftly slides his fingers up to push Jaskier's doublet off his shoulders-- oh, when had that come unbuttoned?-- and then back down to cup his crotch meaningfully. "Then I guess all this is just for show." Jaskier's half-hard, and he squirms at the contact, rocking into that warm hand.

"Just anticipation over my inevitable win, darling, don't get too full of yourself." he says, and even manages to not sound strained, which he's rather proud of. It makes Geralt laugh, and he kisses him again, this time short and sweet.

"Fair enough." he replies, brushing some of Jaskier's hair out of his face with startling reverence, eyes unspeakably fond. "Now, let's get you on the bed."

"Yes please." Jaskier replies eagerly, scrambling onto the mattress. He expects the first part to be very fun indeed, before Geralt mucks it all up by dragging everything out, and he's looking forward to that part. Geralt chuckles, but stops him before he can get comfortably seated by the pillows. He crawls up while Jaskier's still on his hands and knees, covers Jask's body with his own. Somehow he's managed to strip to just his smallclothes in the intervening moments.

"Before we get too into it, I want to ask-- have you ever bottomed before?" he asks, chin hooked over Jaskier's shoulder.

"I have. It's pretty good, if a bit more prep than I usually waste time on, why?"

Geralt smothers a flare of irritation at that-- he hadn't communicated his preferences, so that's on him. He takes a deep breath to purge himself of that useless feeling-- and takes the opportunity to delight in Jaskier's scent, burying his nose in the crook of his shoulder. His hands work on slowly tugging Jaskier's shirt out of his pants.

"Normally, I'd want you on your back for this sort of thing," Geralt says, speaking directly into Jaskier's ear, "would want to fuck you face to face, look you in the eye as I sink inside. But unfortunately, for what I have planned, I need you on your knees." Something about it makes Jaskier's hair stand on end, goosebumps raising all down his neck. He decides to ignore it.

Geralt doesn't know what he's talking about. Sex does not take that long, and if it did it'd be boring. He rolls his eyes at the bravado behind him. "Could we just get on with it please?" he asks, tone dripping with irritation.

Geralt smooths a hand down his spine, dips his fingers under the hem of Jaskier's shirt to dance across his bare skin. "Hush. We're doing this at my pace. That's the whole point. and remember--"

"I can call it off whenever I want if I'm getting overwhelmed, right." Jaskier says, cutting Geralt off, repeating what he'd been told on the walk back to the room. "Pretty bold to assume you'll even be able to overwhelm me." Geralt doesn't respond to that, just pushes his hand up Jaskier's back, his palm dry and warm as it glides across Jask's skin.

His shirt bunches up with the movement, and Geralt helps him out of it, fingers trailing down his arms as he chases the fabric. He feels aware of the skin in a way he normally doesn't, and Geralt presses a dry kiss to his shoulder.

Geralt keeps kissing him, pace agonizingly slow, little dry pecks down his back, coming to settle in the dimples at the base of his spine. Geralt's fingers barely ghost over his ribs before coming to settle on the waistband of his pants. "Can we at least hurry up the disrobing, I--"

"You're beautiful." Geralt says, and that stops Jaskier in his tracks. "Let me appreciate it. Let me show you how beautiful I find you."

Jaskier's mouth feels a bit dry. "...Yes, well, that-- g- go ahead, then."

He feels Geralt's smile pressed against his skin.

Geralt keeps his movements slow, light, deliberate. With each patch of bared skin he finds something else to kiss, and his touch somehow wakes Jaskier's skin up, hyperaware of each sensation, even the air moving against it. Despite the agonizingly slow pace, Jaskier finds himself preening under the attention.

He is thoroughly impatient by the time he's entirely bare, though, as nice as it is to be fawned over in Geralt's own special way. He shifts his weight, ready for the pleasure to start.

Geralt just keeps kissing though. "Is this actually going to start anytime soon? or shall I wither away to bones, first?" he asks, derision dripping from his voice.

Geralt ignores him, kissing down one thigh and up the other, and it's lovely, really, except it's boring, and if he thought he could start this bet without Jaskier whinging, he has another thing coming. He kisses one of Jaskier's cheeks, and then the other, and the set-up for a quip about kissing his ass is so perfect that Jaskier can't resist, but then suddenly his cheeks are pulled apart and Geralt's kissing between them, and Jaskier cant help the surprised little yelp that cuts him off, brain short-circuiting at the sensation. "G- Geralt, what--?"

"Has anyone ever done this for you?" he asks, thumb rubbing feather-light against Jaskier's rim. Somehow, Jaskier understands what he's asking.

"N- no, too much foreplay..." Jaskier replies, and Geralt 'hmm's. He pulls his thumb away and for a moment there's nothing. Then, he blows cool air directly against Jaskier's hole. He startles, jumping forward a bit and yelping again. "What the hell was that for?"

"Thought it'd look cute." Jaskier can hear him holding back laughter. "It did, by the way."

Jaskier wants to curse him out, but Geralt finally leans forward, and any complaints die in his throat. He starts slow-- because of course he does-- just little kitten licks. The sensation is all new though, and Jaskier squirms under his ministrations, dick twitching with interest between his thighs. Geralt's fingers rub soothing little circles into his skin, easing some of his nerves, and slowly he finds himself sinking into the sensation. His skin feels hypersensitive beneath Geralt's tongue, and distantly he wonders if the air had actually done something more than make him flinch.

He adjusts his stance so he can slip a hand down and wrap it around his length. His hand moves nice and fast, jacking himself quickly, and it feels so good his toes curl. Geralt allows it for a while, just lightly licking over his hole while Jaskier chases his orgasm. After a minute, though, Geralt grips his wrist and tugs it away.

Jaskier whines and struggles, twisting in Geralt's grip. "What the fuck, let go!" he whines, trying desperately to get his hand back on his dick.

"We're going at my pace, remember?" Geralt replies, placing Jaskier's hand up by the pillow and holding it there. "Hands to yourself. Unless you'd like to forfeit the bet."

Jaskier groans and grumbles, but keeps his hands where they've been put. Geralt watches him for a moment, making sure he's truly complying. When he stays, Geralt pats his hip. "Good boy." he says, and it sends a wave of heat through Jaskier's body, dick throbbing where it hangs untouched.

It takes him by surprise-- that's never happened to him before. He prays Geralt doesn't notice how still he's suddenly become.

Geralt leans back in, breath ghosting over Jaskier's skin and sending another wave of goosebumps down his arms. He licks a hot line from perineum to tailbone that makes Jaskier's toes curl and his breath catch in his throat. Geralt licks him again, and again, deeper than before. It's not quite penetrating, just barely pressing into his hole, and yet it's so sudden it has Jaskier shaking. He dips just inside, and then slowly he circles Jaskier's rim with his tongue, over and over. Jaskier gasps at the foreign sensation, hips rocking back against Geralt's face. "Oh, oh fuck... hurry up, c'mon," he begs breathlessly, rules forgotten again already.

Geralt pays his pleading no mind, tongue fucking steadily deeper into him with no heed to the pace he begs for. His mouth opens wide so he can get that much closer, that much deeper, and Jaskier lets out a reedy sound. Suddenly Geralt's hand encloses his dick, palm coated in oil, and Jaskier jumps at the opportunity, muttering "Yes, fuck, finally," as he starts fucking into Geralt's hand and back onto his tongue, eager for the orgasm he can feel waiting in the wings.

Geralt doesn't let him, keeps his hand firmly wrapped around the base of his dick until he settles before starting to pump again. Jaskier growls in frustration, pressure mounting. It feels good but it's not enough. He moves again, squirming and bucking in Geralt's grip.

"Hurry up and fuck me already," he demands, nearly snarling, and Geralt lets go of his dick to pin his hips in place. He whines and squirms, but cant buck out of it, and his poor deprived dick throbs between his legs.

Geralt remains focused behind him, and it does nothing to abate the itch, the need under Jaskier's skin-- if anything it makes it worse, the constant licking and sucking, the wet filthy sounds, as if Geralt could lick all the way to the very core of him. Jaskier's stomach clenches. It's good but it isn't enough.

"Just relax," Geralt burrs, "it feels good. Let it feel good." He presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the small of Jaskier's back, and he shivers, fingers clenching in the sheets. Geralt's oil-slick hand returns, but instead of wrapping around Jaskier's dick, a finger circles his hole, then presses inside. Jaskier moans in relief, hips twitching-- but he's learned better. He doesn't want it to stop again so soon, so he stays as still as he can stand, silently begging Geralt to continue. "Good boy." he says again, and starts pumping his finger in and out.

It feels so good, the friction against his hole, the well-lubricated drag of Geralt's callouses against his sensitive insides, and Jaskier can't help but moan, arms shaky at finally getting some relief. Geralt's tongue loosened him up enough that it's easy for a second finger to slip inside, though soon enough they stop thrusting and start petting, exploring his insides, poking and prodding until he finds the spot that has Jaskier groaning deep in his chest. "There we go," he croons.

His fingers don't move, they stay right there, making gentle but relentless circles over his prostate, watching as he squirms and writhes uncontrollably. He feels warm with it, sweat starting to dot his forehead, pleasure licking up his sides and pooling in his stomach. "That's it, baby, just like that..." Geralt dots a few kisses over Jaskier's back, then trails them lower, leaning in and licking the spot where his fingers are sunk inside Jaskier's ass.

He gasps and moans, arching under the contact, as Geralt starts licking back inside him, fingers never letting up on their steady motion, tongue fucking deeper and deeper, only to stop and return to playing with his rim. It feels endless, hazy, and Jaskier moans with it, hips trying to rock back but stuck in Geralt's iron grip.

Somewhere along the way he collapses, arms giving out. He turns his head so he can still breathe, cheek mashed against the pillow, feeling horrifically exposed with his face in the sheets and ass in the air, but unable to do anything to rectify it.

He feels like a mess, whining and clawing at the sheets, sweating and cursing, and Geralt stays right behind him, as steady and composed as ever. It does something to Jaskier, to think that, and he whines again, louder, the sound breaking out of his chest as his dick throbs again, precum drooling out of the tip.

Jaskier learns something about Geralt, stuck suspended there on his fingers and his tongue.

Geralt likes to build the heat like a good fire; in layers, log upon stick upon kindling upon dry moss, until Jaskier is ablaze, every inch of his skin burning, a fire in his belly that threatens to consume him or melt him like lead. His thighs tremble from the strain of holding himself up, and sweat drips down his skin to soak the mattress uncomfortably. But it's all peripheral.

"Please," he finally says, not a demand, but a broken plea. His legs burn along with the rest of him, his dick painfully hard beneath him. "Please, Geralt, I need-- I need--" his words slur together, tongue thick and useless in his mouth. Geralt's free hand pets the damp small of his back, up his spine, a soothing motion to offset the slow, filthy grind of his other hand.

His tongue is as insistent as when they'd started, only stopping occasionally to gently suck at his sore, sensitive rim. Those fingers inside don't let up that calm, steady pressure, making the same little maddening circle over that same damn spot over and over and over, steady as a clock, pleasure crashing over him like ocean waves, only without any ebb. He's hard as steel with no air in his lungs and he burns, burns, burns.

It's been building inside him for so long, he doesn't know what to do with himself, he cant escape it, and his hips have no power behind them to even squirm away. It feels like Geralt's hand-- now stopped petting and returned to it's spot where stomach meets thigh-- is the only thing holding him up. He gasps for air like a dying man, and still he feels lightheaded, like it does nothing, and he makes a sound he didn't even know himself capable of-- high and reedy and broken.

There is... something building inside him, though he cant put a name to it. Have Geralt's fingers sped up, or is he imagining it? He cant tell. He claws at the sheets, gasps again, and the feeling creeps inescapably up his spine, no matter how he tries to curl away from it, threatening to swallow him whole, while Geralt's thick fingers move inside him, pleasure zinging through him like a live wire, up and down his spine, up and down. His balls draw up, his dick red-hot and throbbing.

The tension snaps, and the building pressure inside him explodes as his vision goes white.

He cums screaming, the sheets tearing beneath his hands, as Geralt milks him through it all, steady behind him. He barely even registers how gently Geralt treats him, the slow tapering of movements instead of a sudden stop, the hand that guides him as he collapses into a puddle of his own spend. He becomes distantly aware that his face is wet with tears. Geralt pets his flank with firm strokes, shuffles until he's straddling Jaskier's thighs, waits until Jaskier's gasps sound a little less like he's dying. He's briefly grateful to not have to spread his legs so wide anymore, thighs still burning from exertion, hips given out entirely for now.

Then he feels something hard press against his hole.

"Wh-- wha--?" Jaskier mumbles, head spinning.

It's so loose, so fucked out from what must be hours of Geralt playing with it, that he slides in without any resistance, slicked with oil that Jaskier didn't notice him apply. He rests flush against Jaskier's ass, thighs bracketing Jaskier's own, arms slowly sliding up to tangle with Jaskier's and hold him close. He nuzzles sweetly at Jaskier's neck, heedless of the sweat that must now be coating him.

"You had your fun. Now it's my turn." he replies, voice a rough caress murmured right into Jaskier's ear. "Remember, this is about both of us feeling good." Jaskier is dizzy with pleasure, and he whimpers, tries to scoot away, because surely it will be too much, oversensitive and weak as he is-- but there's nowhere to go. Geralt is big and hard and everywhere, inside him and on top of him. Jaskier moans, a weak little sound, as Geralt starts to move.

It feels like there's no more space inside of him, like he can't even breathe, lungs and everything else pushed aside to make room for Geralt's cock inside him. He starts slow, easy rolls of the hips, same ebb and flow as before, and a hysterical laugh bubbles up out of Jaskier's mouth at the idea of enduring hours more of this maddening pleasure. He doesn't think he'd come out the other side unscathed. Geralt takes pity, though, or else has waited long enough he has just as little patience, and he picks up speed as he finds his rhythm-- it's just as measured, though. Precise and punishing, leaving no room in Jaskier's mind for thoughts. No room for anything.

That feeling inside him hasn't had time to bank fully, and every point of contact between them feels like liquid fire, racing up his back, pooling in his hips, his sore cock rubbing against the sheets in time with Geralt's pounding, deeper than Jaskier's taken anyone before. Maybe it's pushed past his lungs into his brain-- cock drunk and needy.

He can't control the sounds that come out of his mouth or his limbs, mewling pathetically as he claws at the sheets, and the whole time Geralt keeps going, steady as a metronome, hands wrapped around Jaskier's wrists in a way that shouldn't make even more heat flare in Jaskier's stomach but it does. He's started to drool as he open-mouth pants into the pillow, yet another liquid to soak the bedding beneath them, and yet he cant find the wherewithal to do anything about it, just lays there open and wanting and takes it.

Jaskier whines suddenly, a wild, desperate, almost frightened sound, because he realizes something is building inside him, again. It's sitting right behind his teeth, hot on his heels, as Geralt pants and grunts above him, and it's too soon, this has never happened to him before, it's too soon. He doesn't know what to do, Geralt's steady thrusts pressing right against that spot inside him, any painful overstimulation turned to pure molten pleasure-- he screams again as a second orgasm rips through him, and surely this time he will combust, burn Geralt and the inn down to cinders, fire and pleasure racing through his veins, racing to see which will burn him up first.

He thinks he hears Geralt murmuring sweet nothings, but it's hard to tell with his ears ringing.

A moment later and Geralt's stilling, grunting, spilling inside Jaskier with one last filthy grind of his hips. They lay there like that, touching from head to toe, formed to each other, Geralt still seated deep inside him as they both catch their breath.

Geralt, of course, is the first to move. He doesn't go that far, just leans back to pepper Jaskier's cheek and shoulders with kisses. Jaskier makes a noise when he finally pulls out, but Geralt's right there to soothe and comfort, hands petting him like Geralt's worried his skin will get lonely.

Which-- it-- kind of weirdly does feel lonely, actually. Jaskier's only peripherally aware of this lonely feeling, though, as Geralt pulls all the way away to get up off the bed. His mind is blissfully blank-- except the raw, hungry, unmitigated loneliness to not be touching. He must make some little noise of despair, because Geralt shushes him again, and soon a cool washcloth appears to wipe away the worst of the evening. He whimpers when it cleans his crotch, and between his legs, the skin hypersensitive, but Geralt is efficient and kindly doesn't linger.

Geralt gently brushes Jaskier's damp fringe away from his forehead. "Gonna' roll you over onto the clean side." he says, and Jaskier nods mindlessly. He finds himself on clean sheets, with Geralt up against his side before he knows it. The aching loneliness goes away the more Geralt holds him, so he burrows into the embrace as well as he can.

It takes forever for Jaskier to come back to himself. It happens in stages, the mindless peace fading into a slow awareness of his surroundings-- Geralt's hand petting his hair, the uncomfortable way the new sheet is bunched under his hip, the gentle ticking of the room's clock. His breathing has evened a bit, but his lungs and thighs still burn, and he finds his stomach muscles sore as well, presumably from all the clenching. He's handed a cup of water before he can think to ask for it, and it helps, but it doesn't soothe his raw throat as well as he'd like.

"Well," he says, voice rough, "that's one way to win a bet." He's trying to keep it casual, as if his whole world hasn't just been turned on its head, but he's pretty sure it doesn't work. Geralt's brow just furrows, though.

"I still haven't won the bet." Geralt says, sounding confused. "We'll have to go again sometime for that."

"What?" Jaskier responds, not because he's opposed precisely, but because it simply doesn't make any sense. "You just went at me for hours, I feel like I just lost a boxing tournament."

Geralt raises an eyebrow. Fuck him for looking so unaffected. "Jask, it's been an hour."

What? That's not possible. Jaskier flops his head to the side to stare at the clock on the wall, squinting to try and read it's face. Oh melitele, his vision's blurry. He's been fucked blind. "An hour and forty-five" Geralt amends-- he must be able to see it. "I had to stop, you were getting too overwhelmed."

"Don't worry, we'll work you up to more." Geralt rumbles into the skin right behind Jaskier's ear, then presses a kiss there. It's sweet, despite how filthy the promise is, and Jaskier's weak, fucked-out body shivers.

Maybe being shown up isn't so bad. This once.

Jaskier's definitely going to find some way to one-up him, though. If only to wipe that smug look off his face. He hasn't figured out what yet, but he'll think of something, he's sure.

#witcher tag #ogc tag #writing tag #uhhhh i dont think i have anything else i usually tag things as #witcher #geraskier #fanfic #*shrugs* ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #hope yall like! be kind its my first time posting smut fdskfjsnk

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 7

Summary: In order to win, she might have to lose.

Warnings: angst, swearing, bit of fluff, sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six  

=================================

Waking up to skies lit by the wintry sun is what Y/N expected. In the back of her mind, she remembers opening her eyes. Perhaps it’s her mind playing tricks on her, but she could swear she heard Aleksander’s voice softly speaking to her. 

Telling dreams from reality felt like an impossible task, but if it were a dream, would she really dream of him?

Death never crossed her mind. She was a soldier in an expendable army for most of her life, yet she never feared death. There was never a lingering sense of what if when they asked her if she believed in life after death, but she wondered now. Looking death in the eye had forced a realization upon her – she would die and achieve nothing. She married arguably the most powerful man in all of Ravka and she failed to utilize it. In the end, her name would be forgotten in history for her plans would all die with her.

Inhaling sharply, she wanted to open her eyes. A heaviness settles on her eyelids, making her groan. Her entire body felt dismantled, every nerve bare, inflicting pain.

“It’s alright”, a hand pressed to her forehead and Y/N frowns. Breathing heavily, she felt vulnerable, exposed.

Swallowing thickly, her eyes flutter open. With blurry vision, she looked up at the dark presence looming above her. Blinking fast, her lips part and before she can ask, cool liquid runs down her parched throat.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes closed again. She needed a moment to collect herself, to stop the world from spinning.

“It hurts”, she mumbles meekly.

“Shhh”, his voice reaches her. “I’m here”, she feels a gentle squeeze of his hand, “You’re safe.”

Resisting sleep, she opened her eyes once more. The sight of his tormented gaze leaves her nearly breathless. He’s still handsome, but it looks as if he’s aged ten years in just a few days.

“What happened?” Her voice is hoarse, still raspy from thirst and sleep.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a week”, his forehead wrinkles, “We’ve just made it back.”

Despite the little voice in his head, the Darkling held onto his wife throughout the night. He kept her close to his chest, running his fingers through her hair. She was exhausted, injured so badly he could hear the strain her body was under with every breath she took.

Her eyes remained closed, her lips slightly parted and his pressed in a thin line. Absurd. It was absurd to think that someone like that – so delicate, so fragile, could have any power over him. It baffles him just how quickly he found himself attached to this woman who was unremarkable in every possible way – or so he told himself.

Truth be told, he couldn’t take his eyes off her since he first saw her. She radiates genuine beauty few possess, a confidence he’s never found in anyone in hundreds of years, and an air of mystery he couldn’t quite understand.

By the time morning light reached their tent, the Darkling just stared at her with care, studying every inch of her face as if it could be the last time he’ll ever be given a chance. He memorized the way she fit in his embrace, the rhythm of her beating heart in the dead of night and every labored breath as it threatened his sanity.

Anger was his best friend for so long, his shield against humanity, but his anger wasn’t all-consuming as it once was – it was directed to those who caused the swelling around her eyes and cuts across her cheekbones.

“General”, Ivan’s head peaked inside the tent only to swiftly disappear once he caught sight of a moment he was sure wasn’t meant for his eyes.

Rolling his eyes, the Darkling gently laid her head down. Caressing her cheek, he let a heavy sigh pass his lips. It’s been too long since he last felt so defenseless and helpless as he did now. He promised himself he’d never feel that way again and yet he found himself in the same cursed whirlwind of emotions as he was in when the fold came to be.

Biting his lower lip, he pushed it all down. If he’s distraught, his people would know. He cannot be emotional and still lead an army. He has to be strong – for Grisha and for Y/N.

“Ivan, we’ll have to find a healer soon”, Kirigan spoke in a hushed tone. Glancing at the tent, he felt a lump growing at the back of his throat. “I believe she’s developed a fever too.”

“Fedyor can try to cool her temperature”, Ivan offers, “He’ll slow her heart and keep her breathing. I’ll trade with him if necessary.”

Nodding, the general was satisfied with Ivan’s solution. For once, Ivan didn’t question why he wanted to protect her. This time, he was offered aid rather than words of discouragement.

“I’ll have to leave some of our own here”, Kirigan looks at the direction they came from. “The Fjerdans came too close and I need to know why. Why would they take my wife?”

Ivan lowers his voice, making sure he doesn’t wake up Y/N, “Perhaps it was a coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. Not when her safety is at stake.”

Nodding, Ivan glances at Fedyor. He’d be the same if anyone touched his beloved. Suppressing a smile, Ivan finally realized it – no matter how vehemently the general denies it, his heart is no longer his.

“What are the orders? I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

“Take back what they took, place their heads on a stake and wait. More should come soon and when they do, I want to know why they came so close to Little Palace and who ordered them to take my wife.”

Squinting, not in anger but to see him better, Y/N frowns, “A week?”

“Winter made it hard for us to move faster and you were in no shape to ride back.”

Letting out a shaky breath of air, she raised an eyebrow, “So you carried me?”

“Ivan and Fedyor kept you alive too.”

Wetting her chapped lips, she hesitated. Her fingers burned, itching to touch him, to intertwine with his.

“A healer should be here any minute now”, Aleksander informed, pulling his hand out of hers as if he could sense her inner battles and decided to help her by removing himself from it entirely.

“No”, she decided.

Standing abruptly, his jaw clenched. Despite his stern expression, his eyes hold all the sadness in the world, pleading eyes that both threaten and adore.

“No?” He repeats with disdain, “What do you mean by no?”

Holding her breath, she endures a sharp pain in her ribcage as she propped herself up on her elbows. Breathing heavily, she directed her determined gaze on him. “I’m human, am I not?”

Squinting at her, his lips part, “And?”

Struggling to prevent herself from laughing at the way he looked at her now, Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Humans aren’t allowed aid of a healer. We go to the medics.”

“You’re my wife”, he remarks almost instantaneously, slightly wishing she remained unconscious for a while longer. If she slept, the healer would have done their job and there would be no argument. There was no doubt about it, their truce was over.

“But I’m still a human. The rest of my kind don’t have the privilege of being married to you.” Her voice is stern, low and frustratingly righteous.

“You need a healer or you might not survive”, Aleksander insisted.

“Then let me die.” She stared at him, no signs of crumbling and it made him feel like he’s drowning.

Rubbing his forehead, the Darkling shut his eyes in frustration. After all the sleepless nights, his head felt like it would implode. All he had on his mind was her safety and now when he brought her home, she refused help.

“What do you want?”

Knitting her eyebrows, she glanced at his jaw as it clenched. “What?”

Her voice is higher, almost confused but he knew better than that. “I’ve known you for almost two months.” Two months too long, he thought. “I know when you’re trying to extort me.”

Covering her mouth, Y/N suppressed a laugh. Truth be told, it’s exactly what she’s doing, she just didn’t expect him to cave so quickly.

“Healers for the First army”, her lips twitch. Pursing her lips, she bites the soft flesh on the inside of her mouth to stop herself from smiling at all costs.

“No”, he spoke through gritted teeth.

Shrugging, she laid back down. “Alright then. I only regret I won’t be here to hear you explain my death to the Tsar and my father.”

Growling under his breath, he swipes his hand down his face. “One healer.”

“Two”, she argued, sitting up with a pained expression on her face.

“We can’t spare two”, the Darkling crosses his arms, his eyes darker than ever before.

Lifting her chin in defiance, she narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Two healers or no deal.”

Releasing a long, heavy breath in frustration, the Darkling felt his insides turn. “Two healers but only for those who can’t get better with a week long rest on their own.”

“Two healers for those who can’t get better in a few days of rest AND the same amount of food and water for the First army.”

Running a hand through his hair, the general’s nostrils flare. Cracking his neck to the left, to the right, he turned his death glare back on his wife. “Food and water are limited for Grisha as well.”

“I saw them eat grapes”, Y/N deadpans. “You have enough, so share. If the First army dies out, who will protect your precious Grisha?”

Folding her hands in her lap, she maintained eye contact with the general who refused to blink. He stared back at her, aghast. The woman was impossible! She made every word that passed her lips a contest of wills.

His jaw set, he moved closer to stand before her. He looked formidable with the relentless, firm pools of black ink for eyes devouring her with intensity, too hard in comparison to what she had seen in the tent. He looked like he could kill her without even putting a hand on her…something she still expected him to do.

What was stopping him? She was far behind enemy lines, no reinforcements and she saw what he can do – he could kill everyone who stood in his way.

“Fine”, he huffs. “Under one condition.”

Rolling her eyes, she nods, “What is it?”

“I want a kiss.”

Her eyes flashed to his. Ringed with golden bruises, she was still alluring – like a wildfire or a storm. No…she is wildfire, a storm. She is deadly and uncontrollable and slightly out of her wits and he’s asking her to be his ruination. It isn’t love, he tells himself, it’s obsession.

Raising her eyebrows, Y/N didn’t bother hiding her surprise. A kiss? Of all the things he could have asked, the big bad general who can summon shadows is asking for a kiss?

A part of her trusted Aleksander and that trust demanded intimacy. She wanted his hands on her – in her hair, his lips on her neck. She longed to be vulnerable and that’s what worried her. Trusting him, needing him, it’s bound to breed love and self-inflicted madness. If it were anything else, she would outright refuse him, but she has so many lives dependent on her answer.

“Tonight”, she decided. If her own sanity is the price to pay, she will do what she has to do.

Nodding, the Darkling retreated. Leaving the room, he opened the door for the healer to enter. Sparing her a quick look, he swallowed thickly as the thought of her willingly kissing him made his heart slam into the rib cage. Even his heart wanted to escape him as it too longed for her hands’ touch.

He didn’t make more than two steps outside the room when a Grisha joined him - one of his many spies.

“What do you have for me?”

The spy beckons him to the side, looking around wildly. “This could change everything.”

“What is it?” The Darkling speaks through gritted teeth, demanding an answer.

“There is talk”, the spy pauses, “Of a Sun Summoner.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Healed, bathed and properly fed, Y/N had paced their room in anticipation of his arrival. She had seen the look in his eyes earlier that day – something between them has changed.

As the door opens, her breath halts inside her throat.

“I thought you were lost”, Genya admitted. “When they found your mare, I lost hope.”

Smiling, Y/N cupped her cheek. “I did too”, she sniffled.

The Darkling felt, more than saw, her presence as he entered the room. He turned slowly, his breath held. Her hair looked darker in the candlelight, its rich color gleaming against the green velvet of fresh sheets on the bed she leaned against. He could hardly speak. The nearness of her, the quiet room, the candlelight made him question the reality of what he was looking at.

“You look better”, Aleksander managed a curt smile, looking at Y/N and her attire. The sheer nightdress she wore was back, perfectly outlining her figure.

“Why did they take you?” Genya asked, unshead tears weighing heavily on her eyes. “Did they know?”

“No”, Y/N shakes her head, “But they found out.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter. Kirigan killed them all.” Y/N glanced at the door where she expected her husband to appear later on.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Y/N felt her heart flip. “It helped me realize something.”

Frowning, Genya waited for Y/N to explain.

“Your General does have a heart”, she states. His request for a kiss lingered in every thought her mind could concoct.

She stared at him then slowly untied the belt of her robe and it glided languidly over her smooth skin, falling to her feet.

His gaze roamed over her as if he is unable to fully comprehend her beauty. Only when he looked back at her eyes did he see she was troubled. 

“Of course he does”, Genya chuckles, “He was most worried when you were taken. He promised he’d kill them all and bathe in their blood.”

“I think I can use that.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Genya’s frown deepened. “How?”

Pressing her lips, Y/N sighed. “In order for me to win”, she paused, “He needs to believe he did.”

“Husband”, she spoke clearly. She feigned confidence, but inside she quivered.

She had barely finished the syllable when she was in his arms, being carried to their bed, his lips already fastened to hers. She felt his lips hit hers like a tornado, his admission of burning the world in her name spinning in her head. It could have been a fever dream, but she would bet her life it wasn’t.

Holding her chin in place, he rested his forehead on hers, heaving from the kiss. She couldn’t open her eyes, clinging to him for dear life, but even with eyes closed, Y/N could hear the emotions thick in his voice.

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not willing.” He whispered against his lips, all too prepared for his hands to roam her body now.

Y/N was afraid of herself as well as of him. He could sense it as he kissed her. He’d waited a long time for her to come to him and now it seems she was more than ready to give herself to him without his talk of her marital duty.

He expected anything but to find her with her arms wide open.  But even now, as he held her, he felt no great sense of triumph.

Pulling the sheet over her, he stood. “I can wait.”

The sheet accented her shoulders and the full swelling of her breasts. The candlelight deepened the shadow above the sheet. Her bare throat pulsed with life. Her face was set in a firm, serious expression that caused her eyes to darken. Her lips were hard, as if carved of marble and he ached to part them into a smile.

Turning away, he began undressing himself for bed, wondering how he could survive a night beside her if she remains as she is now.

She averts her gaze, whispering under her breath in confusion, “Wait?”

He laid beside her, barely dressed at all. She found herself achingly aware of his presence. The only light in the room was from the flames of candles she placed across the room. The light danced on her hair, played with the shadows of her delicate collarbones. At this moment, he remembered nothing of the arrangement their marriage was meant to be. He knew only that he was in bed with a desirable woman, one he never expected to claim. She seemed too headstrong to ever give into his charm, yet she bared herself before him and he couldn’t take advantage of her.

“Why don’t you want me?” She sat up, glaring at him. She let the sheet fall as his eyes met hers, bravely fixing him with her fiery gaze.

Rolling his eyes, he looks away. How can she torment him like this with no shame?

If anything, he felt like she’s attacking him. “I don’t want to hear about how a demon took you by force for the rest of my life.”

“It’s not force if I’m giving myself willingly, is it?” She raised an eyebrow, deciding on a tactic finally. Aleksander is a general, a conqueror at heart and she saw the desire in his eyes. If there was any hope of her plan to work, she had to harness his desire to convince him he won.

Licking his lips as he cracked a smile, Aleksander nodded in surprise, unable to keep his eyes from wandering lower to her breasts. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He wanted to possess her, to claim this difficult, headstrong woman for himself. His mouth came down brutally hard on hers, claiming them, nearly bruising them.

Y/N fumbled with the sheet that wrapped around her, making Aleksander chuckle into the kiss.

“Let me help you,” Aleksander purred and tore the sheet away, pulling it from under the mattress.

Wrapping his hand around Y/N’s neck, his grip was oddly weak, gentle even. She laid nude before him, his gaze fixed on her. He stared at her in wonder; her full breasts, curvy waist, round hips. Then he looked back at her face, her eyes blazing. Her lips were reddened from his kiss, and suddenly there was no power on earth that could stop him from taking her.

“You make me feel”, he pauses in anguish, “You make me feel”, he said quietly, fiercely, “And I don’t like it. I want it to stop. Now.”

He pushed her into the mattress and Y/N saw the ruthless general in his eyes and for a moment she feared it. A general isn’t gentle at all, not like Aleksander could be. She feared the pain he’d cause and the tears that would follow. She feared what he’d do to her, but then the fear she felt dissipated as he spoke against her lips.

“I’ll go slowly.” Aleksander stopped himself, remembering she’s never had a man in her bed before and once he saw the fear in her eyes extinguish the flame he already adored, he reeled himself in.

“Your hands are bloody from murder”, she paused, “But I trust them completely.” Her voice had never been smaller, her hands never as desperate as she clung to him. She wanted to trust the sudden, overwhelming warmth in his unrelentingly tender gaze, but she still awaited the pain that was yet to come. He moved on top of her, his lips attaching to her neck gently as he pressed a kiss above her pulsating carotid, knowing she’s nervous as he felt the pace of her pulse.

With one thigh, Aleksander parted hers. He kissed her again, passionate and slow, distracting her as his hand moves lower, down to the intimate parts she never allowed another only man to see, to feel. Slipping his finger between her folds, he found if applied enough pressure a desperate moan escapes her without a fail. He feels her breathing change as he begins to rub circles, her thighs trying to push against his in a need of more friction. And that’s when control escapes her and she closes her eyes completely, letting the pleasure take over.

Unable to wait any longer, Aleksander pushed the head of his hardened length between the folds, feeling her wetness pooling over as nature’s lubricant. Feeling the membrane, he stops for a moment. Looking at her carefully for any signs of distress, he wonders if she even realizes what is about to happen.

“Do you want this?” He asks again, fearing she may change her mind.

Gripping his arm, she nods. “Yes”, she replies, breathless.

Pressing himself inside, he bows his head in the crook of her neck, growling lowly in pleasure. It’s not the first virgin he had, but it’s the first one that made him want to come on the first thrust.

“Go on.” She encourages him, surprising them both. Swallowing thickly, she sinks her nails into his back, anticipating the next thrust. It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t in pain, but she knew it would get easier as he moves again and she would feel the pleasure again – and she wanted the pleasure more than the pain.

Nodding, Aleksander starts moving in and out slowly, refusing to risk her pain for a little more pleasure he’d find in speed and his untimely release. Instead, he’s using deep, slow strokes with a relentless care for the nerve bundle between her folds. Every passing second draws louder moans from her until he feels her clench around him, his own mind blackening as he feels himself nearing the edge. She’s holding him so tightly to her body, so desperately as she unravels beneath him. Picking up pace, he finally loses control, jerking his hips to meet hers in a deep thrust only to finish deep inside her, allowing them both to breathe.

Rolling off her, Aleksander decided to stay quiet, allowing her to have control of the moment. If she wants his embrace, he’d do it for her and if she wants to talk, he’d talk to her, otherwise, he’d just sleep. It’s been so long since he truly slept – since the day they went for that ride.

He placed an arm around her for comfort alone, not pressing himself closer than necessary, closing his eyes once he realizes she’s not interested in him at all after she came down from her high.

Waiting for a few minutes, Y/N pretended to sleep. After the hurricane of emotions he’d given her, Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She wanted to relax, to sleep in bliss, but a part of her ached. She ached for who she used to be. Would her father hate her for what she just did? Would her people denounce her for sleeping with the enemy?

Her eyes opened wide, finding his are still closed. Lips quivering, she felt herself crumble as tears fled her eyes. She watched his sleeping figure and sighed deeply, telling herself to stop crying. She was supposed to be in control of him, to make him want her and crave her, yet she found it was the opposite. She didn’t love him, but she did feel a connection…perhaps it’s the kindness he showed her when he rescued her or the pleasure he had given her, but something inside her changed and the heart she hardened on purpose found a soft spot for the general.

=============================

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart @xceafh @sanna2020 @tarkanelima-blog @takethee @mellifluous-cosmos @marvel-ousnesss @tea-effect @starlightofsolaria @p3nny4urth0ught5 @blackbirddaredevil23 @sarcastic-and-cool @slytherinsbiggestproblem @within-thehollowcrown @notthatchhavi @musicconversedance @freakytillthemoon  @lgkoval @honeyofthegods @queenmalhinewahine @misselsbells06  @whatthefluffrichard @aami98 @britriestbr @itsfangirlmendes @padme-parker @readingsssssssss @runawayolives @thehighladyofasgard @emlynblack @keithseabrook27 @dailydoseofchoices @deceivedeer​

Part 8

#the darkling x reader #the darkling #aleksander morozova #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander x reader #shadown and bone

[pastelpaperplanes]

Not Optimus

The piece you did of Megs and Oppy cuddling in bed gave me ideas. Fluffy, angsty ideas.

-

He’d been looking for paper. 

That’s all Optimus wanted. He hadn’t meant to spend the night, but it had been so late and it had been raining outside and Megatron had been doing absolutely wicked things with his mouth. 

Things that he had continued early the next morning. Optimus could feel heat pooling in his stomach at the memory of how Megatron had looked at him as the first rays of sunlight spilled into the bedroom, the intensity of his eyes rendering Optimus to putty in his hands. 

Megatron had had a meeting later on that morning, and after much encouragement and bargaining, he slipped out of bed and dressed for the day. Optimus was falling back to sleep as Megatron pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, promising that he would be back as soon as he could. 

When Optimus had woken up again later that day, he remembered that he was supposed to have gone home last night, and he had to work tonight at the club. So he’d made the bed, cleaned up, and borrowed a shirt and shorts to wear on the trip back to his apartment. He wasn’t looking forward to the lecture he’d no doubt get from Ratchet for staying out all night without any word. 

Before he left, he decided to leave a note for Megatron, letting him know that Optimus had to head back to his place to get cleaned up and ready for his shift that night. He’d searched the bedroom and sitting room to no avail. That left Megatron’s office. 

Optimus had only been in Megatron’s office once before. Megatron had left the door open one morning and Optimus had come in with a mug of coffee for him. Optimus felt himself smile at the memory of that morning. Megatron had been grateful for the coffee, looking up at Optimus like he’d been sent from Primus Himself. He’d gathered Optimus up in his lap and kissed him until he couldn’t speak. 

It had been one of the best mornings of his life. 

He tried to find where Megatron kept the paper in his desk. He pulled drawers open to shuffle through. He found plenty of pens and letters, but a quick skim told him they weren’t anything incriminating. He kept looking. It was quickly beginning to get frustrating. Was it really too much to ask for a simple notepad? He pulled open one of the bottom drawers and felt around. AS he reached the back, his fingers brushed against something soft but hard. Frowning, he grabbed the object and pulled it out.

It was a box. It was made of black velvet, and it fit in the palm of Optimus’ hand. Definitely not notepad paper. 

He should put it back. Optimus told himself that he should put it back. It wasn’t what he was looking for. 

But what if it was evidence of some kind, he asked himself. Or at least, that was the excuse he made up to himself to justify his curiosity. He gently opened the box. The inside was cushioned with a creamy gold silk, with the name of a high end jeweler stamped on the inside of the lid. 

And nestled inside was a ring. Its silver shine seemed brighter in the morning light, but Optimus’ eye was immediately drawn to what looked to be an engraving on the inside. Without thinking, he gently plucked the ring out and read it. 

Orion, my darling spark

Optimus’ breath caught. The ring trembled in his fingers and he had to grip it tighter to keep from dropping it. He could feel something spinning white hot inside of his chest, and his eyes began to sting. He knew he was smiling as he held the ring up to read the engraving over and over again. Every time, he felt his smile grow wider and wider, and his vision was blurring with emotion. A weak laugh escaped before he could stop it.

He paused.

Orion, my darling spark.

Orion.

Not Optimus. Orion. This ring was for Orion Pax. That was who Megatron had been holding so close, who he’d been taking to his bed. Orion Pax was the mech that Megatron wanted to marry. Orion Pax was the one that Megatron loved.

Not Optimus.

Optimus wasn’t a simple mech down on his luck who managed to snag a gig as a burlesque. Optimus was a dropout. Optimus was an undercover informant for the Elite Guard. Optimus was… 

Optimus glanced down at himself - at the too-big shirt draped across his frame. At the hickey that was peeking out just under his collarbone. He looked around the office, it finally dawning just whose office this was.

He was in too deep.

Oh Primus, he was in far too deep.

What would Sentinel say if he saw how easily Optimus had fallen for his own facade? Optimus could practically see the smug, condescending grin as it split across the other mech’s face. He’d laugh and tell Optimus that he was pathetic. He’d tell Optimus that he really was an idiot if he actually believed that Megatron would want anything to do with him if he knew who he really was.

And the horrible truth of it was - he was right. 

Optimus was only kidding himself if he thought that this… relationship with Megatron stood even an iota of a chance. What was he supposed to do - marry Megatron to keep up the charade? Stand there while Megatron made vows to a mech who didn’t actually exist? What about when Optimus finally managed to gather enough evidence to put Megatron away for who knew how long? What then?

By the time the tears began to spill down Optimus’ cheeks, they were no longer tears of joy. 

Orion Pax wasn’t real. He never had been. But despite that, Optimus felt bile rising in the back of his throat at the thought of him. 

An image flashed in his mind - Megatron, down on one knee, looking up at Optimus as if he held all the stars in the universe in his hands, and opening this box. He would look Optimus in the eye, and with a happy and hopeful voice, ask Orion Pax to marry him.

Optimus fumbled with the ring for a moment as he wedged it back into the box and snapped it shut. He had to force himself to open the drawer and carefully replace the box so that hopefully Megatron wouldn’t notice that it had been touched. 

As soon as the box slipped out of his fingers, Optimus drew his hand back and quickly shut the drawer. He stumbled to his feet in his haste, and cursed as he bumped into a nearby bookcase. The tears were still coming, blurring his vision, but Optimus didn’t care. 

Moving quickly, Optimus walked out of the office and back into the bedroom. He ripped the shirt and shorts off and slipped back into the remnants of the dress he’d been wearing the night before. His breathing was getting ragged, but he didn’t slow down as he ran out of the bedroom and into the sitting room. It took him a moment to find his shoes - a pair of mid-high pumps that Knock Out had insisted he pay for as a ‘welcoming gift’ when Optimus had first started at the club.

When Optimus had started working to get close to a mob boss in an effort to put him in prison. 

His heavy breathing only made the tears come faster, along with an absolutely pathetic sounding whimper. Optimus squeezed his eyes shut in a vain effort to banish the tears. He didn’t bother putting his shoes back on as he grabbed his discarded clutch bag and ran out the door.

Optimus all but flew down the street, a deafening thumping throughout his whole body. 

He didn’t know what exactly he was running from, but maybe - he thought - maybe if he ran fast enough, he wouldn’t have to face what would be coming next.

———————————

do you hear the sound of my heart BREAKING

ahh this fic left me in torment so why not make it hurt that much more w some fan art :’’

GW your work kills me in the best ways THANK YOU

#in too deep how could either POSSIBLY come out unscathed now #G O D #gw I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again the set up and CRASH was absolutely phenomenal and tragically BEAUTIFUL #transformers #my art #fic #cops and mobs au #cops and mobs creations #megop #tfa megop #megatron #tfa megatron #tfa optimus prime #Optimus prime #transformers animated #submission

[silversatoru]

hands

sukuna x f!reader

a/n: remember that thirst i posted the other night about sukunas fingernails? u bet i wrote a quick fic about it. i am not sorry

synopsis: an exploratory study on the intricacies of what sukuna could do with those goddamn hands of his 

tags/warnings: 18+, pain kink, scratching, mentions of blood, biting, bruising, hitting, blindfolding, restraints, overstimulation, monster fucking, dom sukuna, very soft aftercare sukuna (<3)

word count: 1.8k

One of Sukuna’s long, sharp nails traced down your body, from your neck to your toes and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He placed his talon on your neck for the second time, trailing it down your body again but pressing a little harder this time. Shivers quaked through your body as he left a puffy red line down your skin. He ran his finger over your exposed clit, a sharp bolt of pain and electricity shooting through your veins. 

Sukuna had you completely at his disposal, hands secured tightly behind your back and eyes covered by a thick blindfold. He loved to see you shiver under his touch — quake and twitch as he gave you nothing but the bare minimum. 

You felt the bed shift as he straddled himself over you and leaned down, his breath hot against your neck. His long, warm tongue left a streak of sticky saliva up your neck, and then he blew cold air on the wet skin, sending more quivers through your body. 

“Look at you baby, looking like such a pretty slut for me,” He cooed between licks, the praise coaxing a few soft moans from your lips. 

His tongue disappeared and was quickly replaced by pointed teeth and soft nibbles. Your body gushed with pleasure as you felt a second and third mouth nipping and lapping from Sukuna’s hands at your torso. His ability to duplicate his body parts wherever he wanted gave him terrible amounts of power in situations like this. 

You could barely handle the tripled stimulation, your head growing foggy with desire and your mouth filled with strangled moans. A resounding whimper leapt from your throat as the mouths got more aggressive, dotting your skin with discolored marks. They nibbled and gnawed on every inch of you, squeezing down to give the occasional bite, which sent you spiraling. The sharp pains felt indescribable, every single sting absolutely electrifying. A mixture of pain and pleasure crawled over your skin as he continued to cover your body in imperfections.

“It’s pitiful how quickly you come undone for me, princess,” The words dripped off his tongue like thick honey. 

Your clit twitched at his words, but you refused to be embarrassed or ashamed by how pitiful you looked right now — not when he was making you feel this good.

Not being able to see or resist his actions made them all the more exhilarating, your heart pounding as he sat up. Your skin felt cold and empty without his tongues keeping you warm, and goosebumps trailed up your arms as the anticipation of what he would do next grew greater. 

The mouth that belonged to his face connected with yours, and one of his hands clasped over your cunt — a mouth for each pair of lips. Quivering whimpers and raspy whines spilled from your throat into his, the tongue from his hand working fervently on your aching entrance. The pleasure was almost intolerable as the second mouth engulfed your cunt, it’s tongue swirling small circles around the swollen nub. Your body began to tremble underneath him, your toes curling and legs shaking. 

Two extra arms boiled their way out of sukuna’s body, each lurching foward and grasping a handful of your breasts. He kneaded and massaged them in the roughest way, his nails leaving small scratches as he worked. Two of his fingers grasped each of your nipples, twisting and rubbing them with incredible force — your body twitching and teeth clenching together. Between the rough kisses, nipple simulation, and hot tongue that was eating away at your cunt, you thought you just might combust. Your body was incredibly overstimulated, trembles rolling under your skin over and over.

Eventually his tongue slowed, leaving lazy licks up and down your cunt now. The antagonizingly slow pace made your skin crawl, frustration building inside of you. Your hips rolled out of desperation, you needed more of him so badly — but this just earned a rough a slap to the side of your torso. His motion left a large, red hand mark in its place, your skin aching and tingling as your eyes rolled back into your head from complete bliss.

Sukuna sucked in a sharp breath, it was impossible to punish you like this, ecstasy surging through you every time he inflicted pain on your body. But it was also what made you so perfect for each other, your ability to handle whatever he wished to do to you. Regardless, he’d need to find other means of punishment, like restricting you until the last second — not letting your pretty little cunt come until you completely deserved it.

His second mouth shot its tongue deep inside your entrance, curling and lapping at your hot cavern. A warm feeling began to boil in your stomach, your climax inching closer and closer from the wonderful feeling. Throaty groans ripped through your teeth, your back arching and legs growing stiff as you trembled right on the cusp. Just as you thought you might fall over the edge, the hand disconnected from your aching clit — strings of curse words and echoes of Sukuna’s name flying from your lips. 

“Not yet, baby,” he purred, “You know it’s not that easy. You need to make me feel good before you get to come”. 

You gave him a desperate nod, the need for his cock growing increasingly more intense as he left you laying untouched. You whispered a strangled combination of “yes”, “please”, and various curse words, bucking your hips forward. 

“Look at you, so fucking eager for me,” His voice was almost a snarl now, “Open those pretty legs”. 

You wordlessly obliged, pulling your legs wider and stretching yourself for the ravenous curse. A deep, throaty groan rippled out of his mouth at the pretty sight of you, his own needs growing stronger than his desire to keep you waiting. 

He wrapped his thick fingers around his now exposed shaft, giving it a few lazy pumps as he stared down at your quivering body — your hands still pulling on your knees and stretching yourself open in the most beautiful way. He was aching to stuff himself inside of you, to fill you up and feel you squirm under his grasp. After a few more strokes up his girthy length he positioned himself in front of you, pressing his swollen tip into your clit. Your body jerked and twitched from the feeling, an evil smile stretching across his face at the sight. 

“Maybe I should make you wait a little longer,” He teased, moving his inflamed head up and down the entrance to your cunt. 

A small “no” was all you could manage, your lips trembling as you spoke — but it was perfect. Your fragile state and utter helplessness was exactly the motivation he needed to thrust himself into you without warning. A suffocated scream lurched from your throat, a horrible pain filling your stomach as you struggled to adjust to his monsterous size. 

He grasped your waist with an incredible force, his talons sinking into your skin and drawing blood. The small crescent-shaped cuts from his nails felt like tiny flames igniting on your skin, sending endorphins bursting through your brain. Between the pleasure derived from that pain and your body becoming accustomed to his member you were caught up in absolute bliss — your head spinning and your vision growing cloudy.

Sukuna let out a raspy, feral growl, his pace almost too much for you to handle. “You take me so well, pretty girl,” He mumbled, scratching one of his hands down the front of your chest.

His nails left more red lines down your fragile skin, small droplets of blood leaking down your torso. The continued overstimulation of burning pain and forceful pleasure was enough to brim your eyes with tears, choked sobs beginning to force their way out of your throat. His two extra hands were still working on your breasts too, the lumps aching and smeared with blood from the small wounds he continued to inflict.

His occasional praises were the only thing that kept you sane, your heart doing small backflips every time he used such endearing names for you. The scale between calling you princess and then lacerating your skin and railing you into oblivion somehow balanced itself perfectly in your mind. 

A tight, warm knot began to churn itself in your core, and you began to move in sync with Sukuna’s body. You were so desperate to reach your climax and coat his member in your fluids — you’d been deprived of this for much too long now. 

You were incredibly lucky that Sukuna pitied you as much as he did, because the curse didn’t really have a breaking point. Honestly, he’d fuck you straight through the night if you’d let him, but he tries to limit himself to accommodate to your poor, human body. 

He can tell you’re close now, whispering encouragement and coaxing sweet moans to fall from your lips. When he finally tells you to come, giving you the permission you so frantically needed, you let yourself completely unravel. You melted into a mess of whimpers, moans, and trembles — waves of euphoria surging through your body. Your tight walls became impossibly tighter, squeezing his aching cock and pushing him to his climax just a few moments after yours. He thrusted hard into your shuddering legs, pumping you full of his liquids and snarling strings of curses and praises into your ear. 

The two of you collapsed into a messy heap of contentment, your skin tainted with mixtures of blood, sweat, and semen. After a few minutes to compose himself, Sukuna scooped you into his arms and carried you to the bathroom. He was so incredibly gentle with his aftercare, but you never pointed it out because he got terribly insecure when you did. He hated admitting that he felt more than just lust for such a worthless human like yourself.

“You did so good, princess,” He cooed, holding you tight to his chest.

He untied your arms and removed the blindfold from your face, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. He sat you down in the bathtub and turned on the warm water, using a soft washcloth to gently scrub the various liquids from your skin. Once you were clean and dry he even rubbed some ointment over each of your cuts, not wanting them to get inflamed or infected. 

After making up for the damage he did to your frail body, he effortlessly lifted you back up and carried you back to bed. The two of you laid in silence while he played with your hair, softly scratching and massaging your scalp with the same nails that had done such serious damage earlier. They were much more soothing now, the soft sensation helping you to drift closer to sleep while you laid curled in his arms.

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