#I really said “Stardust Pov go!”

[welcometomybraincomics]

Me trying to write Starlight Guilt with more Stardust snips so I can get a proper story going:

Some random background character I've never heard of before: Actually, it's my turn to be the main character

#Hahaahhahaha #I really said “Stardust Pov go!” #and then Ransei (who did not exist 5 minutes ago) said “that's my que!” #and decided to be a lowly mortal witnessing the world beginning to fall apart before his eyes #Starlight Guilt #Writing stuff

[keravnous]

desperado! ; tangerine/fem!reader (smut 18+)

read pt. 1 here | read pt. 3 here | read pt. 4 here

The Twins are laying low in Amsterdam. Growing bored of being stuck in the hideout all day, Tangerine decides to explore what the shifty parts of the city have to offer at night.

word count: 12,9k

warnings: i mean if atj can dance then tangerine can too, tango dancing bc it's very sexy and steamy ok; car sex, head while driving, oral (male receiving), masturbation (female), fingering, rough and passionate sex, undernegotiated kinks: (light) spanking, daddy kink (once or twice), unprotected sex, choking, pet names, dirty talk, name calling, hotel sex; they steal a car bc why not, short intro from tangerine's pov, small glimpses into his dysfunctionality, rather slow story development at the beginning, i still have very strong feelings about this angry man so please, have this

title is from the song of the same name, desperado by rihanna

the songs they're dancing to are esta noche en vivo by carlos libedinsky and otra luna by narcotango

mel said: kinda sad we didnt get to suck his dick in bathroom b!tch and I said: same

The air is still warm and a little humid despite the late hour, filled with laughter and the sweet, sweet smell of alcohol and marihuana, sweat and summer. Tangerine takes another drag from his cigarette, watches how the smoke curls into the dark sky, illuminated by the colourful lights of the city. He takes a deep breath.

He sighs, relishes in the way his shoulders relax. He feels alive -- again; finally. It's a real relief, has his limbs going a little slack. He had felt anger clawing at his chest for the past week now, the beast inside ripping his skin to shreds and lashing out with its razor-sharp claws - mostly at his brother. But since he had left the flat about an hour ago it has been curled up rather peacefully in his chest, with a satisfied purr in sync with his heartbeat.

Next to him, the water in the canals lays calmly, reflecting the city's lights and echoing the clinking of glasses and music that wafts through the streets. Tangerine passes by a restaurant, people sitting outside under string lights, drinking, chatting, eating and he watches them as he strolls by. They radiate happiness and it catches onto him like a wave, has him smiling at the sight. He takes another drag of his cigarette, enjoys the way the smoke burns in his throat. Jesus Christ, how he had missed this.

There just aren't enough books, good books, that can keep him holed up in a small flat for a whole fucking month. And thus, he had decided to break - well, bend - the rules a little tonight.

Their contact, Henk, had told him about that one spot where one could get anything: from alcohol to various drugs and weapons, maybe even a hitman. If one's lucky. And Tangerine does feel a whole lot of fucking luck pumping through his veins tonight, making him feel a little light-headed, stardust at the heels of his shoes.

His chest feels light and his feet are practically flying over the cobblestones, a smile toying with the corners of his mouth as he lays his head back, watches the illuminated sky above - exhales smoke, inhales the night.

A group of students staggers by, laughing and cheering, passing a bottle of liquor around. His gaze follows them, nostalgia tearing at his heartstrings as he remembers the times when Lemon and him were just that - young and without a care in the world.

Now, their hands are sticky with blood - metaphorically, he had washed his well and thoroughly after last month's job went wrong - and they are both in hiding. Again.

Lemon insisted it would be careless to go out at night, at any time of the day really - "That's bollocks, mate. You can't just go out, can ya? What if they sent someone after us?" -, but especially if it was just to have some fun. Because fuck fun, right?

But, there is nothing else to do anyways, with the way his brain always, always finds a way back to his own recent failure and how it was linked to Bolivia.

Bolivia -- it still leaves him sleepless and shaking sometimes, just like tonight.

Tangerine had been pacing the living room craving a drink until Lemon fell asleep, and then decided that he needed a change of scenery, something to take his mind of the carnage and its debris.

"Yeah, let's just all go fuckin' insane in that flat, huh", Tangerine huffs to himself, looking at his phone. It beeps, signalling him that he is getting closer to his destination. His feet carry him through the streets of Amsterdam, a warm summer breeze rustles his silk shirt and cools his warm skin as he passes by restaurants, bars and closed book and flower shops.

Eventually, he comes to a halt in front of a launderette: Wassen bij Muriel.

The neon lights inside are on, illuminating the sidewalk in a cold white. He blinks. There is no one inside but an old lady behind the counter and a grimly looking man sitting on a plastic stool in the back corner. He can hear faint music coming from behind the glass door.

To an unsuspecting tourist it would look like a rancid shop but to him, it doesn't. Tangerine knows better, has been to a lot of places like this.

"Alright", he says - lets his neck crack once, twice and throws his cigarette away - before pushing the door open, the bell above ringing.

***

You watch your friend leaning down towards the young woman, sitting in a darkened corner. Your father never wanted you to befriend any of his third or fourth row dealers but you never were one to follow rules, always going for the next thrill, the next rush of adrenaline. But tonight, there's been no rush so far, no tingling of your veins - just pure and blank boredom.

You had picked out your favourite dress in the prospect of being offered to dance with a handsome stranger, even ditched on the underwear to make sure the thin fabric hugged your curves nicely, but the men in here are mostly uninteresting, ordinary - simple dealers or lowlife thugs, street criminals that steal money from unwary tourists.

You watch how your friend, with a quick sleight of hand, exchanges cocaine for money, laughing at the woman like she is an old friend and then makes his way back to the bar. He winks at you and squeezes past a young couple, orders himself a drink.

You swirl your glass between your fingers, watching the remaining puddle of wine running up and down its walls - dripping down like blood - and then bring it up to your lips, emptying it in one sip. The taste is warm and full, rich and you close your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to get lost in the strumming of the band's contrabass and the red wine on your tongue. It reminds you of that one time in Bogotá, when you and your father had visited his suppliers - wine and music melting together with the summer heat, having you dream of the jungle, old villages, and the beaches of private islands off the coast.

Your father had dragged you along once more, this time to Amsterdam, despite your pleas not to - "You will have to take over one day and I want you to be prepared" - and you were gladly sneaking away when your friend invited you to spend the night at his favourite bar.

It is a tango joint and a beautiful place, an old basement with low ceilings and a small bar, people and furniture bathed in colourful neon lights. Purple and red are dancing across faces and sweaty bodies - swirling over the dance floor or pressed against the cold walls, tongues shoved into mouths - reflecting off glasses and expensive jewellery.

It is a place where people like you and your friends get together: the upcoming generation of an international crime elite, sons and daughters throwing away their parents’ blood or drug money, getting high and drunk hidden by the shadows of the night, staying awake until the sun rises again. It's a place where people like you mix and mingle with those working for your families, a welcome change to a certain hierarchy at something a civilian would naively call a safe space.

You open your eyes again, as the band starts to play a new song, blinking while your eyes adjust to the dim, colourful lights. There still are couples swirling across the dance floor to the sensual rhythm of the tango, that the small band in the back is playing. You let out a sigh at both, the loneliness and the boredom creeping in on you, and turn around on your barstool to order yourself another drink as --

Your shoulder suddenly connects heavily with something firm and warm - triggering a muttered Fuckin' hell - and a second later the man, who you just bumped into, turns around. He looks pissed, left eye twitching.

"'M sorry", you say quickly, a little taken aback by both: his anger and his beauty. The former doesn't seem to last very long, with his lips tilting up a little, eyes gleaming mischievously while they dance over your frame.

"Apology accepted, love", he has a strong northern British accent, like some of your father's business partners do.

But he is arguably a lot more handsome than any of them are. Dark, combed, and slicked back hair that curls right over his shoulders building a nice contrast to his light blue, short-sleeved silk shirt, unbuttoned down to his belly - exposing golden jewellery. The necklace shines warmly against his pale skin, glimmering purple in the dim lights.

It might be the alcohol and the loneliness but you really, really want to just dart one hand out, run it over his chest and his neck, feeling his warmth and the few locks of chest hair, smelling and tasting the scent of summer on his skin.

You wonder what he does, what his profession is. The 70s porn-stache, vintage Rolex and golden rings scream Miami and you can't help but imagine him in the hot sun, bare chested, blood on his hands - red red red - cutting open bricks of cocaine -

"May I get you a drink, love?", his voice pulls you out of your daydreams and you blink. He must've caught you staring.

You know, that men like him usually mean trouble. And yet, you can hear yourself say: "That'd be very nice, thank you."

He lifts two fingers up, signalling the man behind the bar that he wants to order something and you notice that his knuckles are bruised. Blue and green mixing with the red of the scab, partially healed. There are scars on his forearm, meandering between his tattoos and up up up his arm below the soft, expensive silk of his shirt.

The goosebumps that erupt on your skin are nothing but pleasant as you immediately know what type of man he is. Everyone in here is on the market for something: drugs, love, sex, guns - but rarely does one sell murder. Real, cold-blooded murder. Ruthless, fast, dirty.

He's trying to hide it but watching him as he discusses the menu with the bartender, it sticks out like a sore thumb: the well-mannered gestures crash with his fucked-up hands, the way he's dressed like a drug-selling pimp refuses to fit in with his sugar-coated talk and the way he moves can't hide a lingering anger, like a raging beast pacing in a cage.

It is a carefully put together façade, but it's no use against you. You know men like him and you know them well. They don't scare you - quite the opposite, and thus the pure and utter danger he emits has excitement tingling in your stomach. As fucked up as it is: it makes you want him - adrenaline kicking in, shooting a tingle right between your legs.

He turns around again and you lean forward a little, deciding to make your move soon.

"'S a Mezcal Margarita alright with you, love?", he asks and you throw him your most charming smile, nodding.

"We'll take two then, mate", he nods and slides a few bucks over the counter, watches the bartender pouring liquid into a cocktail tumbler.

"Sooo", the man turns around towards you and grins, shows some teeth as his hand vanishes in the pocket of his linen trousers, pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. He's taking a looong deliberate drag, puffing out the smoke, "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Y/N", you reply, gaze dropping to his lips and back up, where his gaze catches yours. He has beautiful eyes, blue like the fucking sea and the purple neon lights make them glow with mischief and smugness - dark and oddly promising, inviting - framed by long lashes.

One of your fingers brushes over his hand, that is resting on the counter. The wooden surface is sticky with half-dried alcohol. His gaze holds yours while he takes another drag of his cigarette. You just might lose yourself in the hue that dances over his eyes.

"And you are?", you say, just loud enough to be audible over the music.

His gaze drops to your fingers that are brushing over his golden rings and he chuckles: "Don't ya try stealing those, sugar, I know that fuckin' trick", and you smile innocently, as he leans in a little, "Name's Tangerine, love." There are cheers erupting from the dancefloor, the rhythm of the music picking up.

You pout playfully and his eyes dance over your face, glimmering mischievously. "Oh", you sigh, "And here I was, thinking you'd may even give me your real name."

"Can't, love, m'sorry."

"Mh pity -- who did you kill?"

"Who said I killed someone?", he's dangerously close now, voice a low rumble.

"Your hands", your fingers dance over the crust of his knuckles and his eyes gleam. For a moment he says nothing and then, towering over your sitting form, voice low and rough:

"Aren't ya afraid o'me, love?"

"Terribly", and he grins at that, his eyes holding yours captive.

"Bet you are", Tangerine hums, barely audible and sticks his cigarette between his lips, one hand darting up, has his thumb gently grazing over your chin.

The touch is nice, soft and gentle but firm, in full control. It makes your chest tingle, sends a wave of pleasure through your body. His eyes flick over your face and you find yourself growing a little hot under his gaze. You wonder is he's going to lean in, ditch his cigarette and --

The bartender places two glasses in front of you and it makes you snap out of it for a second, noticing how close Tangerine got. His thighs are touching your knees and his face is so so close to yours, noses mere inches apart.

"Thanks, mate", Tangerine says, pulls the glasses closer. You watch him - slender fingers getting a little wet with condensed water, cigarette between his lips, chain and bracelet rustling with the sudden movement. There's a thin film of sweat glistening on his chest and it has your thighs clench with raw and utter want, wanting to put your lips onto the firm the muscles, licking his skin clean.

The way his body still presses against your knees, is electrifying and you decide to invite him in more. You let your knees fall apart, making way for him. His gaze drops down and he chuckles to himself but moves in nonetheless, one of his hands gently coming to a rest on your thigh, holding you close and in place. The touch shoves the soft, flowy silk of your cowl dress aside, the slit in the fabric exposing your thigh. Tangerine's hand is warm on your skin, rings pressing cooly against your hot flesh, as he starts groping you - thumb digging into your thigh and you gasp quietly.

"Been wantin' to ask -- what's a pretty girl like you doin' in a place like this, huh?", he says, cigarette bobbing up and down in the corner of his mouth.

"My friend sells blow here", you say truthfully - not a full lie and yet not the complete truth, but you know better than to trust a stranger with your ties to your family's business - and piqued interest flickers through his gaze.

Tangerine then, very languidly, takes another looong drag from his cigarette and taps some of the ash on the counter, holding your gaze with his own. "D'you sell yourself, love?"

You laugh at that, violently shaking your head. "Hell, no."

He chuckles, eyes roaming over your face. "Well, looks like I got myself a good girl, then eh?", he knows what he is doing, voice low and deep and you swallow.

"I wouldn't say so", you whisper, "But why don't you come a bit closer and find out?"

Tangerine flashes a grin, shows his bright bright teeth, one of his hands coming up and stroking his moustache while he shakes his head in disbelief.

It's stupid. Very fucking stupid. He shouldn't. He should get the fuck out of here - quickly. This is dangerous. She might be, too.

Instead, he looks up again. Ah, fuck it - fuck the rules. Lemon will get it - maybe. Ultimately, he will, simply has to - with the beast inside rattling the cage.

Tangerine leans in, his hand on your thigh sneaking up, making its way over your hip, your side and then cups your body, thumb digging into your flesh underneath your tit. Your heartbeat picks up as he pulls you close and you nearly yelp, scooting forward on the barstool, your hand coming up and grasping his forearm, holding on to him. "Well, why don't we fuckin' drink to that then, love?", he rasps, the hand resting on the bar pulls your glass in.

With a shaking hand you take it, fingers closing in around the cool glass and you watch him raising his, bud of cigarette nearly touching it. He is exhilarating, demanding and firm underneath the attire of a gentleman and it has your head swimming, wetness pooling between your legs. Excitement bubbles up in your chest, wondering where the night may, will lead.

"Cheers, love", Tangerine smirks and winks at you, both your glasses clink. He is still so so close, your knees still hitting his hips and his tongue runs over the edge, licks the salt away slowly, playfully until he downs half the Margarita in one go, like it's water.

You raise one brow, carefully taking a sip. The salt on the edge of the glass tingles on your lips and the liquor burns nicely in your throat as you take another. It's a hellishly strong cocktail and you wonder if he's a regular drinker. A lot of people like him - call them what you like, assassins, killers, hitmen - are.

Tangerine eyes the glass in his hand, weighs it from left to right a little, then nods to himself in approval while you take another sip. He instead downs the other half of the cocktail and puts the glass back on the counter. It's a quick, routinely movement and you come to realize that you may be right. You decide to not give it too much thought, because he's hot and he freed you from the boredom threatening to swallow you whole tonight and because everything about him has your blood singing with the gleeful promise of adrenaline. You put your glass next to his and look up at him through your lashes. He catches the invitation.

Tangerine throws his cigarette into his empty glass and then leans in again. The tip of his nose brushing over yours, the sensual music entangling both of you as his gaze flicks over your face.

You hook one leg around his waist and he moves in closer, pressing yourself against him, one hand on his arm - to anyone looking over you might even seem like an actual couple, enjoying the night out - and hunger burns in his eyes. His lips brush over yours and you know he's toying with you, keen on him leaning in to fucking kiss you already --

The music stops.

There's sudden silence as the band passes a bottle of whiskey around and the two of you freeze, blinking dumbfoundedly. The silence is odd, stalling both of you but you can't help it, feeling like drowning in the dark dark blue of his eyes, shimmering with green in the purple light. You can hear Tangerine breathe quietly with him being so utterly close to you and it's nice, comfortingly human and you can't help but smile against his lips still hovering over yours, a gentle gesture that is being reciprocated by him.

You're a little dizzy with it too, the alcohol, lack of fresh air and his body warmth mixing together, making you a little unsteady. He has pure and raw want tingling in your belly, your hand on his upper arm clenching around the firm muscles a little, thumb brushing over the soft material. And then, just as the music picks up again, his lips brush against yours: "You don't happen to wanna dance, do ya, love?"

"Fuck yes, thought you'd never ask", and Tangerine laughs, a deep, pleasant sound that rumbles in his chest and offers you his hand.

Yours runs down down down his arm and closes around his, while he's making some room for you to slip off of the barstool and then he's pulling you close again - your body pressing smack against his side as he's dragging you along to the makeshift dance floor.

The crowd still cheers, applauds the band and the bandoneon plays the few first chords of a new song. Tangerine gently takes your hand in his, thumb cupping your index and middle finger as your palm rests against his. His other hand sneaks around your waist and rests and the small of your back, holding you close. He looks at you and you feel like drowning in his eyes, pupils blown wide and you wonder when he'll show first signs of being drunk, with the way you already feel a little warm, light-headed. In a few minutes, maybe an hour you'll learn that he holds his liquor way better than you hold your own.

He is even closer to you now than before at the bar and now you can smell his perfume through the thick cloud of smoke that wavers through the basement's air - he smells nice, deep and rich of citrus and a little of vanilla and cigarettes, reminds you of the summer you've spent in Palermo once.

Tangerine gently places one hand below your shoulder and yours comes up, rests on his shoulder, just as he starts to move to the music. He takes a step backwards, guiding your forward and gently guides you through the crowd - a steady back and forth in rhythm with the tango.

Tangerine's hand still holds yours, guides your arm until it is stretched out and then it abandons your hand, runs down down down your arm very gently, pads of his fingers brushing over your soft skin, hairs on your arms rising. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers cradle back between yours, a smile tugging at his lips.

One of his legs pushes between yours while he manoeuvres you backwards, hand on your waist holding you close. Tangerine presses himself against you, heat radiating off of his body with both your arms still stretched out and you grip his hand tightly, leaning back. You arch your back, raising one leg and hooking it around his waist as his gaze locks with yours. You can feel his crotch pressing against yours, with the way the skirt of your dress hikes up your legs. He is warm and a little hard already, has the breath hitching in your throat and arousal igniting your loins.

Tangerine leans down a little, lips still curled up in smile and then pulls you up like you weigh nothing and you stretch your legs in a delicate, slight split as he twirls you around, your chest firmly resting against his.

His arm presses onto your back, holds you close until your feet touch the ground once more and he immediately guides you sideways with a few long and slow strides until he comes to a halt. One of your arms wraps around his shoulders as he holds you close and you stretch your leg out, your heel gliding forward over the concrete floor of the basement, stretching your leg out in front of you and then gently sliding it backwards into a deep lunge, your body following the movement. You lean back and Tangerine follows, leans down and towers over your body.

He holds you there for a moment, chest rising and falling, brows furrowed a little before he carefully helps you back up - immediately embracing your body once more.

The music speeds up and so does he while guiding you over the dancefloor, face close to yours with unbreaking eye contact as you swirl over the concrete.

At the next strum of the contrabass, you take a step back, arching your back. Very playfully you sway your hips, shoulders loosely following while one of hands rests on his forearm, the other lays in his hand, feet tapping the floor rhythmically with the movement of your hips.

You know that he has a perfect view of your body, your hard nipples being visible through the thin fabric of your dress. His gaze drops down, watches how the silk plays with your curves, eyes growing a little darker. You move in and Tangerine pulls you close, your hand intertwined with his resting on his chest and his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, moustache tingling. "No underwear, I reckon, love?", he hums, the fingers of his other hand brushing over your waist.

And you shake your head, whispering: "No, none", and it has his eyebrows shooting up in surprise, a low chuckle escaping his throat. "Fuck me", he breathes and holds you close while moving over the dancefloor, one hand gently but firmly resting on your ass cheek, hiking the hem of your dress up a little.

The touch ignites you and you press against him, leaning in, nose brushing over his jaw, eyelids fluttering. You are pressed against each other, movements slowing down and blooming into a languid sensuality in dance: long strides, toying with him a little - turning your head away, stretching your arm out, only for his hand to gently caress it - feet wrapping around his calf, leg pushing between his. Tangerine is patient with the little game you are playing, unerringly keeping the lead and you in your place.

You wonder if he fucks like he dances. It makes your skin going hot, imagination running wild and breath hitching.

The song ebbs and the crowd applauds and the two of you come to a halt as well, but not parting, not partaking in the celebration of the band. You are clawing to him, breath going fast and heavy and so does his, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. His hand momentarily rejects your waist to brush through his hair and then returns. His touch is firm, a little rough and you sigh contently.

Some people are looking your way, intrigued by what got over the two of you, enticed by each other and oblivious to the surrounding world. It's a dangerous thing - letting your guard down, for both of you - but you couldn't care less.

Tangerine smirks down at you and licks his lips. "D'ya know what ya do to me, dove?", he says quietly and you know but you feel the same, and thus, your hand brushes over his shoulder to his neck and you nestle your bods against his.

You wonder if he can feel your raising heartbeat, smell the lust and the excitement spreading in your body. You look up at him, fingers burying themselves in his locks.

"Mhm - do you?", you reply just as quietly and Tangerine chuckles, eyes falling shut.

Your bodies stay like that, closely pressing against each other with the music picking back up. You gently rest your forehead on his temple, leaning onto him as he holds you close. You can't help it, you just want to fucking touch him and your hand runs over his shoulder to the front, gently moves up his throat and then cups his jaw, fingers brushing over the clean-shaven skin. It's soft and warm and you can feel, hear him take a deep breath.

Moving across the floor slowly, Tangerine's body turns into an anchor for your long, ardent strides; his strong arms holding you up during each turn, muscles twitching beneath your touch. He is so so close to you, so warm - each one of his steps lingering with desire and it washes over you like a wave, has the hairs on your body standing up.

You sink against him, falling into his embrace, arms clinging around his neck and his hand is pressed on your shoulder, the other remains in the air uselessly as he looks down in surprise, brows furrowed. He can see, feel your chest heaving, a quiet whimper escaping your mouth.

Then, his lips curl into a smug grin.

Tangerine carefully twirls you around, hands gripping your waist and pulling you closer. Your back rests against his chest and you can feel the tip of his nose brushing through your hair as his hands move over your body - one resting on your belly, the other gently cupping you below your breast, feeling the way your heart races against your ribcage, and his touch sends shivers down your spine, has arousal shooting right between your legs. You remain this way for a few beats, the blood in your veins pumping with the rhythm of the music, feeling his strong frame pressing against you - his breath on your temple and his cologne wrapping you in. His body radiates warmth and you can feel his chest rising against your back, his hardening dick pressing against your ass.

Lust tingles in your stomach looking up at him and, at the next strum of the contrabass, you take his hand and twirl out of his embrace. Tangerine follows and pulls you back in and your hand crawls up his arm, another one resting on his neck. His gaze locks with yours as he leans down, tip of his nose brushing against yours.

The hands on your back keeps you close, a dark shadow resting over his eyes, turning them into a deep deep sea. He slowly guides you forward with two long strides and then firmly hooks one arm around you, lunges backward a little and you follow his movement, bending your leg and resting it against his groin. His hard cock presses against your thigh, and he leans in, lips brushing over yours before straightening both of you back up, heels of your shoes connecting firmly with the ground. Tangerine swirls you over the floor and manoeuvres you through the dancing couples, until he eventually, when the space arises, grabs your hips once more. You let yourself fall, upper body leaning back delicately, enthralled by his strength and the way he guides you through the dance, and he pulls you back up.

Your hand runs up his chest, fingers clawing at the silk as your gazes lock once more. You suck in a few breaths, his scent clouding up your mind, hand running higher and higher, thumb cupping his cheek and fingers resting in his hair behind his ear, earring pressing cooly against your skin.

His lips are slightly agape, eyes you up and down, while his hand presses you close. "Yeah, fuck, you wanna take this elsewhere, love?", he rasps and you nod, eyelids fluttering with the hidden promise.

All the while Tangerine navigates you through the crowd, he holds you close, blood pumping in your ears with the way the music makes your chest vibrate, his scent clouding up your mind - only him him him.

As soon as you are out on the street Tangerine is onto you again, pulls you close in the bright lights of the laundrette and kisses you like a starving man. His arms wrap around your waist, pressing you against him, tits flush against his chest, as his tongue licks into your mouth. Your hands run up his arms, one of them curling his neck and the other cupping his jaw. You can feel his hard dick through his linen slacks and it makes you hot all over, wetness pooling between your legs. You break the kiss, heaving against his lips.

"Fuck", Tangerine huffs, hand on your waist wandering down, cupping one of your ass cheeks. You mewl, eyelids fluttering. You're desperate to touch him, for him to fuck you.

"My hotel's nearby", you whisper and it sounds so fucking needy, "We could take the tram?"

"Yeah sure, lead the way", and you do, stealing another long and sloppy, hungry kiss from him and then he's pulling you close, holds you by his side as the two of you rush down the streets of Amsterdam - heels clicking, sweet nothings on the tip of your tongues. Some people turn their heads, voyeurism kicking in at the oddly hot couple with the air around them cracking with their energy, watching how the two of you rush by - the woman giggling and clearly a little drunk, hands roaming all over the man's chest, while he holds her close, thick British accent wrapping her in.

That is, until he stops dead in his tracks next to an alley on a rather empty street.

"Oi, wait a bloody minute, love -- would'ya look at that", Tangerine looks down an alleyway and you lean in closer, trying to get a look at what he's seeing, peaking over his shoulder on the tip of your toes. His hand is still resting on your waist, fingers splayed out.

"What?", there's nothing. Just cars parked beneath a warmly glowing streetlight in a dark alley.

"That", his finger darts out and points at a beige convertible.

"I -- that's a car?"

He looks a you, a little offended.

"That's not just a car, love. That's a 1966 Cadillac Coupe DeVille."

You blink, watching him while he eyes the vehicle, fingers brushing over his stache absent-mindedly.

"What are you thinking 'bout?", and it doesn't even take him a second to reply: "I wanna steal it."

Well, that's a surprise. "You wanna steal the car?"

"Yeah, I got this fuckin' thing -- 's kinda like compulsion, innit?"

You raise your eyebrows and he looks at you, lips curling up in an amused smile that's looks an awful lot like Sugar I can't change it, now can I? and before he can come up with something witty to go along with it, you say: "Yeah fuck, alright. Let's do it."

He laughs, eyes you up and down. "Ya naughty little girl, eh."

You can feel your skin growing hot, hand brushing over his forearm, leaning in a little. His eyes gleam. "Show me what you can do, babe", and he does, wraps one arm around your hips and strolls over to the car, carefully eyeing the alley.

The windows are rolled down and he grins. "That's an easy one, love, watch it", his hand brushes over your hip and the touch has goosebumps erupting on your arms, running down down your back and you nod - fuck yes, you'll watch.

Tangerine leans against the driver side's door and reaches inside through the rolled down window. You don't know what exactly he's doing but you can see the way his muscles work underneath the blue silk, as he grabs the handle and then, suddenly lifts the door a little out of its frame. The lock bursts, and for a second your muscles tense, body anticipating alarms going off and reading to flee.

Nothing happens; no sirens erupting - just the door swinging open lazily.

Apparently; obviously this is not his first time stealing a car. The thought of him just taking what he wants does something funny to your stomach.

You peak inside. It is an old-timer, with one large seating bench in the front, instead of two seats. Tangerine is holding the door open for you.

"After you, Lady", and he fucking winks at you.

Crawling onto the seats you make sure to make a little show out of it. You can feel his gaze roaming over your body as you bend down, until you eventually sit down in the middle of the front row seat. Tangerine sits down next to you and you immediately close the distance between the two of you, pulling one leg up, knee resting firmly on the soft beige leather and pressing against his thigh. The fabric of your dress hikes up, the slit exposing your leg up up up to your groin.

The sight distracts him for second, as you throw a look over your shoulder and out of the rear window, into the night. The alley still lays silent and deserted - but for how much longer? Tangerine watches you tensing up next to him.

"Easy, love, just a minute", he huffs and pulls an envelope out of his pocket, takes out a set of lockpicks.

"Oh, so you just carry that around with you?", you blurt out, blinking.

"Yeah", he says casually, bends down a little, trying to get a good look beneath the steering wheel.

If you were to be more of a thief and less of a drug lord's lazy daughter, you'd be able to identify his choice as a Lishi lockpick.

You watch him as he carefully sticks it into the keyhole of the ignition, slooowly starts to move the tool forward and feeling for the contact of the wafer. Quiet clicking sounds fill the humid air.

You can tell, that Tangerine is showing off a little, trying to impress you with speed and precision. He squints his eyes a little, brows furrowing and eyeing the small lock while carefully turning it clockwise.

It jams.

"Bastard", Tangerine curses underneath, pulls the reader of the lockpick back and carefully feels for the missing contact, tuuurns it --

The engine jolts alive, purrs lowly and the headlights snap on.

"There ya go", he mutters, "Piece 'o piss, eh?"

You snort at his vulgar cockney but you must agree - it did not take him more than two to three minutes, from breaking the lock to starting the engine. It shouldn't, but it does turn you on a little.

Tangerine is slamming the door shut and whips out his phone, handing it over to you. "Type in the address, love, would ya?"

You do and then quickly discard it into the cupholder - you want him and your fingertips tingle with it, wanting to touch him and being touched by him. The female voice - uncanny valley personified - of the google maps assistant pipes up and if you weren't so very fucking intoxicated by him you would laugh.

Instead, a fresh wave of desperate lust takes over you and your hands are onto him again in no time, one crawling up his arm, the other resting on his thigh and feeling his muscles work as he backs the Cadillac up. Tangerine chuckles, throws you a quick look before he is steering the car out of the alley.

You are aching for him to touch you, to be closer to you, hand tugging at his shirt a little while you lean in, nose brushing over the side of his throat.

"Jesus, love", he huffs, "Can't keep ya'self together, can ya?"

And you mewl, shake your head and then your lips are closing in around the exposed crook of his neck. Your tongue laps over the sweaty, hot skin, tasting him - his cologne mixing bitterly with his sweat and you hum, gently sucking at his soft skin.

"Fuckin' hell", Tangerine's right hand abandons the steering wheel, coming to a rest on your exposed thigh brushing over your skin. The tone of his voice has your head swimming, spurring you on, encouraging you. Your eyelids flutter as your tongue comes loose:

"Want me to suck your cock while driving?", you say, looking at him - the tips of your fingers are playfully brushing over his shoulder, silk of his shirt rustling under the feather-light touch.

He snorts, shakes his head a little with disbelief, before looking back at you. It seems to click.

"Bloody hell, you're serious, aren't ya?", and you blush a little. You can see the way his Adam’s apple bops as he swallows, eyes aimlessly darting over the road, considering.

The google maps assistant pipes up again, chirps out the directions and then falls silent again.

"Yeah, no, that's a very lovely idea", he rasps, and then: "C'mon love, get to it."

And you do, mouth watering at the same time your sight drops down to his linen slacks, the fabric wrapping around his muscular thighs nicely and pressing firmly to his crotch, exposing the outlines of his hard dick straining it.

Your hand wanders up his leg - feeling his muscles twitch as he hammers down the gas pedal, racing by the light switching from yellow to green - and then sour fingers close in around his cock. It is large and hot through the fabric and just feeling it has fresh arousal pooling between your legs, making you hum, before rubbing his bulge through his trousers. Tangerine's right hand leaves your thigh and comes to a rest on your neck, thumb rubbing over your warm skin and making way for you, giving you some space and encouraging you further.

It's a nice, somewhat patronizing touch that is pushing all the right buttons, has you quivering with excitement.

You make quick work of his slacks, pulling the zipper down - already bowing down a little, stretching your lower leg out on the seat behind you - until you open the fly up. There's a damp stain on his dark silk boxers and your mouth fucking waters, before you pull the hem down. His cock springs free lazily and your breath hitches.

Tangerine's cock is large, cut and a little curved, resting between neatly trimmed pubic hair - vein at the bottom pulsing and the tip already flushed, precum glistening in the low light of the passing street lamps.

You can't wait to suck it, taste it, feel it inside of you -- you are fucking hungry for it, spit pooling around your tongue and heart beating in your chest. Arching your back while bowing down between his lower body and the steering wheel, you put your lips onto his dick, kissing from the base to the top, his musky scent wrapping you in, clouding your mind. You can hear him hum, a nice and deep sound, and the city rushing by through the rolled down window.

Your tongue flicks over the head of his dick, lapping at the precum, circling it. The way he tastes - salt and musk - has your head swimming a little, wetness pooling between your legs.

It makes your brain go mushy, hazy and one of your hands brushes over his thigh, desperate to being closer tohim, to make it feel good for him, caressing the warm skin beneath your touch before you blink up at him.

"Fuck, you got a nice cock", you nearly moan as your tongue betrays your brain, impatiently opening your mouth and letting him slide in a little, feeling him pressing hard and hot against your tongue.

"Shit", Tangerine laughs roughly, hand grabbing your neck as his dick twitches against your tongue, "D'ya even hear yourself speak, girl? Fuck."

You smile to yourself, a little coy, and you start to move your hand up up up his muscular thigh, palming his balls through the linen and then grabbing the base of his cock, slowly jerking him. Tangerine groans, breathing loudly, the city passing by.

Spit runs down his dick over taking him in deeper, pools between your fingers and you flick your wrist, moving your hand in rhythm with your tongue.

The car comes to a halt at the next red light, as Tangerine hits the brakes carefully. Your eyelids flutter and then your gaze darts up, meets his while you are releasing his dick from your mouth a little.

Tangerine moans deeply as tongue swirling around the thick head of his dick once more, his gaze boring into yours. "Isn't that just a lovely sight", he groans, right hand brushing through your hair, while the left grabs the steering wheel hard.

Tangerine watches you, traffic light long forgotten, how your tongue licks over his cock, your eyes looking up at him through your lashes. "You fuckin' minx -- ya do like behavin' like a slut, don't ya", and you smile against his cock, a quiet Uh-huh leaving your lips, before they close in around the tip of his dick.

His eyelids flutter as you start to suck, bobbing your head a little, tongue rubbing over the tip of his cock. "Fuckin' hell", he puffs his cheeks and throws his head back a little, exhales theatrically. The traffic light switches from yellow to green and you let him sink deeper into your mouth - the engine roars. You are certain he's close to breaking the speed limit, veins bursting with adrenaline and testosterone but you couldn't care less, the musky taste of his cock hazing your mind, lust taking over.

You feel yourself growing wet, cunt aching and you surrender to yourself, complying to your body's wishes, as one of your hands slooowly dips between your legs and underneath the hem of your dress. Your fingers brush up your thighs and over your slick folds, mentally thanking yourself for not putting any underwear on, mostly due to the unbearable heat and your skin-tight dress - but it sure does come in handy now, too. Your index finger flicks over your clit, just as his cock slides deeper into your mouth.

It feels fucking nice, the way Tangerine's dick is hard and heavy and hot on your tongue, his taste and scent engulfing you, the way you rub your clit has lust spreading through your body, moaning around his cock.

And then suddenly, Tangerine hits the breaks, hand hammering down on the horn. One of your hands darts out, barely catching onto the dashboard as you are thrown forward. Blood rushes in your ears, hastily sucking in a few breaths through your nose while you sputter around his cock.

The maps assistant chimes up in that second, reminding the driver that he will need to go right at the next intersection but --

"Ya fuckin' prick, imma fuckin' shoot ya in the fuckin' head ya stupid twat -", Tangerine yells and your head immediately pipes up, abandoning his dick and looking out of the windshield. Tangerine is just speeding up, passing by the car in front of him, angrily looking inside. "Ya dirty fuckin' chav, I got a right fuckin' lady with me 'ere, ya git", he spits and the man slowly turns his head. First, he looks at Tangerine, a cascade of insults flying his way and then he looks at you, smudged mascara and spit on your chin, your lips wet with it. You can see the wheels in his head turning, eyes growing wide as they drop down to one of your hands - the one that is still holding Tangerine's cock - vanishing between his legs. The man blinks and Tangerine flashes him the finger, before speeding by.

"Fuck about -- that fuckin' arsehole, love, could've killed ya drivin' like that", he grumbles, throws him one last look in the mirror, "Seriously, where did that prick get his license, the bloody fuckin' lottery?"

Tangerine's eye twitches and you can see his pulse speeding up, aorta pressing thickly against his neck, pumping. He is like a force of nature and a mental image of him, covered in bruises, blood and sweat flashes before your eyes - chest heaving and knuckles bruised, hair curling and framing his face like a halo, dripping with blood.

"You're so fuckin' hot when you're angry", you mumble and then you're bending down again, tongue licking over his cock, from the base all the way up the top, flicking around its head and then gliiiding back down.

A growl, a real fucking growl, leaves his chest, hand on your neck tightening. "You better get fuckin' back to it, love, Jesus fuckin' Christ", his voice is coarse and it gets you going, makes you wet wet wet and has your head diving back in, tongue lolling out of your mouth as his dick slides back in.

"Atta girl, fuck", he groans and then his hips jolt up, pushing his dick deep into your mouth and you hum around it. You start to bob your head up and down, meeting his thrusts - your hand abandons the dashboard to clutch his thigh, nails digging into the flesh a little.

Tangerine moans at both, your hot and wet mouth sucking him off and the slight pain that blooms in his thigh, dangerously mixing with the anger pulsing in his chest and he throws his head back.

"Just like that, fuckin' hell love", his hips buck, shoving himself deeper into your mouth. The sudden intrusion has you choking a little as he hits the back of your throat, spit gathering around the corners of your mouth while you sputter around his dick - jaw going slack and his hand finding its way into your hair, fisting it as he starts to fuck into your mouth.

Holding your head in place his cock hits the back of your throat, steals your breath. Your nose is buried in his pubes, inhaling his scent - sweat and musk - more saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth, wetting his locks. You relax your throat and whimper around his dick, the way he uses you has fresh wetness spreading between your folds, squelching sounds filling the air as your finger is joined by a second, rubbing tight circles over your clit.

You moan around his cock, strangled noises escaping your throat while your rock back against your fingers, choking around the head of his cock hitting your throat.

"Shh, shh shh", he tuts, a little breathless, "Daddy's got ya, mh pretty girl? Lemme just--"

Tangerine's right hand lets go off your hair and then you can feel it sneak past your back, a feather-light touch brushing over the silk of your dress. It travels further and then grabs your ass, the sudden rough touch has you moaning around his dick once more. Your eyelids flutter as he pulls the fabric up up up, fists it and exposes you to whoever or whatever may rush past the passenger side's window. Your fingers speed up at the thought while his hand kneads the flesh of your cheeks.

"Fuckin' pretty", he hums, taking another quick look at the way your head bobs up and down his cock, "All over my cock like that, pretty fuckin' slut."

His hand wanders further down and before you can process it, one of his fingers circles your hole, feeling your slick and your plump folds. "Jesus Christ", he nearly groans, "You just love sucking cock, don't ya?"

That you do, whining around his base as the thick head of his dick hits the back of your throat again, with your fingers still working your clit. "Let me help you with that, love", and with that he pushes one finger in, up to his golden onyx ring, nestles it snugly between your hot walls. They clench around him and the sensation - the lingering promise of more - has you squirming a little.

Tangerine gives you what you want, need - finger curling a little, digits brushing over your spongy hot walls, before he slooowly pulls it back out. It circles your hole once more, quickly joined by a second, before he pushes them in again, starting to fuck you fast.

You moan, feet kicking a little and eyes tearing up at the sensation, with his dick pushing further into your throat and your fingers rubbing your clit, quickly has your muscles clench and cunt squirting.

"Yeah, just right 'ere, love, huh? Gettin'ya all loose 'n wet f'me? Such a good girl, aren't ya?", obscene sounds fill the air as he fucks your slick back into you, bottoms his fingers out, rubbing over the spot that has you seeing stars.

Tangerine moans deep in his chest as his cock starts to fuck into your mouth again and you let him use your throat gladly while his fingers pump in and out of your cunt, accompanied by the way your fingers flick over your clit rapidly.

The lack of fresh oxygen has you bucking against his hand, choking and sputtering around his cock that rams deeply in your throat but your stomach still flutters with it, lust igniting your loins and limbs tingling with it.

You can feel the muscles in your abdomen clenching, heart racing in your chest. Your fucking close and he seems to notice, too, his moans barely reaching your ears through the blood pumping and engine roaring. Tangerine nestles his fingers deep deep inside of you, rubbing over your walls and the spot that has you seeing stars, eyes falling shut and moaning against his cock.

It is all too much and your chest heaves as you finally cum, muscles clenching around his fingers, hips stuttering. His dick pulls back a little, tip resting hot and heavy against your tongue and then, his movements still.

"Open up your pretty mouth, doll, lemme see", he rasps, barely keeps an eye out to the street and you comply, fucked out mind making everything a little hazy, a little slow. Your jaw goes slack as you open your mouth, giving him a perfect view of his dick resting on your tongue.

Tangerine looks at you: mascara pooling beneath your eyes, lips swollen and red and jaw wet with spit and then comes too, shoots ropes of hot cum into your mouth. He watches the way it paints your tongue white, some of it landing on your upper lip, slooowly dripping down, running over your chin.

You swallow and then your tongue darts out, licks over your lips and then darts out, licks his cock clean, too.

Slowly, with your mind still foggy and limbs a little heavy already, you get back up. Your fingers brush through his remaining cum on your chin, wiping it away and letting them slip into your mouth, licking them clean. "Jesus, love", Tangerine's voice is a little coarse, gaze darting back and forth between your mouth and the street, as he carefully pulls his fingers out of you and your body closer instead.

You yelp, pressing yourself onto him, of your knees resting between his spread legs. None of you fucking care anymore, lust tugging at your brains dangerously, daringly. His hand, fingers still wet with your juices, brushes over your waist, grabs your ass and you lean in, lick over his throat, tasting his sweat and cologne.

"Can't wait for you to fuck me", you rasp, hands brushing over his chest, his necklace jingling, down down down, hand brushing over his cock and carefully putting it away, his clothing back in place.

Tangerine huffs, google assistant chiming out a direction, indicator clicking loudly as he sets it and then his hand comes up quickly, grabs your chin hard and holds your head in place. You look at him, deer in the headlights, holding your breath and then he's pulling you close, locks his lips with yours. He can taste himself on your tongue licking into your mouth, pulls you close.

You don't know how you made it to the fucking hotel alive, with Tangerine's hands roaming over your body, lips locking occasionally while he was speeding down the streets, cutting corners and red lights.

The two of you barely make it through the lobby and into the elevator, until Tangerine is onto you once more, presses your back flat against the cold, bronze metal. "I'll fuck ya so good, love", his dick is already hard again, pressing against you through the linen of his trousers and the satin of your dress, "'S gon' be all you'll be thinkin'bout for the next weeks." In a little more than an hour you will come to realize that he is right. You will be thinking about it for weeks. But now, there are only his lips roaming over your throat, occupying your mind and letting you drift back to a hazy, lustful state, with his hands feeling up your hips, your waist.

Eventually, the elevator piiings lazily and the two of you rush out it, like you are on the run from your own lust, hand clutching his as you quickly make your way down the hall to your suite. You unlock the door and turn the dimmed lights on inside. The room's just like you left it, guns and cash on the coffee table, soft light coming from the bedroom on the left. The window there is still opened, a soft breeze rolling in through the light curtains.

Tangerine throws the door shut behind himself and immediately grabs you by your waist, pulls you onto him, hand on your back on your ass as he leans down, devours you with a kiss. His tongue pushes into your mouth while he manoeuvres you backwards through your suite. Your hands dart out, catching the doorframe of the bedroom and you grab it hard, using it as leverage as you push back against him, your crotch rubbing against his. Tangerine grins against your lips and grabs your hips hard, makes you moan into the kiss.

He breaks it, chest heaving a little. "Fuck, love, imma ruin ya." Your breath hitches at that and your hands let go of the doorframe, wrapping around his neck instead like you're on some sort of fucking autopilot. "Yeah fuck, please", you whisper.

It takes Tangerine a moment, gaze growing a little soft before the beast takes over again, a gleaming dark hue turning the blue into an endless ocean and he hoists you up, carries you over to the bed.

He is carrying you like a caveman would his bagged prey and he tears at your dress just the same, one hand shoving the straps down your shoulders. Then he's onto the zipper, sliiides it down and throws you onto the bed.

You land onto the duvet with a soft thud, tits bouncing a little and his gaze follows the movement hungrily, before he tugs at the hem of your dress, pulls it down and throws it to the ground carelessly.

Tangerine just watches, gaze hungrily moving over your naked form, slooowly starts to undress himself. His slender fingers unbutton the silky shirt, button by button in an agonizingly slow speed. You know he's deliberately taking his time with you and it works, has your body quivering with anticipation and lust, one of your own hands running up your body, cupping your tit. He lifts a brow as he watches you tweaking your nipple and the haughty disdain has your head swimming, legs falling apart. "Please", you whisper, pussy aching for his touch, "--Need you."

The silk falls open, still hugging his shoulder and Tangerine continues watching you, playing with a ring on his finger, just like he's playing with you. It's cruel but it has lust building up in your belly, shooting arousal down between your legs and making fresh wetness pool between your folds in a way that you just know, that his touch will be heavenly.

And yet, impatience taking over, you mewl and in a desperate attempt for any sort of attention - for him to just fucking touch you again - you scramble to your knees, stretching out on the mattress and pressing your body flat onto it, ass high in the air. You know that he'll see it: your wet cunt, glistening in the dim light, hole clenching desperately around nothing. You feel exposed and at his mercy alone, and the degradation and danger of being unarmed like this in the presence of a killer, has your heart racing, thighs rubbing together for any sort of fucking friction.

Tangerine bellows out a laugh, surprised and dark, can't really hide either how turned on he is, and then his hand comes down on your ass. The sound bounces off the walls and has your bods jolting forward, first a gasp and then a moan falling from your lips, hands fisting the sheets. "Ya dirty fuckin' whore", he groans, hand groping your already reddening flesh. You can hear the silk flowing down to the ground and then he is pressing his crotch against you, fine linen against your wet cunt.

It's electrifying, the rather rough material pressing against your soft skin, your slick immediately wetting the fabric as your start to roll your hips against it, rutting over his clothed dick. Tangerine's cock is so so hard, hotly pulsing through the linen and you can feel its curve pressing against your pussy. You whimper, hips stuttering.

"Jesus Christ, love, can feel ya through my fucking pants -- lemme see", Tangerine groans and then grabs your hips hard, stalling your desperate movement, shoving them forward a little. You can feel his gaze dancing over your cunt, hear him whistle lowly, hands spreading your ass cheeks, assessing your slick. One of them comes loose and then --

He gives your cunt a light slap - the slight pain and degradation making your head swim - has you squirming on the mattress, a whiny Daddy, please escaping your lips. Your mind fogs up, all hazy with lust and his perfume, aching your back for him, pressing your chest flat against the sheets.

Tangerine pouts at you, eyes gleaming playfully. "D'you wan'it that bad, love?", and you nod nod nod, wiggling your hips as you chant - a desperate Yes yes yes escaping your lips, muffled by the mattress - hands uselessly darting out for any leverage.

His middle finger runs through your folds and you tremble, goosebumps erupting on your arms, spreading all over your body. He spreads your slick and his other hand comes up, kneads the flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks further apart. "Always fuckin' wet f'me, innit? Picture perfect cunt ya got, love."

You mewl, throwing a glance over your shoulder to see him watching your hole clench around nothing. His eyes gleam. "Shit", you huff out as his finger brushes over your clit, feet curling a little and he grins smugly - Bastard - and gives your ass another sharp slap. You groan and then his hands are off you, making work of his trousers.

You watch him get fully undressed and your mouth waters at the sight. Tangerine's body is covered in scars, smaller round ones from bullets and larger, longer ones from knives and nasty fist fights and you want to crawl to him on your knees, kiss and lick them, worship them and him - his body, his tool of death - like he's your very personal reincarnation of Ares.

His dick springs free as he drops his boxers, completely exposing his muscular body to you, dusted on body hair and tattoos and scars scars scars and in the moment, that you can see precum glistening on the tip of his cock, you realize that you had already missed it. You fucking missed his dick. The thought has warmth spreading on your cheeks.

There's a light pat on your hip. "C'mon love, turn around. Wanna see your face while I fuck you nice and proper", he hums and your eyelids flutter, humming deeply in your throat at the proposition, turning around and laying on your back.

The mattress dips as he sinks down on his knees, chest flushed a little - the golden necklace dangling between your bodies - and then he's onto you, crawls over your body like an animal, leaves sloppy kisses on your skin, tongue licking over your nipples, stache tickling.

"Oh fuck", you huff, hands darting out and finding his hair, gently tugging at it. Tangerine's lips move over your throat and he sucks, makingyou gasp, throwing your head back as he marks you up.

"Spread ya legs f'me, sweetie", he rasps against your jaw and you do, knees falling apart. He grabs his dick with one hand, the other one supporting his own weight next to your head, rubs himself along your folds, using your slick as lube. "There ya fuckin' go", he huffs and then the thick head of his cock presses against your hole.

"Fuck, yes", you whimper, hot with anticipation, one hand leaving his hair and clutching around his shoulder. And then, he finally - fucking finally - puuushes in, your hole stretching around his girth a little, dull pain spreading excitement across your body.

Tangerine groans. It's a low and honest sound, has his chest vibrating against yours while he looks down to where your bodies meet. "Shit, fuckin' hell", he says, hand abandoning his dick as he slowly slides into you, fills you up and spreads your walls, grabbing your inner thigh instead. The way he spreads your legs is delicious and you hum, his dick is completely seated inside of you.

He lifts his gaze once more, looks at you. His eyes are dark, a stormy stormy sea, a few loose strands falling into his face, curls of his hair freeing themselves from the hair gel. He looks like a fucking god. "Fuck", you say, lowly, hole fluttering around him, stomach tingling at the sight.

"Ya cunt's so fuckin' tight, love", he growls and you can hear, feel it on your skin, that he is having a hard time holding back, "'S perfect, Jesus Christ."

Tangerine rolls his hips, once, twice and you moan, fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulder. "'S good for ya, too, love?", his nose brushes over yours, lips ghosting over your cheek. "Yeah, fuck", you huff, and then he's onto you, licks over your lips with his tongue and shoves it into your mouth, invites himself in. You lick over it, lips locking with his, stealing the air from both of your lungs. It is a sloppy kiss charged with energy and lust, your hands tugging at his curls, making the thrusts of his dick more feral, as he forces himself in deeper, groaning into your mouth. In return you moan, chest heaving against his, tits rubbing over the muscular skin.

His lips brush over the corner of your mouth, breathes against it, stache tingling a little as they move down to your throat, kissing and nibbling at the skin, marking you up.

"Fuck", you gasp at the stinging sensation, pulling his hair and he groans.

It feels nice; the way he is fucking you - you push away the thought that it's dangerously close to actually making love - the way he feels inside of you, how his body feels against yours, but it's also not enough. You need more.

A whine escapes your mouth, all desperate and needy and breathless and his movements still for a second.

Then, Tangerine looks up at you, dark blue eyes meeting yours. "Tell me what you want", he whispers, hand groping your thigh and dick buried deep deep inside of you. You can feel it twitch inside of you and your breath hitches. "Want -- want you to fuck me", you say quietly, "Like - hard."

"Aint' ya just a fuckin' dream, poppet", he growls and then his lips are unto you once more, licking into your mouth, teeth catching your lower lip; licking and kissing your lips until their sore while picking up a faster rhythm, pounding into you.

Tangerine eventually breaks away from you, leaves you panting and straightens up until he's kneeling between your legs - rolls his hips into you with his dick fucking in and out your hole, accompanied by an obscene squelching sound. One of his hands grabs your thigh hard, rings digging into the flesh, and then he's hoisting it up, resting your ankle on his shoulder and you moan at both: how deep his cock now pushes into you and the way Tangerine looks.

A thin layer of sweat covers his cheeks and his upper body, chest and cheeks flushed, a few strands of hair falling into his face as his brows are furrowed, lips slightly parted. You can hear him breathe heavily, occasionally moaning when your walls clench around his cock, squeezing him. He looks like a fucking porn star, with his defined muscles working beneath the skin and the golden jewellery, a soft summer breeze rolling in through the opened window, toying with his hair. Tangerine's gaze is glued to his dick that rhythmically pumps in and out of you, watches the way your juices squelch around the base of his cock, balls slapping against your wet skin.

His free hand runs up your belly and cups one of your tits, squeezes it, rolls the nipple between his fingers - the bracelet around his wrist jingles and the rings are cold against your skin. You hum deeply, breath ragged and fingers clawing at the sheets desperate for any leverage, while his deep thrusts throw you back and forth like a fucking ragdoll, tits bouncing and gasps falling from your lips.

Your mouth falls agape, watching Tangerine through hooded eyes and dark lashes and his gaze crawls up up up your body until it meets yours. It is accompanied by his hand, ditching your tit, and brushing up your neck, cupping your jaw and then falling in the crook beneath it, pressing down. The sudden lack of air has the muscles in your legs tensing and he feels it, too, mischief illuminating his face, his eyes, as you gasp for air. You know he could kill you then and there, watch you as your lights fade out and as fucked up as it is, it has your rutting your hips against him, spurring him on.

Tangerine furrows his brows and picks up a quicker rhythm, hand closing in tighter around your throat, rings pressing down onto your windpipe, and you lay your head back, feeling the stretch as he's choking you. The lack of fresh oxygen has your chest heaving, body surrendering to him and the way his cock pumps into your hole fast and deep, lust igniting your nerves. Tangerine can feel you clenching around his dick, wetting his trimmed pubic hair as you squirt, slick dripping down his balls and staining the sheets below. The beast inside him roars, thrums against the bars of its cage, his ribs and he sees your eyelids fluttering, cheeks prettily reddened.

"Atta girl", he groans, fingers giving in a little and you suck in a few deep breaths, before he presses them back down again. It's too soon and your hands dart up, clutching in around his wrist, bracelet jostling and clinking under your touch.

The cage breaks.

Suddenly, quickly, with the force and speed of a predatory animal, Tangerine lets go off your throat and flicks his wrist, catches both of yours in an iron grip and pins them above your head, down onto the mattress. His body follows the stretch of yours, bending over you, holding his own weight up with a hand that crashes down next to your chest. He is feral and it should scare you, especially as air floods your system again, lifts your mind out of your foggy state just a little, but it just doesn't no fight or flight kicking in. The way Tangerine hovers over you now has your leg on his shoulder bend, too, allowing his dick to fuck into you deeper, delicate pain from the stretch of your back igniting your loins.

Ragged breaths escape his throat while he pounds, ruts into you and you lose yourself in both, the sound of his utter pleasure and the way your body feels: on fire, chest tight with your approaching orgasm and raw lust, pure want, that chews up the ends of your nerves, has your limbs tingling.

Tangerine's hand keeps your wrists in that iron grip of his as he rolls his hips into you, dick hitting your cervix, his fingers digging into the flesh of your wrists. You throw your head back, gasping with each of his thrusts and his eyes follow your movement hungrily, groans as your eyes roll back. There's a strong pull in your abdomen and your hole flutters around his cock, his balls slap against your wet skin.

"Fuck fuck fuck", you whine, high pitched moans falling from your hips as he ruts into you, "I'm gonna cum, oh shit --"

Tangerine's eyes fall shut, a throaty moan erupting deep from his chest when your muscles tighten around him. "Yeah, shit love -- that's it, fuckin' cum f'me", he rasps, forehead coming down to a rest on your shoulder.

And you do after a few more of his deep thrusts, whining and legs kicking a little, shakes erupting in your chest as you press against him. Everything goes white as you ride your orgasm out on his dick, moaning and gasping as he does, too, shoots thick and hot ropes of cum into you, painting your walls and pulsing deep inside of you.

Tangerine moans, coarse and raw and his chest heaves, presses his nose into the crook of your neck - but you barely notice it, too far gone, mouth agape and legs shaking.

It takes you a while to come down again, eyelids fluttering open lazily. There's a hand on your cheek, a deep hum near your ear. "Welcome back, love", Tangerine says quietly and then, "Ya did so good for me, eh?" You mewl, stretching your legs a little. Your whole body feels sore, his cum leaking out of you and into the sheets. All you want to so is to get up and clean yourself up, but your legs are so so heavy and you just feel so so tired. Tangerine seems to notice, too.

"You stay here, darlin', imma get you something to clean you up", Tangerine says, voice coarse but soft and he gets up, just as a fresh breeze rolls in through the curtains, blows them up and sends them flying a little. The forecast prognosed heavy rainfall for next week. The air already smells like it a little - damp and mushy.

The breeze cools your sweaty skin, has you sighing with content while you watch Tangerine's naked form as he is walking to your bathroom, muscles in his legs and butt working nicely with each step.

***

It has been over a week and this is his third night. It starts to feel like a fucking stake out.

He feels incredibly silly. Silly for coming here again. Silly for lying to Lemon - again. Silly for ordering two Margaritas. Silly for drinking both.

Tangerine leans against the bar, elbows planted firmly on the sticky wood, smoking a cigarette. The band, same musicians, play a soft and melancholic tango. The air had cooled down a little after yesterday’s rain and maybe, just maybe, that'll be the summer's first soft goodbye before it will go down in a last great huzzah with a hot Indian summer before autumn takes over the city.

He wonders if he will still be in Amsterdam by then, if he and Lemon will watch the leaves fall. There is an offer for a job in Japan and he is considering to take it. He'll have to talk to Lemon about it.

"Anything else for you, Sir?", the bartender asks. And Tangerine nods, orders another Margarita. The bartender takes the empty glasses away and he stares at the wood. Oh, he's just so bloody fucking silly, isn't he?

He takes another drag from his cigarette, shifts his weight from one foot to another and rubs his eyes. She won't come. He knows.

She just won't. Tangerine did have a suspicion who she was, has heard stories about her father and he knew, as soon as he had laid eyes on her, that he was in big, big trouble. He wonders if he had already taken her away, wanting better for his daughter than a no-good ordinary killer. Did not want the danger in his life that came with a man, who potentially could be holding his daughter for ransom at some point or worse, could get her killed.

He gets it, though. He would probably do just the same.

"There you go, Sir", the bartender says and Tangerine just nods, suddenly feels very very exhausted and just barely notices that something, someone is moving next to him.

"Can you still afford to buy me one, too?", a familiar voice says, "Or did you burn it all on car insurance?" He chuckles, feels a sudden burst of energy surging through his veins, straightens back up and slowly turns around to her.

"Wasn't my fault, 'prick was driving like a fuckin' loony."

She chuckles and the noise makes his head swim, a strange fluttering feeling in his stomach. He wants to tear his chest open and claw at it, rip it out. That is how much it fucking scares him. How much she scares him.

"Wasn't sure if you were coming back", she says, casually, calmly like she thought about it so much she's just used to it by now.

"I'm not leavin' that soon, love", he says, signals the bartender that another Margarita is in order.

"Where you going?"

"Tokyo, love. Probably -- most likely."

"Come back in one piece then", her smile is genuine. And he knows, that he just has to now.

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine smut #tangerine x y/n #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x you #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine imagine #my writing #smut #bullet train #bullet train 2022 #aaron taylor johnson

[mxplesyrvp]

SAY YOU WON'T LET GO — feat. cyno

synopsis. When you're so in love with him that it's all you could ever think about without considering that he loves you back a thousandfold.

includes. cyno being the sweetest companion to a lovebird such as yourself <3 || first person pov.

cw. none ! || wc. 600+ || note. writing after what feels like a hundred years all because cyno is living inside my brain and I need to share my thoughts. Very self-indulgent. Enjoy!

The wind whistled tales of lamentation across the desolate landscapes of Sumeru, dancing with the grains of sand in the air. The heat had established its reign, stealing every living being's breath, leaving them parched enough to see stars in their wake. Amid that deep dejection, appeared a wisp of woven dreams and glittering stardust— an oasis. It was almost as if the winds had sung the wishes of the living to the Gods; and they had granted it.

You had your back pressed to the bark of a young palm tree which formed a part of the vegetation that thrived due to the kindness of the oasis, watching the once general mahamatra having the time of his life while he kept himself afloat on the surface of the crystal clear water.

"Aren't you going to take a dip, cub?" Cyno raised his eyebrows at you, swimming to the edge of the pool.

"Hmm?" You snapped out of your reverie, processing what he asked, "Um, I don't feel like it. Why don't you go on ahead and enjoy?"

He placed both his arms on the sandy surface of the raised edge which kept in the water of the oasis and rested his chin over them. With his cape gone, his mane of silver hair celebrated its freedom framing his face, dripping crystals of water due to its wetness. He tilted his head a little and gave you a small smile, his eyes catching a sort of glimmer that made your breath hitch. Gaze as sharp as thorns yet complete with the gentleness of rose petals, blooming in that exquisite colour of blood; it hit you how weak he made you. You never wished him to realize how much you wanted to make him the air you breathed, the tears you blinked and the home you lived in. You'd never let him know how much you were prepared to lose for him. Not even when you stroked his hair while he slept or in your dreams, you'd never tell him.

A stray tear trickled down the slope of your cheek as you folded in on yourself, realizing how far you'd fallen into this chasm of love. You quickly swiped your thumb over your face, wishing Cyno hadn't seen the drop of tear glistening on your cheek.

"Why do you appear so nervous all of a sudden?" he posed, "Don't tell me you're afraid of the water."

Glad that he hadn't got a whiff of what actually had you so shaken up, you snapped your fingers to cover your embarrassment with a little bit of coolness as you said, "Bingo. I honestly can't swim."

You watched him throw his head back as he chuckled, shoulders dancing to the rhythm of reverberations of his carefree laughter. You didn't mind him laughing at your silly revelation, you loved it when his lips parted like that in mirth, how the corners of his eyes crinkled with his eyes squeezed such as if there was not a care in the world. You loved it when he let his guard down around you like that, as if he wanted you to know in secret how much he trusted you. It made you want to crumble to dust and be part of the sand below you. It was too much, you felt like your heart would burst with this sweetness.

"That's it?" he sighed from all that laughter, "You really think you'd drown when I'm here?"

"I believed it best to not make a fool of myself," I said casually, "But since you insist..."

You rose from your sitting position with closed eyes and threw yourself into the water. The cold hit you hard, jamming your lungs, but you wanted Cyno to know that you trusted him like he did you. Soon enough, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and you were pulled out to the surface.

Gasping for breath, you held onto Cyno with everything you had. When you finally blinked the water out of your eyes, you found his ruby eyes fixated on you, searching for any kind of fear he could help disperse. He held onto you like any man would his heart, tender as a feather yet strong as iron.

He closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to your forehead, whispering against your skin," I'd never let go of you, cub."

Words would never be able to describe the flutter of butterflies breaking free from your heart's cage as you let yourself fall into him further with a nervous kiss you could no longer contain.

With your lips on his and his on yours, both of you had forged the unspoken seal of love.

© mxplesyrvp, since 2022, all rights reserved. Do not copy, repost, modify or translate without permission. Likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!

#𖤐 : kyo writes ! #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #cyno x reader #cyno imagines #cyno x y/n #genshin cyno x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin cyno #cyno genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin imagines #cyno x you

[fallouttboy]

to me, fall out boy has become, and maybe always has been, a love letter to your past selves. love is messy. love is hard. love feels an awful lot like a tsunami and sometimes it’s overwhelming in a bad way, but if the love is there and real, it’s also overwhelming in good ways. awash in the warmth and comfort of a good love yet knowing through experience that in order to feel that warmth, you have to be a little bit cold sometimes. it’s okay. because you know that if your love is truly capital l love, it’ll be warm again, and it’ll come back. that’s fall out boy.

their lyrics are blunt sometimes, cutting to the core on the first slice. the powerhouses of patrick and pete writing in counterpart collaboration: pete brings the words to patrick’s music. patrick knows how to say what pete writes, without words, perfectly. pete could write lyrics for others and patrick could compose for others but together is where their art is most compatible. the swoops of strings in stardust (the record) with pete’s mood swinging, too-deep truth wrapped up pretty in sarcasm and irony lyricism, the brutal honesty of i think ive been going through it, and ive been putting your name to it or love is in the air, i just gotta figure out a window to break out or talking to the mirror, save your breath, half your life you’ve been hooked on death- there is no other way for things to sound as right as they do. composer (patrick)//never composed (pete).

the emotions were palpable through a stream, i cannot imagine how it felt to be there. the band seemed so high in their emotions: the setlist changes, the riffing, the speeches. tonight was about living to see the life you’ve created. living to see the life you’ve been told you’d never have. patrick’s speech about how he deals/dealt with hardcore imposter syndrome, never thinking he’d do much and not thinking he’d ever get anywhere. looking back and calling himself a “fat little eight year old”. i felt the breath hitch of all of the people of the Garden who know exactly what it’s like to be the fat little eight year old, who know exactly what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong and never will. but patrick said it: you belong. he belongs. our fat, eight year old selves belong. and maybe he meant it as a simple statement with no meaning behind it, like saying a baby’s cheeks are fat, but to me it didn’t feel that way. it felt genuine, from the voice of a man who is, at forty years old, finally comfortable in his skin and body. it felt like a love letter to us, the people who are mostly okay now but still have that voice that reminds them that they’re not as small as the others, never have been, not really. and he dedicated the theme for spidey and his amazing friends, a song he composed for disney (!), to that little eight year old. the eight year old who loved spider-man. the eight year old who could never have ever imagined working with/for a licensed spider-man creation, or playing madison square garden, or being where patrick is. he did that for his past self. he did that to say look. you belong. you made it. we made it.

and xo replacing sixteen candles. to the love. to the fucking love. it’s all for love, everything this band does-every word, every note-love never wanted me but i took it anyway. this, paired with pete’s speech that talks about how it’s important to create art, no matter the weirdness, it just shows how much we and the band mean to them. patrick’s reminder of the band hanging all of their rejection letters from record labels on the wall of their apartment back in the beginning of the band, compared to now, sold out at madison square garden; to the love. to the love. to the love.

to bring in get busy living as one of the 8 ball songs is absolutely insane for tonight’s set. not only for the sheer chaos of it, but for the, well, everything, about the lyrics. to me, it’s a queer song. it’s a trans pov song. you like boys like me better, in the dark laying on top of you. not in the light. not where i can be seen. boys like me, the kind of boy who was born with a girl’s body and socialized as a girl, the kind of boy who doesn’t have any childhood photos as a boy, the kind of boy who hopes and prays to who or what ever that one day he will be boy “enough” for you. boys like me, you like “boys” like me. in the dark, without lights, blackout curtains drawn. you can pretend it’s not a dampness you feel against you but a solidity, you can pretend it isn’t too cool and too slick to be real sliding up into and against you. you can pretend it’s not me, then, better in the dark. you don’t see me.

put into context of tonight’s feelings it’s…a lot, to say the least. pete probably didn’t write it with gender fluidity in mind, it was likely a drag on his “bad boy” persona and being more comfortable fucking him when they can’t see who he is, characteristically, rather than through a gendered eye. either reading is tragic though; either scenario involves a party who cannot be seen in an extremely intimate encounter, and the other cannot bear to see them for whatever reason (pain? shame? i’ve always read it as shame of sleeping with someone the same sex as you, and then also someone who is trans, but hey, i’m queer and i could be wrong).

the idea of only being loved for with the lights are off and therefore could be anyone the other person wanted in comparison to the love that was so clearly and fully expressed at tonight’s show is kind of overwhelming in juxtaposition. love that is conditional (lights off) vs unconditional (be weird, create weird shit). love that you don’t know what to do with (through the keyhole i watched you dress//never feeling like you belong). patrick playing his big scoring composition entirely alone, on acoustic, in front of a sold out madison square garden. the whole band playing a sold out madison square garden. there’s that interview from a few days ago where patrick talks about bruce springsteen asking him to take a photo of his (springsteen’s) kids at msg, how patrick was starstruck, and how it taught him “take it (playing madison square garden) seriously, but don’t take yourself too seriously”, and i can’t help but think about it in context with tonight. take it seriously (the love, the venue, the fans) but don’t take yourself too seriously (playing a spider-man theme song).

fall out boy is about love. it’s for lovers. it’s for those who want to be loved. it’s scar crossed lovers, forever.

#mine #w #fob #fall out boy #2ourdust nyc

[pearlypairings]

annual writing self-evaluation

Thank you @justhere4thevibez for tagging! I woke up so early bc I'm still not adjusted well to the time difference on my vacation so I figure I could work on this to kill some time💕

1. List of works published this year (in no particular order):

Meet Me At Our Spot

Coffee and Contemplation *

Dear Donna,

painting (a masterpiece)

not a sound, but the wind

In the Shade of Aurelias *

all good dates begin at the cemetery

so much (for) stardust

there is a light that never goes out *

* = WIP

(I have a few more anon works too which were fun to try some new things with😄)

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

OH this is tough… I think I have to choose two. I'm so proud of not a sound, but the wind for many reasons. I tried a lot of new writing techniques within that story, which honestly the first images came to me at 2am fever dream of Chrissy with short hair and distraught pushing her way through the woods in a blizzard. I didn't know where the story was going but once I got started I had so much fun. And right now I'm also very proud of there is a light! It's my rarepair fic that I've fallen in love with for chrissy x jonathan and it's been a true delight to meet other people in the fandom from that fic alone!

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Hmm I think painting (a masterpiece) is one that I would probably revisit to edit and change if given the option. I don't think it's terrible by any means, but it was really a self indulgent fic for me inspired by the song of the same name. I think I published it very quickly without letting it simmer for edits, so I would change some of the beats for pacing.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

From not a sound, but the wind

“Do you comfort all your crying customers?” She let her fingers graze his palm as she accepted his makeshift tissue with a sad smile.

“Only the ones I like.”

Chrissy dabbed her eyes, praying that none of the mascara smeared beyond recognition. “You’re not gonna sell me anything, are you?”

“Who said that? If there’s any time you need pot, it’s now!”

A small laugh shook her fragile frame, warmth spreading across her chest from within. She folded the bandana into a small square and tucked it into her pocket with a sheepish grin. The last of her tears iced over the corners of her eyes.

“Coming from my dealer, that sounds a little like a sales pitch.”

Eddie fell back, miming an arrow through his heart and rigorously pulling the invisible weapon out from his chest. “You wound me. How about half off and twice as much?”

5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

ALL of my comments on there is a light are my favorites. People really enjoying my take on jonathan (a character that even I slept on and didn't really connect with until I saw things from his pov) and being really supportive of my WIP that's ending soon! It's really been such a joy to read all the lines each reader loved and the plot twists they had guessed right or wrong. It's been the best!

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

2023 was a……year. Yeah, I think the fall was very hard because of some family hospitalizations that were very scary and exhausting. So I didn't have the energy nor the will for quite a bit after that to write much. I'm hoping 2024 is all for good health and better headspace.

7. A scene or character that you wrote that surprised you:

At the risk of sounding really cheesy, I really loved the scene in not a sound when Chrissy and Eddie are about to kiss. The two chapters with back to back pov were so much fun to write bc we get little glimpses into both perspectives of the situation and how wrong they interpret the other person's reactions. It's so cute and I didn't intend to write an eddie pov chapter when I started that fic, it just happened (and we got more Wayne which is always a plus).

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I have a long way to go with this, but I think I'm finally shedding parts of my past where for work I had to write scientifically and directly. It's so hard for me to break that frame of mind, so I'm constantly going back in edits to add in more details and worldbuilding and mood setting beyond action and dialogue. In 2024, one of my goals is to do enough exercises where that flows more naturally in the drafting process.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

LOL oops! I sort of just answered that question, but another goal of mine is to continue to finish my beloved WIP Aurelias AND write a ton more for rarepairs to stretch my imagination.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Losty, @1lostsoul0fishbowl you are all of the above. So glad we found each other on this site and via Dear Donna,. It's been lovely getting to know you and I appreciate all the times you've read through drafts and ideas and insanity on my part. You da bomb diggitty 💣

11. Anything in your real life show up in your writing this year:

Definitely…. The break up in there is a light is loosely based on a real break up between me and my first high school boyfriend. The AUDACITY. But definitely many, many other little bits of dialogue or scene set ups are from moments in my life :) the life of a writer.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Write it down. WHEREVER you are (unless driving lol). Whatever the idea is, the dialogue you thought of, the plot puzzle piece. Just write it down somewhere on your phone, in a notebook etc. Because you will forget it and it will frustrate you lol.

13. Any new projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

2024 is when I'll be finishing Aurelias! Slow and steady because it's my baby and very setting/period heavy. And there's a few tricks up my sleeves for future fun projects that I'll be writing mostly for me (and maybe losty lol). AND I CAN'T WAIT! Rarepairs galore ✨

What a fabulous evaluation and deep look at the past year! Can't wait to see what 2024 brings 💞 happy new year!

#thanks for tagging me! #writer evaluation game #tag game #self evaluation #2023 fanfiction summary #hellcheer fanfic #photocheer #fanfic writer #thank you everyone for watching me grow this year! #it's been a blast💕

[kaibutsushidousha]

Opinion on each Jojo part ?

Phantom Blood can definitely feel underwhelming compared to other parts but being the first makes it highly elevated by the novelty of Jojo's aesthetics, and most importantly, Jonathan's and Dio's relationship is a dramatic peak Araki rarely ever reached again.

Battle Tendency has Joseph Joestar as the protagonist, which automatically makes it a blast to read through. I also like the way its line-up of enemies is presented and built up in advance. I understand it's not Araki's style but I prefer that a lot compared to Jojo's usual monster of the week deal.

Stardust Crusader is the big adventure of a crew of boring characters commanding boring Stands, so its quality needs to be hard carried by the quality of each fight's villain, which fluctuates very wildly.

Diamond is one of those urban fantasy settings that manages to make you fall in love with the city. Morioh feels really alive and I wouldn't mind its SoL antics going on for a lot longer. Especially since here is where Stands really start to get consistently good. That said, the final plot is also excellent, with the PoV rotating between Josuke, Rohan, Hayato, and Kira, which are all excellent characters.

Vento Aureo has the best overall cast and it's where the Stands reach the sweetest of being very creative without feeling bloated like the future part stands. But what defines a plot the most is the quality of its conclusion and Vento Aureo's conclusion is about as lame as it can get.

Stone Ocean is entirely shaped by the Pucci brothers, with Enrico being Araki's best-written character by a very wide margin and Weather not falling too far below him on the rankings.

Steel Ball Run clashes the most compelling Jojo against the least compelling villain for a very mixed-bag experience, but overall more on the positive side. Stands are thankfully downscaled after the part 6 bloat but still fail to return to the consistency peak of parts 4 and 5.

Jojolion is a mystery, which is a genre that very much plays into Araki's writing weaknesses, mainly his inability to give a fuck once he changes his mind. It also wastes its good villains in the first half, so the second half leaves us stuck with lame-ass Tooru and his way too many friends with Stands that spread powders in the air. The only thing holding that half together is how great Wonder of U is.

The Jojolands makes a great first impression that drives it perfectly clear what the part is about. Now we only need to hope it sticks the landing, but Tayutan from Cipher Academy says it's the best part and I trust her judgment.

(Ranked: 6>4>7>2>1>5>3>8)

#jojos bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken

[shivunin]

✨ First Lines Meme ✨

Rules:  Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able to and see if there are any patterns!

Thanks for the tag @greypetrel!

This feels like sorting things to my brain, so I am feeling very !!! about this rn. (Also. I didn't figure out how to change text color on tumblr until literally just now, so that's fun c:)

Zevwen, Cullavellan, Fenhawke

AO3 First Lines:

Byways and Lay-bys (Zevran/Tabris, 1,855 Words):

The fight was quick and brutal.

Palimpsest (Fenris/Hawke, 11,038 Words)

Hate had been scrawled over Fenris’s skin long ago.

As Two Reflected Stars (Fenris/Hawke, 12,436 Words)

“Well, what do you want to do, Fenris?” Hawke asked, crouched beside him with her elbows resting on her knees. 

Katabasis (Cullen/Lavellan, 25,324 Words)

“Dying.”

Sleight of Hand (Fenris/Hawke, 7,470 Words)

In the hours before showtime, Hawke sometimes liked to come to the stage and stand just behind the curtains.

Book of Memories (Cullen/Lavellan, 62,304 Words)

Echo—a basement or dungeon, dim and close and stinking.

Pour Forth (Fenris/Hawke, 3,845 Words)

The first time she said it, Fenris had just taken a crushing blow to his leg on the Wounded Coast.

Breath of Life (Zevran/Tabris, 7,562 Words)

“When I heard that the great Zevran had gone rogue, I simply had to see it for myself.”

Winter's Grasp (Fenris/Hawke, 4,834 Words)

Winter hung heavy over Kirkwall.

Your Fate for Mine (Cullen/Lavellan, bg Fenris/Hawke, 129,681 Words)

How long had they been running through this endless dreamscape of rocks and seas and the endless, roiling green sky?

Cracking up at Katabasis haha. I decided to do a couple of my WIP ones under the cut and I'll stick the analysis there, too, for neatness. But for now:

Tagging @scribbledquillz @heniareth @zenstrike and you!! (I've just realized idk how many of my new mutuals write fic and I don't want to pressure anyone who hasn't posted unfinished stuff yet! please count yourself tagged if you want to do this!)

WIP First Lines:

Aerolite (Fenris/Hawke, 4,214 Words so far)

Hawke was not unobservant.

Stardust in her Hair (Josie/Lavellan, 1,995 Words so far)

Josie had never really been much of a teacher.

When to Walk Away (post-Act 2 Fenris/Hawke, 1694 Words)

Hawke had finished fixing her clothes and hair before she stepped out of the Rose.

These Last Strands (Fenris/Hawke, 2,992 Words)

“Hawke will come for me.”

Signifying Nothing (no pairings/ Hawke & trauma, 3,544 Words)

“What does it say?” Hawke asked.

Contrivances (Zevran/Tabris, 2,252 Words)

Something had been weighing on Arianwen’s mind for hours.

Leave With the Tide (Zevran/Tabris, 698 Words)

Arianwen didn’t understand what Zevran was saying to her at first.

Analysis:

So choosing a very concrete and short sentence to start is definitely intentional. As a reader, I like to have at least one basic detail about what's going on before I dive into a story. If I have to wade through a lot of commas and clauses to figure out what's going on, I tend to check out a little bit.

I also like to state who is the POV character close to the beginning, which is why a lot of them tend to have at least one name in them. I think it takes out some of the confusion jumping into a story (and w/third person, since anyone at all could be talking, including an unseen narrator, I like to anchor the text to one person to start if I'm not describing a big, chaotic scene).

Beyond that, I like to try to reflect the mood and/or tension in the story with the first line.

YFFM's is long and sort of dreamy because I wanted it to mirror Elowen's sense of detachment from what's happening.

The short, hard start for Katabasis is like that because Salshira finding out that she's dying is like this giant, immovable rock dropped into the stream of her life. It's not something she can get around. It's a slap in the face. I wanted to mimic that in the flow of the text.

I also like to establish contradictions and circle back around at the end of a fic, so sometimes (Josie had never really been much of a teacher) the first line is directly contradicted within the next few lines or paragraphs (Josie was…for once, she was glad to have been wrong). Idk, I just like people lying to themselves. I like making it clear to the reader that their self-perception is a lie, an obfuscation, or an act of self-deception. Or---in this case, it's a way to exhibit that anxiety does not always play out the way you feared.

I also went through and looked at the last few fics I posted on tumblr, but I chose not to add those here because most of them were from the micro-fic prompts. Unlike the other things I write, I tend to pack as much information as possible into each sentence of those prompts, so I didn't think they were as indicative of how I write. Since sentences are at a premium, they just don't wind up flowing as well as other things I've written.

#sorry if all the colors make this hard to read i got excited #hmm it's interesting to look at these laid out this way #tag game #long post #shivunin scrivening #i am getting the urge to put all of this in a spreadsheet lol #i have so many thoughts

[waywardxrhea]

Chapter 5 - Black Butterflies and Deja Vu

What happens when you lie to the Devil? How long can one woman keep a lifetime of secrets from the Devil of Hell's Kitchen? The answer may surprise you...

installment list

pairing: Matt Murdock x enhanced!fem!OC

series content: coffee shop AU, fluff, humor, friends to lovers, pining, language, canon typical violence, angst, drinking, implied smut, medical emergencies, mental health disorders (PTSD, panic disorder).

"i lose my voice when i look at you, can't make a noise though i'm trying to tell you all the right words, waiting on the right words. just another lovesick afternoon, black butterflies and deja vu. hoping for the right words, waiting for the right words." - black butterflies and deja vu, the maine

word count: 5.3k

Flirting. That's the chapter. With some angst thrown in but sweet Matty is there for our girl.

a/n: so obviously this story is written third person limited in Crystal's POV most of the time so we don't know what Matt is thinking or sensing, so I try throughout this series to write Matt's reaction to Crystal in a way that isn't almost table topping (for lack of a better word we are using D&D terms now whoops) and having Crystal almost "know" that he can tell more of what's going on. in this chapter we get our first glance of Matt's senses really coming in handy when it comes to being in tune sympathizing with Crystal, I hope y'all enjoy and look forward to the future of Matt's reactions to her because they are so fun to write!

A couple more weeks passed at the shop with business going as usual. One morning Crystal was hanging up the last of the Valentine’s day decorations around the pastry case and singing quietly to the music playing over the speakers. When the bell above the door rang signaling the door opening, she automatically greeted the person with, “Good morning, welcome to Stardust, I’ll be right with you!” As she rounded the counter to get behind the register, she saw Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson and said, “You chaps are earlier than usual, it’s nice to see you two!”

“Well we’ve got an early morning at the courthouse today,” Matt informed her with a shrug. 

“Awe, well, if you have time to wait, there’s about two minutes left on some strawberry mini tarts that are in the oven,” she said. 

“Are they shaped like hearts?” Foggy asked as he looked around at all of the decor hanging in the shop. He laughed as he added, “Just assuming because it is very pink in here.”

“Just comes with the holiday I guess,” she replied with a quiet laugh. “What can I get you two today?”

“Want your usual Fog? I can get it today, go find a table for us, yeah?” Matt asked his friend. 

“You got it, I’ll be at the third table on the right, buddy,” Foggy replied before relieving Matt of his briefcase and heading off to the table. 

Once he left, Matt turned his attention back to Crystal and said with a charming smile, “We’ll have our usuals and two of those tarts you mentioned.”

“Of course,” Crystal replied as she tapped away at the computer to get the order in.��

As she made change for the bill Matt gave her, she could hear the slight smirk in his voice as he told her, “You know, if you’re as beautiful as your singing voice is, that sign out on the sidewalk is wrong.”

Heat instantly ignited in her cheeks at the flirtatious comment and she was so grateful that he wasn’t able to see the flush on her cheeks and the shock on her face. Her hands began to tremble a bit as she handed him back his change, mumbling, “Oh, I, uh, I- You’re too kind, Matt…”

“I’m just telling it how it is,” Matt replied back, his warm touch lingering on hers for a few more seconds than usual before he felt around for the tip jar to place the change in. 

When he walked away, Crystal barely heard the timer for the tarts going off due to the roaring in her ears. She snapped out of her trance though and went to get them out of the oven just as Raeyes turned the corner coming from the office with her clipboard in hand. “You okay…?” she asked in concern, the panic was apparently clearly written all over Crystal’s face. 

“Yeah, just fine,” she replied faintly as she pulled on the oven mitts to get the pastries out. 

Even after Matt and Foggy left for the day, Crystal’s mind kept running through the scene in her head over and over again to the point where when got off she missed having her afternoon tea because of the preoccupation. When Raeyes pointed it out as they got back to the flat for the day was when she finally admitted what happened. 

“He said what?!” she shouted excitedly as they put their purses in their proper places near the door. 

“I guess Foggy read him the sign like he usually does and he told me, and I quote, ‘If you’re as beautiful as your singing voice is, that sign out on the sidewalk is wrong.’” Crystal told her, sitting down on the loveseat and throwing her head backward over the headrest exasperatedly. 

“And what did you say back?!” Raeyes asked as she joined her on the loveseat, practically bouncing with excitement. 

Crystal covered her face with her hands as she groaned in embarrassment, replying, “I said that was kind of him to say…”

“Crystal! The hottest lawyer in New York said one of the smoothest lines of all time and that’s what you said back?!”

“I didn’t know what to say! I haven’t exactly flirted with anyone in nearly four years!” Crystal retaliated, an unexpected laugh escaping her lips. 

Raeyes sat deep in thought for a few moments before saying, “Okay, well, all hope is not lost yet! This is good actually! This shows that he likes you! We can work with that!”

“Rae,” Crystal said wearily, unsure of how she wanted to navigate this developing situation. 

“Crystal! Please! Just give it a chance!” Raeyes pleaded.

“I want to, God I want to. There’s a part of me that is desperate for change but…” she trailed off for a few moments to gather her words. She took a breath before finishing with, “But there’s also a part of me that still loves Kit and it feels… almost wrong to have feelings for someone else…”

“Oh Crys…” Raeyes said quietly before leaning over to give her a brief hug. She sighed before saying, “I know part of you is always going to love him, that’s only natural. This isn’t like normal relationships where he hurt you and therefore you don’t love him anymore. He freakin’ died and that’s the worst way for something like what you had to end. But you can’t let that keep you from living your life. I know I didn’t know him, but from what you tell me about Kit, he would want you to be happy. Why deny yourself that?”

“The change is just scary is all…” Crystal admitted quietly. 

“Adulting is scary, but sometimes we just have to do things that scare us in order to know that we’re still alive. What’s life without a little risk?”

“You and your Potter references,” Crystal said, huffing out a quiet laugh as she wiped away a tear from her eye. 

“I’m full of ‘em!” Raeyes said as she got up and went to the cabinet to grab a couple glasses for water. As she filled them up, she told Crystal, “You don’t have to do it now, but just…think of ways you can do a little more than ‘that was nice’ next time Murdock flirts with you.”

“You got it,” Crystal replied, although she was still doing mental gymnastics to try and navigate the situation... 

The day of February 28th rolled around and Crystal, as she expected, was a mess. She was a mess because today was Kit’s birthday. His first one not here on Earth. She woke up that morning with a pit in her stomach and felt like a dark cloud was constantly hovering over her as she readied herself for work. As she walked through the door of the shop and greeted the other openers for the day though, she forced a smile onto her lips and tried to pretend she wasn’t breaking down inside. 

The cloud stuck around all day and a little voice in the back of her head kept nagging her to use the VPN she installed on her phone to check Kit’s social media page. Against her better judgment, she did when she sat down on one of the couches in the corner of the shop for her break. What she saw when she opened the page shook her to the core. It was a post from his mother that read:

Today we should be celebrating my son’s birthday with him, but instead we grieved at the grave where he shouldn’t be in the first place. As many of you know Kit was killed a few months ago and I will never forgive the person I believe to be responsible. You know who you are. He should be here with me eating his favorite meal but tonight my husband and I sit at the dining table alone while the food grows cold on our plates. Happy heavenly birthday son, until we meet again. 

A numbness filled Crystal’s body as she read the post and almost as if someone else was making her move, she felt herself get up off of the couch and head toward the restroom to be out of the public eye. She barely heard Karen compliment her on the lunch the shop served as she made her way there, offering back an off-handed acceptance of the comment before locking herself in the restroom.

Once she locked the door, Crystal turned her back to it and slid down to the floor, covering her mouth with her hands as a choked sob escaped her mouth. Before she could even try to ground herself, Crystal found herself in the midst of a panic attack, giving the only bit of concentration she had to keeping her sobs quiet as she cried. 

She cried because she knew that she was the reason his mother wasn’t able to celebrate with him today. She cried because of how much she missed him. But she panicked because of the implication of one line of the message: "you know who you are." To her panicking mind, this meant that it wasn’t made public that she had died at the hands of the O’Hares. That to London at large she was still alive and well, stuck at home with her father and brother presumably still grieving over the loss of her mother and boyfriend. That perhaps they knew she wasn’t actually dead. 

After a few minutes of just trying to slow down her breathing and heart rate before she went into a WPW episode, Crystal finally got herself out of the panic attack. She stood up on shaking legs and steadied herself on the sink before washing the tears from her cheeks and redoing the messy bun atop her head. 

She shook her head as she looked in the mirror once more, telling herself that her thoughts had to be wrong. There was no way her father knew she was still alive. If it wasn’t made public it was probably because it would implicate both the O’Hares and Porters in illegal activity which would be bad for both of their operations. Or maybe it was simply a lapse in judgment on Kit’s mother’s part… Whatever the reason for it, there was no way it was because they thought she was still alive… They just couldn’t.

When she finally emerged from the restroom well after her allotted break time, Crystal quickly got to work clearing off tables that needed it. When she neared the table where Karen, Matt, and Foggy sat, she flashed a quick smile before asking, “Anything else I can get you lot today?”

Karen gave her a soft smile before telling her, “We’re just about to head out, thank you though.”

“Everything was perfect today, as usual,” Matt complimented as they all began gathering their belongings. Karen and Foggy began to walk toward the door slightly ahead of Matt while he unfolded his cane at the table that Crystal began to clear off in their departure. As Matt reached for the handle of his briefcase, his fingers brushed across Crystal’s hand and he told her softly, “Take it easy and have a great rest of your shift, Crystal. Thank you again.”

The first genuine smile of the day made its way onto Crystal’s lips at his words and she couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted in her stomach in reaction. Before he could walk away, Crystal told him, “Thank you Matt. You just made my day loads better, you have no idea…”

He gave her a smile and small wave before beginning to navigate toward the door where his friends stood waiting for him. As Crystal finished out her shift, the thoughts of panic associated with Kit’s mother’s post started to fade into the background. Her mind instead flirted with the possibilities of what Matt’s actions could imply, and while guilt occasionally seeped into those thoughts, she kept what Raeyes told her in mind to try and feel better about the situation as a whole. 

One evening a few days later after an extremely long shift at Stardust, Crystal trudged into her flat with one thing on her mind: curling up in her bed and not getting up until mid-morning. She was so determined to get there that she missed the bright pink post-it note stuck to the outside of the door to her flat. She took two steps into the apartment before silently making her way out, cringing at her mistake of not seeing the post-it. 

Wishing to forget what she heard within the walls of her and Raeyes’s shared flat, she wandered into the first bar she came across, one with a sign out front saying, Josie’s. The bar was small and poorly lit with classic rock playing from the speakers and was filled with patrons from all walks of life. 

Sitting down at the far end of the bar, Crystal ordered a double shot of the house special before pulling out her phone to browse social media while she waited out her time away from the flat. She was lost in thought for a little while, sipping on her drink, when she heard a familiar voice asking, “Hey, isn’t that the barista from the coffee shop?” 

“She’s got a name you know,” Crystal heard a female voice reply before calling out for some beers from the bartender. 

Not wanting to intrude, Crystal pretended she didn’t hear the conversation while taking a drag from her glass. As she placed her near empty glass on the bar, she jumped a little when she realized that the ever-handsome Matt Murdock was standing nearby with a charming smile on his face. She couldn’t help the flutter her heart gave upon seeing that smile and his sleeves rolled up, showing off his surprisingly buff forearms. “Fancy seeing you here,” she told him once the shock wore off. 

“You know, I would say the same, but,” he said, his smile growing at the comment. Crystal bit the inside of her cheek, but stopped when Matt added, “You can laugh at that.”

And so she did, asking him with a laugh, “You think you’ve got a wicked sense of humor, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes I do,” he said, a light chuckle rumbling out of his chest. “Judging by the lack of any other comments, I’m assuming you’re here alone?” he asked curiously.

“Oh, uh, yeah, actually. I’m not really needed nor welcome in my flat right now,” she replied. 

“Problems with your roommate?” Matt asked. 

“I mean if you count an active dating life and getting shagged as a problem, then yes.”

A loud laugh escaped Matt’s lips at the statement and Crystal couldn’t help but laugh along. “You Brits and your slang for sex,” he said, this time with a quieter chuckle. There was a moment of silence before Matt offered, “Why don’t you come and hang out with me and the others? Help get your mind off of all…that.”

“Oh I wouldn’t want to intrude,” she said reluctantly. 

“I insist. If it helps I’ll even buy your next drink,” he told her before calling out to the bartender to get her another drink. 

“I appreciate that because I really don’t want to remember tonight,” she said before she drank the rest of her first cocktail down. Her eyes went wide upon realizing what she said and heat crept onto her cheeks as she instantly began stuttering out, “I didn’t mean- I meant- Not wanting to forget hanging out with you lot, I’m sure that part is going to be lovely, it’s just…”

“Walking in on your roommate having sex wasn’t on your agenda tonight?” Matt asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Not exactly,” she replied before taking a sip from the new drink Josie sat in front of her. 

“You guys better watch out for her, those are doubles, Murdock,” the bartender warned. 

“Will do, Josie, thank you,” Matt replied. He turned back to where Crystal sat on the barstool and asked, “Do you mind leading me to where Fog and the others are?”

“I don’t mind at all,” she replied as she gingerly hopped off the chair and held out her arm for Matt to grab. When his large hand grabbed hold of her bicep, Crystal couldn’t help but feel heat rising to her cheeks again, but tried to blame it on the liquor starting to take effect. 

As they walked over, Matt began telling her, “So you know Karen and Foggy, but we’ve also got Marci here with us tonight. She and Foggy are dating.”

“Got it,” she said as they approached the table. 

She placed her drink on the table before helping Matt to his chair as Foggy said cheerfully, “Well if it isn’t our favorite baker and barista! Crystal, this is my girlfriend, Marci! Marci, this is the barista we’ve told you about!” 

“Pleasure to meet you,” Crystal said with a cordial smile. 

“You too! Foggy Bear never shuts up about your scones when you make them at the shop. If you end up being around more often you’ll have to share your recipe,” Marci told her. 

“So what brings you to Josie’s? I don’t think we’ve seen you around here before,” Karen said. 

Matt, seemingly unable to help the teasing tone in his voice, told her, “Her roommate is...how’d you say it? Shagging someone?”

Crystal laughed quietly before saying, “Yep, and I’ve still got about…” she checked the time on her phone before finishing with, “An hour and a half before I can go back to the flat.”

Foggy choked on his beer before asking, “Who has sex for that long?”

“Some people like foreplay, Foggy Bear,” Marci told him with a nudge of her elbow. 

Crystal laughed at the comment before telling them, “It’s just this rule she has in place for us living together. When the other has someone over like that, you put a post-it on the door with the time written on it. The other isn’t allowed back inside for two hours after the designated time. I made the mistake of being too exhausted from my shift at the shop to notice the note…”

“Are you saying you just got off of work?” Matt asked with concern in his voice. “Haven’t you been there since this morning?”

“Oh calm down counselor, I didn’t mind it,” she told him. “We had someone call in and when there’s only a handful of people on staff and no one else can come in, we do what we have to do. As I said, I don’t mind it, it’s not like I have much of a social life anyway. It’s…hard to meet people here if I’m honest,” she told him. 

“You’re telling me,” Karen said, raising her beer bottle to Crystal. “Luckily for me Matt and Foggy came into my life when they did. They ended up taking me under their wing when I was in some trouble.” Upon prompting from Crystal, Karen recounted the story of how the three of them met and how their friendship had flourished since then. She smiled at Crystal before telling her, “So if you’re looking for a group to take you under their wing, I’m sure we can be that for you.”

The sentiment had tears pooling in the backs of her eyes, and Crystal was about to respond when Marci asked, “So what brings you to Hell’s Kitchen anyway? How does one go from London to here of all places?”

“Hey, don’t drag Hell’s Kitchen like that,” Matt defended. “Some people actually like it here.”

“Fine, fine, but even you have to admit, London’s got to be loads better than around here, Matt!” Marci said with a playful roll of her eyes. She rested her chin on her hand as she turned back to Crystal and prompted, “So…?”

“Oh, I, uh… I just needed a change. Life back home wasn’t always the best for me, so I seized the opportunity to get out of there the first chance I got,” Crystal told her vaguely. 

“Well you know what they say, that America is the land of opportunity!” Foggy told her. 

The group discussed the differences between life in the UK versus the US before Karen slyly asked, “What about the difference between the men here and there?”

Crystal canted her head to the side, furrowing her eyebrows as she said, “I don’t follow.”

“Well you know what they say, English girls like sex,” Marci said with a wiggle of her eyebrows. She smirked before prompting, “So Miss London girl…?”

“I am certainly not drunk enough to be answering those questions right now,” Crystal replied with a laugh. She not so gracefully exited her chair and turned toward the bar, but not before adding, “And by the way I don’t have a comparison.”

Karen’s jaw dropped before she asked, “You’re telling me you’ve been in America for months and you haven’t been laid?”

“I plead the fifth! That’s how that saying goes right?” she asked before laughing as she headed toward the bar for another drink and something to snack on. 

While she waited at the bar with her drink, getting lost in her thoughts, a figure approached her, standing rather close. She looked over and saw a young man standing there with a smile on his face, saying, “I couldn’t help but overhear your beautiful accent earlier, where are you from?” 

“Oh, uh, London,” she replied, subtly stepping away. 

“Sweet, I bet it’s almost as beautiful there as you are,” he said with a wink. 

She cringed at the flirting, wishing it would stop as she replied awkwardly, “Oh...uh...thanks.”

He stepped closer, ignoring the growing space between them and placing his hand over hers on the bar, saying, “Why don’t you and me get out of here and-”

“Is everything all right, sweetheart?” came Matt’s voice from behind her. 

He leaned his cane up against the bar and snaked his hand around Crystal’s waist, running it down her side before resting it on her hip. At the touch, Crystal felt her heart speed up and a jolt of pleasure went south, causing her to shiver slightly under his hold. Matt’s hand subtly squeezed her hip, causing her to come back to the moment, telling him, “Everything’s fine, love, thank you. Just waiting on my order.” She removed her hand from the young man’s and added, “I was just about to tell this gentleman that I was here with someone already.”

The young man’s eyes went wide seeing Matt holding onto Crystal, so he stuttered out, “Sorry man, I didn’t realize, I’ll let her be. Have a good one.”

Once he was out of earshot and back with his friends across the room, Crystal let out a sigh of relief, telling Matt breathlessly, “Thanks for the save.”

“Any time,” he told her before letting his hold on her go seemingly reluctantly. “Foggy said you looked uncomfortable so I decided to step in. Karen and Marci are mad at me about it, but,” he said with a quiet chuckle. 

“They’re never going to let it go, huh?” Crystal asked as she took the basket of cheese sticks from Josie before guiding herself and Matt back to the table. 

“Probably not, they’re persistent,” Matt told her. “Even so, being four shots deep isn’t the best state to be in for your first time here in the states. They should know that.”

By the end of the night she ended up being six shots deep plus a couple beers that Marci pushed her way. While hanging out with the little group, Crystal had found herself babbling on and on about baking, telling them how it’s always been her dream to go to culinary school but hasn’t found the opportunity to do so. She shared a few recipes with Marci before Matt began helping her back to her flat. 

Once they got outside the door to her flat, Matt asked, “Post-it still there? Time hasn’t refreshed or anything has it?” 

Crystal scanned the door and saw that the post-it was no longer there, so she said, “Nope, all clear,” followed by a giggle as she fished around her purse for her keys. 

A smile was evident in Matt’s voice as he told her, “You know, you’re a really giggly drunk. It’s endearing.”

“And you’re extremely charming,” she told him, another giggle slipping out at her boldness. 

Crystal began trying to get the key into the doorknob, but dropped them in the process. She bent down to pick them up, but nearly fell over when she straightened. Almost as if instinctively, Crystal felt Matt reach out to steady her, his hand once again landing on her hip as her body pressed back onto his. “Woah there,” he said, an audible smirk on his lips. 

Matt put his hand over Crystal’s and helped her keep it steady as she slipped the key into the doorknob and turned it. The feeling of his hand over hers and their bodies so close together stirred something inside of Crystal, and images of what those hands were probably capable of began to flood her mind. Her breath hitched in her throat momentarily at the thoughts and she felt her blood begin to run south again. Matt’s grip on her hip once again tightened, but this time he shifted his body away from hers, saying, “I think it’s time for you to get inside. Thanks for letting me get you that drink tonight.”

With the alcohol dulling her brain to mouth filter, she once again giggled before telling him, “If there’s more nights like this in the future I wouldn’t mind. With or without alcohol.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he told her quietly before she opened the door and let herself in, a hand on the wall for support. 

“Goodnight, Matt,” she said with a wave.

“‘Night, Crys,” he told her, that charming smile once again making its appearance, along with the butterflies in Crystal’s stomach at the sight. She closed the door before thinking to herself, This man is going to be the death of me…

A few days passed and Matt couldn’t get the night with Crystal at Josie’s out of his head. One evening after a stressful case, he, Foggy, and Karen decided to go out and Matt offered up Stardust, citing, “We haven’t been there at night and you like wine Karen, why not try something different?” 

“He just wants to see Crystal again,” Foggy said under his breath to Karen.

“Let him be happy,” Karen chastised back with a light punch to his shoulder. 

“You guys know I can hear you, right?” Matt called from his office across the room as he packed away his things into his briefcase for the day. 

“We know!” they called back.

As they all walked out of the office, Foggy clapped Matt on the back and said, “You know, I think this is good for you, Matt. Getting out there again and all! Ever since Josie’s Marci’s been on and on about a double date. It’s actually kinda exhausting.”

“Make it a triple,” Karen said with a smile audible in her voice. “I met someone the other night on the way home from Josie’s. We hailed the same cab and figured out we were going to the same place. Turns out we actually have a lot in common and are planning a date for this weekend…”

“Karen Page, would you look at you!” Foggy said in light of the news.

“Good for you, Karen, I’m happy for you,” Matt told her as the three of them walked down the hallway to the exit of their building. 

“And I’ll be happy for you when you finally man up and ask Crystal on a date,” Karen told him, a fake sternness in her tone. 

“Okay, what’s with you two and the pushing for me and her to date all of a sudden?” Matt asked. 

Foggy scoffed before replying, “Matt, buddy, come on.” 

“What?”

“I guess love really is blind,” he joked before getting a playful punch on the shoulder from Matt in return. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Matt said with a chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. 

While he and his friends ate their respective meals and drinks at Stardust, Matt couldn’t help but listen to Crystal quietly singing to the music playing over the shop’s speakers as she helped Raeyes put up decorations around the shop. She had been off today, but it was by incredible luck that she was there that evening. Foggy swore up and down that Matt had to have known, but he really didn’t. 

Matt was taken out of his slight trance when there were suddenly fingers snapping right beside his ear, startling him back into reality. He shook his head before saying, “Sorry, I got distracted, what were you saying?”

He could hear the disbelief in his voice as Foggy said, “You’ve got it bad man!”

Tilting his head to the side a bit, Matt asked, “What do you mean?”

The sly tone of Karen’s voice came next, saying, “I know what’s got him so distracted.”

“Enlighten me,” Foggy said, a hint of mischief in his voice. 

“He’s always listening to her sing when we’re here, so I assume that’s what he’s doing right now, and the song that’s playing, it’s…let’s say sexually charged.”

“Wait, wait I know this one, it’s Ready For It…? by Taylor Swift, Marci’s always listening to this album!” Foggy’s laugh filled Matt’s ears before he said incredulously, “Don’t tell me you’re picturing sex with the girl you’re too scared to even make a move on, Murdock!”

“He totally is,” Karen’s teasing voice said. 

Foggy nudged Matt in the ribs before asking, “What, are you wishing it was you making her make that noise instead of a song? Can’t get there if you don’t make a move, bud!”

Matt shook his head before asking, “Can we talk about something else? What about what we’re going to do with all the potatoes Mrs. Aledes gave us after we settled her case?”

“No, I think this is something we need to discuss,” Karen said, her tone shifting to something softer now. She laughed lightly before adding, “Not the sex thing, but the subject in general. You’ve clearly had her on your radar for a while, why don’t you make a move?” 

“Yeah, for real, since when has Matthew Murdock not pursued one of the many attractive women he somehow knows how to sniff out?” Foggy asked. “Probably literally.”

“Well I mean besides the obvious…other part of my life historically interfering with the safety of people I care about…” Matt started out with, ignoring the second comment. He sighed before admitting, “I guess I’m still trying to get a read on her. Her body gives me all the signs that she’s attracted to me, but…her heart tends to flutter when she’s talking to other men and women too.”

“People can be bisexual, Matt,” Foggy said matter-of-factly. 

“I know that, you didn’t let me finish, Fog,” Matt said. “I’m not even sure she’s ready for a relationship right now, I’ve heard her turn away other people who have tried to give her their number.”

“Who’s to say she doesn’t want one with you and is just waiting for you to make a move? I’m just saying, this is clearly something you want and sitting here listening to her sing that song isn’t doing anything to help,” Karen said. Laughter burst out of her as she added, “Now think about making a move before I start requesting sex songs every time we come in here!”

Matt chuckled and shook his head as he said, “Please don’t.” What he added in his head after though was, I don’t know if I could hold myself back from her again if you do…

next chapter

#daredevil #daredevil x oc #matt murdock #matt murdock x oc #short fanfic #coffee shop au #romance #friends to lovers #fluff #flirting #marvel #fanfiction

[acaciapines]

nano day nineteen

words today: 3047

words total: 42967

more good progress today! realized how hard it is to write a conversation between two people who do not speak the other's language! usually whenever i write firefly talking to people its either in her pov (she tends to understand others better than they understand her) or its like, eda, king, or luzmari. eda who is soul-bound to firefly. king who can See Dust and thus lowkey read minds to an extent. and luzmari who is. well she doesnt have any special power shes just lived w firefly for long enough to understand.

needless to say the collector is Not good at owlspeak. they will be one day! but that day is not today.

its always so fun when the characters sort of run away from you. king and the collector weren't going to start fighting until the last chapter--but they certainly disagreed! so now the fight's started sooner, which is good overall, i think--i've still got the big whammy saved up for that last chapter, and they've spent the entire story drifting apart. its a good way to kick off the final third of this fic.

my favorite part of what i wrote today:

“Quite frankly,” King says, and he shrugs them off, “I don’t even think you understand that you’ve doomed the entire Isles.” He recoils, and his head stings as though King clawed him, but there’s no wounds he can see. Still he doesn’t remember how to breathe. The world is blurry at the edges. King’s stardust is so far away and thundering. “I—” Their words catch in their throat. “What did I do?” “You aided Belos!” He looks so much like his dad. With the snarl ‘n the anger ‘n the way he towers over them, ‘n they cower back further, wanna bare their teeth but it’s all blunt so what good would that do? “Without you, Belos’s would’ve never been able to start the coven system! To cut down all the palistrom trees! You talk a whole lot about missing how things were when you’re the reason they aren’t like that anymore!” “He said he would free me!” “Oh,” King snaps, and his eyes cut right to the center of them, piercing, “and you believed him?” “I don’t.” Everything is going fuzzy. They keep blinking to keep how many Kings there are straight. “I was trapped. I didn’t wanna be trapped! I didn’t do anything to be trapped! I just—I just, I was good good good and your stupid dad trapped me! So it’s his fault!” “Somehow,” King says, “I really doubt you did nothing.”

#nanoblogging #chatter #my favorite part about this argument is how neither of them are wrong <3 #the collector did help belos doom the world. without them theres no coven system or draining spell #and belos wouldnt STOP his goal of Killing All Witches but it sure would not have been as effective #(probably woulda still happened tho. the collector gave sigils + draining spell but Palistrom Tree Murder was a belos original) #but!!! the collector was also trapped!! for no reason!! and it fucked him up BAD! #kings dad overreacted and doomed the collector to this awful life where he had no contact w the outside world #and no contact with DUST which is. lets just say. very important to becoming a Person #and with that on top of his siblings who very much do not see mortals as people.... #not of course that king and the collector know this lol <3 #the eight year olds are fighting..... #this isnt even the most devastating. im saving that for the end. oh ho ho its BAD #but we gotta get to watching and dreaming somehow!! #sorry the collector is my favorite owl house character okay #just. i love them <3 #and a grove of palistrom to you

[riveramorylunar]

Leaving Havenspoint

Pairings: none

Warnings ⚠️: Homophobic Parents & town

Word Count: 1,341

A/N: Havenspoint is basically a wild west town with no phones or TV!!

Y/N's Pov:

I always wanted to know what the outside world was like from this fucked up town called Havenspoint. I've been living here my entire life and if I'm being honest it's the most boring place ever. The only fun thing about it is my four horses Stardust, Moon & their two fouls Dusty & Sugar. I was sitting in the barn leaning against Moon while, she was laying down next to Stardust. Dusty and Sugar where laying down on either side of me with their heads on my lap.

The thing about this town is if the towns people find out someone is part of the LGBTQ community they'll immediately kick them out. I lost my best friend because of it and she was bi. I was reading a book to the little fouls about spirit who was a horse. They seemed to love it because they kept on nudging me. "Y/N dear there you are" I heard my father and I looked up to see him walking over. "What are you doing in here" he asked with a frown. "I'm just reading papa" I said and he folded his arms. "Well dinner will be ready so you should go and clean up" he said before leaving.

I sighed before moving Dusty & Sugar. I stood up and kissed each of their foreheads before walking out of the stall as I grabbed my hat.

"I'll see you later my darlings" I said as I turned around and they all neighed making me smile. I walked out of the barn and started making my way back to my house. I was turning 18 today and I was finally gonna leave this place tomorrow night. I already had my train ticket & boarding passes for my horses so they didn't have to live here anymore. I met a nice elderly couple a week ago on a trail I go on everyday to get away from the town. They had asked me what I was doing out there all by myself and I told them everything. They said that they were sorry and told me I could come live with them on the outskirts of New York and I thanked them.

I walked into my house to see my parents and a few of the townspeople standing in front of me smiling. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETHEART" my parents shouted and I just looked at everyone confused. "Happy birthday beautiful" I heard Jacks say and I rolled my eyes. I ignored him before looking at my parents. I opened my mouth but I heard someone shout my name. I looked up at the top of the stairs to see my two little siblings running down the stairs in their horse onesies I had gotten them for their fourth birthday. God I'm going to really miss their faces. They came running down the stairs before throwing their little arms around me. I felt like I was gonna tear up but I held it in. "Can we go have some cake" they both asked and I nodded as we walked past everyone. I had cut them both a small slice of cake and I watched as they walked over to the table and sat down before eating their slices of cake. "Y/N when are you going to tell momma and daddy about you know what" Belle said and I looked at both of them to see them looking at me. "I don't know, you know how our parents are and the town" I said and they both frowned before going back to eating their cake. I wasn't going to tell them I was leaving tomorrow night because I didn't want to see them break down and beg me to stay.

It was the next evening and I was in the barn getting my horses ready to leave when I heard someone cough behind me. I turned around to see my parents looking at me with questioning looks. "Where do you think you're going with all this stuff" my mother said and I just turned back around and fastened the saddle on Stardust. "I'm leaving" I said and I heard my mother yell. "You're not going anywhere this is your home" she shouted and I rested my hands on Stardust. "Damn it look at me" she shouted and I just ignored her as I lifted myself up onto Stardust. "Sissy where are you going" I heard Arlo's voice and I felt tears well up in my eyes. I just ignored him before I patted Stardust signaling for him to run. I heard him crying out after me as Moon, Dusty & Sugar started following us.

We stopped halfway to the train station to take a break. I fed them each an apple before pouring water into their mouths. I got back on Stardust a couple minutes later and hugged him as I buried my head in his mane.

It was night when we reached the train station and I saw the train come to a stop. "Just in time" I said before hopping off of Stardust. I grabbed the reins of the bridle and walked towards the horse cart. The conductor smiled before opening the cart up. "You must be Y/N" he asked and I looked at him shocked. "How'd you know my name" I said and he chuckled. "Otto & Evelyn told me who to look out for" he said and I smiled before jumping down from the cart.

The train started moving when everyone got on board. I was looking out the window with my chin resting against my palm when I heard someone shout my name. My head snapped towards the voice and my eyes widened in shock. I stood up "Belle Arlo what the hell are you two do-" before I could finish my sentence they both rushed over crying as they crashed into me. "We didn't want you to leave so we followed you here" Belle cried out and I knelt down hugging them back. "How the hell did you follow me" I said and they pulled away. "We rode on here on chestnut" Arlo said happily and my eyes widened in shock. "You rose Chestnut" I said and they both nodded before I heard someone speak up.

"They didn't ride him without me" I heard a familiar voice and looked up to see Ryder standing there with his hands in his back pockets. "Ryder" I said and he smiled. "You think you were gonna leave without saying goodbye to your second best friend" he questioned while raising his eyebrow. "Maybe maybe not" I said and he rolled his eyes before walking over and helping me up. "Plus these two begged me when I entered the barn after your parents left" he said motioning towards the two four year olds. Ryder was my second best friend and he was gay. Me and Queenie were the only ones who knew about him being gay.

We all sat down in the booths. Belle was sitting on my lap with her head resting against my shoulder as she started falling asleep. Arlo was playing with his stuffed bear Ryder who had got him for his fourth birthday as he sat next to Ryder. Belle was holding her stuffed bear as well.

I woke up when I felt the train stop. I stood up with Belle in my arms before shaking Ryder and Arlo awake. "What's going on" Ryder rasped out and I chuckled. "We're here" I said and he looked out the window with his eyes wide. After Arlo woke up we got off the train and saw our horses already out of the cart. Dusty and Sugar rushed over nudging my legs making me laugh. "Come on let's get going" I said before walking over to Stardust. Ryder took Belle so I could get on before handing her back over since she was still sleeping. Ryder and Arlo got on Chestnut before we headed off in the direction of Otto's and Evelyn's place.

Taglist 🏷️: @blckwidowsbf @inluvwithfictionalwomen @gaydreamersstuff

If anyone else wants to be on the taglist just ask me or comment!!!!

#Rivers stories📜 #❤️‍🔥❤️tales of the heart❤️❤️‍🔥 #Scarlett Johansson #Florence Pugh #Cobie Smulders #Elizabeth Olsen #Meghan Ory #Ruby Rose #Charlize Theron

[spaceumbredoggos]

So much for Stardust Chapter Sixteen

Alastor’s POV:

I heard a snarl from behind me, causing me to snap back. A creature that resembled a small black winged wolf with electric blue circles on their large ears, forehead, tail, and wings, electric blue antlers, and dark violet barbs on their wings, tail, wrists and ankles crouched into a hunting position and snapped their jaws. They sprang before I could react, pinning me down. I launched them back, turning into my full demon form. They locked antlers with me, sawing their head back and forth. “What are you?”

Charlie ran up to the scene, noticing what was going on. “No no no no no!!!” Charlie summoned her trident, trying to grab the creature’s attention. For the first time since the fight with Adam, I felt pain. Their claws slashed at my chest, causing a burst of crimson blood. “Fuck!!!”

“Hey hey hey!!!” Charlie transformed into her full demon form to try and grab the creature’s attention. They snarled, springing at Charlie and locking their antlers with Charlie’s trident. Vaggie came out form the hotel, rushing up to the creature. “What the fuck is that?”

The creature hissed as I sulked away to heal myself, bleeding from the reopened wound on my chest. Is this what Bill warned me about? Creatures beyond God coming to Hell? I bandaged the wound and walked back to the scene, watching from the shadows and fighting back the pain.

The creature was furious, clawing viciously at Vaggie and arching their tail barb forward. They snapped their jaws and disarmed Charlie’s trident, casting it to the side. They started panting and collapsed, out of energy. “What the fuck was that?”

“Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.” Charlie called their father. “So dad, there was this monster thing that came from the human world that almost killed Alastor.” She described the situation to Lucifer as I walked up to the creature, grabbing them by their antlers and bringing them back to my room. I muzzled them and tied up their antlers, then duct taped their claws, barbs and wings. They opened their wild green eyes and thrashed, unable to attack or free themself. “Stay still!!!”

A menacing rose from their throat. “No one besides Adam has been able to hurt me.” I grabbed my newly repaired staff and noticed the lucidity reappear in their eyes. They had a wide gaze of terror, almost akin to saying “my god what have I done.” They flopped on their size, staying completely still and backing off, almost submitting. I walked up to them. “Now if I remove that muzzle, will you tell me who you are instead of snapping me with those brutish jaws you mangy mutt?”

They nodded sheepishly, understanding what I said. I removed the muzzle, noticing them pant and dip their head. “I’m Kenz. I’m just having a really bad day.”

A kid? They shrank down to an even smaller size and shook with fear. “I don’t know what’s going on with me but all I think about is fighting and sex. I feel so hot all the time and I want to stop being such an idiot, but I just turn into this big mean monster that fights for no reason. All I know is that I can apparently transform into this powerful being called an Umbredoggo, but I don’t know how to control it and shit. All it seems to be doing to me is causing trouble. Loona would understand. Where is she? Fuck!! All I want is to be in her arms and petted and to—“

“Alright, I get it. You’re a horny bastard.” I approached them, grabbing their antlers. They wagged their tail and the circles on their body glowed even brighter as if blushing. I immediately let go as they shook their head. “I wouldn’t touch the antlers. I don’t know why, but whenever someone touches them, I feel so weird and—“

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“I don’t want to say it either. Look. I’ll go home. Leave the hotel and shit behind, and—“

“You’re not going anywhere.” I grabbed them by their wings, causing them to flail. “What are you gonna do with me?”

“The other overlords need to know about this.” I grabbed them by the scruff of their neck, which stopped them from flailing. “Stay still. I’m not going to hurt you.” Yet.

I dragged them to the overlord meeting, muzzling them and binding their wings together. I tied their legs up and put a shock collar on them to keep them from trying anything.

Zestial sat beside me, sipping his tea. Carmilla’s jaw dropped as she shielded her daughters behind her. “An umbredoggo.”

“This wretched creature attacked me from the living realm.” Murmurs escalated from the room. Suddenly, Velvette walked into the room, bolting towards the creature. “What’s this thing doing here?”

I rolled my eyes as the Umbredoggo shook in fear. “The most powerful being in the multiverse.” Carmilla grabbed them by the scruff and held them up. “Highly intelligent with barbs, fangs, claws and antlers secreting venom that can kill God and can cut through any material. Immune to angelic weapons, fire, and drowning. But highly weak to the cold. This one is a pretty young specimen, unaware of their true potential. The last one reincarnated itself as a human. I wonder if it transforms into that form…”

“What’s it doing in hell?” Velvette swiped it from Carmilla, who glared at her. “We could really use these for the next extermination.”

“They’re usually a passive species, balancing the multiverse. The only reason why this one would be combative is because they are in a state called heat/rut. It must be breeding season. They’re the only one of their kind, significantly making their heat/ruts worse.”

I then remembered that Bill and Mammon had a bounty on Umbredoggos. I grabbed the Umbredoggo from Velvette, holding them by the scruff.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. I answered it, finding a tall blonde human wearing a yellow suit with a brick like pattern on the back with black pants and sleeves. He had one golden eye with a cat-like pupil, and held a cane in his hands. His hair was covering his triangular eye patch. “Alastor. Alastor. Alastor. You bastard!!!” He grinned and laughed, taking his seat. “Bill. What a pleasant surprise.” The Umbredoggo shook as the sight of Bill, who grabbed a cigar and lit it in a blue flame. He started smoking it and blowing the smoke in the umbredoggo’s face, knocking it out. “Release little Kenzy Wenzy from their little restraints.” He stroked their pelt as I removed all the duct tape and rope from their prison. They were out cold as Bill grabbed them, cuddling up with them. “They finally show their true form after all these years.” He nuzzled their neck in a sickening fashion, like a passionate lover. Carmilla continued shielding her daughters as I gagged back in disgust as Bill’s behavior. “You have done well bringing my little Kenz to me, Deer Teeth.”

“So about my—“

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m not setting you free. You see, you have done well, Radio Deer. But I still own your soul. I own this Umbredoggo’s soul. I also own their mind, heart, body…” Bill nibbled at their neck. “I’d say that you got off easy. I could kill you right now. You’re that dispensable. I was gonna kill Kenzy Wenzy before the brat had a chance to sprout their wings. But that ship has sailed.” He stroked their pelt and purred sickeningly. “Nah. Instead, I’m gonna make them a valuable asset to my team. My partner. But I have to sterilize them before they go making more of themself. Can’t have them repopulating and starting a pack, creating a coup to ruin my plans. Even if it’s what that neurodivergent man child Lucifer and that infuriating Salamander wants. But the kid won’t resist. Not when I kill their entire adoptive family in revenge. And guess who I’m going to hire.” Bill took a long drawl of his cigarette. “Carmilla—“

“Leave me out of this.”

“Or what?” Bill smirked, waking up the Umbredoggo, who had a pair of glowing yellow eyes. Their fangs glistened in the light as they snarled and snapped. They were poised and ready to tear Carmilla to bits. “I’m not scared of them.”

“Which is why they’re not after you.” Bill held onto their leash and collar, keeping them inches away from Carmilla’s daughters. Carmilla gasped before trying to slash at Bill with her angelic tipped shoes. Bill snapped his fingers and threw her back, into the wall, shattering her shoes. Carmilla shook in fear as her daughters rushed to her.

The umbredoggo’s eyes turned a bright green as if they regained consciousness. They thrashed against the chain that held them, snapping at Bill and snarling. “Let me go!!!”

Bill rolled his eye and started stroking their antlers, causing them to scream out in fear. “Aww. Is this turning you on, Zie Zie? Are you in your heat/rut? Do you want to be—“

“Enough!!!” I stood up, realizing what Bill had been doing to them. The kid watchfully gazed at me Bill turned to me. “What did you say, Deer Teeth?” A glowing blue collar and chain appeared on my neck as I was dragged down. The Umbredoggo grew more enraged, snarling protectively over me. “You wanted to kill him just a second ago! You can’t hate me that badly, Zie Zie.”

But the Umbredoggo was relentless. They reared back and sprang at Bill, loosening his grip on the chain and biting into Bill’s throat. He gasped as the Umbredoggo sawed their head back and forth, shredding his arms and his coat. Bill buckled back, startled by the ferocity of the attack, but then he laughed, throwing them against the wall. He grabbed their antlers again, rubbing them until the Umbredoggo collapsed in submission. But Bill was wounded and vulnerable. And the Umbredoggo knew it.

The creature charged at Bill, pinning him to the wall with their antlers. The yellowness in Bill’s coat faded to brown, then to black as Bill became more transparent. The Umbredoggo turned to flee, but not before grabbing my arm with their mouth. They dragged me back to the hotel before Bill or even me knew what happened.

I sat down on the couch of the hotel, noticing the frightened look on the creature’s face. They glared at me as I approached to remove the shock collar on their neck. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not!!! You were WORKING FOR THAT BASTARD!!!! I SAW HOW HE LOOKED AT YOU!!!” They reared back, their rings glowing. Charlie walked into the room. “What’s going on?”

“You think you know every single fucking thing about Alastor the Radio Demon?” The Umbredoggo bit em and pinned me down. Their claws dug into my arms. “Call Lucifer.” But Charlie didn’t move. “NOW!!!”

Charlie grabbed her phone and started to call her father. “Alastor the Radio demon is working for the king of all things bad himself, Bill Cipher.”

“WAIT WHAT?” Vague bolted into the room with the angelic spear aimed at my throat. “Kenz, why are you doing this? You stood up for me—“

“To create a diversion!!!” They held me down to the ground as Husker and Angel Dust walked in. “Don’t act like you weren’t gonna turn me in to set yourself free, only for Bill to want to dispose of you. I’m not letting him because you deserve so much more than to have your soul cleansed with death. You let Charlie think that you’re helping her for her own benefit but that’s wrong. All you want is an escape, but you make empty promises that you can’t keep. Now Lucifer’s daughter is in immediate danger from Bill with you getting so close to her. Your leash is tight and your time is tighter!!!”

“Holy shit.” Lucifer materialized in the scene, noticing Kenz falling over from the strain of their powers. “You!!!” Lucifer charged at me in his full demon form, pinning me against the wall. “Alastor Alturist pays for his sins.” Kenz turned away, gasping for breath. “Sorry to disappoint, but I won’t let Bill win.” Kenz passed out from exhaustion, panting in their sleep. Charlie rushed up to them, frantically shaking them awake. I trembled in fear as Lucifer threw me out of the hotel against the walls, breaking several bones. He slashed at my chest with Charlie’s trident before closing the door.

I paused to catch my breath, crawling away from the very hotel I helped build. I collapsed on the street, gazing skyward with fury and defeat. Bill’s laugh filled my ears. The rage of witnessing his predatory behavior towards Kenz was met with, for the first time in my life, extreme pity and shame. Kenz was as much of a victim of Bill, if not more, as much as I am. I remembered how Kenz somehow managed to snap out of Bill’s control. Respect filled me, but then it was met with horror. They’re used to being used like this. That’s how they were able to break free so readily. I felt the blood drain from my body as I remembered how ready to fight Kenz was against Bill. How they were suddenly able to weaken him. A glimmer of hope swelled through me that they someday may break free as everything turned to black.

#bill cipher #hazbin hotel #self insert #self insert oc #alastor #carmilla carmine #zestial #hazbin hotel velvette #umbredoggos #so much for stardust

[kwritingbooks]

co-written by me & @sunsalutationsss

read on: wattpad & tumblr masterlist

Aurora is a twenty-one year old who lives in Yellowstone, Canada. Home of the aurora lights, Yellowstone is the perfect place to study astronomy. Born and raised in Alaska by self-proclaimed hippies, her family has always inspired her to continue her interest in the stars. Little does she know that her years of studying wouldn’t prepare her for this other-worldly phenomenon she would soon discover. A phenomenon that has bright green eyes, an odd personality, and works with her at the university’s planetarium.

AU: star-being!harry x astronomy-student!aurora

HARRY’S POV

Stars. Galaxies. Planets. They are all things that make up infinite universes that separate different worlds from each other. Some for good reason. When worlds collide, what would happen? Would chaos among different breeds and cultures all around the world and galaxies ensue?

Of course it would. Because although people were born on earth, they didn't realize that they, too, were made of stardust and anything that didn't seem possible could very well be. When a star explodes, millions of creatures die. When a star is created, my people are born by the thousands.

So, as for us, we were the lucky ones. My star, Stella Domus, had been unscathed since I was born two thousand years ago and it had been our home ever since. Although our star might have seemed small, we were one of the biggest societies in the galaxy.

My father and mother were the rulers of this particular star and I just so happened to be the next in line to rule, assuming I didn't die before that happened. Although, I had managed to survive this long, so the odds seemed to be in my favor so far.

My parents hadn't told me much about what had been going on, but I'd noticed the whispered conversations in the corridors of the kingdom. I tried my best to ignore it, but it was hard when the tension was so thick I could feel it. It made me want to crawl out of my skin just to get away sometimes. Whenever something was wrong, my body could almost immediately sense it.

Yet there I was, putting one foot in front of the other, as I walked from my bedroom into the main corridor of my parents. The hallways were empty as my footsteps echoed against the marble flooring. I stopped mid-step once I reached the two entry doors and looked up as they towered over me. Its golden handles sparkled against the moonlight outside the windows. With one swift movement, my body leaned against the wooden frame and I turned the knob. The doors swung open and immediately my eyes gazed around the room as I took my first step inside.

I'd been in this room more times than I could count, but I swore I could still get lost in its magnitude. The ceiling stretched so high it would make my feet stumble if I stared too long. I used to dream about flying to the top when I was a child, just to be able to finally be above everyone else.

Gold accents adorned the entirety of the space, looking as magnificent as ever paired with the marble. Golden stars flicked reflections back at me from the walls to the tops of the ceilings. It was as if they were greeting me as I entered, too. It was what I always thought growing up, and I still partially believed it to this day.

I knew my parents had to be around here somewhere, but I was also silently hoping I wouldn't run into them. They'd been so on edge recently that it inadvertently made me on edge. So, preferably, I had been keeping my distance.

Really all I wanted to do was sit on the big couch that out-stretched against the entire wall. My parents used to scold me for sneaking into their area of the kingdom, but they soon gave up. I couldn't help that they had the best spots to relax. Maybe they should have put the couch in my room and we wouldn't have had this issue.

"Evening, Harry." One of the guards said to me with a slight bow, and I gave him a cheeky smile with a wave as I walked by.

"Hello." I coo'd.

"Harry." I heard my father's voice boom through the room which caused me to jump a little as I turned on my heel, my hand on my chest as I breathed out a laugh.

"Dad, you scared me." I looked at his deadpan expression, my smile dropping as I took a few steps back from him. He walked by me with a fierce stride towards the main table.

"We need to talk." He ignored my sentence, my mother following close behind him. She set a soft hand onto my arm as she flashed me a gentle smile. I placed my hand onto hers as I walked with her to the main table and sat down in front of him.

I was the first to sit and I had begun to impatiently tap my fingers against the top of my knee as it bounced. I could tell they were about to talk to me about something, probably scold me. I did my best to think hard about anything I could have done recently to cause this sit-down conversation.

Eventually they both settled in their chairs and they first looked at one another before turning their attention to me. The look on their faces was hard to read and I twitched uncomfortably in my seat because of it.

"Listen, I don't care what Leon said, I didn't use his bar of soap! He's a liar." I blurted out in a huff, pinching the bridge of my nose. "And I think it's a bit unfair that we have the same colored soaps—"

"Harry— God, no. This isn't about your brother." My father groaned, rolling his eyes as he slammed his hands on the table. He was staring at me with a serious look on his face and my face dropped in expression, my lip curling into my mouth as I looked at him.

"Oh, well, yeah." I trailed off. "I was just kidding anyway. What's up?" I shot a smile back at them, placing my hands onto the table. They both looked at one another and back at me, briefly rolling their eyes.

"The war." My father spoke lowly under his breath. He shot another glance back at my mom and she ignored it, spinning back to me with a timid look.

"What about it?" My arms crossed against my chest. I didn't understand why they wanted to sit down with me to talk about this. What did I have to do with it? They had never included me before.

I could tell my father was growing increasingly annoyed as he pleadingly glared at my mom, motioning his hands towards me. I guess it was her turn to talk and I shifted my attention back to her. This was beginning to annoy me, too. They kept talking to me like I was supposed to be getting it when they had hardly said anything.

"Listen honey." My mom softly chimed in before she proceeded to get up from her chair and walked over to me. She knelt down beside me, placing her hand back onto my arm and looked up to meet my eyes.

"Things aren't..." She stopped for a moment to collect her thoughts. "They're not good. Okay, Harry? I know you aren't due to have your first mission for a while, but we're going to need you now."

My hands remained crossed as I peered down at her. I could feel my eyebrows scrunch together in thought. She was still looking at me with the same expression on her face, as if begging me to understand.

"Wait, now?" I shot up from my chair as a new wave of panic began to course through my body. No way was I prepared for this, what made them think I was ready now?

Mom had stood back up, pushing her chair in as she walked to my side. Her hand graced against my back, forcing me to shift my gaze back to her.

"Yes, Harry. We need you. You know we wouldn't ask you this if we didn't think you were ready—"

My dad cleared his throat, cutting her off. It was almost like he was choking on my mom's words and she shot a scolding glare at him. Through clenched teeth she spoke towards him. "Right, dear?"

He paused for a moment, huffing a breath and nodded his head. "Yes, what your mother said."

"Right." She looked at him with a tight smile, turning around on her heel as she placed her hands behind her back. She was thinking carefully about what to say next.

"You know..." She cleared her throat, placing her hands onto the table as she looked back at me. "The light guardians have been spotted on Earth near the aurora lights tonight..."

I stared with a blank expression on my face for a moment, my eyes glancing over at my father briefly then back at my mother. Tension filled the air, so much so that I could have cut it with the sharpest knife in the galaxy.

"They were taken down, but unfortunately some of our people got wounded. They're in urgent care. We really need you to go down to earth to see what we are up against."

"Wait." I interjected, putting my hand up as my eyes went down to the floor, a cheeky smile on my lips as my gaze flicked up to hers. "I'm going to Earth?"

My father let out a sigh as he stood to his feet, leaning over the table slowly. "This does not mean you get to go down there and goof around. You are to go down there, keep talking to humans at a bare minimum, and come back."

"But..." I pointed a finger at him, a grin on my lips. "I get to finally go to Earth."

I had never been to Earth yet and my heart was pounding out of my chest. I had only ever seen humans in pictures, never in real life. Excited was an understatement.

"Harry, honey, listen." My mother placed a hand on my arm, a worried chuckle left her lips as she glanced between me and my father. "Yes, you will be going to Earth. We need you to protect Aurora. Our life depends on it."

My father opened his jacket, slipping out a piece of paper as he slid it across the table. His brows furrowed together as he pointed at the drawing on the paper. "This is what you need to look for. If you see anyone in human form with this on their skin—"

"Is that what the light guardians have on them?" I picked the piece of paper up, inspecting the drawing carefully as I furrowed my brows. My eyes shot over to my mom. "This is what I need to look for?"

"Well, yes and—" She dug into her pocket, pulling out an amulet as she dangled it in front of me. She took my hand and placed it carefully into my palm, closing it and stared into my eyes. "This amulet will momentarily stun any power they have. All you need to do is to point it where the sunlight reflects onto them. This also means you have to act quickly."

"Sweet." I said in excitement, looking down at the blue amulet. It was made of moonstone of different sizes hooked on a chain, but the center opened to reveal two small mirrors.

"Harry, this is serious. Your job is simple." My father made me look at him, his expression deadpanned once again. "Go to earth. Protect the Aurora. Come back. That's it. Don't form any human relationships, don't fuck around. Do your job and come back."

I opened my mouth to say something, but my mom had handed me a key as she talked to me. "This is the key to where you'll be staying. It has the address on it. Just follow the instructions. We need you to go now."

"Okay." I shrugged, shoving the key into my pocket.

Easy enough. Go down, protect Aurora, and come back. Couldn't be too hard. Honestly, I thought that my family would have given me a harder mission, but this sounded like a piece of cake.

The security guard came up from behind me, handing me my coat and I turned around on my heel, grabbing it as I pulled it over my shoulders.

"And I'll be back in a couple of days?"

"You can not stay longer than three days at a time. Our kind can not survive on Earth for that long. Come back and report every three days you are there." My mother looked worried, but still had a tight smile on her lips as she spoke. I was worried too. They didn't even tell me how to find this Aurora.

"Sounds good to me—" I paused as I looked back at my father who stood with a grimace on his face. My mother nudged him with her elbow, muttering something to him under her breath.

"Father? I won't let you down. I'll make sure of it." I said as I walked backwards, showing him the amulet in my hand. A cheeky smile spread on my lips as I put it into my pocket, but then felt my foot stumbled over a cord which almost sent me face-first to the marble flooring.

My father groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. I stood up quickly, putting my hands up. "I'm good! I'm good! My bad." I laughed out. "Okay, bye." I ran down the staircase into the corridors.

"He's an idiot." My father muttered under his breath. My mother frowned, crossing her arms over her chest as she walked away from him.

"You could at least give him a chance, love." She said softly before vanishing into her bedroom.

My feet carried me as I ran out the front door of the palace, the ice cold space hit me and I breathed out slowly. I looked over to my left to see the moon next to our home planet, a big smile on my face as I pointed at it, furrowing my brows.

"I won't let ya down, moon. I'm gonna save us all." There was a quiet moment before I spun myself towards Earth, staring at it with wonder in my eyes.

I closed my eyes, feeling the energy running through my toes, up my legs, and shooting through my body as I formed myself into the smallest star. My light shone so bright even the guards had shielded their eyes from it. Within seconds, I felt a rush of adrenaline and blasted off from my planet and straight to Earth. The journey may have seemed short, but I knew it would take seconds for me to get there.

Earth, here I come.

CH 2 RELEASE DATE: 02/09/22

UPDATES FORWARD: every tuesday

a/n: we hope you like it so far! i know this chapter is a bit shorter, but this is just the beginning! as always, please leave feedback and share if you enjoyed it <3 we will be updating every tuesday, but we wanted to give a little treat (and a little less wait time) so that’s why we wanted to post chapter two tomorrow too! be sure to follow us on tumblr as well as our wattpads (all linked above)—if you enjoy starboy, i’m sure you’ll enjoy either of our other works, too! thank you for reading <333

#harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles wattpad #harry styles au #harry edward styles #harry styles fic rec #1d #harries #harry styles prompts #hs #hs blurb #hs1 #hs2 #hs3 #hs3 speculation #hs3 is coming #harry styles writer #starboyrry #astronomy fic #1d fanfic #one direction #solo harries #harry styles x reader #astronomy #astrology #wattpad fic #wattpad writer

[reidgraygubler]

Spoonful of Sugar (spencer reid/reader)

Title: spoonful of sugar

Request: yes! (a super fluffy spence x reader one shot in which she's sick with the flu, a high fever or something similiar, so he has to take care of her. Usually i'm not that super whiny and wouldn't request things like that buuut i'm in a desperate need for spence to take care of me while i'm ill and home alone.)

Couple: Spencer Reid/gen-neutral!reader

Category: fluff

Content Warning: spencer’s pov, anxiety about an ill partner, none that I can think of. If something does need to be tagged, please message me

Word Count: 1,638

Summary: Spencer stays home from work to take care of his partner, who’s sick with the flu

A/N: sorry this took so long to get posted. i forgot I had it written and it was just sitting in my drafts. it is a little on the shorter side... thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

The person who usually slept beside me did not sleep last night. I only know that because whenever they tossed and turned, it’d wake me up. But also, they kept stealing all the blankets from me. Whenever I tried to take them back, they’d wake up and steal them again. Or they’d be suddenly up in a coughing fit. And then, they finally fell asleep around the time I had to get out of bed for work. Leaving me with another restless night of sleep. I was used to it at this point, but not because of them.

When I left the bedroom, I made sure to be as quiet as possible. I didn’t want to be the reason why they woke up for the day. Clearly something was on their mind and keeping them up. I also made sure they had all of the blankets on their body. While I did that, I sneakily rested my hand on their forehead, and the back of their neck, just to check their temperature.

They were on fire. I’d never felt someone as hot as that in a very long time. It would explain why they got no sleep and kept waking up, and stealing the blankets. They’d need to get medicine and fluids in them, and quickly. But I’ll do that when I’m finished getting ready. They just fell asleep and I’d rather them sleep off their fever.

So that’s what I did. I quickly got ready for work, doing all the necessary things I had to do. I wanted to make sure my person had everything they needed before I left for work.

Which meant a quick stop at the market down the street. The market had their favorite soup, juice, and snacks. If I was going to go into work today, I needed to make sure they had everything they needed before I left for the day. And if they wanted me to stay, I’d do that for them.

“Hey Emily, I’m going to be late to the office today,” I said into my phone as I grabbed a basket. The store had several people, just enough for me to be cautious of where I was going. And it pressured me to be even quicker inside.

“Oh! Of course! Is everything okay?” Emily asked, the concern in her tone sounding genuine. I sighed before nodding.

“Yeah, just... Just need to take care of someone who’s sick,” I explained as I grabbed a bottle of orange juice.

“Take all the time you need! We got everything covered here.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course, call me if you need anything!” She proclaimed before bidding farewell. I sighed deeply before pocketing my phone and headed towards the deli to get some soup. They always gave me chicken noodle, with the good thick egg noodles. Since they also enjoyed White Chicken Chill, I got that for them, too. Anything to make them feel better sooner.

Once I got both soups, enough juice for a small household, and plenty of healthy snacks, I made the trek back home. Whether they enjoyed the things I got them or not, I knew they’d enjoy the thought. Because that’s all that matters, right? The thought?

When I got home, I prepared the chicken noodle in a bowl, and grabbed a bottle of juice with electrolytes, and brought it to the bedroom. They were still asleep, however slightly stirring. Instead of just leaving right away, I waited a moment for them to wake up.

“My head is pounding,” they groaned as they brought a hand to rest on their forehead. “Like I drank a fifth of whiskey,” they added. I held back my chuckle and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You’re hot.”

“Thanks so are you,” they blew me a kiss. I rolled my eyes before shaking my head.

“You have a fever, Dear,” I corrected as I handed them the bottle of juice. “I got you soup, juice, and healthy snacks.”

“You’re too kind, Spencer,” they hummed as they struggled to open the bottle. I watched as they sighed and handed the bottle over to me. I smiled as I cracked the bottle open.

“I have to go in, but if you want me to stay I can.” I handed the bottle back to them. They smiled brightly before taking a big sip of the juice.

“No, no, you’re the breadmaker here. You’d be no use to me here.”

“I can help you,” I breathed out a laugh. They lazily smiled before shrugging. “I’m gonna get you medicine.”

“If you don’t come back with Day and Nyquil, don’t come back at all,” they teased. I laughed as I looked back at them.

“Eat your soup, I’m getting you medicine,” I repeated as I pointed at the bowl of chicken noodle on the nightstand. They glared at me before picking up the bowl. I was quick, grabbing the medicine they asked for and a bottle of Aleve.

“Do you need anything else?” I looked down at them as I placed the bottles on the nightstand. They shook their head as they looked back at me, watching as I sat back down beside them.

“I’m all good here.”

“I can stay if you need me to,” I whispered as I looked over at them. They looked away from the bowl of soup with wide eyes. “Surely Emily won’t care. Family first.”

“As much as I’d love for you to stay, Spence, they need you just as badly there,” my person slurred their words. I could only imagine just how congested their sinuses and how blocked their nasal passages were. Which would only cause a migraine. “Besides, I don’t want to get you sick. You’re a baby when you’re sick.” They smirked at me.

“Am not!” I exclaimed as I looked at them. They shrugged before rubbing the underside of their nose. Should have grabbed them tissues while I was at the store. “Seriously, I’ll stay.”

“Seriously, go to work.”

“If I didn’t know any better it sounds to me like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“I am,” they mumbled as they blew softly onto their spoonful of soup. I rolled my eyes before standing up off the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go.” I lifted my hands as a sign of surrender. They looked up at me with a soft smile. “Good to know you can get rid of me so easily.”

“I’ll call you if I need anything.” They placed the soup back on the nightstand before shifting down the bed.

“And I’ll let Emily know I’ll be on desk duty.”

“Spencer,” they warned.

“I’m going! I’m going! Gone! See! Gone!”

“Love you!”

“Love you, too!”

I should have stayed home.

{***}{***}{***}

Okay, maybe Spencer should have stayed home because… I really miss him. I thought I’d be fine if he went in, and I’d get by… But I really want him. God I’m never whiny and asking for things, and the only thing I want… I sent it away.

I could call him… He’d drop everything and come right over. But… He should work. There is a reason why I sent him to work. That was where he was most needed. What if I was wrong though? What if he was most needed here, with me? No, no he’s the brain of the BAU.

But it’d be really nice if he stayed home with me.

Yeah, I made a mistake sending him to work. I’ve never felt so clingy in my entire life. Damn my stupid clinginess.

Did he know I was thinking about him? I must’ve, because he was calling me. Probably just checking in on me. I could ask him to come home. Unless he’s in the middle of helping a case and can’t come home.

“How are you feeling?” Yep, just calling to see how I was doing. It was probably a good thing that he was calling me. He probably just knew I wasn’t feeling any better.

“Could be better,” I paused as I looked over at his side of the bed. It was made but a little tousled around because of my sleeping. “Kinda wish you stayed here,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

“Already on the way home,” he stated like it was no big deal.

“Really?” I asked, feeling a little bit of excitement in my tone. Surely it just sounded like I was stuffy to Spencer. He laughed.

“Finished early. And… Emily noticed I was too distracted thinking about you. I’m about halfway there, do you need anything?”

“You… To get here quickly and give me all the cuddles in the world,” I dramatically sighed as I curled in on my side. “But… Safely!” I quickly added.

“I will be there soon, Dear,” Spencer mused before chuckling lightly. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I should be okay.”

“I’ll be home soon."

“Okay, bye,” I whispered before hanging up. I tossed my phone into the empty space beside me before curling back onto my side. Now that I knew Spencer would be home any minute, maybe I could sleep. Or maybe I should stay awake and wait for him.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Spencer was crawling into bed beside me and I was slowly waking up.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” he whispered as he pulled the blanket back over me. Although it felt like I was on fire, the blanket felt safe over me. Or maybe that was Spencer’s arms wrapped around me that made me feel safe.

“No, no,” I mumbled as I moved as close as possible to him. Spencer laughed lightly before pressing his lips to my forehead. “Don’t leave me again,” I whispered into his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

{***}{***}{***}

if you have any comments/questions about this part, let me know here! please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you’re a part of the taglist. it’s so much work tagging everyone.

not able to tag: @isabellasimps

@thebluetint @mggsprettygirl @muffin-cup @misshale21 @spenciegoob @reidspoet @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @flipperpenguins @kuolonsyoja

@broken-stardust @beepbooptoop @ray-lia

#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds fan fic

[little-lonely-flower]

@leiuas So let’s pretend I didn’t forget to give you Killugon hc/fics dkdjdjsk

Headcanons

Gon: He gets taller than Killua (because I said so), he confesses first (even if Killua knew about his feelings for a longer time). He takes a liking to write his thoughts in a kind of diary of sorts so he can be more aware of his own feelings. He feels lonely every now and then and walks the island feeling like Killua’s at his side but he isn’t. He has freckles, he uses shorter hair. Nanika seems to like him a lot since she knows he loves Killua too. He got a lot more thoughtful and melancholic but he's still cheery and lively when he's really happy.

Killua: He lets his hair grow a bit till it reaches his shoulders and lets Alluka use him as an experiment subject to try on make up, hairstyles, etc. He sends Gon pictures of everything he sees that could be of interest to him and sometimes he buys him souvenirs he think Gon would “need”. He was initially scared to talk to Gon about his feelings but with time, he ends up wanting to confess but panics because he doesn’t find the perfect moment (or whatever that means) and Gon ends ups confessing first.

Killugon: They actually write and talk to each other. At first there was radio silence for a while, till Killua breaks it because he saw some weird plants he thought Gon would love to see. Killua always goes to visit Gon on his birthdays and gives him all the souvenirs he’s been saving in the last year. After the confession, they just talk for hours about their feelings and adventures together and there’s like 0 romantic advance because both of them are pretty restrained. But they figure it out later. Gon wants to take Killua on a date but Killua takes the lead this time and does his best to make the perfect date. When Gon finishes school, he goes to travel with Killua and his sisters. They love stargazing together and one of their main plans for when they start travelling together again is to go to different parts of the world where the night sky is unique. They still wake up to meditate and practice "nen" even if Gon can't use it

Oh man, I think this is already so long and I haven’t posted the fic recommendations...I’ll put them nonetheless

Fics recommendations

The "A Song in the wind" series (Pirate AU)

1. a song of the wind

2. when dawn breaks

3. the enchantment of vipers

5 Times Gon Was Jealous (5 times Gon was jealous in the canon)

Lead the Way (reunion fic)

Starcatcher (Fantasy AU where people can catch stars and stars have human form)

Stardust to Stars (sci-fi fic where humanity is conquering the stars and Gon still wants to find Ging)

I Want Something (Just Like This) (Madoka Magica AU)

Hands (set on episode 37)

star's gaze (Killua visits Gon)

sleep hides my swimming eyes (Hotarubi No Mori E AU)

Fingertips (Post canon)

hello, my old heart (post canon, focused on Killua's feelings)

bust in here with his life in your hands (post canon where Gon and Killua get injured)

hiraeth (They meet again in another life...Kinda)

time can't capture (post canon where they travel together)

If I'm A Star, You're The Moon (Gift exchange, so cute)

what was left behind, what we found again (magic AU, they were friends and fell apart)

the shape of longing (they miss each other. Post canon)

Call This Home (Killua's jealous)

Imaginary Friend (reincarnation AU, kinda dark?)

Airmail (reunion fic in which Gon kinda confesses accidentally)

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS 12 YEAR OLD (Modern setting AU where Gon and Killua met once and lose contact)

your x last x goodbye (Killua refused Ikalgo's help)

Perspective (Gon and Killua's relationship from other characters' POV)

Festive x and x Mischief (reunion of the CAA and Gon plotting with a mistletoe)

To Be x With x You (Post canon, long distance relationship)

Birthday x Blues (this is kinda platonic but adorable)

"The Chosen One (for you, it's your soulmate)" series

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8650522

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9278042

Fevered Lullaby (An AU where Leorio and Kurapika adopt Killua)

Smells Like Magic (Killua's a sorcerer and he accidentally meets Gon)

Time for Those Who Make Time (There's a festivity on Whale Island and Gon invited Killua and Alluka)

you're scattered glitter in the sky, you are the stars. (Post canon, gift exchange that makes you cry. I'm not lying)

Clearer x Skies (Retelling of the tanabata legeng ft. Killugon)

from joy to joy (nother christmas fic)

balter (Killua teaches Gon how to dance)

at last can grant a name (little Gon character study)

Against the Storm (Reunion fic. Killua's scared of change)

But Can You Sail With That Weight? (Post canon. Gon character study)

Silence and Sound (Gon's thoughts after Killua arrived to his fight with Pitou)

Accidents x On x Purpose (3 + 1 times they kissed)

You're a Wizard, Killua (lovely Harry Potter AU)

Couldn't x Say x Goodbye (Ikalgo couldn't save Killua, so he calls Gon)

hikariare (Killua's character study, so sad and sweet)

Come A Little Closer (Them cuddling, that's it)

lucky (Gon and Killua proposing to each other)

it’s by your side i make my home (Killua and holidays)

your heart's a mess (you won't admit to it) (reunion fic)

i am never without it (Killua collects souvenirs for Gon)

the heart's a heavy burden (Character study for the both of them, very moving)

call it what you want (Killua doesn't know what a crush is)

One year Killua and Gon exchanged letters, and two years they didn't (Penpals AU)

Everything I Wanted (Highschool AU, pls I cried like twice)

you know i love you, right? (Gon and the language of love)

Something Simple (Post canon, it's Killua's birthday and Gon wants to give him a present)

it's gonna take a while (Key moments to their relationship since the very start)

Under the mistletoe (Gon wants to show Killua the beauty of christmas)

divine magnets (Royal AU)

eyeliner woes (Killua wears eyeliner. Post canon)

The x Ultimate x Wingman (Gon can hear the narrator xD)

Swan Feathers (Swan lake AU, I love it)

this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart (Killua asks Mito for permission)

To Summon a Witch (Killua's a witch and Gon's a god and somehow they met in the human world)

you built me palaces out of paragraphs (Killua character study)

phantom pains (Gon's a ghost haunting Killua's apartment)

Help I got tired xD I'll put more later! I'm not even halfway done RIP

Why are people seeing this-

Anyways, if you want more recommendations, ask me I don’t mind and I’ve read so much killugon fics AHHDKSDJSK

#killugon #fic rec #fic recommendation #headcanon

[cheesy09]

Scorching Night

This oneshot was based off of Kiro’s Stardust Date, and takes place right after it (Because the angst in that date was immaculate 😩)

I know it's been a while since I've written anything, so I sincerely thank you guys for sticking around (´꒳`)♡

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

Pairing: Kiro x MC (third person POV) Word Count: 2,800 Genres: Romance, Angst (a lot of it T^T) Warnings: Super suggestive!

"The reward I want more right now... is you."

His soft words echoed in the back of her head, along with the memory of his scorching lips. The wrapping of an insatiable tongue around her own, the taste of him intoxicatingly sweet; so much so, that she wanted to drown in him.

She knows she shouldn't think about it too much, but that scene was engraved in her mind. Playing on repeat, over and over; like a broken record.

The burning touch, his breathless whispers, and the half-lidded gaze that carried a mixture of light and shadow in its unfathomable depths... 

She blushed at the thoughts running through her head. Especially since the subject of said 'thoughts' was now seated right next to her in the back of the car, their shoulders only mere inches apart. She could feel his warmth, even though they weren't touching, making the tiny space all the more suffocating.

Ever since they left the concert venue, Kiro hadn't said a thing. Nor did she, for that matter. If Savin was here he would have frowned once he noticed the odd silence between them, but he wasn’t, which she was grateful for because she didn't know how she would have reacted. And even worse, how she would've faced Kiro.

After all, she couldn't stop thinking of him; the way he kissed her, his lips burning against her own...

Or the way he called her name after that, his voice dyed in the colors of a fire; warm and passionate.

By no way was that their first kiss. Not by a long shot. But the urgency of his lips on hers had left her dizzy and short of breath.

She thought back to those warm, sultry nights—nights just like this one—when hands wandered a little too far, and makeouts got a little too intense. Moments when that velvety voice of his—his whispers and soft sighs—were hers and hers alone. The memories sent a shiver down her spine and she forced herself to stop thinking, lest she sailed into even more treacherous waters.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes.

Kiro was looking out the window, a hand tucked under his chin, seemingly lost in thought. The passing street lights cast a faint glow on his features, illuminating his intense and solemn eyes.

She couldn't tell what it was that he was thinking about, but he suddenly moved and let out a faint breath, running a hand through his hair, his long fingers raking through the silky blonde strands and exposing his clean forehead.

Then his hand slid down, following the slender curve of his neck to his chest, and he undid a button of his shirt. He let out another light sigh and fell back against the car seat, his expression carrying a hint of tiredness and frustration.

Seeing that, she frowned, and couldn't help asking "Is something wrong?"

Not expecting the question, Kiro's eyes shot in her direction. His blue irises darkened slightly, and then unhurriedly looked away as he instinctively slid his hand into his hair again, his posture languid and a tad bit sexy.

"Nothing, it's just..." his tongue—one that had been wonderfully exploring her mouth just a few hours ago—flitted out, and slowly wetted his bottom lip. "...really hot."

His voice was low, sitting on the edge of something. But his words seemed to have an added layer to them, hot and heavy, as if they were heated up by the burning tip of his tongue. She felt her heart rate speed up, and her face burn, the sizzling tension between them so thick, it was almost overwhelming.

"Yeah," she replied, shyly tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear, her voice so soft even she could barely hear it. "It is."

She shifted her sight then to look out the window, but she could feel Kiro's smoldering gaze on her, searing into her skin, which just made her cheeks grow redder.

She didn't know why, but ever since his declaration of love a few days ago, Kiro had been acting a bit differently than usual. His body language became more and more solemn with each passing day, and even those unwavering eyes of his got a tad bit brighter.

Like he had made up his mind about something.

What it was, she didn’t know. But what she did know was that whatever it was, it made her uneasy.

“Promise me, alright? Don’t forget me even if I leave.”

The words he had spoken then sounded grim and final, laced with so much yearning it took her breath away. 

Her heart ached. The Kiro she had been holding then had felt like mist. Like he could have evaporated the second she took her eyes off him. Distant and vulnerable. Lonely. And the fact that he was leaving the country tomorrow for a photoshoot made her even more anxious.

"Penny for your thoughts?" A tender voice rang out close, intimate. She turned.

She didn't know when, but Kiro had moved closer to her, approaching her with those brilliant azure orbs, closing the distance between them. His body heat radiated off of him in warm currents, sucking out the very air from the atmosphere until all she could breath and touch was him. He smelled of fresh pine and musk, invading her senses, making her ears buzz and her tongue fuzzy.

Just like the way he barged into her life, she thought. With his dazzling smiles and warm hugs, occupying ever nook and corner with his existence, stealing her mind, body and soul.

By God, she loved him. She loved him more than life itself.

She didn't know if she had been aware that their driver wasn't watching or if she just didn't care, but she leaned up and pecked him on the corner of his mouth, lacing their fingers together in the dark empty space between their bodies, as if filling a void. 

She felt possessed, her desire to get closer to him emboldening her to press further into him, breathing in his scent and burying her face in the crook of his neck. "Mmm... you smell really nice," she sighed wistfully.

She felt Kiro stiffen under her, and his grip on their interlaced fingers instantly tightened. She could almost the picture the turbulence in his eyes when he said "God, you are making this so much harder."

Kiro's breath was ragged and his voice dark and guttural, carrying with it something unspoken that made her heart thud and a fire stir in the pit of her stomach. She raised her head to look into his eyes and felt her breath catch at the storm that was brewing within them. They flickered down to her parted lips, and she suddenly felt hot all over.

"We’ve arrived, sir," a voice called from the front and they both instinctively pulled back, the spell broken. 

-

───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※─── 

-

The walk to the front door of his house had been a silent one, neither of them knowing what to say. Her mind was in a frenzy, and her heart was doing no better. All of her thoughts seemed to center around only one person.

"Just so you know," Kiro's voice broke through her thoughts, now back to its usual chipper, as he opened the door to his house. "I didn't really have time to clean up, so my place is in a bit of a mess. Don't say I didn't warn you."

She laughed, slightly relaxing under the usual, familiar atmosphere.

Kiro was a mystery in that sense. On one hand he could leave her all hot and bothered, desperately wanting his hands on her. And on the other hand, he could make her laugh and be free. "No worries. It's not like I'm any better."

"Oh, yeah! I still remember those dozens of magazines of me on your bed-"

"Kiro!" She whined, red with embarrassment. "I thought you said you would forget about that!"

"I made no promises," he replied, with feigned solemnness.

They walked into the house, their laughter ringing, and as soon as the lights turned on, she spotted the packed suitcases and travel bags in the living room, coldly reminding her of the fact that Kiro was still supposed to leave the very next morning.

She was used to it—constantly having to separate from him. Their jobs had required that of them. They would text and video call each other every day to fill in that void.

But for some reason, today was different.

Her chest felt tight, and she took in a shaky breath.

"I see you're all set for tomorrow," she remarked as Kiro discarded his jacket onto the sofa, leaving himself in only a black shirt and dark jeans. She had to stop herself from letting her eyes rove over the exposed skin of his well-defined collarbones, and instead, looked towards the side, her hands clenched into fists, teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

Stop getting tempted, she chided herself.

Kiro gazed at the baggage and laughed, almost imperceptibly. “Yeah. My flight’s at ten in the morning, so I had to pack early.” Saying that, he walked towards her, his familiar body temperature approaching her again.

His eyes were like blue flames, torching her soul, fanning the flames that never stopped burning. She swallowed, rapidly turning towards the door. Her voice sounded a little flustered. “Then I’ll take your leave. You should go and rest up for tomorrow.”

She was almost there, only an inch away, but before she could even touch the door handle, a scorching hand wrapped around her waist and her back was instantly pulled up against a firm chest.

She felt his breath before she heard him speak.

“Where do you think you’re going, Miss Chips?” he whispered, his voice shaded with sensuality. Dark and hungry. “You need to finish what you started.”

“What’re you talking about?” She sighed, automatically leaning back into his touch, her heart racing a mile a minute. “You’re the one who kissed me first.”

“Maybe,” he murmured. “But you’re the one who kept the fire going.”

His hand reached up above her and before she knew it, the lights were switched off.

“Kiro, you—”

“Stay.” His hot lips pressed against her ear and a shiver ran down her spine. “Please stay.”

Kiro’s arms had completely encircled her at that point, and she was distracted by the movement of his lips over her skin as they travelled from her neck, down to her bare shoulder. She couldn’t help but sigh blissfully in his arms.

“You may have to look for me next time.”

Suddenly, his words from earlier came crashing into her mind, like an unexpected boulder, snapping her back to reality. The unease was back, like a snake coiling around her heart, and she opened her eyes in a daze.

“Kiro....” Even in her own ears, she could hear the longing that filled that whisper. That drunkenness from before came over her again and she hooked a hand around his neck, softly caressing his nape. 

Kiro purred at her touch, and she turned her head to the side, her lips brushing his cheek in the process. “Don’t go,” she pleaded.

He froze for a second, body almost rigid, and silent... But then sighed the very next instant, spinning her around and pinning her up against a wall. She didn’t even have time to think before she felt his mouth latching onto hers.

The temperature instantly spiked up, and she felt her body ignite against him. Their lips moved in sync, expressing something that couldn't be put to words.

Pain, reluctance, longing, desire.

She didn't know why, but the way he kissed her made her heart ache.

Her hands were on the front of his shirt and she stroked the skin of his collarbones and chest, eliciting a soft groan out of him as he shivered. Kiro was lean, and firm; beautifully sculpted under her palms, and she felt her fingers travelling down, undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt. 

"Miss Chips...." Kiro sighed against her mouth, and hooked his arms under her legs, prompting her to wrap them around his waist. He put his lips over her eyes, nose, chin and throat, his kisses like silk, melting into her skin. She gasped when she felt him suck on the sensitive spot of her neck.

"Mmm... Kiro, c-can we go to the bedroom first?" she whispered, her legs itching to pull him closer. His black shirt was now creased and disheveled, slipping past his shoulders, the dark material offering a beautiful contrast to his white skin under the pale moonlight. 

He was gorgeous. So incredibly, undeniably gorgeous.

Her love, her light.

What would she ever do without him?

Kiro slowly pulled away from her neck, leaned up and kissed her again, softly this time, but still enough to steal away her breath again. It was tender and affectionate, but belied a passion that was on the verge of loosing control.

It made her heart skip a beat.

He laughed breathlessly against her lips, and his voice was hoarse when he spoke.

"Your wish is my command, my Miss Chips."

-

───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※─── 

-

Ten seconds. That’s how long it took them to get to the bedroom.

It was like a secret shared in the darkness. One that was littered with kisses and soft sighs. Charming and intoxicating, just like him.

As soon as she locked the door of his room behind them, his hand latched onto the back of her head, and he drew her into that sweet vortex once again.

Their bodies pressed together with urgency and their hungry mouths moved, as if trying to rob each other of breath. His unbuttoned shirt had left his chest exposed to her, and she trailed her fingers over his skin in a slow, sensuous drag, making him gasp into her mouth and press into her even harder.

As if in retaliation, his tongue slipped in between her lips and she moaned with pleasure at the sensation. She knew it. He was driving her nuts.

And yet, despite all of this, those daunting fears and anxiety over his departure never seemed to dissipate.

They tugged at her nerves, as if taunting her, causing her to kiss him harder, pull him closer.

The two had reached the edge of the bed by then, and she pushed him to sit down, straddling him in the process.

Kiro's eyes were half-lidded and dilated, a look of complete intoxication casted over his beautiful features. Golden hair framed his face and his cheeks were flushed under her fingertips. Looking at his perfectly messy appearance, a small bit of pride bloomed in her chest. She hoped she made him at least half as crazy as he made her.

She felt tears burn in the corner of her eyes.

Who was she kidding? She'd never be able to let go.

"Miss Chips?" She heard Kiro call when he felt her grip tighten over his shirt. She had been oddly quiet the past few seconds and he was starting to get worried. "Is something wrong?"

She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Don't leave," she whispered urgently.

She dropped another kiss on the side of his nose, caressing his cheeks. "Please don't."

One on the corner of his lips. She could hear the crack in her voice and the moisture gathered over her eyelashes was enough to tell her she was about to cry. "Don’t go somewhere where my hands can't reach you."

"M-miss Chips," Kiro pleaded, his whisper breathy and soft, his eyes barely open in the face of her intensity. They were so close, just a few centimeters apart, and their hot breaths entangled in the space between them.

"Even if it's a lie, tell me you won't leave me," she said, desperation clouding her mind. Her lips ran over the shell of his ear, trying to place feverish kisses over every inch of him.

She tried not to look at his expression. To see the pain and sadness that flashed in those deep sea blue eyes. Because if she did, she would break.

Kiro paused for a moment. A brief instance of hesitation. The only sounds were their rapid and heavy breathing.

"I won't."

His voice was low, barely even there. But hearing his words, her heart finally grew somewhat at ease. She finally closed the gap between them then, kissing him square on the mouth. Slowly, deeply.

She'd worry about the rest of those unfinished words in the morning. But for tonight, they had each other, and that was enough.

───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※─── 

Thank you so much for reading! For more of my works, please refer to my masterlist (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

#mlqc #mlqc fanfiction #mlqc kiro #kiro fanfiction #mlqc fanfic #kiro fanfic #oof that was one angsty end wasn't it? #NOW EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO DIG MYSELF A HOLE AND HIDE THERE

[popquizhot-shot]

You’re not him Chapter 1

" Hey Casey, how're you doing?" you walk in and ask the receptionist.

"Hi L/n, nothing much, just  reporting in some standard violations nothing more." Casey replies in his enthusiastic way.

"Nice, where's Hunt?"

" Oh, she's just patrolling, Mobius is in court, and he asked me to hand you all your assignments for the week" he replies, handing you a file.

"Thanks Casey, go on, I'll see you at lunch." you say walking towards your office.

Loki's pov

( The dialogues are not correct, cuz I'm writing out of memory)

"What is this? This never even happened, more lies, tricks." Loki shouts at Mobius.

"Not yet, not to you" Mobius replies, fast forwarding to where Loki and Frigga are talking.

" Then am I not  your mother" Frigga asks

Breath shuddering, Loki says, "You are not."

Tears filling her eyes, she then chuckles humorlessly, " You're so perceptive about everyone but yourself."

Mobius continues, " And then the dark elves attack Asgard and you think you lead them to Thor, but instead you lead them to.."

He fast forward to Frigga, being stabbed by a dark elf as Loki watches on in horror, tears forming in his eyes.

"W-Where do you have her, where is she?"

"You lead 'em right to her." Mobius softly says.

"No! Yo-you're lying! It's not true!" Loki accuses.

They argue back and forth until Hunter B-15 came in and asked to talk to Mobius.

And during that time, Loki like the mischievous scamp he is, escapes.

~~

After completing a few of your assignments, you decided to head to the cafeteria and have some lunch. They did have some bomb salads.

On the way there, you suddenly saw a glimpse of blue that looked a lot like the tesseract from the corner of your eye. Turning to your right, you saw nothing. Putting it down to your imagination, you sighed and walked on when you bumped head-first into Hunter B-16, a good friend of yours.

"Hey Hunt! Where have you been?" you asked smiling

"Hi Y/n sorry can't talk, there's a rogue variant in the premises and I have to look for him!" She replied hurriedly.

"Oh! Well let me help you, who is it?" you replied suddenly becoming serious.

Hunter hesitated to speak.

"Ask Mobius Y/n, he'll explain everything."  she said before running down the hallway.

Confused, you headed down the hallway, but not before spotting a mop of very familiar raven hair heading towards Mobius's office.

Eye's widening you chased after the guy only to run into Casey and  couple of other agents.

"Wha-Casey! What happened? Why the hell is everyone rushing around?" you asked him.

"I don't know Y/n, there was this guy who came and threatened to turn me into a fish or something and he took that blue cube thing and ran away!"

" Blue cube thing-blue cube thing? Wait you mean the tesseract?" you urgently enquired.

"Yes! That's what the thing is called!" he says

" Oh my god." you say and start running towards Mobius's office, where you met Mobius outside.

" Mobius what's happening?" you ask him.

______

Loki was in Mobius's office, just managing to escape the agents when he saw it again, the view of his mother, cold and dead, because of him.

Shuffling in his seat, he reached forward and pressed the 'fast-forward button'.

The projector skipped to Odin, talking with him and Thor.

"I love you my sons" Odin said before disintegrating into a pile of stardust that floated above to the heavens.

Click.

Now it was Thor,

"Loki, I thought the world of you." Thor said," I thought we were going to fight side-by-side together."

The scene cut to the brothers, along with the hulk and a woman in a Valkyrie suit. There was another woman with (h/c) hair, who was walking close to Loki, her face wasn't clear, but he could see she was close to him.

Click.

Now it was focused on the woman, he couldn't see her face, she was turned away from him, again all he could see was her mop of hair. She seemed to be talking to future-him.

Loki, promise me you'll stay alive, don't be stupid." she said to him

"Darling, we both know there's nothing to worry about, Thor and Valkyrie have a plan, we're not going to die, and who knows? Maybe after this we can go back to Earth, you have missed your family."

"Loki, I'm looking out for you here ok? Please stay alive. I don't what I'd do without you, you're way to important to me...and to Thor."

"Love, don't worry" he said kissing her forehead gently as if calming her down.

" Don't be stupid, and yes, we will mostly be going there and I'm looking forward to having a cheeseburger so don't ruin it for me by dying!"

"Ok, I won't die." He said

"Promise"

"I promise I won't die" he said chuckling softly.

Loki couldn't believe it, after all this time, all his failed relationships, he found someone to love, someone who loved him back and he started crying, this time tears of happiness.

That all changed the moment he clicked again,

This time he was being choked, choked by the Titan who appeared in his nightmares, the reason he was in this mess.

The entire time, he could also hear the girl's heart-wrenching screams.

" You..w-will never....be ...a-a.......God..." Future him choked out blood streaming out if his ears and eyes, face a chalky white, all while Loki looked on in horror.

CRACK! Came that vomit-inducing sound, causing him to turn away.

Turning back he saw Thor and the girl crying onto his chest.

The girl was screaming and sobbing her poor heart out and Loki's heart broke for her.

The ship exploded and the file came to an end.

Loki sat there, too shocked to do anything, after everything was finally going good he died.

He then started laughing humorlessly.

Glorious Purpose indeed.

~~

"Mobius what's going on?" you ask urgently to the man who was looking a little worried.

"Y/n I'm going to need you to stay here, you know the person inside, and you can see him, after I talk to him." he said looking guilty. He knew how much Loki meant to you and he felt really bad for what he going to do, but he needed the variant's help.

"But who is he Mobius?" you ask him, eyes wide and breathing heavy.

"Y/n, I'll call you in five minutes." he said, walking swiftly inside and locking the door immediately so you couldn't come inside.

"Wait the doors locked- what the hell Mobius!" you shout and start to work on picking the lock.

~~

" I can't offer you redemption, but I can offer you a chance, there's a rogue variant killing all our minutemen." Mobius said.

" And you need the God of Mischief's help to catch him. Why?"

" Because the variant is you."

At that exact moment you managed to pick the lock and deciding to be a dramatic bitch, you kicked the doors open

and that's when you saw him.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped in shock, you were expecting it but it still didn't make it any less surprising.

God, he looked good, and he also looked younger, meaning....this was him from 2012, the guy who escaped.

And that meant-

" Who are you?" he asked.

Oh shit

#loki #loki series #loki angst #loki x reader #tvaloki #tva casey #mobius my beloved