#and that you know. it'd involve having to curve back in rather than just the stylized Concave Line before the angle dramatically changes

[betweenthings2]

13 for the one word prompts!

Thank you for the ask!! The list is here if anyone else wants to see it =)

One word prompts- Dancing

Matty stops, shaking his head and laughing, and says, "Dancing involves not tripping over each other, ya'know."

George frowns, his hands on Matty's waist feeling far less sure. "Maybe you should lead," he suggests.

Matty shakes his head. He could lead, he supposes, but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to worry about being in control of everything for once. He wants to follow. "You'll get it," he promises. "There's a learning curve."

"You should lead," George repeats. "You know what you're doing."

It suddenly dawns on Matty how nervous George really is. He doesn't see George nervous very often--he's usually very level-headed and even, a realist. "Are you nervous?" Matty asks, taking his hand from around George's neck and cupping his jaw, thumb running over his cheekbone.

George isn't the problem, Matty knows. Sure, Matty is the one with any kind of dance training between them, but slow dancing really isn't all that hard. The problem is more that they haven't come to an agreement on what they'll actually end up dancing to and the fact that they're both a little bit tipsy and trying to dance in the kitchen in their socks.

"A little bit," George admits. "I don't wanna get it wrong. Not something that matters to you."

"Aw, love, you're not gonna get it wrong. I promise you that," Matty murmurs. "'s just dancing."

"I know," George agrees, "but it matters to you."

Matty stands on his tiptoes and leans in for a short kiss, then says, "You matter to me. I could take or leave dancing. It's just what people do. We don't have to do what everyone does. I mean, tradition isn't really that important and nothing about us is traditional."

"It is tradition," George echoes.

"That doesn't mean we have to. You know how I feel about tradition. We could stand there and make out and I'd be happy. We could sneak out for a smoke and I'd be happy," Matty counters. "It's our wedding. Do you even want to do a first dance?"

"Do you?" George counters.

"Only if you do. Like I said, we could leave after dinner and I'd be happy. We could leave after the ceremony and I'd be happy. I mean, you should let me know if you wanna leave after the ceremony sooner rather than later 'cause I'd change the wine pairings and you'd have to buy me dinner eventually, but I'm happy as long as I'm with you."

"You'd doom our friends and family to subpar wine?" George teases, hands a little more firm on Matty's hips now.

Matty nods, shameless. "I'm not paying for it if I don't get to drink it."

"God, I love you," George murmurs. "I can't wait to marry you."

"I love you, too," Matty responds. "We're gonna be a horrible old married couple."

"I can't wait," George repeats. He resettles his hands on Matty's hips and says, "Let's try again."

Matty drapes his arms back over George's shoulders, and agrees, "'k."

He lets George take the lead again, murmuring quiet instructions and suggests as the need crops up. "Am I gonna distract you if I tell you how much I like this?" he asks quietly.

"Maybe," George answers. "Tell me anyway?"

"Ok. I really like this," Matty says. "It feels," he pauses, "intimate, like there's no one but us. I like just being close. I like loving you. Loving you is the best thing I've ever done. If I did nothing else with my life, I think it'd still be a life well lived."

George stills, quiet, then tugs Matty close, into a proper hug.

"Was that the wrong thing to say?" Matty asks after a few moments of quiet

"No," George murmurs. "I love you. I love our life and I'm really glad you said yes."

Matty smiles and moves so that he can kiss George. "Did you think I'd say no?" he asks.

"No," George admits. "I'm just glad you said yes."

"Me too," Matty agrees. "Me too."

#my fic #matty healy #george daniel #matty x george #sun to me m+g is that you

[shamefulwitch]

Imagine drabble

You're at a club after your hero shift, it's dark out, roughly 10pm outside. The whole club is just radiating music from others chatting away, dancing, clinking drinks. Your watch partner - who you happened to be very much friends with benefits - was even in that club. You wanted to relax. Enjoy your time.. but somehow he was on your mind. Tokoyami Fumikage. He was all you can think about. That handsome man with that shitty bird head.. his shitty little friend too. God, that shadow really annoyed the shit out of you sometimes - but hey.. two is better than just one -. Now, now, it wasn't time to dwell on him.. despite the fact you hadn't seen him lingering in the corner of the club. He's been watching you. You two had this friends with benefits thing for a long, long time.. you just.. never had the guts to say anything else. You were waiting on him, little did you know he was waiting on your.

Luckily before you decided to go clubbing, you had went home, showered and styled your hair. You had some delicious curves that bird would love to indulge in. Right. Infront. Of. Everyone. He was the jealous type. The type that craves you. He wants everyone to know you're his despite you two never agreeing on becoming official.

Curves for days, a body con like dress that had slits from the ankles all the way to your love handles - maybe you were a bit scandalous.. no panties either. Why? It'd ruin the look! Your heels clicked as they headed towards the bar, "Ahh! Isn't it Y/N!" The older bar tender chuckled and suddenly a pink haired alien slid right next to you, "Hiya, Y/N! Coming here too?" She giggled with excitement, Mina was rather happy to see you. Jirou was around, so was Momo. You knew some of the other heros were around too but you paid no mind, a smile to your lips,

"Of, Mina.. shitty week involves a fun night out," You stated, looking to the bar tender to order just a 'few shots' (more like seven) before slinking from Minas side to the dance floor. You're buzzed.. you're feeling good! The music played, bounced off the walls of the vibrating building. Eventually enough.. you're sandwiched, but by who? Certainly not by that hot topic chicken you wanted but by red spiked haired man and a blonde. Of course they'd be here, "You look lonely," Chuckled Kirishima, his muscular body pressing against your spine, calloused fingers slinking just below your ribs, "I agree with shitty hair here," The caramel smelling blonde snickered, his own hands just below Kirishimas, his own muscular front pressing slightly against you, breasts oh so delicately pushed up against his chest.

Your cheeks were flushed, the alcohol flushing through your veins, the way their bodies pushed against you, oh you could just have one fantastic night with these two, smooshed up against those muscular bodies, your eyes closed, "You think I'm that lonely?" You laughed, shaking your head, "You must be dreaming," You teased, moving against both men until the beat changed.

You were pushed against them for a while until they split for a drink however you never left.. but you did feel cold until someone else pushed against your back, a familiar smell engulfed you, "You told me you were heading home, Y/N" your name came off as a warning. A grumble. That man was sizzling, boiling with anger, jealousy- how dare you let any other man touch you like that! Why couldn't you be his! The way your hips moved, the grinding - he had enough and waited his chance.

A smirk came to your lips as you pressed your back into him, you're such a brat. Your ass pressing up so tightly against an semi-erect bulge, you couldn't help it, especially when fingers dug into where the slit in your dress ended, "Oh, Tokoyami~" you purred out, your head falling on his right shoulder, his lips to your left ear and even your left hand came up to cup the side of his beak, "Technically I did, to change.. and then I came here," You cooed, "Remember, my pretty bird, you're not in charge, no where close~"

Oh his blood was rushing. You knew it just by how that bulge grew right against your cheeks and those slender fingers tightened into your hips, "Y/N, you know better," Tokoyami warned in such a deep delicious tone - it had you throbbing.

"Do I? Do I really, my pretty bird?" You snickered and his beak dropped to your neck, inhaling the sweet scent that came from you, "Watching you.. with other men.. You know how bad I just want to claim you.. right here - in front of everyone.. all these heros.. watch as I mark what's mine.."

You broke him.. finally, "Oh but my little poet, you have yet to claim me~" You protested.. somewhat. A lame protest anyway. You were testing him.

"All those nights I fucked you underneath me, all those nights where I had you covered in markings, that didn't say anything?" He growled, his beak couldn't help but pry open, taking a chunk of your skin to bite down. He knew you got off to this pain, you're such a pain slut when it comes to him, "Maybe.. maybe I forgot," A laugh left you, your ass grinding gently as the music sped up, "Oh but my pretty one.. I do dare to remind you once we're back home, maybe those marks will be more noticable. Everyone. Will. Know. You're. Mine."

Witchy note;

Should I make another clubbing one with Shinso? 👀

#boku no hero academia tokoyami #tokoyami fumigake #fumikage tokoyami #tokoyami imagine #tokoyamifumikage #mha x reader smut #mha x reader #bnha tokoyami #fumikage tokoyami x reader #mha imagines

[littleferal]

every time i see a thot post of yours im just like... oh no

anyway i believe that santi is both a fan of edging and being edged 😌 like imagine him looking up at you as he gets lost in the sauce, appreciating how gone you are and the tight hold you have on his hair, tugging every time he pulls away. BUT!!! also the way he laughs all breathy when you turn it around on him, shuddering with every teasing lick -- strap anon LMAO

hahaha you're welcome 😌

mmmmmmhhhhmmmmmmmmm. though i personally feel like it'd be more of doing the edging rather than being edged (at least initially, cos oh boy does a bish wanna top that man) cos it's all about control to him. although i should stress it's not control of you (or any of his other loves), this isnt an ego boost thing, it's a controlling himself thing cos otherwise he's just gonna lose it and he cant do that. so usually he prefers a harder, quicker fuck.

but. you know.

frankie has a way of methodically sneaking past his defences until it's both - a hard fuck but it's drawn out and the wait is wiping his brain. because frankie has to prep him properly - of course mr big dicked does, so stop bitchin' santi. then he's gotta go slow just because and the next thing santi knows it's a confusing mix of tender, slow thrusts balls-deep, and a sharp sting where frankie's got a grip in his hair and teeth against his ear, completely embracing him. it's all the details that get santi overwhelmed - frankie's larger form hot across his back, his sharp teeth but tender tongue and words. how one hand can hold him so safe but the other drags him whichever way frankie wants. they way frankie teases santi like he teases no one else because frankie - only frankie - can go toe to toe with santi without missing a beat, santi doesn't get a choice in being overwhelmed but in the end he doesnt. fucking. care.

and benny has an honesty about him that's there's just no way santi's defences cant fall. how can you really tease benny when it just rolls right off him? because yes he is enjoying this, yes he does want that, benny isn't hesitant or embarrassed in the slightest. so maybe it's quick but it's so overwhelming, it's too much, too good and shit wasn't santi trying to be in charge at the start? except it's all he can do now to stop from cumming so fast, so hard that it hurts a bit that santi ends up edging himself just by pulling benny off him. and benny's fuck drunk expression with spit and pre-cum dripping down his chin doesnt help santi in the slightest, god forbid frankie decides to get involved and take control.

or the way you're a disarming mix of soft and sharp, your curves giving under his hands but you're own gripping his curls til he has no choice but to yield his neck to you. surely santi can let you have just a moment? and then another. just one more to be nice to you. but the next thing he knows all he can think about is that he really just wants to get fucked, please keep doing this.

and and and i was supposed to be talking about being edged. woops. so let's just consider that for a moment, cos it's one of the ways santi shows his love - overwhelming you with drawn out pleasure, some part of his insecurity signalling up in a tiny voice with stay stay stay. so he tries to make it last as long as possible. wants you to pull him in close, the sharp tug at his hair sending a flare of pride coursing along right next to his desire causing a heady mix and a teeth baring grin against your neck.

sometimes it's what he wants cos honestly santi is so fucking filthy and he fucking loves pussy. the guys don't get wet like you, cant soak him like you, dont smell like you, he'd be down there drawing it out for his own pleasure at times. other times he's smug with it by the way it builds his confidence that he - only he - can do this to you. but if you were to ask him for it, ask him specifically? he's so fucking tender, he would give you anything for however long you wanted.

talk to me 🌙

#woops those thots ran off on me #so anyway #lovely to see you again strap anon 😌 #anon asks #strap anon #asks #the poly boys #poly boys asks #santi asks

[keepswingin]

I feel like the werewolves would be afraid of needles. Can you write something where one of them (Wyatt, Willa or Wynter) has to go to the doctor or get a check-up or something that involves them having to get a shot or something that involves needles? And the other two have to calm them down? I think it'd be super hilarious.

ANTI-MONSTER RULE NUMBER TWELVE You cannot, under any circumstances, miss mandatory appointments.

Wyatt stares at the notice for a long time; he wonders when their lives started to depend on scraps of ink stamped fresh onto crumpled paper.

He finds he can't pinpoint an exact moment.

"What's that?"

He flinches at the voice. Berates himself for it as he allows his claws to shred clean through the newly issued notice, tiny pieces of card stock fluttering to the ground as Willa comes to a stop beside him. He doesn't have to look over at her to know that's she's already angry, fingers squeezing tight into already scarred palms.

He lifts his gaze to the forest. It stretches farther than any of them could know, so many acres sitting unexplored and unmarked, waiting. Watching. He thinks that maybe they could run. Maybe they could actually make it away before they even realized they were gone. Maybe they could find a new den before this one was burned to the ground, maybe they could--

"You know we can't," she interrupts bluntly, more of a leader than a sister. "The pups wouldn't be able to keep up with the rest of the pack's pace."

His exhale is sharp, exasperated. "We could carry them."

"We couldn't. Not with the ground you want to cover."

He blinks. Something hot begins to build within him, searing at his insides like skin to silver. She doesn't move to sit or readjust, instead continuing to stand beside him, distant like a shadow that couldn't quite reach, steady like the rock he rests on.

"We could leave them places, then. Scout ahead, come back, rise and repeat, until we're far enough that it's safe for them--"

"That's not you, Wyatt."

The fire within him roars as he shoots to his feet, whipping around so that he can face her. "Goddamn it, Willa!" he yells, loud enough that his voice bounces off the rocks jutting out around them, loud enough that he's sure the entire den has heard him. "We can't stay here! Don't you get it?"

His chest is heaving as the words that had been weighing him down finally escape. The burn inside eases, and it's easier to inhale, but exhaling is just as hard and Willa she's-she's just standing there, why is she just standing there--

"Wyatt," she says, softer than she should be. She's not supposed to be soft, she's barbed wire and sharp tongue. She's supposed to be everything he's not, not a shell of everything he's ever known.

He blinks. Her face wavers in and out of focus, like a camera lens readjusting. Her eyes are fearless, and then they are dull, and then they are empty. Her lips are curved, and then they are straightened, and then they are missing.

He blinks.

His breath leaves him in a rushing gasp as he finally sees her, sees her right here, now, twenty-four years into this forest instead of sixteen, and that fire inside of him extinguishes like it was never there at all.

Burns, never fully healed, litter what he can see of her arms, and nearly all of her body markings are gone, some skin torn from bone, some scratched over like pen to paper. Her neck is slit from one side to the other, cut and patched, cut and patched, cut and patched, the mark left stark against the color of her skin. Her cheek still holds the mark of an alpha, shaky lines atop marred skin, but he can still remember what she had said after they had given her back, lifeless body left in the middle of the forest without any warning after he had searched every creek and nook and cliff.

I-I can't, brother, she had whimpered, clawless fingers grasping at the furs of his vest, blood smearing in their wake. It had been the weakest he had ever seen her. I can't lead them anymore.

You can, he had said, voice far stronger than he had felt. We're gonna clean you up, I'll be right there the whole time, and then you can--

If I can't even protect myself, she had whispered, sob hitching at the back of her throat, how can I protect them?

"Stop doing that," he tells her, eyes flickering down to where blood slips down her wrists. "You're hurting yourself."

Willa looks down at her hands and then back at him, lips pressed in a firm line. Still far from who she used to be, but better as the days ticked by.

"They'll find us, brother," she says then, sure as he's ever heard her. Her right hand begins to tremble, one finger, and then two. "They have no plans to let us retire back into hiding. We're..."

She grabs her shaking hand with her other.

It still shakes underneath.

"We're theirs, now."

"No," he says, strong as stone. He takes a step toward her, pulls her hands into his, holds them carefully tight. Willa's eyes flicker with something he'd rather not know. "No. We'll never be."

He pulls her into a hug, drops her hands so he can wrap his arms around her shoulders, and tries to forget the shaky exhale she releases against him.

"What happens when they come for someone else?" she mutters against his neck, so quiet he can barely hear her.

"I'll stop them," he promises, something tight lodged in his throat as he says it. Willa is silent for a long moment, fingers curling around the soft fabric of his shirt.

"What about when they come for you?"

The den is dark against the curve of the midday sun, hiding away the countless lives within. The wolves within. The family within. Words are hard to find when there is no correct answer.

"They won't be able to catch me," he whispers, like it's a shared promise between them.

Willa pulls him closer, after.

He doesn't let go.

--

The needle stares at him for a long time; he wonders what sits waiting inside of it, grey liquid thick and unmoving as the doctor taps against the side of it, once, twice.

Willa sits to his right, stiff in her own chair, eyes stuck in a stare at the doctor. Wynter is on his other side, eyes flickering between the needle and him. They are both free to move, but fear stops them still. He is strapped to a medical chair, two wrists snapped against soft leather.

Just in case, the doctor had assured easily, tone smooth as silk, pulling tight on mud-brown restraints, you never know what could happen.

"Now then," the doctor says, smiling Wyatt's way as he sides over closer, resting one hand on Wyatt's forearm. He is an older man with a balding head and too easy of a smile. Wyatt thinks he fits perfectly for a job such as this one, because anyone who helped this town do such things was sure to be unhinged in their own special way. "I'll count to three and the needle will be in and out. Will we need any assistance today?"

Wyatt's eyes drift over to his sister's stony expression.

(He knows what hides behind it.)

"No," he whispers. The last thing he wanted was more men, men with guns or tasers or worse.

"Very well," the doctor replies as he angles the needle. "One, two--"

As soon as the needle enters his skin, Wyatt knows something is wrong. The liquid inside moves slow, far too slow, and his arm locks up as soon as it flows into his skin. The burn comes after, soft and then burning, burning, burning--

His whole world is on fire before he can utter a single word.

--

He's laying in the forest, grass peaking through his outstretched fingers. His entire body aches with a fire that will not go away, seeping into his bones like poison. His skin is hot, and something wet slips down his arm, dampening his fingers and sticking to his palm when he attempts to curl them.

There's a scuffle to his right.

He thinks that if he's going to die, at least it's in his home.

"Little brother," a voice breathes by his ear, arms struggling to pull him from the forest floor. "Wyatt I'm, I'm sorry I-" their voice catches on a sob he recognizes. "I couldn't-I--"

He doesn't think he can talk.

He does, anyway.

"W-What...what was it?" he ask her, voice barely a rasp. Words hurt, slithering their way right through the fire that engulfs him much like a struck match.

She's quiet for a long moment. He's pulled closer to a chest and he reaches up, hand caught by another and squeezed tight.

It hurts.

He doesn't say it aloud.

"Silver," his sister finally answers, voice hoarse. "When you didn't die they...they resorted to other measures."

He wants to laugh.

He does laugh, the sound disjointed and wheezing.

Skin torn from bone. Cuts. Burns. Skin torn from bone. Scars. Silver.

"We're...quite the p-pair. Aren't we?"

He wants Willa to laugh.

She doesn't.

#zombies 2 #asks #keepswingin writes #mine #haha yeah so about this ask being fluffy..... #um it's roo's fault #and the whump just happens naturally ok