#When their little pouch is yellow like that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ectologia · 5 months

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♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝐼𝒩 𝒜 𝑅𝒰𝒯 ؛ 𝓀𝑒𝒾𝑔𝑜 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝒶𝓂𝒾

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ dubcon ﾉ noncon ﾉ forced breeding ﾉ forced pregnancy ﾉ clit spanking ﾉ creampie ﾉ misogyny ﾉ rut ﾉ baby trapping ﾉ feral keigo ﾉ piss ﾉ marking ﾉ profanity

Keigo’s bigger, softer around the edges but still with that slight cut of pristine muscle lining his torso and limbs. His wings thicken, puffy with a fat down blanketing them with gentle red bristles.

Sweaty too. He doesn’t want to wear any clothes. Granted, he says that all the time. But now it’s not just a want, it’s a need. A priority. He doesn’t feel fit to carry out his primitive desires when he’s being held back and restrained by all that stupid cotton and leather. He needs to be free, needs to let his manhood breathe. Otherwise how could he possibly carry out his responsibility as a daddy? That’s right, he couldn’t.

You leave him to his ludicrous antics of digging out nests in your bed. Making a fine art of curling every blanket, quilt and pillow in the house into a cushty barricaded circle atop your mattress, slapping at the cuddly pile of fabric with an almost crazed look, claiming that your “eggs” are going to be so warm and safe there. Or otherwise scenting you, rubbing his damp neck and hair all over your body, starting off with a gentle kiss to your temple, before sliding down your torso to rub his palms against that little pouch of flesh he knows he’s going to put his babies in, eventually.

Keigo doesn’t like the fact that you still insist on walking around the house fully clothed. He doesn’t, so why do you need to? You’re his mate, his wife, his other half. He knows it’s time to procreate, so why don’t you?

He follows you around the house on another one of your cleaning sprees. His nose wrinkles at the acrid scent of chemicals and lemon in the air, scratching at his throat and burning his sensitive nostrils as you continue to wipe the surfaces and spray away the scent of masculine sweat he worked so hard on drowning the house in. Do you really want another male entering his territory?

There’s only the slightest ring of yellow encircling his otherwise blown pupils. He tunes out after the first 10 seconds of your ranting and scolding. Something about how nobody’s going to “steal you away” if he doesn’t piss on the front door. Yeah, we’ll see about that, he scoffs to nobody but himself, plucking a bent feather from his rugged cape of crimson to flick and mould it back to shape, flicking at the fibrous hairs.

“Keigo, are you even listening to me?” You clap your hands in his face, attempting to garner his attention. “Hello?”

He doesn’t like that one bit, the flailed movements seeming all to similar to an opposing threat, a predator. He blinks away the carnal instinct to rip your arms out of their sockets and puncture your skull with his teeth. “Yes.”

“Well, it doesn’t fucking look like it. Can you repeat any of what I just said?”

“Stop pissing outside.”

“And what else?”

“And on the door.”

Glowing ember’s narrow as you huff, massaging your temples as you begin to pace, stomping about the kitchen with a cloth and spray bottle in hand.

He shudders at the sharp hiss of the pump, spitting at the granite counter and washing away his mark.

“Baby..” He draws closer, wings twitching at the irritating squeak of polished marble. Two large hands, both streaked with thick prominent veins clasp your waist in an attempt to bring your rear closer towards his erect, naked member.

“No, Keigo. Not right now, I’m busy.”

An elbow jabs at his ribs as you continue to scrub away at the surface, leaning over the edge with the pudgy mound of your pussy swaying against his cock and balls with a tantalising momentum.

Before you know it, the bottle is yanked out of your hand and chucked against the wall. The towel clutched between your fingers meets the same fate, ripped in two by a set of talons and left in shreds on the floor.

“Keigo!” You shriek, already pushing against him as he grips you by the neck. “Get off! What’s wrong with you!”

It’s a rhetorical question, and one he has no interest in answering anyway. Too busy with pulling the silk of your pyjama pants down to your toes, along with those stupidly skinny pieces of sheer string you seem to think pass as underwear. He can already see globs of slick bubbling along the apex of your pussy hole. He grins at the sight, running a bent knuckle through the valley of your puffy folds. At least your body knows what it was made for.

“Keigo, stop!” There’s a hint of panic in your voice, squirming as he squeezes the delicate tendons holding your spine in place. Holding you by the scruff as though you were a bad puppy.

He sighs, flecks of spit flying from his mouth in his crazed revolution. His wings extend behind him as he clutches his throbbing shaft in his palm, swirling and bathing the velvety tip in your cunny juice. “I’m sorry, chickadee. But this is just how it is in the real word.” There’s a solemn silence, a heavy seriousness to the air as though he wasn’t rubbing his pulsating slit against your clit, collecting its oozing wetness for an easier turn of events. “You gotta’ take what you want. Gotta’ just fuck it out. Otherwise, we’d go extinct.” He lets out a breathy laugh. “Wouldn’t we, honey bun?”

“Ngh — !” The edge of the counter jabs at your hip bones, rolling on delicate skin that’s sure to be bruised after the ordeal. Your waist bucks as he smacks his swollen tip against your nervous bud.

“Mmh, this is what you wanted.” He repeats the motion, flicking his wrist faster and faster until his spanking becomes rhythmic, slapping the sluggish weight of his member up and down on your pussy. It’s a strategic move on his part, torturing your poor sensitive clitty so you’ll be all that more grateful when he moves on to the main course. “Oh yeah? You like that?” He coos as your back hunches, unsure as to whether you’re trying to curl into the pleasure or away from the pain.

After collecting a sufficient amount of lubrication, he does the same, practically clambering onto the counter with your spine arched in his hands as though he were some type of feral beast or savage hound, hung and ready to fuck and breed his bitch. He squats over your quaking form, shoving you along the smooth surface until his drooling dick nestles itself neatly between the cleft of your asscheeks, bobbing against your scared twat with his tensed ball-sack swinging closely behind.

It’s a wildly contorted position, but one Keigo insists on nonetheless.

“Agh, I’ve been waiting for this.” He grunts. “I’ve been waiting so fuckin’ long, and you just wouldn’t let me fuckin’ have it.” Pulling and tugging on your swollen labia, he separate your sticky little slit until all that’s left to shield you is the tense ring of muscle defending your hole. “Well, that’s fine by me chickadee.” He slips inside with a breathy chuckle, giggling and chortling to himself even as you yelp in pain. “I’ll just do it myself.”

It’s fast paced with an ill rhythm. There’s no love or care to be felt in his thrusts, just cruel harsh punishment, a means to an end until Keigo gets to pump his babies into your precious womb, fill you with his chicks so you can finally be a family. A proper family.

“Agh, and we can do Christmas, and Halloween, and go to the beach.” The thought is almost arousing to him, motivating him into humping your rear faster. “Won’t that be fun, little bird?”

He can be sure you’re crying, or at least close to it. He pays your silent tears no mind, blaming it on the excitement of your new life taking will.

“Kei, please! I told you, I’m not ready!” You arch your neck to plead with him.

His smile falters, twisting into something much more sinister and lecherous. He clamps a palm over the back of your skull and turns you back to the wall, facing your pitiful expression away from him. “You don’t need to be ready. I’ll do everything for you.” A calm hiss meets yours ear. “All you need to do, is lay back and take it.”

He digs into your stomach, smashing your insides to pieces as you lay paralysed beneath him. Cold marble presses against your forehead, cooling your fever as Keigo claps into you from above, a heavy set of hung balls knocking against you.

“Keigo!” You chant his name, broken as you wail out a string of pained moans.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanna hear.” Keigo practically howls. “Let’s be animals baby!”

The domes of his knees crash down either side of you, evidence of his newly contorted position as he ruts into your cunt, foaming at the mouth where his teeth grind. “Yes, yes, yes. Fuck yes. Oh, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum. Gonna’ breed this pretty muff full ‘a seed.”

“Keigo, no!”

Funny you seem to think you’re still in charge. After this, you’re never gonna be empty again. He’s gonna stuff you one kid after another and as many as it takes until you become his cute little housewife. The kind that only cooks and cleans and looks after his babies while he’s out working and providing. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together sweet pea.

Keigo belts with laughter as you scream, thrashing and jerking beneath him as he spurts, spraying his seed deep inside your belly and then some. He slips out halfway, looking down to admire the ring of white sewing your gummy crevice together. “Mmh, now that’s what I’m talking about..”

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petrapalerno · 3 months

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Submitting to the Alien Barbarian #4

Alien x fem reader, a dom/sub erotic short.

TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, breath play, and violence.

MASTER POST

You reach for him, but find nothing but a fistful of purple fur. Maybe he’s finally gone back to the orgy and found something else to rut.

You blink, trying to clear your crusted eyes of sleep. Could you even find your way back to the spawning pits on your own? You weren’t really paying attention to what direction he walked when you were slung over his shoulder.

He couldn’t have walked that far, could he?

With a deep breath, you push your body up to sit; every muscle feels overworked and stiff as you move. Bringing your hands down to your pussy, you wince.

Being overworked is an understatement. You’re ninety-nine percent sure that you’ve torn something.

Sure, you like it rough, but everyone’s got a limit. You could stay here one more night and soldier back to the pits for more fun before you’re taken to the Volkroth nesting grounds.

The actual giving birth part of the breeding program isn’t really the thing that excites you, but it’s kind of package deal. Luckily, you’ve been assured that the gestation time is short and birth is much easier than for normal humans. The Volkroth deliver very undeveloped young and are brought to term outside the body at the nesting grounds.

When it was being described to you, they made it seem like they reproduced similarly to pandas or kangaroos— but no pouch was required. The tiny baby bean goes into some kind of pod, and you can go about getting fucked roughly for the rest of the spawning season. They raise the young communally too, so there’s no expectation of parenting for you either.

Looking at the sheer size of the Volkroth, the whole idea of a tiny bean of a baby seems ludicrous. But then again, you’re no expert on alien reproduction.

You’re just here to be ripped apart, and you’ve still got three months left until the spawning season ends. One rest day won’t put that big a damper on your orgy fun, will it?

The fire you slept next to is low, and you nudge a puck of the fuel you saw Drohako stoke it with last night into the flames. They instantaneously spark and the fire greedily engulfs the puck of dried vegetation and mud.

You’re just about to lie back down when you hear grunting and the hide that covers the cave’s entrance flies open.

The sun blasts into the cave, and your eyes struggle to adjust to the alien sun’s intensity. Slowly, two forms begin to block out the light.

Drohako stands, one arm up, holding the lead to some huge alien animal. As he guides it through the opening, it limps on one of its four legs.

“Stupid Grasyi, I hope the run was worth it.” He barks at the beast that looks like a cross between a Bengal tiger and a moose. As he ties the animal up, you see its legs are far too tall to belong to a big cat, but its blocky head is feline. A set of large and branching black antlers curl around his head. Its striped yellow fur is thick and fluffy, but you can tell it masks how vicious the beast is. The animal’s almond eyes flick over to you as it licks its lips lazily, revealing a viciously sharp set of teeth, it's incisors lengthening out like a snakes fangs.

“Drohako?”

“Who else would it be?” He turns to me, annoyed and scowling.

“I don’t know. I figured you headed back to the spawning pits. Don’t get pissy with me.” I stand slowly and with a great deal of shaking effort.

“And now you’re hurt, too? You, little human, might have eyes bigger than your cunt.” He gestures down to his crotch. His massive cocks are covered with some kind of loincloth. It does little to hide his thunder, so to speak.

You scoff, but he’s probably not wrong. Taking a step forward, your knees unexpectedly give out. Closing your eyes, you expect to fall face first into the fire.

You feel the heat on your cheeks, but not the licking sting of the flames. Bringing your hand up to your chest, you feel Drohako’s brawny forearm. It grips your chest tightly, holding you just above the fire.

“You move pretty fast for a big guy,” you chirp, still woozy.

“You are injured,” he tells you earnestly.

“No shit, Sherlock,” you mutter under your breath, and he pulls you into his arms.

“You will tell me next time you’re injured. You won’t be stupid like this again,” He scolds as we walk further into the cave.

My stomach grumbles and clenches uncomfortably. “Maybe I’m just hungry.”

Drohako groans, “You are both, and you’ve informed me of neither.”

“Sorry, I thought you hit it and quit it,” I laugh. “I’m sure I would have figured it out once I made it back to the spawning pits—“

Drohako wraps his hand around your hair and tugs your head back hard.

“You are not going back to the spawning pits. In fact, you will not leave the home cave,” he seethes.

“What? Were you serious last night? Isn’t that the point of me being here?” He steps over some kind of ledge, and you realize he’s lowering you both into the hot spring you saw last night.

Drohako tucks his legs under him, sitting over his crossed ankles, and cradles you as he slowly brings your body under the water’s surface. Now that you’re actually in it, you don’t think it’s water. It’s not sticky, but it is thick like syrup. It clings to your body and displaces in ways that water wouldn’t. As you lay across his lap, he looks at you with a sour scowl and tugs your hair back into the pool, “Hold your breath.”

You don’t do it fast enough, and some water gets into your nose and lungs. You choke when he lets you up, gasping for air and forcing the warm water out of your chest.

“What the fuck? You’re mad that I’m injured, so you try to drown me?” You sputter at him.

“The frustrating fact that you have no self-preservation skills, and also can’t follow instructions, isn’t my fault…now is it? Quit complaining before I gag you again. The planet’s blood is healing.” He acts like he would rather do anything other than caring for you…but does it all the same.

“Planet’s blood? Healing?” You ask, but realize that he’s right. Your muscles are relaxing, and even your crotch isn’t as sore.

“How injured is your cunt?” He asks as if you’re talking about the weather.

“It’s sore,” you say, trying to mitigate how painful it actually is.

With a sigh and an eye roll, he spins you so that your head rests just below his pecs. You feel pint-sized when he’s manhandling you.

You don’t resist when he pulls your knees apart wide enough so that your feet fall on the outside of his own legs. You watch him with curiosity as he slides a big purple hand between your legs. He rubs broadly over your mound and lips, working the healing water over your pussy.

You ease into him as some of the stinging is instantly soothed.

Your mouth parts as his hand dips lower, and two of his thick fingers run up and down the lips of my pussy before pressing into you entrance. You flinch slightly as he touches your torn skin.

“I should fuck you even rawer for not telling me you were hurt,” he says through gritted teeth.

You wonder if maybe he actually did scrambled something in your brain when slammed it into the ground. A cord tightens inside you as your arousal grows. It would fucking hurt, but in a way, you feel you would like.

You buck your hips a little, maybe giving him the gentle nudge he needs to fucking wreck you again.

His other hand wraps around your neck, squeezing the sides hard. You bite your lip, unable to help the warmth spreading over your body.

“You are an insolent thing who will only get fucked once she listens. You’re going to have to earn these cocks.”

You expect him to move his hands a little faster, perhaps slipping at least one of his cocks up into you.

But he doesn’t. He rubs your torn pussy slowly, and you can almost feel it mending itself, thanks to the weird alien liquid. The new skin that grows is more sensitive than what was there before, and it doesn’t help you lessen your arousal.

“Do you want this seed filling your belly, growing my spawn?” He breathes into your ear, and all the while, his hands move torturously slowly on your no longer painful pussy.

“Yes,” you sigh as he squeezes your neck all the harder.

“Do you want your tight little human cunt to milk these cocks?” He rasps, letting his fingers find your clit. Because the liquid your in, the planet’s blood, is thick and viscous, it lets him glide over the sensitive spot at your pussy’s apex with ease.

Your legs shake as he runs circles around the bundle of nerves, your muscles clasping, begging to be filled up with his thick cocks. You want to feel the delicious swell of his knotting dicks again.

“Please Drohako,” you moan, arching up.

“Do you want to come, little human?” He bites your ear lobe hard.

“Fuck yes,” you say, so close to the edge of no return.

“Then you will fucking listen to me from now on,” his tone changes from sensual to angry in the span of a heartbeat.

You’re surprised when he stops petting your pussy and pushes your knees shut. You're still throbbing with need when he pushes you forward into the pool so he can leave it.

“Did you really just do that?” You pant as you watch him walk back toward the front of the cave, pushing your own hand between your thighs. If you don’t find your release, you feel like you’ll explode and your fingers work furiously, trying to expedite your own ecstasy.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself,” his voice booms as he snarls at you. You jump almost as much as the strange creature tied up by the cave’s entrance. “You will come only when I allow it, and right now, you don’t deserve it.”

Oh. This is a thing, a thing you like. Do you get off on withholding?

“You will let your body heal, you will eat the food I’m about to bring you, and you will stop talking about returning to the spawning pits. You took my knot, you are my mate.” He balls his fists up. “I will teach you some gods’ damn discipline if it’s the last fucking thing I do,” His purple face is flushed near blue as he points an accusatory finger at you.

“Your mate?” You ask, bewildered.

#monster fucker #monster fuqqer #monster smut #monsterfuqqer #monster romance #monster lover #smut #terato #aliens #i love aliens #alien romance #alien x reader #alien x human #alien #Petra palerno #STTABshort

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lovelytsunoda · 4 months

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nation of two // oscar piastri

summary: a camping trip in perth, and a set of missing sleeping bags brings together a pair of childhood friends in a way neither of them had quite anticipated

pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

warnings: lando being a little shit, wee lil' age gap (reader is a year and a half older than oscar is), general outdoorsy activities, forced teambuilding. for all intents and purposes, this is in the very beginning of lando and oscar's time as teammates and they don't know each other well yet.

authors note: I was so tempted to make this a fic for a different fandom but knew y’all would hate me if I started dropping top gun fics out of nowhere instead of the f1 goodness you’ve come to expect, and then this prompt was just so perfect for oscar and now here we are

the australian sun beat down as she trekked up the rocky hiking trail, rugged outdoor shoes digging into the dirt and mud beneath her feet. sweat soaked through the back of her concert shirt, her black bucket hat concentrating all of the sun's rays on her scalp.

"jesus, piastri! how much further?" she whined, taking oscar's outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her up the trail.

oscar laughed, looking over and grinning at how ridiculous she looked with her massive backpack and sweat stained shirt, the hot pink of her sports bra showing through the white fabric underneath the words 'duran duran'.

"don't be such a baby!"

"i'm older than you!" she shreiked, feeling the burn in her legs as she rested her weight on the younger boy. "carry me the rest of the way?"

"no! you have to get to the lookout yourself."

she groaned, rolling her eyes. "then where are lando and will? i'll sit in the damn wagon if i have to. how are you not winded?"

she hadnt planned to even be here. oscar had phoned her late the night before, asking if she would be up for a hike. she'd agreed, searching for a reason to get out of the house. it wasnt like she had anything better to do.

she'd known oscar all her life. in elementray school, they waited for the big yellow bus at the same stop, and were in the same homeroom for most of secondary school with oscar taking advanced classes for his age and y/n sinking down a level in maths, despite oscar's many absences. their mothers were in the same knitting club, and many a night teenage oscar would apologetically come to her house and collect his wine-drunk mother from the knitting circle. (despite it all, she loved nicole. how could she not, the woman was an icon)

"because i'm an athlete and you're out of shape?" oscar guessed jokingly, prodding at the cute pudge of her stomach.

the action gave her butterflies, a feeling in her stomach that wasn't welcome when thinking about the younger man she was leaning against.

they'd always been friendly. too friendly, some may say, eyebrows raising when people heard about the age gap. what did a sophisticated older woman want with oscar piastri?

it was simple: she liked stupid men with hearts of gold. and so far, nobody had compared to the 21-year-old. she was 22, so the gap wasn't even that bad.

and oscar didn't really think she was out of shape. he might joke, but that small bit of pudge on her stomach was so adorable, like a kangaroo pouch in his head, and he dreamed about the day he could cuddle up behind her and wrap his arms around it, skin to skin between cotton sheets.

"shut up." she whined, relieved that the group had finally stopped. she flung down her badly-packed and underprepared rucksack and slumped against it, pulling her hat over her eyes. it was getting cooler, though still humid, as the sun began to sink below the horizon.

"i think it's time we think about making camp." mark webber suggested, stretching out his old man limbs, tapping the giant stick he held as a walking aid against a rock. "this is as good a spot as any. lando, do you have the sleeping bags?"

"do i have the sleeping bags?" lando repeated jokingly. "what kind of muppet do you think that i am? of course will and i have the sleeping bags!"

the mclaren driver sidestepped towards the wooden wagon, dramatically ripping back the tarp on top to reveal the cardboard tent box (which had been duct taped back together so many times that it was more tape than cardboard) and the clusters of rolled up sleeping bags.

one by one, lando and will started tossing the bags at the hikers. in almost no time at all, everybody had a sleeping bag.

well, everybody except y/n.

"oi, orlando, what the fuck!" she shouted, deliberately getting his name wrong. "where's my stuff?"

not looking sorry at all, lando shrugged his shoulders, eyes hidden underneath the brim of his bucket hat. "i guess i miscounted."

"you didn't miscount shit." she glared at him, using both of her hands to flash the man her middle fingers.

lando stifled a laugh, looking over at oscar. "are you sure she's the older one?"

"lando, shove off." oscar defended before turning to her. "my sleeping bag is a double, we'll be just fine. as long as lando hasn't lost the second tent."

y/n chuckled darkly, using the rock behind her to push herself to her feet. "the tent is in my rucksack. there's no way in hell that i'm sleeping on the dirt floor."

"princess." lando coughed into his fist, hoping that neither oscar or y/n noticed.

see, lando norris had a plan. a plan that was formed out of one too many rom com nights with his girlfriend, and an impatience born from watching y/n and oscar run circles around each other like horny dogs too nervous to get to humping.

the way lando saw it, hiding the sleeping bag was just going to help that along.

"anyways, im heading out." y/n sighed, getting to her feet and brushing the leaves and twigs off her thighs. "you freaks better not follow me into the woods and watch me piss."

oscar watched her leave with a dreamy expression as she pushed branches out of the way, stumbling over tree roots and branches. he saw her loose her footing in the mud , scraping the side of her knee on the tree bark.

"you okay?" oscar shouted, ready to jump into the woods after her.

"i'm fine!"

when she came back from the woods, legs slightly scratched up from the way she stumbled, hat dangling from the chinstrap around her neck and her sweat-matted hair falling down her shoulders. oscar was setting up the tent, shirtless as he hammered the tent stakes in place. all in all, the tent was fairly well constructed considering that oscar had done it all himself.

"so, your new teammate is a jackass." she laughed. "who suggested this trip?"

"i did. against my better judgment." oscar rolled his eyes, straightening up at dusting off his hands before peeling back the zipper door to the orange tent. "welcome to my humble abode. ladies first, your highness."

"oh, shut up." she laughed, her face turning pink as she ducked into the tent.

it was a large space, backlit by the battery powered lantern from oscar's rucksack. the soft yellow lighting made their shadows dance as she sat down on the double sized sleeping bag, unsure of what to do next.

they hadn't shared a bed since they were sixteen years old on a joint family trip to fiji and they had been so drunk that they fell asleep together on a sun lounger.

it's okay. you can do this.

"can i have the right side?" she asked timidly as oscar followed her in, zipping up the door behind him.

"knock yourself out." oscar said, avoiding eye contact as he reached into his backpack and passing her a bag of cheetos.

the proximity and the rising heat in the tent was starting to make him uncomfortable. no doubt he was also thinking about the sun lounger.

"i'm glad that you came. i missed spending time with you, y/n."

she laughed, popping the bag open and cursing when she spilled orange cheese dust on her leg. "me too. i've been at a loss lately. a crossroads, if you will. this is exactly what i needed to get out of my head."

"remember what mark said? leave your problems at the bottom of the mountain!" oscar laughed. "just put one foot in front of you and keep moving.''

she grinned, popping a crispy cheeto into her mouth. "easier said than done when thinking about the future paralyzes you."

oscar moved his body along the sleeping bag so that he was sitting directly next to her, his thigh touching hers. the sleeping bag took up most of the floor space, neither of them wanting to lean back, lest they cause the whole tent to topple over.

the feeling of his skin against hers made the hair on her arms stand up, goosebumps following in its wake.

"you'll figure it out. i know you will. have some faith in yourself."

the way the led lantern highlighted every pore, every contour of his skin should have been reserved for the film crew on fifty shades of grey. he looked so breathtaking in the dark that it had just that effect: taking all of her breath away. she felt like she'd been hit in the lungs, unable to think about anything except the greek god in front of her.

and she was going to have cheeto breath when she kissed him.

outside the tent, their silhouettes danced in the half light as she leaned towards him, lips moving to whisper something inaudible but that the aussie seemed to understand instantly, wrapping his hands around her waist to pull her closer.

and when oscar kissed her? she forgot all her worries, this airy feeling spreading throughout her body. the skin around their lips would be stained from the cheetos, as would the sleeping bag where the bag toppled over, but neither of them could find it in them to care, too lost in the others touch as oscar's calloused fingers ran up her t-shirt, gently squeezing the part of her stomach that made her the most self-conscious,

"you're beautiful. and smart. and brilliant. and i'm sorry that nobody has ever told you that." he whispered in his kiss, his tongue licking into her mouth. he growled at the taste of cheetos, something that was suddenly so much sexier than he had ever believed it could be.

"shut up." she blushed, kissing him again.

outside the tent, lando and will sat by a crackling fire, watching the embers rise in the air and wondering if the pair knew that the lantern allowed them to see everything through the tent walls.

"i knew he had it in him." lando laughed. "look at the little guy go."

"should we tell him about the lantern?" will chuckled, popping a marshmallow into his mouth.

"nah. they'll figure it out in a minute when we all start wolf whistling."

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @twinkodium @thatsdemko @userlando @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @lorarri

#oscar piastri x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #f1 x y/n

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cuethediscoandthedrinks · 1 year

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being a little slut for tonowari and cupping his balls in public, getting him all riled up.

could be sub or dom abt it.

agreed, this bby needs it tbh. (っˆڡˆς)

tonowari x teased in heat ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ｡⋆

• and yes, despite being a pleasure/soft dom his knees 100% fkin cripple when you cup his big daddy bear balls, yk?

• maybe you're sat by the seashore early in the morning, just taking in the beautiful hues of pink and yellow, the fresh breeze and salty air. tonowari's laying his head in your lap as you stroke gentle circles on his tattooed blue skin

• initially you'd leave it there, but this bby's little sighs and subtle huffs catch in your ears; you could smell the change in scent ofc, but didn't want to pressure him into telling you that he was in heat, but a little playing wouldn't hurt, yk?

• continuing to brush his thick brown locks with your left hand, using your right hand you lightly feathered your touches along the side of his body. first his jaw, then his neck, his muscled shoulder and chest, lightly brushing along one of his perked up nipples as you went--and the quiet gasp of surprise didn't escape your ears, ofc

• then you went further down, leaving little firm gropes to his pouched tummy and thick, squishy thighs; only to gently splay your long blue fingers across his hardening girthy cock and balls

• tonowari's breathing had picked up ofc, the poor papa bear's heat only worsening as your fingers skittered across his body. he'd just close his eyes, almost willing his cock to calm down; balls to soften and relax; heartbeat to slow, but to no avail

• his wide, light blue tail batted against the sand with a badly-cloaked sense of urgency; you knew he was hoping you'd catch on, which meant this bby still didn't know that you already had.

• he'd closed his eyes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, nuzzling his pretty face into the crook of your pelvis. "..um'ma..love you..l-love you, um'ma..mhnhhm.." he'd lowly whine into you, as his hips began lightly gyrating into your hand

• you'd decided that granting him such a gift of release wouldn't be right, considering all the punishing he'd been doing to you this past week. be it bending you over his knee, laying hard smacks to your bruised ass,

• or making you take him deep into your throat, your muffled gags vibrating up the length of his pulsing blue cock; or even making you lick up his strings of saliva as he spit into your open mouth. with that in mind, this daddy deserved a taste of his own medicine.

• using your index, middle and ring fingers, you cupped his weighty balls in your hand; fingertips brushing extra firmly up against the base of his sack, as your thumb stroked the hilt of tonowari's now throbbing cock. his small whines had since devolved into throaty moans and desperate gasps merely at the prospect of cumming

• his balls had tensed, lightly pulsing in your palm as you began leaving hot open-mouthed kisses to his exposed neck and cheek. this sweet bby only keened into your touches; little low mewls rippling through your body, reaching your spread legs as he hummed into your clothed pussy. likely he could smell just how much his movements and sounds affected you, too

• "..hmhm..you g'na be a good daddy for me, sweetheart?..i don't want you cumming just yet, i want to hear those beautiful noises, ok up'pa?" you'd lovingly hum into his ear in between sloppy kisses and wet lovebites--"..y-yes, um'ma..unhhnhh..t-touch..more, please um'ma.."

• the poor love would only squirm and mewl further as you begin fondling and bouncing his heavy sack in your hand, your left fingers intertwining in his thick locks; you lightly tugged on the braids as you coaxed out all this handsome babyboy's pretty sounds, watching his brows knit together, his face forming an almost pleasureful grimace at your ministrations--"..i know, sweetheart..so pretty for me, such a good love for me.."

i want a lil sub!wari to grope and fondle aaaaa 🥺

#meant to be a lil answer #but ofc like usual any tonowari content makes me write #a lot #idc he's hot/cute/adorable/sexy/fkin thick/daddy/baby/papa bear/babygirl #tonowari x reader #tonowari x y/n #tonowari x you #tonowari x ronal #tonowari smut #avatar smut #avatar x reader #na'vi smut #na'vi x reader #jake sully x you #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #miles quaritch x afab reader #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch smut

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itstheghostofmypast · 7 months

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His Honeybee

Draco Malfoy x (f)Reader

Summary: She was as sweet as honey, as warm as the sun, and as bright as the colour yellow, that would always have his legs turn to jello. Her love for him was as vast as the sea, she was his honeybee.

Genre: Fluff (a tinge of angst)

Warnings: None

A/N: I swear I'm still try na catch up with my requests but please bear with me, I need to get this stuff out of my system from time to time to relax. Please remember to show some love by ❤️ and reblogs.

With a small huff, he dropped his bag, eyes as clear as the lake before him, watching it glimmer under the rising sun. The mist around them had settled to a low veil, only adding to the chilly sensation, nipping at the tip of his ears.

Slowly, he settled down beside a warmer body, moving closer to welcome the furnace-like warmth, earning a small chuckle from the person beside him, his hand reaching to grab onto its counterpart, another half, to complete the puzzle, her hand.

"Didn't I tell you to wear a cap?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper, eyes never leaving the book, colouring book? It was at this point that his gaze moved from her alluring side profile to her lap, noticing the coloured pencils and markers on the other side in an unzipped pouch, then the book in her lap, watching her colour an abnormally large, unrealistic, geometric flower.

"Didn't I tell you it'll mess up my hair." his words came out a bit colder than he had intended to, the irritation in his tone was evident, but it was not because of her, never because of her. It was just the cold and the lack of attention he was being provided, but he didn't want her to think it was her fault, he had always tried to be gentle with her, and a tender undertone would resurface from within him around her.

"Even the one I knitted for you?" she pouted turning to look at him properly, a small gasp escaping her lips as she noticed the little kisses and nips left by Lady Winter herself, all across his face, the pink tips of his ears to the way his cheeks were splattered with pink and the tip his nose of a cute little rosy colour. "You look like you're freezing." she huffed letting go of his hand, much to his disapproval, turning to fish for something in her bag.

"You didn't knit me any....thing" his words slowly died off when she pulled out a woollen cap, with two strings on each side, it was by far the ugliest thing he had ever seen. It was by no means extraordinary, it was in no way a fashion statement or elegant, it was a simple, peasant-like - border line muggle-like- woollen cap.

"Tada! I did, " she gleamed before showing him another one, "For both of us." it was only then that he noticed the finer details about the caps, each had a customised trait. One of the caps was completely green, and in the centre was a woollen heart in yellow, while the other had a yellow base and a green heart in the centre- same design, inverted colours.

"Oh" his insult stopped before it could pour out, luckily the gears in his head had worked fast enough for it to click, their house colours and if he knew her like the back of his hand, which he did, she was going to give him the ghastly yellow one with the green heart and keep the green one with the yellow heart for herself.

"This one" Turning her upper body towards him, her hand reached up to his hair, fingers running through his hair, his eyes instinctively closing at the tender action, letting her touch and mess about his neatly styled hair, anyone else would've been burnt to death, but she wasn't just anyone. He hummed at her little comment about liking his new haircut, his bangs adding a nice flair to his aura, whatever that meant. A few minutes in and he had forgotten why she had begun to gently comb through his hair, basking in the oh-so-needed attention he had woken up early in the morning in the first place for, the need of attention that had him trudging through the damp, cold forest all the way to her, in their little corner, their little lake, just to be with her. An affectionate sensation faded away when he felt something warm sit atop his head, covering his ears, though the slightly itchy sensation forced him to snap his eyes open.

"There." tying up the two strings attached to each end of the earpiece, into a pretty bow she moved back to admire her work. His face had turned warmer, not because of the itchy woollen cap, but her little gesture, her look of admiration as if he were the prettiest thing in the world.

"Why...is it...yellow?" looking at anything but her face he mumbled out a question, he knew which one was his before she had even worded it out, but he couldn't figure out the ideology.

"Well" putting on her cap, leaving the strings undone, she smiled at him, "Because my heart is surrounded by you, everywhere I look, I see things that remind me of you like take this place, it's quiet and peaceful, and it's ours, I found this place because it reminded me of you, how you like quiet places, places where you are free from prying eyes, everywhere I go, I see you, like this lake, it's like I'm looking into your eyes, the way it sparkles under the sun reminds me of how your eyes twinkle in potions class when we learn something new, or how when we go to the library, the section way at the back, with the books no one touches, reminds me of the ample knowledge you have on topics I couldn't even think of, how you're so much smarter than everyone, yet, no one approaches you for help out of hesitance, just how no one goes at the back old isle." her eyes caught how a small smile had made its way on his face, how he was now holding onto her hand again, "That's why my heart is surrounded by you. I hope...yours is surrounded by me." peaking up at him, as he turned his face around, hiding his expressions from her, a part of her wanted to tease him for being shy, but perhaps that was for another time. Instead, she settled back down after hearing a faint whisper, "Of course, mine too, is surrounded by you, silly girl."

"Good." with that she let go of his hand and went back to colouring, letting a comfortable silence settle between the two.

It took him a good ten minutes to calm down, her little confession had his chest hammering against the walls of his chest, demanding to be set free so it could nestle in the warm, tender palm of hers, all pretty and all hers. He knew his palm was sweaty against hers, and he prayed to God that she wouldn't continue with her teasing, knowing fully well he'd either snap in retaliation or just run away to cry in joy somewhere in a corner. The noise of his pesky, beating heart rang in his ears, constantly reminding him of his undying love for her. After the ringing dyed out his attention turned towards the scratching sound, noticing the bold choice of colours she was using to colour the unrealistic flower, his curiosity no longer being confined by his sense of logic as it slipped out,

"Why are you colouring?"

"It's therapeutic."

"Colouring like a child ?"

"Hmm, it's designed for an older audience."

"So colouring is a nice way to relax?"

"Mhmmm..." Pulling out another colour she glanced at him, "What do you do to relax?"

What did he do to relax? Most of the time he'd be too frustrated with his father and grades to even care to relax. If he did ever get a moment of peace, it was with her. As she had mentioned before, he was surrounded by her, his senses were flooded with her presence, he'd be thinking about her more often these days, perhaps because winter break was upon them. Winterbreak meant that the two would have to part, he'd go back home to his cold mansion and she'd go back to her loving parents. Parents who knew he existed, unlike his own, who had no idea who she was or if she existed, perhaps if he could build the courage this time, he might tell them, he was after all in his 6th year.

"Draco?"

"I sketch." the words left him sooner than he expected, it wasn't his fault though, he was too distracted by her curious eyes, her inviting scent, her warm and tender aura, his brain would often short-circuit around her, and this was one of those times.

"Ah...that's nice, I've never seen any of your sketches before." she giggled, once again letting go of his hand to turn to her bag, missing the way he shrugged with a "Burn them afterwards."

"Well" turning to him she handed him her sketchbook and pencils, "Don't burn this one, I wanna keep it safe and close to me." she smiled at his surprised eyes, adding in a little "Please" Much to his pleasure, for she knew that would make him all putty and it did.

A few beats of silence later, all that could be heard was the gentle sounds of nature waking up around them, the sun ever so slowly waltzing up higher into the sky, trying to own the cold floor with its glow and warmth within the winter sky. The birds would often change the tune around them, from a soft melody to a high-pitched orchestra of chirps, much to their pleasure, this was what he loved most about spending time with her, everything would be so pleasant, so calming and so warm, caressing his soul with such a tender delicate touch, allowing him to bask in her presence, a feeling he wanted to lounge in for almost all of eternity if it were possible.

Ever so often she'd notice him glance at her, then look ahead, unsure of whether he wanted to ask her something, or tell her. Truth be told, she had been meaning to ask him something, something about them, but perhaps she was too afraid to do so, afraid that it would scare him away. It took so long for him to open up to her, even after they had become an official couple, at least official enough for their close friends to know, but she knew his parents were not aware of her presence. She never brought it up, even after she had introduced him to hers, admiring how he was able to hold up a conversation with her father, gushing over the way he was being forced to eat more by her mother after he had complimented her cooking. She thanked him with her whole being when he had told her how he felt about her home that night, when he lay next to her, snuggled under the covers with her on her cramped single bed in matching pyjamas, "It isn't special, but I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world...it's warm...and nice...mine is...cold. I like it here, I like being here with you."

A part of her wanted to ask him if he'd ever want to be with her outside of school, or what would happen to them after their school years came to an end. Would their relationship cease to exist? Would their love turn into a bundle of memories they'd turn to in their darkest times? Would she just be his secret lover he was destined to leave? Perhaps she felt this way due to the upcoming winter break, all these questions finally bottling up to the max, ready to spill over. But she couldn't, she had to be careful, for she knew no matter how cold or tough he would act, he was but a fragile soul, always yearning for the approval of his parents, for their love and admiration, especially his father's, one he barely received. So, she had to be careful and phrase it properly, because even if he feared his father, she was terrified of the man, she had seen him only a handful of times at school and if there was one thing she was sure about was that other than muggles, he hated Hufflepuffs as well. Maybe their love was short-lived, maybe she should prepare herself for the day he'd let her go, because in this situation it was not the "It's not you it's me", since it wasn't him, he was perfect in all and every sense, but it was her if she wasn't sorted in Hufflepuff, she was from a more prominent family if she was...perfect like him, maybe, then just maybe, their fates could have intertwined till eternity, if only the stars had, for once, listened to her and not decided for her, it only.

"Oh" his gasp broke her train of thought, "I'm late for practice!" he shot up, looking down at her, who was staring up at him like a deer caught in headlights, face flushed, her cap now covering her forehead, as she blinked up at him. Letting out a chuckle he bent down to brush his slightly chapped lips against hers, fingers gently gripping her chin, tilting her head to look up at him, "I've made up my mind, my honeybee, come with me this winter break, I...I don't know what to expect, but I know for sure I want you in my life, whether anyone likes it or not." With that, he knelt one last time to give her a proper kiss, "Finish your colouring, you've been on the same petal for an hour."

"Draco! Wait!" she called out, only for him to turn his head and give her that heart-stopping smile, winking at her before running off to the schoolyards, not waiting for her to speak.

"You're still wearing the....cap." she sighed before letting out a nervous chuckle, well then, at least one thing was clear, his parents may not need to wait till winter break to find out about their boy's heart belonging to a Hufflepuff, especially when his entire Quidditch team would see him in his woollen cap. Shaking her head, she turned to grab the sketchbook flipping it over to look at what he had been sketching, a soft gasp leaving her lips, as her fingers dug into the paper, eyes turning glossy at the sight. For more than an hour, he had sat there, sketching her, from every dimple to strand of hair, the details added in just made her wonder who he had sketched, for this ethereal being could not have been her. That is until she read the little sign off underneath, "My precious honeybee."

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louloulemons-posts · 4 months

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I was wondering if you might write a story about reader having 3 cats and she is frustrated because no other boyfriend has gotten along with her cats until she started dating Eddie. Please! “Tea and Toast” is one of my favorites!

Little Voids

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Word Count : 0.9k

Warnings : not proofread, swearing, flirty eddie, kissing, just cute cat content, minor talk of mistreatment of cats, talks of witches.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Okay I’m going out now, you three be good okay?” You said, throwing your bag over your shoulder, giving each cat a fuss on the head. “Pepper, you’re in charge,” throwing a smile at the black cat, with slowly greying fur, you headed out.

You couldn’t help but grin when you saw a familiar face, Eddie was leaning against his van, wild curls blowing in the wind as always. “Hey you,” he said, matching your cheesy grin.

“Hey.” Letting your lips brush his in greeting, you felt his hands come to rest on your waist. “You look very cute today,” he complimented. Your face flushed at that, you and Eddie had been together for a few months now and you were still feeling those jitters.

“I got you something,” you said, pulling a small pouch out of your bag. “Oh yeah? What’s this?” Taking it in his hands, he pulled the tie, letting a ring fall out.

It was twisted silver around a deep blue stone, that appeared black when it wasn’t in the sun. “Oh baby, this is beautiful. You make this?” With a hum you nodded, pulling a chain over your head, you undid the clasp.

There lay Eddies skull ring, “Hey I was looking for that,” he laughed.

“Sorry, I didn’t know your size so,” your face was warm at the admission. “You’re so cute,” taking your face in his palms, he pulled you close.

Meeting your mouth with his own, you sighed into the kiss, pulling yourself closer, holding onto his t-shirt. “Keep kissing me like that, and we’re going to have to go up to your apartment,” Eddie mumbled against your lips.

“You could … if you want to.”

“Are you sure? You’ve kinda been weird about me ever coming up. You hiding a husband up there?” I laughed, shaking my head.

“You’re the only one I’m interested in Eds you know that.” He tried to hide his smile, but failed big time, unable to not share a toothy grin with you. “Then why haven’t you invited me up?”

Pushing away from him slightly, you slid the old and new ring onto his fingers. “Well we’d have company.”

“Oh?” He cocked his head to the side, “You’ve got a roommate?”

“Try three. Three incredibly cute, yet needy roommates.”

“So you’ve got a husband and kids?” he joked. “Try three kids, well they’re basically my kids.”

Eddies face scrunched in confusion. “I’ve got three cats, my little voids as I call them. Pepper, Salem and Binx.”

“You have cats?” You nodded, “And you never told me?!”

“Well I’ve had issues before when I’ve dated people. They didn’t like them, wanted me to get rid of them, so when I refused we’d just fizzle. Think you can tell a lot about people by the way they treat cats.”

“Babe! I love cats, oh my god we have to go be introduced.” Eddie grabbed your hand and pulled you back towards your apartment. “Eddie! We were meant to be going for lunch.”

“Forget lunch, this is so much more important.” Eddie bounced on his toes like a small child waiting for you to unlock the door. You were almost in shock at his excitement, most people weren’t fond of your cats.

But as you had learnt, Eddie Munson was not like most people.

Opening the door with a push, you were instantly met with the sweet sounds of chirping and meowing. “I know my loves, I’m back sooner than we thought.”

You heard the door close behind Eddie, who stood in awe, looking at the trio of cats. The three small creatures looked at him wide eyed. “Oh my god, they’re so cute.”

“Eddie this is Pepper, my oldest girl,” You stroked the salt and pepper cat, her big yellow eyes staring up at you.

“This is Salem,” the other female cat looked up at the mention of her name, big green eyes, a piece of her ear missing.

“And this is my boy, Binx. He’s the newest addition.” Binx was smaller in comparison, but still looked like his older sisters, only orange eyes and sharp features look much different.

“Oh they’re beautiful,” Eddie walked over quietly, holding his hand out so they could sniff. Binx walked over with ease, sniffing for a second then bumping his head into Eddies hand.

Pepper followed after, giving a soft purr when Eddie scratched behind her ears. Salem wasn’t too sure, the shyest of the trio, she sniffed Eddie then made her way to you.

“She not a fan of new people?”

“Not really, took her a while to get used to me. Found her about 3 years ago on Halloween, kids being real mean.

“It’s why I have three black cats, people think they’re witches cats. Don’t want the bad omen or whatever, but they’re just big fuzzballs.”

Salem jumped up onto your shoulder with ease, resting there. “Did you want to hang out here?” You asked Eddie, taking a seat next to him, on your second hand, emerald green couch.

“Would that be okay?”

“Course bubby. I’m glad you like them, I was real worried you’d do the same as others and tell me to get rid.”

“I’d never, they’re lovely.” He smiled as Binx climbed into his lap. “Baby Binx,” you spoke softly, “I was scared you wouldn’t wanna be with me, think I’m some cat obsessed witch.”

“You’re a very sexy witch.” Letting out a chuckle, I pushed a lock of Eddies hair behind his ear, “Thanks babe, you’re not too bad yourself.”

With a smile, his attention turned back to Pepper, who was meowing to get his attention. “God maybe it was a bad idea to introduce you.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re gonna pay more attention to them than me!”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : I really hope you enjoyed! I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to write, the writers block is real, I inspired this on my own cats lmao 🫶🏻

Please remember to adopt animals and love them always, they need us to keep them safe and sound 🤍

Thank you so much for reading!

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zhongrin · 1 year

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floaty companion

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, childe, cyno, kaveh

◇ tags ◇ character!seelie, cuteness overload, no romantic pairing but your seelie loves you very much!!

◇ a/n ◇ this is largely inspired by @hiraya-rawr and @genshinarchives seelie!companion and seelie!reader concepts respectively. important: please don’t send in requests for seelie!reader on genshinarchives, she’s not writing for that concept anymore!

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

seelie!zhongli's antennae are abnormally longer than normal seelies and remind you of a dragon’s. his tail is a tad thicker than normal seelies too, and he has tiny claws on his stubby little arm. it’s just as unique as it is adorable.

pee-colored shining golden color. people have mistaken him for a huge mora coin whenever he curls into a ball and has most definitely tried to grab him.

because of this, whenever you’re traveling inside the city, he prefers to bury himself within your hair - or, if your hair is long enough and you wear them down, he would gladly use them as a curtain as he sits on your shoulder. otherwise, he’ll peek out from your coat or pocket. he’s still a curious one, after all!

when you’re out and about is when he will float alongside you, enjoying the scenery and fresh air. careful though, you might want to check on him every now and then, because sometimes he just stops to admire the view. grandpa behavior. oh and sometimes he’ll disappear and return with a pouch of mora… how did he get those? he’s just extremely lucky when it comes to mora, it seems. or maybe he has some seelie mora-seeking intuition. who knows?

always tries to sip on your cup of tea. always ends up 1) falling into the teacup or 2) poured tea all over himself. the day you got him a mini teacup he literally bounces in excitement on your palm.

seelie!al haitham is a silver colored ball (which will magically shimmer green under certain lighting) that trails after you quietly…. until he sees a bookstore that is. in which case he’ll pull on your clothes or ear so you take a detour.

people laugh at you when you tell them your seelie is literate, and they think you’re crazy when you say he’s fluent in at least twenty languages and counting. well, jokes on them, he’s helped you decipher runes and guide you to secret passages in all the ruins you’ve gone to explore.

basically, those trips almost always end up with you finding lost treasures or new valuable information, which meant more mora. which means, you’re kind of rich because of him, and so he demands payments in the form of books and cuddles.

he’s normally very docile but you had witnessed him headbutting a yellow-colored seelie with a brownish tint on its antennae that seemed to be curious of your presence and hovered a little too close for his liking. you think the poor thing is now probably stranded all the way to the sumeru desert. yeah… best not to anger him.

he’ll sometimes disappear off to archons-know-where by himself, but he always comes back within the day. and he always has a souvenir when he returns; from a torn page of a book (you think it’s poetry but you have no idea what it says because they’re written in a language you don’t know) to a freshly bloomed padisarah, it always ends up with you cradling him in your arms and him silently enjoying the extra attention.

poor seelie!kaveh fell onto your bag while you were resting up in your adventure of traveling around the sumeru desert. you take pity on his unconscious form and decide to carry him until he wakes, intending to look for his owner the soonest you return to caravan ribat….

only, what happened after that was him waking up, taking one good look at your face, and now he’s stuck onto you like glue. quite literally. you sleep that night and when you wake up the next day he has somehow sewn a little pocket on your coat for him to ride in.

he brings you flowers or shiny-looking stones at least five times every day. sulks (by burrowing into his ‘home’ on your coat and refusing to acknowledge you until you apologize) when you don’t take good care of said presents.

he seems to become very hostile whenever he sees any silver-colored seelies. they’re a rare variety, but the two times you’ve encountered them throughout your adventures, your little yellow-brown seelie had screeched so loud you think he gave you tinnitus.

whenever you stumble into buildings you haven’t seen before, he’ll dazedly float out from his pocket home and squeak happily. he’ll drag you on a little tour around the building and inside said building if you’re allowed to enter.

seelie!childe is a strange ocean-blue colored ball that seems to be able to produce water out of nowhere???

you playfully knitted him a silly little red scarf to differentiate him from the other blue-colored seelies and he’s taken a liking to it. he always gets pouty whenever you take the cloth off him so you can wash the grime off. how can you know that he’s pouting when seelies don’t have mouths? umm. let’s just say you have a special emotional connection.

super noisy, squeaks and bumps and nuzzles onto you 24/7. will not sleep if he’s not nestled onto your neck. likes to perch on your person, be it your head, your shoulder, or your pocket.

when he’s angry he turns into a purplish color and zaps anything he’s in contact with. sometimes he does this to you when you’re being neglectful of your safety. suffice to say that his shocking (pun intended) warnings have saved your life more than once.

doesn’t do too well in hot weather. he literally melts onto your shoulder and refuses to detach himself. thrives on cold weather; he seems to really love snow.

soft pastel purple color is the hue of seelie!cyno. his antennae is darker colored and shaped like jackal ears.

can summon tiny lighting strikes. you have no idea how that works. just know that your little companion will not hesitate to do it to people who make you uncomfortable.

protective. will float in front of you and survey the area first. you two probably have determined a set of signals to ‘communicate’ with each other. always waits for you to catch up when you fall behind. very rarely he hides in your pocket; even when you fight he’s there as moral support and would act as a distraction to your opponents.

has a very good sense of direction somehow. you’ll never get lost with him around. if you’re going the wrong way, he’ll smoosh your cheek to get your attention and point in the right direction.

seems to be very obsessed with this card game called tcg. whenever he sees someone selling cards on the side street stalls, he’ll bump you in a warning and lead you towards the said shop. seelies don’t have eyes but when he faces you with a rare card in hand you swear you can see him making puppy eyes at you. and he might be a seelie, but you figured with the winning streak you have with him controlling your plays, he might be well on his way to becoming the most legendary tcg player in the whole teyvat.

#astronetwrk #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #zhongli #zhongli x reader #childe #tartaglia #ajax #childe x reader #al haitham #al haitham x reader #cyno #cyno x reader #kaveh #kaveh x reader

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yourdakg · 2 months

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Donation Found!

Remember Ryder? The SoCal pretty boy who was depressed that his life was a vapid, superficial, and party focused existence? He contacted Turnaround Technologies to ask, nay plead for a new body and a new life. See his Donation Request Form.

If only it were that simple. Turnaround Technologies utilizes some of the most advanced science on the market. When a body is fully adjusted, it's a slow and sometimes torturous process! If it was as simple as switching brains, that would be one thing. But the subjects have to physically transform into one another, and then brainwaves are overwritten. Chemistry, genetics, biology, and psychology are all involved in this elaborate process.

So Ryder had to come up with the $325,000 fee. Luckily, he had money saved and he was able to sell off the red Mustang convertible and his yellow Yamaha Sport Bike to meet the target. The final straw was giving up the deed to his WeHo apartment. Don't tell him, but his donor bought the items! Isn't that funny? He covered the rest with personal loans! Well, a little bit of debt won't hurt.

Let's remind you of where Ryder is starting his journey:

And now let's the see information plate for his donor. I think he'll be very pleased! After this, he'll never have to worry about being surrounded by vapid, beautiful people and fending off pesky pool party invites! Yes, this is the ideal swap partner for Ryder.

Meet Dr. Pervus Fondler. And wouldn't you know it? Dr. Fondler was a doctor in Ryder's hometown! They actually know each other. The good doctor cares very deeply for Ryder and was pained when he heard about his current circumstances. He decided that his job as a physician meant he had to step up and give the ultimate sacrifice! You know what they say: First Do No Harm.

Donor Statement: While I am nervous about the process, I am confident that I will give Ryder a new future, one where he won't have to worry about all that vanity and his gym obsession. True freedom for the boy!

Thank you, doctor, for going the extra mile for your patients. Turnaround Technologies will prepare the Exchange Chambers. Both subjects will be stripped down and cleansed before being placed in metallic, moisture wicking bikinis while our technicians prepare for the process:

Now that Ryder is dressed and the drugs are injected into his system, it's time to introduce him to his generous benefactor. I hope he has a positive reaction to the kind of man he will become. Let's check in!

Patient Statement: No! Holy shit! No, not Pervus the Perv! You can't put me in that. Don't force me into that body! I'd be going from a perfect ten to a zero. Please! No... LET GO. Please, oh my God. No, I thought it would be another buff guy like me. I change my mind, I changed my mi--**UMPH HRRMPH**

It's not clear why Ryder objected so strongly to his partner. Maybe it was the shock of knowing who the doctor was from earlier in his life. At any rate, he paid the fee and signed the paperwork so there is, quite literally, no going back. Swaps of this nature are once in a lifetime and, of course, quite permanent.

Subject had to be forcibly gagged and sedated.

Add another $125,000 for the service. Ryder sure is going to pay a lot of money for his new life!

When he came to in the chamber, Ryder was pounding on the door. I think he was crying. His oversize genitalia were mashed against the glass in his silver pouch. It was quite the sight. When the whirr of the machine began and the paralyzing blue light hit, his eyes went crossed. He fell backwards and pumped his hips in the air. Well, the erection is to be expected. I've heard the process somewhat erotic, though painful.

It takes a couple days and the exchange unstable during that time, but I am happy to report the following:

Donor Report: I feel good. Very good. I'm probably going to move to SoCal, sort of take over Ryder's apartment. I'll probably start using his name now too. Don't wanna confuse people. I don't even have my old, perverted urges. I hope he's comfortable with the mental traits foisted on him. Oh... he wants to take picture of me? Ha, okay. I'll flex for $100. Recipient Report: What do you mean I can't go back *whimper* why do I feel so strange. I'm already out of breath. Give it back! What do you mean a name change is included in the package *sob* MY NAME IS PERVUS NOW??!?! Oh. I have to take his medical practice in my shithole hometown? Oh God! I just... oh goodness, seeing it from this angle it's such a fine body. So tight and firm! At least flex for me, my boy? A little. So I can snap a few pics and... use them later. Eehehe. Oh God, what have I become?

#body swap #male body swap #male transformation #muscle theft #mind swap #body switch #permanent #young to old #old to young

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slut--for-love · 3 months

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How they spend Valentine's Day with you

Bo, Vincent, Lester, Rusty, Chop top, Nubbins, Drayton, bubba, brahms, and Harry

To be honest he forgot about it until either Lester or Vincent brought it up, lucky for him it was still rather early in the day so he told you that he'd be heading into the next town over to run some errands. He came back with some yellow roses, a card, and a small box of chocolates (He might even try something new in bed for you)

Vincent

Vincent was nervous as this would be your guys first Valentine's day with each other and he didn't want to mess it up and ruin everything. He gave you small wax figures of you, him, and jonesy and a few sketches he thought were worthy enough, maybe next year you'll get some poems

Lester

Like his older brother Lester was also quite nervous he had this whole night plan, he was gonna take you on a nice pretty picnic dinner date with all of your favorite foods but just as you both sat down that's when you felt the rain drops start to hit your head. Lester was so bummed that the picnic went south, you both decided to watch a movie instead

Rusty

Rusty made sure that he would have Valentine's Day off he took you out to a small but nice diner and then drove around for a bit before he drove back to the house. Where he then led you into the bedroom for you to find a bouquet of wild flowers, pink champagne, chocolates, and teddy Bear (and some condoms)

Chop top

He made sure to brush his wig, put on his best vest and grab your favorite records from his collection for tonight. You and him relaxed in his room listening to all the records you could, dance to them every now and then

Nubbins

He used his best roadkill to make you a pouch so you could match him!! He even filled it up with all his favorite photos of you sure some of them were blurry or inappropriate but it's the thought that matters. He even asks if you'd stay up and go roadkill hunting with him.

Drayton

Drayton hates this damn holiday it's just a scheme those big companies made to steal the money he worked hard to make but now that he has you? It didn't change his opinion at all he's not going to buy you anything, but he will make the god damn best chili you'll ever have in your life. Though if he's feeling nice he might go to town and buy some ingredients to make his own chocolate (keyword might)

Bubba

Bubba doesn't really know what to do for Valentine's Day he's never celebrated it before and he never thought he would but he'll try his hardest to make it a good Valentine's for you. He picked some flowers for you from the side of the road and fields, he even did his chores extra fast so he could spend the rest of day with you

Brahms

You think he's clingy now? wait until the morning of Valentine's Day he's basically attached to your hip, the only time he's away from you is when Malcolm arrives to deliver the groceries and your surprise. In one of the bags there was some of the finest wine and chocolate money could buy from this town. Brahms stayed up just a little past his bedtime to order them for you

Harry

You're going to spend Valentine's Day alone as much as he'd love to spend it with you, he does have a town to terrorize. That's not to say he won't spend the next day with you, in the morning you'll wake up to a card and heart shaped chocolate box on your kitchen table and who knows he might Even take you on a date to the mines

#harry warden x reader #rusty nail x reader #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #bubba saywer x reader #chop top x reader #nubbins sawyer x reader #drayton sawyer x reader

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pricklenettle · 6 months

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Parent's Ghost

This is my fic for @ecto-implosion! I wrote it based on the art by the talented @jackalspine

The little ectoblobs are made of the emotional residue of the creatures around them like dust bunnies. The Fenton house is full of both ectoplasm and emotional residue. So what happens after Danny is injured by his parents?

WC: 4,795

AO3 link

_______

Danny walked along the power lines. Not on the ground, that was for people who liked getting doused with rain water everytime a car came by. It was way cooler strolling along, way above the headlights cutting blindly through the splintery drizzle that made this evening’s twilight so dim. Danny adroitly floated around a buzzing insulator that snapped testilly at every rain drop. He continued his stroll, placing his feet just a finger’s breadth above the black wire.

He supposed he should be grateful for the drizzle, and the quiet evening that was proof of the apparent absence of ghosts to hunt. But really, he was bored. Bored, and his brain was starting to prickle with dread as calculus equations and handwritten paragraphs echoed sinisterly in the back of his mind. The image of the homework he’d left piled in his room loomed closer over the horizon. On top was the English paper Lancer had assigned him.

He’d written two sentences for the paper’s intro before flying out his window to patrol. So far it was disappointing him. He’d found a wisp of a ghost bear rooting around in the Nasty Burger dumpster and an old granny who wasn’t bothering anybody except the park’s population of stray cats. It was getting uncomfortably more obvious that tonight his biggest responsibility was going to be his homework.

Danny wrinkled his face. Figures, the one night he wanted a distraction, Amity decided it was time for peaceful quiet.

Even though he knew he should be heading home he just kept walking along the wire. He folded his arms behind his head and kept an eye upward, hoping the clouds would break up.

It was just on the edge of too cold. The drops that hit his shoulders and head were like needling icy fingers, prodding him to go home and take cover inside six warm walls. Leave the world to the rain to whom it belonged. He stuck his tongue out at the sky and pulled his phone out of his belt pouch.

The cracked screen pulsed unhappily at him with aberrant colors. He tilted it forward, trying to shield it from the beads of water that rolled off it with bent light. There were no new messages from Sam, but Tucker was asking about that English assignment. Danny groaned and scrubbed his fingers through his hair in frustration. He knew what he should be doing, the universe knew what he should be doing, he’d cut off his toes and feed it to the resident ghost cats before he wrote one more word tonight. He locked his ankles together, drifting a little higher over the powerline while he texted back.

“Hey, Ghost scum!” was his only warning before something exploded off to his left. The acid green light of ecto-based ammunition froze the rain in the air in a single flash. It competed and instantly won against the dim sky, lighting up the undersides of tree limbs and throwing everything into a sharp lime light.

Danny automatically threw his hands over his face, then flew up, searching the ground through the spots in his vision for the interrupters.

“Damn it, Mads, I missed him again,” came the only slightly quieter voice. Danny’s grin spread sharply when he spotted his mom and dad crouched behind some bushes.

He floated tauntingly lower. “Hey, I was walking there. How’d you like it if I threw missiles at you when you were on an evening stroll?”

“I’d say you were showing off your true nature, ghost,” Jack cried, pointing a finger at him. The shiny black rubber of his gloves reflected the yellow globe of the streetlight that hummed, lonely in the rain. The single illumination of the deserted road. “An evil, mindless blob of ectoplasmic residue that’s grown too comfortable in the mortal plane.”

Danny hovered in place, daring on whatever happened next. “At least I’d be able to hit you, in that way I am pretty good.”

Maddy was scrambling to quickly reload the gun. It looked like pretty heavy artillery. It might be strong enough to blow him to pieces if the spots still dancing in his vision were anything to believe. Of course, it would have to hit him first. Lucky for him, it looked like it was going to take Maddy a while, and Danny had plenty of time to antagonize his parents. He floated lower, leaning back in the air and crossing his legs. “Don’t you two have somewhere better to be than out in the rain following an innocent ghost around?”

“No such thing,” Maddy hissed, still fighting over the guts of the big gun.

“Menace to society you mean,” Jack shouted up.

Danny stuck his tongue out at them and raised his arms with limp wrists like the classic ghost. “Boo.”

“You won’t be saying boo when my wife reloads and splatters your ectoplasm– er,”

Maddy threw down her new rocket launcher in disgust.

“No good, Mad’s?”

Danny looked on in utter delight as Maddie began riffling through the duffle bag at their feet. “I can’t get the damn thing to work with this rain.”

“My bad, Honey. In mark two, I’ll prioritize simplification and ease of use.”

“You can’t have everything in one gun, dear, your design is wonderful just as it is. Only a little tweaking I think.” Danny gagged overtop of them before they could get really sappy. They whipped back around, on guard again. Maddy stood up from the duffle bag this time with the net gun in her hands. She braced herself to fire.

Danny sighed and shook his head. “You folks need to figure out when it’s time to pack up and save it for another day.” He accumulated a ball of ectoplasm between his fingers and lobbed it at Maddie’s feet. She dived to the side and came up on her knees. They locked eyes and she pulled the trigger. The net burst out with a puff of gunpowder.

Danny flew to the side, but a corner of the net collided with his leg. The cords snapped around his boot, quickly tangling when he tried to shake it off. He grumbled, annoyed. But still, no problem. The cord was treated to be anti ghost so he couldn’t phase out, but he had a lot of energy humming in his chest that had gone unused all day long. He smiled grimly. So, they wanted to catch a ghost? This was going to be fun. He twisted around and propelled himself up above the treeline. Maddy yelped beneath him. He glanced back to see her feet were dragging in the ground and she was barely holding onto the gun over her head. He put on another burst of speed and her toes lifted off the ground.

Jack leaped to grab it from her. He braced his feet and grunted with the strain of holding Danny earthward. She let him have it and ran back for the duffel bag. Danny wasn’t quite strong enough to lift Jack off his feet, not without phasing the big man partly out of the physical world. Danny soon found himself fighting just to stay in the air.

Jack clung onto the rope doggedly. They both seemed pretty determined today to reel him in. No matter how he flew Jack was stubbornly holding on. As though he actually believed he and the phase-proof line could reassert the laws of gravity that Danny had gotten so used to ignoring.

He was starting to feel a little too much like a toy kite for his liking. Careful to keep the line taut, he bent over his leg to tug at the tangled cords of the net. He was just starting to make progress, a pile of freed loops dropping to hang form his boot, when he heard a pop from below. An instant later a bolt screamed through his arm. He recoiled, grabbing his arm tight.

The ectoplasm of his arm had been sheered away and hollowed out like a stick of butter in a microwave. Beads of ectoplasm rolled over the creases of his white gloves.

Looked like Maddy had finally got the gun to work again.

“Hey,” he yelled down. “You missed my vital organs. For all the time you spend hunting me, I’d expect you’d at least be good at it!” He aimed down along the perfectly straight line drawn between him and his dad. As perfect as a math equation, from point a to point b. He didn’t even have to aim.

Jack dropped backward, electric green smoldering in his orange jumpsuit. Danny buoyed up into the air, cord and gun and all. He would have gotten away then, and he was already thinking about what in hell he was going to write for his damned English paper.

Maddy dropped the gun and leaped over Jack. She jumped for the cord before it could get away from her. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the gun, jerking Danny back down. She’d pulled something out of her jumpsuit. Danny saw the flash of the Fenton Ghost Taser™ an instant before she pressed it against the taut cord.

Danny cried out. His body instantly seized up, all his muscles vibrating, making his teeth chatter together. The searing pain that traced the path of the electricity came as a secondary thunder clap. He dropped out of the air.

He hit the first branches like a second shock. Thousands of tiny twigs crackled under his descent. As he traveled lower he hit branches that bent, then broke. He caught a glimpse of the ground. All scattered with brown, lance shaped leaves. Then he hit.

***

“Ow,” he groaned, pushing himself up. He batted bits of dead leaves out of his hair and suit, making sure he was all still there. He felt like his parents had hit him with the earth like a wrecking ball. He looked up, staggering a little with the tilt in perspective, up through the hole he’d smashed through the perfectly nice canopy the tree had been working on for who knew how long. Maybe he’d been the wrecking ball.

He had to sit down a moment, his entire body felt burned and achy from the taser. He fished one spikey piece of branch out of the side of his boot. He’d taken bigger hits and farther falls, but when he couldn’t catch himself the stupid part of him still expected to die everytime. He looked up again, ignoring the ringing in his head. He’d fallen into a damn thick patch of alders and bushes— honestly amazing he’d found any flat hard ground to hit at all.

The phase-proof cord— one end still tangled around his leg, wandered off into the underbrush. He could hear his parents thrashing around in the distance.

Danny quickly shook off his distraction and jammed his fingers into the knotted mess around his leg. He worked and pulled at the strands, brow furrowed into determined concentration. If he turned human he could slip out in an instant, but he didn’t want to risk one of his parents spotting it through the bushes. He kept glancing up to check how close they’d gotten before returning to the net. Of all the things, why did he not keep a knife on him? His parents had made a ghost thermos and laser lipstick. Why not a Fenton Knife™?

Their crashing was getting closer. He stubbornly kept his head down, focused on his scrambling fingers and ignoring the loud sounds of Jack and Maddy following the anti-ghost cord right to him. He just needed to figure out where it had gotten tangled. A careless movement reminded him of the hole seared into his arm. Oh, ow. He’d almost forgotten about that.

There, he’d found an edge. He freed it from a few misplaced cords, then twisted it, wrapped it back, passed it under his leg, and finally he could pull his leg free. He kicked the limp coil of net away and climbed to his feet. He could see patches of orange jumpsuit through the trees now. He gritted his teeth, pushing down the temper he could feel rearing up. They didn’t know— no. They didn’t care. He’d turned into a ghost under their noses, in their own workshop, and they’d never even noticed.

He tested his arm with a hand. He still could barely feel it but he could already tell it was going to hurt when he got home and slipped back into his human skin. He winced when his fingers came away green.

Danny stepped up into the air, flickering out of the visible spectrum.

***

The drizzle was still hesitant to turn into an actual rain when Danny floated outside his home. The neon sign buzzed faintly, briefly illuminating the drops that fell from the sky green, as though it was raining ectoplasm.

Carefully, Danny pulled open his window and slipped inside. He let go of his invisibility and dropped heavily to the floor. A blanket he’d kicked off the bed bunched uncomfortably under his back and elbow, and his boot was chewing up the pages of a book he’d left open in the middle of the room, but right now he didn’t care.

He stared up at his ceiling, at the sickly plastic of his glow-in-the-dark stars. It wasn’t dark enough yet for them to light up. The drizzle patted softly against the roof, like the Fenton building was a strange and unusual cat it didn’t quite know how to stroke. His arm ached dreadfully but he ignored it. A glancing thought reminded him of the English paper he’d sworn he’d finish tonight. He turned over, squeezing his fingers into his torn up arm. He scowled into the dark shadows that clung to the floor of his room. He’d do it tomorrow.

***

He came out of a dull fog with something nudging his leg. He hissed and kicked at it, then groaned. He was so sore from the electricity that had pulsed through ever fiber of muscle he owned. He cracked an eye open. It was dark. Rain shadows mottled the dim light from the neon sign outside that the window cast onto the floor beside him. The constant buzz of rain on the roof made him realize he was still cold and damp. He curled tighter into himself, closing his eyes to try and go back to sleep. Well, it had decided to rain after all.

Another nudge against his leg made him open his eyes in annoyance. It was a tiny blob ghost, apparently small enough to get past his parents' sensors and definitely too small to cause real trouble. It sat in a ball by his foot, gazing him down with softly glowing red eyes.

“Shoo,” he said crossly. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Instead of going away, it drifted up closer to his face. It was certainly brazen in the face of a much stronger ghost. Danny drew himself up into a half crouch, unwilling to let even this mindless blob catch him down and out. “You should get going, you don’t want my parents to see you hanging around.”

Instead of listening to him, the blob rolled up to his hand. The surface of its ectoplasm rippled and then it plopped up a wet wad of bandages.

“Eeew, that’s gross.” But it did make Danny think to look at his injured arm. He grimaced. That gun was seriously concentrated. His arm was still hollowed out and dripping with green slime. He’d been slowly leaking as he slept and it had left a dark, wet spot on his twisted blanket that gleamed dully in the low light. “Shoot.”

The small blob made a tiny murmuring chirp. He looked back down at it and it nudged his hand. He’d never met a blob ghost so friendly. The ones he occasionally spotted in the house seemed peaceable enough, but he never let them get close. They were like fruit flies, they just appeared where their sustenance was. Normally they coalesced after fights, drawn to the spilled ectoplasm like ramora to sharks. Or maybe they were created by it. Who knows. They were skittish, unfriendly, and prone to hurting pets. He didn’t really know how to react to this one trying to cuddle up to him.

When its insistent bumps got no reaction, the blob instead snagged his sleeve. It bobbed up in the air, tugging him to stand up.

Suddenly there was another blob. It floated out from under his bed and tugged on his pant leg, seemingly for the same purpose.

Bemused, Danny stood. The room tilted. For a moment he couldn’t move except to sway on his legs. He almost jumped out of his skin when a third blob ghost appeared over his shoulder. It settled as solidly as a blob could on its perch and hummed and chirped in his ear. Its firm press reminded him of when his dad would clap him on the shoulder, his big warm hand a steadying weight.

The blob ghosts were still tugging on his clothes. So, Danny obeyed. He tottered tiredly toward his bed. He made the bed every day, but the blob ghosts must have been rifling through his room before they woke him up because all the blankets were half off.

Irritated, he fell into bed. He sighed as his pillow recieved his head with a puff. His ssense of gravity became even looser as the pillow cradled his skull. He might have been floating as unmoored as he felt. How he’d missed it. Did it seem poofier today or was he just really happy to be in bed?

He shivered at the cold sheets and shifted to curl into a ball, but the blob ghost was still holding onto his sleeve. He lifted his head to show a threatening row of teeth, but he didn’t have the energy for much else. He flared the energy of his core. It had never failed to to send blobs darting away like frightened mice. These ones didn’t.

The big one that had sat on his shoulder floated through the air, a long trail of white bandage fluttering beneath it like a tail. Danny was starting to be amused. At least this bandage wasn’t already sopping with ectoplasm.

The big blob hovered over the bed, edging the bandage closer to his wound. He didn’t know how to tell these things that you were supposed to disinfect stuff first. Whatever, at least it would stop him from soaking the mattress. He could deal with things properly tomorrow. In the morning when he felt less like a dead boy barely filling in his human skin. Yeah, whenever that happened.

***

He’d figured out how to scare them off the night he’d been following the trail of a giant, mutant ghost snake. He’d been chasing it for most of the night and the snake had left it’s mark on him and a large chunk of Amity Park. He’d been pretty sure it was dead but he didn’t want that one coming back to life to bite him in the ass. Again.

He’d found it in an old alleyway, its coils half hidden by mounds of trash. The huge snake had stopped moving. It was losing clarity fast and its scales were melting into the broken asphalt. The ambient ectoplasm its blood had added to the air made a glowing haze over the alley. It was also swarming with blobs. Like busy ants they flocked from one wound to the next, soaking it in like sugar water.

Danny had taken a step back, just like anyone who turned over a log and found it crawling with maggots. Danny blinked at them, squinting with one eye crusted half shut from the fight and the other rubbery with exhaustion. The way the blobs swarmed over the ghost’s corpse before it had even bled away out of their physical world made shivers prickle all over his shoulders. Slowly he backed away. He’d confirmed the snake wouldn’t be a threat anymore, his job was done.

He’d intended to leave the scene and creep away to finally go home, when his leg gave out and he slipped on the pavement. all the milling pairs of red eyes snapped to him. They hissed like a multi-tongued hoard of snakes. Automatically, Danny flared his core. He’d gritted his teeth, staring them down, thinking very hard about how much bigger and fiercer he was, how easy to squish them and fight them off his prey. The hand in front of him gained an unnatural edge, like a glowing afterimage. All the ghosts immediately fled, abandoning their immense feast.

After that he’d never had much trouble with the smaller ghosts. It didn’t make sense that these ones weren’t bothered about it.

Danny took the bandage from the bigger blob and pinched it to his arm, intending to wind it around with his teeth. Instead, the three blob ghosts seized it from him, letting him hold it in place while they passed it back and forth around his arm. Danny didn’t have to do anything before he was looking at a tidily wrapped bandage. He wasn’t even seeping through them yet.

“Thank you.” Uneasily he settled back onto his pillow, warily watching the blobs flit around like alien lights through half closed eyes.

The blob ghosts drifted like flotsam, their cool glow sliding over his freezing sheets to the glistening wood of his bedpost, then back again to bead on the dark wetness he’d spread on the floor and under his dry eyelids. His sight blurred and he realized again how tired he was, but now he’d been roused twice. He couldn’t relax with the huge, cold night huddling in the space of his bedroom. Especially not with the strange ghosts, mindless and helpful though they seemed to be.

The blobs didn’t seem to realize. They briefly floated down out of sight then reappeared holding up a blanket between them. As gently and softly as could be, they drew it over him. Two of them churred soothingly and patted the blanket around him as though they were trying to tuck him in. Danny wanted to laugh but instead he found himself sinking into his pillow, eyes blinking shut. After all, why shoo them off, he could defend himself from a couple of blobs. He yawned broadly. The third blob ghost drifted down to alight on his forehead, unexpectedly similar to the softness of a cool hand against a fever. Danny sighed and let it stay there. He already felt warmth spreading over him from the blankets, he was afraid to move or it would go away.

The other blob ghosts settled onto his blanket around his legs. Their light dimmed as though they were going to sleep. He finally relaxed enough for the transformation to slip over his head and down his legs. He shivered furiously for a moment, like the first steps out of a cold pool where he’d acclimated to a chill sort-of-comfort and then into biting wind. Before long real warmth stole over him.

The blob resting on his forehead began to hum. Even through his sleep drenched brain he recognised it. It was a silly song that his parents had liked and turned into a lullaby, just like every parent does. Whenever this one came onto the radio Danny was jolted back to when he was a kid and soothed into a warm bed on a close and sleepy evening. When he was a kid he’d practically vibrated with too much energy. When he couldn’t sleep Maddie would hold him wrapped in a blanket in her lap, singing that song and rocking back and forth, sometimes flubbing and making up her own words.

They needed the lullaby a lot when he was a kid. Some nights it was the only way to keep him in bed. It was a song for a too long road trip when he’d sent the entire car into seismic shifts from his carseat while the windshield wipers worked madly and Jazz was yelling at him for kicking her seat. The song was for a hospital visit where the cold room and unfamiliar walls was more disturbing than the pain in his broken arm. In the past it had never failed to lull him to sleep.

Somehow he hadn’t heard it in a long time. He didn’t miss it, it was just one of those things you naturally left behind as time passed. He wasn’t a baby anymore and Maddie didn’t need to sing it to get him to shut up for five seconds. He didn’t even remember the funny words she’d made up for it. His eyes drifted closed as he tried to mumble them and somehow dredge them up from deep in his mind. He’d almost completely forgotten it. He wondered where this blob had picked it up.

All the wondering he could do ran away from him quickly. His consciousness spun out like a ball of yarn leading him to sleep. The tune dropped him back into those years of falling asleep with his mom’s cheek next to his and finally his brain stopped thinking and let him drift off into deep dreamless sleep.

***

Jack and Maddie came home in the stillness of the hour between night and morning. It had stopped raining but they were drenched and stuck all over with orange pineneedles and other forest detritus. They were tired and trudged heavily through the door, not wanting to wake anyone up. There were twigs and leaves in Jack’s hair and a spray of thorns caught in the weave of Maddie’s suit. She smiled working it free but there was no real mirth behind it. Just tiredness.

They’d found no ghost in their net. But they’d been so sure a ghost couldn’t escape it, and a hit from Maddie’s new gun, on top of a shock from the Fenton Taser™ without being seriously damaged and power drained. So they’d combed the area again. They’d found not a sign of the ghost. They supposed that they’d never know until the next dogfight if that one had survived or had dissolved into whatever aether the scraps of human consciousness were bound for.

They dumped their tangled and scraped up gear in a pile. Neither of them said anything. Without a word they left it there and took the stairs. Jack looked at the back of his wife’s neck. He might not be good at reading people but he’d known her long enough. All these ghosts were fascinating, they’d never had more work. But the rest of Amity didn’t exactly agree with their glee. Some nights the sheer amount of ghostly activity was overwhelming. And they were strong enough to be actually capable of real property damage! Who knew what else. The sooner they could stuff these spooks back where they came from the better. But this wasn’t what was bothering Maddy. Jack knew the problem that was puzzling her now was Danny. It was frustrating. Life would be so much easier if people could just say what they were thinking.

If only he could figure out the problem.

Again, without words, they stopped in front of Danny’s door. Dread was boiling in Maddie’s stomach, there’d been so many nights she’d known he’d snuck out. Some nights he just never came home. Jack’s large arm reached past her to press against the door. He eased it open with both hands, For once he payed special attention to not bump anything thoughtlessly. Danny’s room was dark, the only light inside came from the warm stripes that escaped from the hallway lamp around their legs and the dim stick on stars that littered the ceiling. It was messy, as usual. Leaves of homework were layered over his desk and books lay open all over the floor. Drifts of clothes made sedimentary layers in the corners of the room. Jack couldn’t help his well of fondness at the sight. Danny was a still form on the bed. Silent asleep, as he should be.

Jack sniffed, was the ectoplasm smell stronger here? He glanced around briefly; bed, desk, floor— then shrugged. It was everywhere in the house. It was their fault really, always mixing work and family life.

Jack looked down and realized neither of them had pushed one toe over the carpet line into his room. It was just as good as a wall.

Maddie’s mouth worked as though she was chewing over a mouthful of words that needed to be said, no matter how silently. She finally whispered. “Good night, Danny.”

And then they left as carefully as they had come.

#danny phantom #dp #dp fic #danny fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #ectoimplosion2023 #my writing #hurt/comfort #minor injury #minor electricution #fluff #blob ghosts

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 years

Text

Coming Home (Part Fourteen)

Azriel x Reader.

Ahhhh, brace yourselves. This is a big one, folks. A storm is a’brewin’.

Happy Halloween!

Warnings: SMUTSMUTSMUT 🌶️🥵

⧪

You woke the next morning with a blanket draped over your body – and a leaden weight on your shoulders, in your heart.

You felt…numb. And not numb at all. Achingly empty and yet so full, you couldn’t possibly cram any more inside your head. Restless, like you wanted to run and run and not stop; where, you weren’t sure.

After the argument with Elain the day before, Az had spent the day plying you with tea and mindless, easy conversation. You knew precisely what he’d been doing – keeping a close eye on you, sensing that you were teetering on the edge of something catastrophic. But not once did he raise any of the pressing subjects that were dragging on you.

Not once did he acknowledge the total shit show that was your life, and your relationships with everyone in it.

How could you face Starfall that night, when everything had piled on top of you so suddenly? When you felt a few steps away from a total fucking break? You wandered up to your bedroom, staring around the cold, empty area that, it seemed, no personal effects could fill or warm. It lacked life, lacked spirit.

You…you lacked life, you realised. Lacked spirit.

Returning to Velaris hadn’t been what you’d thought or hoped it would be. The initial reunions had been euphoric, of course, but it had taken a while for you to realise something that now seemed blindingly obvious.

You couldn’t be happy here – not right now. Couldn’t be happy anywhere, in fact, because you just weren’t happy, fullstop.

And it wasn’t just the situation that existed between you and Azriel. It was bigger than that, more than that. This thing went back years, had started long before you were old enough to harbour romantic feelings. It was a sickness, of sorts…a plague. A hatred. For yourself.

You stared in the mirror, not recognising one bit of the person that stared back at you. Had you ever been happy, even in those small moments of light? When your big brother had simply doted on his little sister, and it had nothing to do with him being a High Lord or ruling a court?

Had you ever had a chance to be happy?

Your father had hated you from your first breath to his last one. He’d told you what you’d become – a disappointment, a burden – and somehow, in your attempts to avoid those very things, you had, indeed, become them.

And travelling, seeing the world, had been nothing more than a ruse to get away. Because you’d thought, perhaps, that being away from the people who saw you for what you truly were, reinventing yourself every time you went someplace new, would somehow fill that chasm that lived inside of you.

Bandages. You’d just slapped bandage over bandage over bandage, and now they were all fraying, exposing your wounds, and you were losing the fight against them.

You never should have come home. Should never have turned up on your brother’s doorstep, shattered pieces of your soul in tow, and hoped that no one would notice how broken you truly were.

Home. Where even was that for you? You weren’t sure you had one. A place where you felt at peace, and whole…content and wanted and loved–

A thought struck you like a ton of bricks.

Frowning, you strode over to your dresser, pulling the drawers open and rifling through one by one. It had to be in this room somewhere – you knew you’d carried it everywhere with you and brought it back to Velaris with you; a tiny little keepsake you never wanted to lose.

Buried in the bottom of your armoire, tucked into a coin pouch, you found it.

The edges were torn, the colouring yellowed – the note was sixty years old, now, but you treasured it as much as the day its author had handed it to you.

A young, new High Lord who had been just twenty years of age and thrust into a daunting role, with views and opinions so aligned with your own, with a zest for goodness and peace. Your time spent in his company was, perhaps, the only time you’d felt true happiness. The only time you hadn’t thought something was missing from your heart.

You unfolded the note, smiling down at the neat handwriting. It gave you the comfort you absolutely needed in that moment.

I wish you weren’t leaving us, but should you ever travel this way again, or you simply want to come and play with us, you’re always welcome in the Summer Court. I’m deeply indebted to you for your counsel and friendship these past months. Don’t forget about me, Lady of the Night. Warm regards, always – Tarquin.

Tarquin. What a light he had been, in those few months you’d spent in Adriata, soaking in the sun and tasting the wine and helping a young male who was absolutely terrified of the responsibility that had been placed on his shoulders. You’d never returned to the Summer Court after you’d left – though you’d always sworn you wanted to – and only ten years later, they’d been trapped Under the Mountain.

Maybe you should have returned to Adriata, rather than Velaris. Maybe there, you would have sorted yourself out instead of spiralling.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to do so.

You weren’t sure. But with that little, folded note in view, you felt the slightest easing of the weight on your shoulders.

You gathered yourself together, did what you were supposed to do and began to get ready for Starfall.

But as you did, your thoughts were far, far away, on crystal blue waters and sandstone palaces.

⧪

“You wished to see me?”

The House of Wind had been rapidly filling up since the sun had begun to set over the city. Azriel and Cassian had flown back and forth, transporting the guests from the ground, up into the house where the celebrations were already underway, drinks and conversation flowing. Az had made true on his word to fly Killian up there, and the poor male was currently being pelted with questions from both Mor and Feyre.

And Rhys — Rhys had summoned you to this pokey little office to have a private chat.

He looked up at you, taking in the dress Az had bought you, your hair and makeup that you’d somehow found the will to perfect. His mouth kicked up into a soft smile. “You look beautiful.”

“As do you.” And he did — a true vision of the Night Court high lord. You stayed standing. “Why did you summon me here?”

“I know we agreed not to discuss anything too pressing until after Starfall, but…” He pursed his lips. “I wanted to check on you, see how you were doing after yesterday. After…”

You folded your arms. “After Elain suddenly decided she had a backbone? I’m fine. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve coaxed a cat’s claws out. If she keeps it up, she may actually start to look like she fits into this court.”

Rhys’s eyes closed. You watched as he pressed two fingers to each temple, gently massaging the area. A long, deep sigh was dragged from his lips. Like he was trying — and failing — to stifle his temper.

“What is it, Rhys?” You pressed.

Those violet eyes flickered as he glanced up at you. “Elain shouldn’t have behaved how she did yesterday — and I’ve made that clear to her. But you…I need you to have some compassion.”

“Compassion? Compassion for what?”

“Elain has suffered some terrible things—“

Your barked, incredulous laugh swallowed up his words. You shook your head. “I cannot believe we’re having this conversation right now.”

So he hadn’t summoned you here to check on your well-being —- but rather, to ask you to be kinder to Elain. If you weren’t already feeling so empty, so checked out, you may have actually screamed.

“Elain isn’t like you, Y/N.” Rhys said. “She doesn’t have your resilience. She isn’t brave, or confident, or—“

“If you truly believe that I am those things,” Your eyes met his, “then you do not know me at all, brother.”

For just a moment, he stared back at you. His brow furrowed, and his mouth became taut — like he was trying to puzzle you out, trying to find some semblance of the person he’d once known. But he wouldn’t find it; he seemed to realise that as he sat up in his chair.

“What is going on with you?” He demanded. “Since you came back to Velaris, it’s like—like you’ve been on a downward spiral. You’re acting out, pushing everyone away. And you’ve always been stubborn, and outspoken, perhaps a bit brash at times…but unkind? You’ve never been unkind. And yesterday—“

“Yesterday was not supposed to go the way that it did.” You pressed your lips together. “I simply wanted to talk to Elain, and I regret what I said to her when things got heated. But the way she’s acted, Rhys, the whole time I’ve been here…I can’t just sit back and ignore it.”

“She’s been through a lot—“

“And what about what I’ve been through?!” You snapped so suddenly, you shocked even yourself. You slammed your hands down on the desk, begging your eyes not to well up with tears. “What about what I’ve suffered?”

Rhys blinked at you. “I don’t know a thing about what you’ve been through because you haven’t told me.”

“You haven’t asked!” You needed to move, needed to get out of there before you truly lost it, but you couldn’t force your feet into action. “Nearly an entire fucking century I was away, and you haven’t even asked what I’ve been through. Whether I’m okay.”

“Y/N—“

“I’m not, Rhys. I’m not okay at all.” You hated, hated so much, that your voice cracked. “I’m broken. So fucking broken, I’m not even sure I can piece myself back together. I’m lonely. Bruised. And I’m so fucking tired!”

“You—“

“I saw death — out there, in the world. So much death, so much violence, it will never leave me. I may not have been trapped under that mountain with you, but I was still trapped. Trapped inside my head, moving from place to place and trying to find somewhere that I might actually feel whole. Somewhere I could become someone you would be proud of. And I tried to be that person…tried to learn things and help people and make things better, but I can’t do that because I’m the problem! So while you all assumed I was just galavanting around the world and having a merry fucking time, I was drowning. Suffocating.”

Rhys’s eyes were pleading, now, the colour so stark, you could be forgiven for thinking he was crying. “I don’t — I’ve never known how to help you, Y/N. I’ve always sensed something was wrong. I know that you went through a lot. Our father damaged you…and Tamlin’s father…and then Azriel…”

Just like that — just like that, you went so very, very still. A chill skittered through you like claws caressing your insides.

The words were the slap that Elain had failed to land.

“What,” you said bluntly, “does Azriel have to do with this?”

Rhys sat back in his chair. Squared his shoulders. The pitying gaze in his eyes made you feel sick to your stomach. And you…you felt smaller than ever.

You felt just as you had when you were a child. When Rhys would kneel down before you, to speak to you at eye-level. When he would soften his features and speak so gently, because you were his little sister — somewhat more like a daughter to the young male barely out of his adolescence — and he would do anything, anything to protect you.

Where had that relationship gone? That ferocious love? Had you, the hate and anger that ate you up from the inside, destroyed it?

“…it’s why you left, right?” He said quietly. “Because you were in love with Az — and he was in love with Mor. Anyone with half a brain cell could see it.”

Your eyes shuttered. No. You couldn’t talk about this. Not with him. Azriel had pushed you away for Rhys. To preserve his feelings — to keep to his loyalty for his friend, his brother, his High Lord.

And Rhys had known the whole fucking time? Had sat back and kept his mouth shut, like watching some shitty love triangle from a shitty romance novel play out? Like the whole thing was petty and meaningless, something you would have just gotten over with age?

And then he’d let you go out into the world, let you try to run from your feelings, straight into ones that were so much worse. So much lonelier. He’d let you build up such a guard, such a hatred.

And yet he was here, wanting you to be kinder to Elain.

You couldn’t stay here. In Velaris. There was no possible way you could stay here.

“I…” You spoke with dangerous calm. “I am not having this conversation with you, Rhysand. This ends here.”

“Y/N—“

But you were already turning your back on him, wrenching the door open. “Enjoy your night, brother.”

⧪

Churned up though you were, you decided to stay — for Starfall.

In some useless hope that the stars would zip by and carry your problems away. Maybe even carry you away.

Somehow, you floated around, drinking and dancing and socialising as if absolutely nothing were wrong. As if you weren’t a high fever about to break. A volcano seconds from erupting.

You’d given Killian sweet smiles that didn’t reach your eyes and pretty laughs that tasted sour in your mouth. You pretended to enjoy yourself — and when Killian plucked up the courage to talk to Rhys and Cassian, his eyes alight with utter awe at them — you felt relieved for the break. For the opportunity to drop your smile for a few moments.

But it was too noisy. Too much. Everyone had gathered on the main balcony once the sky’s displays had started, and you felt crowded, suffocated. Too hot and too boxed in.

With their faces tilted up at the sky, nobody thankfully noticed as you slipped away and went in search of some solitude. You quietly wandered inside, taking the staircase up to the roof that was unoccupied and just the right amount of quiet, even with the bustle of voices and music still audible from below.

You felt closer to the passing stars up here. Close enough to reach out just past the railing and touch. They seemed to dance around you, in front of you, cartwheeling their way through the endless expanse of night sky, and you couldn’t…couldn’t help wondering if perhaps one of those passing souls was your mother. Floating around you. Watching over you.

Couldn’t help wondering what she would think of you now.

Only when the door opened behind you did you realise you were crying. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, attempting to shield your face, to dab at the tears without completely destroying the artwork of makeup you’d painted onto yourself. Perhaps Killian had peeled away from your brother’s side and come looking for you. Perfect, you thought — you wanted distraction, to feel something or nothing, to feel reckless and dangerous and light on your feet—

“What happened.”

The question was dark, blunt — almost a snarl. Not Killian at all. Azriel shut the door to the roof behind him, and he was by your side in a couple of great strides, prising your hand from your face.

“What happened?” He repeated. “Has Kameron upset you?”

You couldn’t help but snort — albeit weakly, pathetically — dabbing your eyes. “His name is Killian.”

“…I really do not give a shit.”

No, you didn’t doubt that at all. Anyone glimpsing the Shadowsinger tonight may have merely seen his usual guardedness, but you knew him better than that. He didn’t like Killian, and he wasn’t pretending to. He’d barely breathed a word while Rhys and Cassian had plied the sweet male with questions.

“He didn’t upset me.” You said, leaning against the railing. “I’m just…reflecting, I suppose.”

“Reflecting.”

You could feel Azriel’s intense stare on you. He mirrored your position, bracing both arms on the railing and letting it support his weight. And gods, every bit of it — it was so much like that last Starfall. So much like that night that changed everything. The two of you alone together, the night sky a burst of brilliant shapes and sounds and colours. Your bodies brushing side-by-side. A host of unspoken words weighing on your tongue.

And you were…you were older. Obviously. And different. You just really weren’t sure, anymore, that the difference was a good one.

Az hadn’t torn his eyes from your face once; even with the exquisite sights that were happening right there, close enough to touch.

He angled his body towards you, the warmth of him brushing your bare arm. “What is going on in that head of yours?”

Good question. You wanted to laugh, to ask him if he had a spare millennia to puzzle out your complicated thoughts with you. But you merely focused on a passing star, your brow pinching.

“…Do you think she’d be proud of me?” You asked, your voice far smaller than you’d intended. “My mother, I mean.”

Azriel seemed surprised by the question — such a rare thing to catch him off guard. He blinked, frowned, and then touched your arm with a feather-like gentleness.

“Of course she would.” His voice was soft, quiet. “Why would you even ask that?”

Slowly, you shook your head. “…I don’t think I would be, if I were her. Proud. I don’t think she’d— “

Your words were cut off as Az’s rough hand suddenly gripped your chin. He turned your face to his, his jaw ticking as he stared down at you with that molten intensity in his gaze.

“I think she’d have more pride than she’d know what to do with.” He said. “I think she’d see how brilliant, how compassionate, how strong you are, and she’d know that no matter what, she wouldn’t have to worry. That somehow, no matter how bad things may seem, you would always be alright.”

Your eyes shuttered. You couldn’t stare at him — not like this. Not this close, with such words leaving his lips. It was easy to remember why you’d bridged that gap all those years ago and acted on your feelings. How simple, how second-nature it had been, to lean forward and kiss him.

You couldn’t make that mistake again. Not…not after everything. Not with everything else to contend with.

So you simply whispered “thank you”, and gently pulled your face from his grasp, angling yourself forward again.

He didn’t leave, like you half expected him to. He sidled closer to you, his arm pressing against yours, and you welcomed the warmth, the comfort, that he — and his wings — provided.

“You don’t have to keep me company up here, you know.” You smiled softly — I’ll be leaving soon enough anyway, was what you didn’t add. “You should go back and join the fun.”

“I think I’d rather be up here.” His eyes tracked a passing star, its light bringing out the flecks of green and brown that made up the hazel. “Besides — I think your lover is still drooling over Rhys.”

You rolled your eyes. But you were thankful for the lighter turn in conversation, the jesting in his tone. It felt good — normal. “He’s not my lover.”

“No?” He angled towards you again. “You fucked him. Isn’t that what a lover is?”

“I’m not sure it really counts if you didn’t get to cum.”

Az stared at you — and then threw his head back, and laughed. A great bellow of a laugh that was so at odds with his usual quiet, you couldn’t help grinning at the sound, the sight of his eyes crinkling at the edges.

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?” He smiled — a gods-damn breathtaking smile.

You shrugged. “Nope. Such an affront leaves one very frustrated.”

“Hmm, I’m sure.”

He pushed away from the railing, his feet falling into slow, relaxed steps around you. You wondered, for a moment, what exactly he was doing — whether he was returning to the party after all.

But then you felt the warmth of him at your back. The solid press of his body flush to yours, as he seemed to enclose you against that railing, the span of his wings cocooning you both from the rest of the world.

“Perhaps I need to make up for it, then.” He said. His voice was a deep, delicious rasp.

Your entire body had gone taut. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think — weren’t even sure you were breathing as your hands tightened on the railing. Every bit of Az was overpowering you in the most addictive way, his potent, spicy scent filling your nose, the warmth and hardness of his body holding yours upright, the fanning of his breath against the nape of your neck. He was tall enough to rest his chin atop your head, but he instead dipped it, angling it down.

His lips brushed your bare shoulder in a barely-there caress, and you sucked in a sharp breath. Tried to remember why this was a bad idea.

“This fucking dress.” He murmured, repeating the action with a slightly firmer press. As he did so, he snaked an arm around you, his hand brushing your navel.

Your eyes fluttered shut. “I…” You cleared your throat. “I thought you liked this dress.”

“I do. Perhaps too much.”

His lips ghosted along your shoulder again, moving further, further, up the column of your neck, where he seemed to settle. He pressed a gentle kiss behind your ear, and you released a shaky breath.

“…Az…” You whispered, letting your head fall back. “…what are you doing? What about…what about everything you said?”

With that one hand still rubbing light circles into your navel, he raised the other to your shoulder, toying with the strap of your dress.

“Maybe,” He murmured, “everything I said was what I thought I should say. Not what I wanted to say.” That hand on your stomach dipped slightly lower. “And maybe I’m tired of doing what I should over what I want.”

“…is that why you’ve been so different these past couple of weeks? The notes…the flirting…”

His hand inched lower, lower still. Now dancing just over where your waistband lay. “Maybe our conversation in Windhaven made me realise things. Made me realise that I want to be more than just the Spymaster. Want to feel more than just my duty. Maybe seeing Lucien defend you yesterday made me understand how I’d failed you.” Another light brushing of his lips. “I want…I want to feel alive, Y/N. And nobody makes me feel that quite like you do.”

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think— “Oh.” Was all you managed to whisper.

“Oh, indeed.” He hummed. Pressed another kiss behind your ear. “Do you want me to stop, Y/N?”

Panic bleated somewhere far away inside you…because how could this be happening now, when you’d reached your breaking point? When it felt too late?

But if he stopped, you may just grab him by his wings and launch him off the roof. You…you could have this, couldn’t you? Mindless pleasure for the sake of it? A distraction from the fact that you were sinking?

Yes, you decided. You could.

You placed a hand against his, pressing it against you, as if to prove your point. You could have sworn he laughed.

“No.” You ground out. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

Before you could register his movements, he was spinning you in his arms. Your back was pressed against the railings, and he gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“I cannot tell whether I want to stare at you in this dress or rip it off you.”

And then he was kissing you.

Hard, hungry, passionate. The railing was bitingly cold against the skin of your back, and yet every part of you was warm. You opened your mouth on a gasp, and he slipped his tongue inside, the taste of him — of the fruity drink he’d been nursing — drawing a moan from your throat.

His other hand — the one that wasn’t gripping your face — moved down and down until his fingers were skirting the hem of your dress and the skin of your thigh, the brush of his calluses a delicious scrape that you wanted to feel on every part of your body. He kissed you harder, exploring every inch of your mouth he could get to, and slowly began to lift the hem of your dress up.

You reached up, fisting the front of his shirt in your hand and attempting to yank him closer to you, harder against you, but you were stopped. He tore his lips from yours.

This, a horrible voice in your mind told you, is where he realises he fucked up and walks away. Again.

You stared up at him, your lips still tingling. A lick of worry rose in you—

But he smirked, his eyes studying your flushed cheeks, your swollen lips. His gaze seemed deeper, darker, somehow. You wanted to kiss him again, to taste him — but he stopped you as you leaned in.

“No.” He rasped. “I want to look at you while I give you that orgasm you didn’t get from Kristian.”

You gasped as his fingers brushed the lace of your underwear. “His name is Killian.”

“I know.”

Any suitable response quickly eddied from your mind as Az’s hand slipped past the waistband of your pretty, flimsy underwear. If he hadn’t already scented your strong arousal, he found it waiting for him as his fingers reached the gathering wetness at your centre.

“Fuck.” He growled. “You’re soaked.”

“Yes.” You breathed, pushing against his hand. “Because of you.”

The way he looked at you could have suggested that you’d given him the secret to eternal happiness. He bit his lip, his eyes locking with yours. And then dragged a finger right through your folds.

“Oh gods,” Your head fell back as his thumb pressed against that sweet spot at the apex of your thighs. He began to make slow, torturous circles, his other hand forcing your face back to his.

“Look at me.” He grunted, pressing down on the sensitive nub. “Don’t stop looking at me.”

He was…gods, he was perfect. You’d always known he was skilled, an expert with his hands — you’d seen him use them enough in training and in work. And you’d be totally fucking lying if you said you hadn’t imagined what else those brilliant hands could do, in the dead of night, when it was just you in your bed, your hand between your legs.

But this — the real thing? It put those heated fantasies to shame in an instant.

His eyes were locked with yours, tracking every one of your micro-expressions, the way your brow furrowed, how you kept alternating between pressing your lips together and allowing them to fall open, allowing a whole host of noises to fall from them. Not once did Az look away from you.

With his thumb still rubbing circles against your clit, he brushed a long finger through your wetness, dragging it slowly down towards your entrance. You bucked your hips towards him, practically begging him to slide that finger into you, and he released a deep, guttural laugh.

And then did exactly that.

“Fuck.” You gasped, your hips bucking again. “Oh, gods, Az.”

“Like that?” He’d stilled his hand — just to make sure you were comfortable. He couldn’t seem to resist leaning forward and kissing you once, quick, before he pulled back to stare at you again. “Feel good?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes, can you—“

His finger began moving inside you before you could complete your request. What started as a slow thrust quickly picked up, the pace of his thumb also increasing against your clit, and your head fell back once more as he slipped a second finger inside you. His free hand gripped the back of your neck, forcing your gaze back to his, and pure, feral need flashed in his eyes as he studied you.

It seemed to do something to him — watching you, maintaining eye contact, as his fingers thrust inside you, your release tightly coiling in your stomach. The whole world had melted away, and it was just the two of you, not even the passing stars able to compare to what you were feeling right then.

“Look at you,” Azriel ground out. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Gods,” You moaned, your hand clamping down on his wrist — simultaneously trying to slow and encourage his movements. It was too much, too incredible, and you could feel it unfurling rapidly. “Gods, I’m gonna—“

That was all you managed to get out before release barrelled through you, the words dying in your throat and becoming nothing more than staggering, breathless moans.

You’d never felt anything like it — never had a fucking orgasm like it. Like…like you were lightheaded and gasping for air, the world spinning around you. You swore you could see swirls and colours and shapes, as if the travelling stars had stopped right above you and Az and exploded, showering you in their shimmering dust and light.

Only then did you realise Az had gone completely still, his hand still in your underwear — and he, too, was staring up, up at the sky above you, and—

The stars were exploding directly above you. Raining down on you. Iridescent, glowing dust was falling onto your skin and in your hair. Never had you seen them do that before.

You didn’t know what was happening. Couldn’t think. All you were aware of was something rocking you to your very core, like the world was cleaving in two and making room for…for something else. Something more. You weren’t sure if the roof was truly trembling around you, or if that was just you, your body, your release—

Az tore his gaze from the sky and looked at you.

And there, in your soul, in your heart, in your thoughts, you felt it — a resounding snap. Like something clicking into place. Something taking residence in your entire being that felt old and new at the same time. And complete. So utterly complete.

The way Az was staring at you, his eyes wide and alarmed, his lips slightly parted — you knew he’d felt it, too. Felt that groundbreaking snap that was now burning and growing inside of you.

He pulled his fingers out of you. Eased his hand from your underwear. His mouth opened and closed around silent words as he took a simple step back, pure shock taking over his face. Like the shock he’d worn on the night of your return, but…more, somehow. Stronger.

“Fuck.” He choked out, and you swallowed.

You both knew exactly what this meant — could almost hear his shadows whispering around you: mates, mates, mates.

Az looked like he didn’t know whether to scream or laugh or cry or fly right out of there. His body had gone preternaturally still.

“Fuck.” Was all he said again.

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

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sameschmidtdiffname · 11 days

Text

A Comfort or Two

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: Vices never killed anybody.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns for Reader, pre-established relationship, hurt/no comfort, Reader has ✨️issues✨️, this isn't a vent fic what are you talking about???, use of cigarettes, brief mentions of sleep medication, arguement, and this is barely proofread. (Read: Isn't.)

Notes: I have had writers block for three months. I shit this out in ten minutes. What the fuck?

Anyways, phone blapple teet.

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

"Since when do you smoke?"

The voice rings clear in the dead of night, the only sound surrounding us being the crickets chirping and mosquitos buzzing past my ears.

"I don't," I answer, taking another drag off the cigarette between my cold fingers.

Mike doesn't speak as he steps onto the patio, softly shutting the glass door behind him with a sort of 'thump' sound that it always makes when the door seals shut.

For a moment we don't say anything. Then I exhale, and the noise that makes must be his silent blessing to speak.

"American Spirits," he notes, too awkward to say what he really thinks.

"Turquoise," I say. I take another drag, then speak as I hold my breath. "You know how many people that work at gas stations don't know what the fuck turquoise looks like when you ask for a pack of this shit?"

He sucks his teeth. I wonder for a moment if he knows what the color looks like.

"Most people are pretty good on red, blue, yellow," he says.

Yeah, he doesn't know.

"Pretty warm out here for a sweater," he notes.

"I don't like bugs," I say, exhaling. "They pick at my skin, eat me alive. Sue me."

His foot scuffs the concrete, a nervous habit.

"Can I bum one?"

This makes me turn my head to look at him, almost glaring as I try to gage how serious his request is, looking him up and down in his undergarments before speaking.

"Seriously?" I ask.

"If we're having a cheat day, yeah. Count me in," he says, walking to sit beside me, crossing his legs and resting back on his palms, then readjusting as he decides he doesn't like the feeling of the gravel on his skin, brushing the pepples off on his shorts.

I shrug and scoff, but pick up my pack and open the flap, shuffling out a little bit of tobacco and then finding a paper, getting to work on rolling a cigarette for the man who watches me curiously.

"Why not buy pre-roll?" He asks.

"You gonna give me the extra money to buy pre-rolled?" I ask, my tone too dull to be sharp, but too pointed to be sarcastic. He relents, looking away.

"Bad day?" He asks after another moment of silence, daring to glance back at me.

"Not a good one," I answer around my own cigarette, then hold it between my left pinkie and ring finger so I can stick my tongue out to wet the paper so it'll stick together.

"You wanna talk about it?" He asks.

I don't acknowledge his question, instead picking off a spare bit of tobacco that sticks out from the end of the new cigarette, then put the leftover back in my pouch. I offer it to him, asking if he needs a lighter. He nods, and he takes it with such a gentle hand it's like I'm watching a 15 year old try to act cool for his sisters college friends or something.

I lean back, removing the cheap, purple BIC from my shorts pocket and hand it to him. It shouldn't irritate me how he looks at the items like he's completely clueless, failing to hide it as his brows furrow in thought.

"It's not gonna kill you," I say to him.

"I mean... they will," he says quietly.

There's another silent moment. He toys with the lighter, flicking it to life.

"Why purple?" He finally asks. I look at him, our eyes meeting. He doesn't look less tired than me, but he looks concerned more than anything, which irritates but sates me all at once.

I contemplate answering honestly. Take another drag, hold, exhale.

"When I graduated high school, I started fucking this guy. Awful man, great-" I pause. "Mediocre dick."

I don't say that for Mike's benefit, let me make that clear.

"But I thought it was great at the time. And I thought I liked him. And his favorite color was purple," I say.

Mike looks down at the lighter again, letting the flame die.

"We smoked together," I clarify. "I thought he would like it."

"So, you've had this since high school?" He asks, sounding slightly impressed.

"No," I say. "I just became the friend with the purple lighter, so I stuck with the theme. They're cheap, so it's easy."

He nods, then finally lifts the cigarette to his chapped lips, licking them and carefully holding it as he lights it. I watch, anticipating his coughing fit, which he tries to suppress after his first inhale, though there's already tears in his eyes. I look away, trying to let him pop his cherry in peace.

"Did he?" He asks in a very strained voice, sounding pathetic as he holds in his breath.

I furrow my brows, looking back at him. His face is red, his chest is trembling.

"You're gonna die," I point out, reaching to pet his back, rubbing right next to his spine, under his lung. "Hold your arms up, that'll help."

He obeys, exhaling and coughing so disgustingly it makes me grimace. But I just rub, trying to help him as he sounds like he's trying not to vomit. I should take the cigarette away from him, but I kind of don't want to. This is the D.A.R.E. exercise that works, in my opinion.

"Like it," he coughs out, gasping for clean air. "Did-"

"Okay, okay, I got it now," I reassure him, patting a bit harder on his back. He gives me a thumbs up, finally starting to recover, and sniffling back tears that threaten to trail down his face. This man is 25, by the way.

I sit back onto my palms, relaxing now that he isn't going to die. I let him recover for another moment, then watch as he decides to go in for another hit.

"He didn't," I answer. Mike does better on this inhale, not trying to act cool and letting himself cough, which helps extremely. "He didn't even notice it, and when I pointed it out he just told me it's his favorite color because girls thought it was cool."

Mike's brows furrow in disgust, and at first I think it's from the cigarette.

"Dick," he coughs, smoke pouring out of his mouth and nose, which must burn based off of how he picks at his nostrils, trying to wipe away the burning sensation.

I nod. "Yep," I say, popping the 'p.' Then there's silence again, me smoking, Mike trying.

Eventually, I reach the end of my stick and snub it out. Mike contemplates holding out, then decides against it. Probably for the best. He looks a little green around the gills.

"So, what makes you go out and buy loose tobacco and smoke like you're used to it?" Mike asks me, handing me back the lighter and remainder of his cigarette, which is warm in my palm.

"I don't even know," I sigh, looking down at the semi pregnant joint. Not my best roll. "I've just been exhausted lately."

"Work?" He asks. I shake my head. "Friends?"

"I don't know," I sigh irritablely.

"Is there-"

"Don't ask me what you can do, because everyone else had already asked and if I have to sit through another grilling on this shit, I'm gonna fucking bite someone's head off," I snap, raising my head to look at the fence in front of us, closing us in and providing privacy from the neighbors that drink too much and party too loud during football season.

Mike sucks his teeth again, looking down at his lap. "Think you just did," he points out quietly. But it's not to make me feel bad. The delivery is almost comedic, really. More for my entertainment than guilt.

"I'm sorry," I say softly, shame creeping into my stomach and making me bury my head in my hands. I try to think of something else to say, an explanation to give. But all I can say is a repeat, "I'm sorry."

Even though I can't see him, I know Mike's face softens. His arms encircle me gently, pulling me closer to him, smoke so wrongly mixed with the taste of mouthwash on his breath.

"Hey," he soothes. "It's okay."

"I'm just tired," I say in a strained voice.

"I know," he says.

"And my head hurts."

"I'm sorry."

"And I can't sleep at night."

Mike's quiet at that, trying to figure out what to say, what to offer. My insomnia isn't new, and he's offered his own sleep pills, but I decline everytime. I'm just glad by the time my leg starts bouncing enough to rock the bed, the medication has such a deep hold on him he doesn't appear to notice. I wonder if he feels guilty that he sleeps so much easier than I, a relief that escapes me.

"Have you been eating?" He asks.

I scoff. Rude.

"I'm serious," he says.

"Yes, I'm eating," I answer, not raising my head from my hands, my palms digging against my eyes.

"How much?" He asks.

"Michael-"

"I just want to make sure-"

"Don't baby me-"

"I'm not babying you-"

"Than what the fuck is this?" I ask, looking up at him.

"This is me being worried over you," he says as though it were obvious, furrowing his brows.

"Well, I don't fucking need it," I tell him, now trying to rise, but his hands hold me down, pissing me off.

"Hang on, let's talk about this-"

"What the fuck is there to talk about?" I snap, standing so abruptly it throws us both off balance.

Mike stares up at me incredulously, his mouth slightly agape. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He asks me, his concern turning into a glare.

I don't answer, storming back into the house wordlessly as he calls my name, opening the door with strength I don't mean to use because it sends the glass sliding door ramming into the other side of the wall, but thankfully it doesn't break.

"Hey!" I can hear Mike's snap echoing sharply in the room, loud and making me flinch as I storm away. "You don't fucking slam that door!"

I don't respond, too irritated and guilt ridden to acknowledge him, my mind scrambled on locations of where I can run for comfort. My feet carry me automatically to the living room, my hand snatching my keys off the coffee table.

Mike calls after me again, demanding of me that I come back, that I talk about this. But I don't want to. These emotions inside of me, I don't even know why they exist, what they are, what part of my soul to bare to force them to go away.

I unlock the front door, and there's part of me that acknowledges I don't have a phone on me. I'll be on my own, alone. A state in which I used to never find comfort, but is now the only state in which I know how to exist in.

Mike grabs at me, a bit too rough to be appropriate. He's desperate, maybe angry, maybe scared of what will happen if I walk out that door. He's stronger than me, which makes me react in fear rather than logic.

I jerk my arm out of his grasp, but I have to use such force it sends my fist flying into my own face, my eye getting a good hit in the process, making Mike freeze temporarily.

It just makes me run out the door, into the night, scurrying into my car and turning the key quickly, leaving both of us to wonder where the hell I'm going and when I'll be back.

For both of our sake, I wish I had an answer. And I'm sorry that running feels better than staying.

I'd be a better person if I could be. If it could bring me comfort.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Rawdogged this like I did your mom last night.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool @laurrrelise @sleepyhutcherson . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

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yaekiss · 8 months

Note

Congratulations on the 400! If I'm not too late, may I send a #mailroom open letter to a yan!Albedo? Any gender neutral or feminine nickname would work and, if it so pleases you, a nsfw reply would be lovely.

__________________________

To my lovely Albedo,

How are you, love? Are you taking care of yourself while I'm away? As I sit here, working away in Inazuma City while I enjoy a sweet dessert, I cannot help but think of you... and your tendency to get swallowed up by your research when I'm not there to reel you back.

I was hoping that my business here would be done far faster than this. I suppose it isn't all bad, though. I can't say that I've ever been a social person, but people have been nothing but kind to me thus far. I may have even made a friend. But still, my heart belongs to you- and as such, no matter how I may enjoy my time, I can only eagerly await the moment I am able to return home.

I miss you dearly, my prince. I'll make sure to work even harder so that our time apart may be shortened by even a little bit. I can't to have you in my arms again, to feel the warmth of your embrace and know that everything is right with the world.

We both know that I could go on with the sweet words for pages and pages, so it's probably best that I stop here. Stay safe and take care of yourself, alright? I love you so, so much.

May my affections cross what feels like an eternity apart,

Your Wistful Lover

(Alongside the letter are various, shockingly well-preserved Inazuman sweets including Sakura Mochi and Dango milk, as well as a small pouch containing a handful of carefully-chosen Sakura Blooms. Lastly is an intricately designed silken blindfold, with its own little note attached that reads, "I had this custom made for you. I wanted to make one myself, but I couldn't find the time. Hopefully you like it anyway!")

꩜ Letter Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Albedo, no gendered terms for reader, Albedo calls you "my constant", mentions of blindfolds and a vibrator used on Albedo, unhealthy and obsessive relationship from Albedo, lmk if I missed anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: Albedo sure is a busy man to track down... I had to look for him all over Mondstadt since he was gathering quite a collection of alchemy ingredients. It was quite the staggering assortment too... I never understand what he's planning. ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!

Placed at your hotel doorstep is an innocuous package. It's decently sized, the box a lovely shade of pale indigo and shifting it slightly under the light shows an underlying iridescence hidden in the pigment.

Undoing the sturdy rope securing the lid down, you gain access to the contents within the box. You first retrieve a wondrous blooming bouquet of cecilias, wrapped in a sheer gauzy yellow fabric and tied with a teal satin ribbon. The petals are soft under your caress and for a moment, you reminisce about the first cecilia Albedo gifted to you after showcasing his alchemy.

Next, you fish out a cloth drawstring pouch. Peering into it, there's an assortment of all your favourite Mondstadt candies, enough to last you weeks. A little tag is attached to one of the strings, it reads: “In case you miss your usual sweet treats and need a boost of energy. ♡”

Unwrapping one, you pop it into your mouth before you pull out an envelope. The paper is smooth under your fingers and an impressive sketch of Dragonspine decorates the front. Flipping the envelope over, there's a wax seal, a cursive letter “A”, with flecks of gold dotted in it.

Carefully, you open it and obtain the parchment inside. His handwriting is a sight you've missed, from days spent watching him jot down his hypothesis and findings in his laboratory. Albedo's response to you reads:

“Replying to: My beloved constant.

Thank you for writing to me, my constant, I was growing somewhat nervous with your prolonged silence and I feared something unsavoury might have happened to you. As such, I am writing back to you to assure you that I've been doing alright as well. Though, I'm sure I would do a lot better with you by my side.

Next, I must thank you for the gifts you sent me. I shared the sweets with Klee and she has been pleading nonstop with me for more. Also, the sakura blooms were of high quality and proved immensely useful in my research. If you're willing, I can share my findings with you when you return, my constant.

Now, I can't help but ask what went through your mind, gifting me such a sly gift as a blindfold. What scene did you picture in your head? Was I blindfolded and tied up on your bed while begging for you to please touch me? Or perhaps I'm laid on my laboratory table, my sight obscured with the silk, pliant and willing as you drag a vibrator across my skin in an attempt to find my erogenous zones? Did you fantasise about muffling my moans with a kiss as you toyed with me? You should reenact it with me as soon as you get back, my constant, I feel as if I'm about to burst with how much I long for your embrace.

Ahem, getting back on track, I too have been working hard. (Fret not, I have not been overworking myself. I do not wish to worry you after all.) And I've made discoveries of my own and uncovered intriguing new possibilities whilst ruminating alone in my laboratory. I heard of the Inazuman archon's dedication to eternity.

Eternity... goes against natural orders, but lately, I have been finding myself relating to her obsession with such a concept. You might think it strange, my constant. However, I can understand how fearing the loss of someone close to you can affect your decisions, despite the morality of said actions.

You are golden in my eyes, unforgettable, and the time I spend with you feels like I'm the closest to unravelling the truth and meaning of this world. Is it my greed talking when I say that I want more time to uncover all of you, to understand the very fibre of your being, to see what has irreversibly drawn me to you and what makes you stay by my side? Maybe it is, but that is a question best saved for another day, my constant.

I shall end my letter here. I sincerely hope that the rest of your stay in Inazuma goes smoothly and safely, and that your return will be swift. I cannot wait to have you by my side once more, my constant. I love you so, so much as well.

Ever and eternally yours,

- Albedo -”

You fold the parchment and place it back into the envelope. One last item rests in the box. It's a handpainted painting of you, framed in an intricate wooden frame. Albedo captures your smile in the sunlight, the background featuring one of the picnics the both of you went on recently before you left for Inazuma.

However, you notice that one of the corners is a little wrinkled. Removing the backing of the frame to fix it, you discover another layer of canvas material behind that first painting. Gingerly, you peel it back to reveal a haunting portrait of the both of you.

In dim lighting, you're seated on his laboratory table whilst he's knelt at your feet, his head resting on your lap. You almost don't recognise yourself. You're familiar with his art style but in this, you're ethereal to an eldritch degree... almost devoid of humanity. It's unnerving, to say the least.

Perhaps Albedo's research has veered into more forbidden territories, challenging the principals of nature, all in the name of love. You muster one more look at the portrait.

A matching star rests delicately on your neck. In the bottom corner, he titles it “New birth.”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

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