#silent laughter chap 3

[here-have-some-stories]

Silent Laughter: Chap 3

The next morning and the dream was still fresh in my memory. I tried to forget about it but to no avail. I hoped it would just forget itself. The first thing I saw made my heart skip a beat and my body freeze in terror. My curtains were ripped to pieces, like a knife had sliced through them, just like what had happened in my nightmare. I didn’t think it was a dream anymore. 

I peered closer at the window and noticed a small crack in it, in a way that looked like something had been drilling into it lightly. Or something sharp had been tapping on it repeatedly. The sounds of taps on the window from the night before filled my mind and I once again felt sick to my stomach. 

I left my room and saw the note from the door was gone now. Making my way up to my parents room, I saw that my mother was no longer hanging there. But there was plenty of evidence to suggest that she had been. The rope was still hanging there, looking like it had been ripped apart, but my mum’s body was gone. I looked down and saw my vomit from before was still there, and had stained into the floor. That was something to deal with later. My parents' bed was neatly made, not just my dad’s side, but my mum’s side too.

Then it hit me like a truck that I still didn't know where my dad actually was. He seemed to have just disappeared. I sunk down onto my parents bed, thinking about what  I could and should do about everything that was happening. Thoughts were whirling through my head. What was happening? How was this possible? Where did Dad go? Have I gone crazy? Am I actually dead and gone to Hell, and now this is my punishment? 

Eventually I came to a decision to investigate the windows. I saw the creature from the night before through my parents window, and the tapping on mine, so maybe they had something to do with what was happening. It didn’t make much sense, but it was the best lead that I had.

I looked at my window first, feeling the crack, thinking about how whatever had been tapping must have been pretty strong or sharp, or both, to get through the double paned glass. I looked at the grass beneath me to see if there were any signs of footsteps. Looking extremely closely, I noticed there were very slight dents in the grass, looking like a stub. It reminded me of how I always thought a pirate with a peg leg footprint would look. It didn’t tell me much though, so I moved onto my parents window.

Nothing could be found there, except for the same footprints, which were useless. I turned around and for the second time that day, froze in terror. My house's fence had always been one made of iron, spoked like a type of fence you would find around a graveyard. I had once seen a movie, where at the end of it a person got stabbed up through the chin by a tiny church spire that was in a miniature version of a village. The scene before me reminded me of that.

My dad was on top of the fence, skewered to it by the spokes protruding through his body. One through his chest, the other right through his skull, coming out through his eye. His blood splattered on the fence gave it a sort of rusty looking colour. 

Hesitantly, I walked closer to the body, and saw, sure enough, his other eye was missing, blood and the same black goopy stuff weeping from the socket. 

I noticed that there were people walking past, seeming to be coming one at a time down the street, but they didn’t do anything. For some reason, that scared me more than anything. I ran inside, terrified, confused and panicked, making it the second time that I abandoned a corpse.

At the time it escaped my mind that the people walking one at a time down the street were all the same person.

I ran into my room, faster than I had ever run before, and slammed the door behind me. I looked panicked around my room, trying to find something to help. My eye caught contact with my calendar. I picked up a pen and put an X through the dates for that day and the one before. I wanted to keep track of how long this stuff would be happening. I wanted to keep track of how long it had been since the tragedy of my parents death.

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[deliciousangelfestival]

The Lady - 3

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

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Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5, Chap 6 , -

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You slammed your hands onto the mahogany table, fixing Bucky with a disbelieving glare. "You want me to what?"

Bucky leaned back in his chair, a sly smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he looked you up and down. "I want you to put a small bomb into a cake."

You shook your head in disbelief. "This is the most insane thing I've ever heard."

Earlier, 30 minutes ago:

You hadn't anticipated any of this when you decided to pay Bucky a visit. Stepping into the nightclub he owned, you were met with a wave of pulsating music and flashing lights, a stark contrast to the quiet elegance of the estate.

"Your Grace, welcome!" Bucky's voice boomed over the crowd, drawing attention from every corner of the room. Rolling your eyes at his exuberance, you made your way up to the second floor, feeling eyes following your every move.

Bucky left the table where girls surrounded him, their eyes shooting daggers at you as if you were stealing him away.

Your thoughts echoed, 'I don't even want to be in the same room with him.'

As he approached you, Bucky flashed you a charming smile. "What do you think about this place?"

You shrugged nonchalantly. "It's nice, I guess."

He chuckled, leaning in closer. "The Duke's been turning a pretty penny with this joint."

"Really?" you replied, genuinely surprised.

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you. "Let's talk privately. I know you hate being here."

You followed Bucky to a quieter corner, the thumping bass of the music fading into the background as you settled into a booth. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and cigarette smoke.

You arrived at Bucky's office, the room exuding an air of power and authority. As he gestured towards a board adorned with photos and plans, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle in.

Pointing your finger towards the board, you narrowed your eyes. "Five photos, five explosions."

Bucky snapped his fingers in agreement, a smirk playing on his lips. "That's right."

You studied the images closely, your mind racing with the implications of what Bucky was asking of you.

"What exactly do you do?" you inquired, your voice betraying a hint of apprehension.

Bucky leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady as he met your eyes. "When the police, lawyers, and bribes don't work, that's where I come in."

Your stomach churned at his words, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "Private executioner," you muttered, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Bucky chuckled, his laughter ringing out in the dimly lit room. "You make it sound scary. But you're right."

Bucky's words sent a shiver down your spine, his tone oozing with confidence and determination.

"But rest assured, Your Grace," he continued his voice smooth yet laced with an undeniable edge. "I won't let you do the dirty work."

As Bucky explained the situation, his hands moved with purpose, punctuating each word. His eyes glinted with determination, a silent challenge in his gaze.

"You see, this Duke owns a nightclub in the same area as me," Bucky began, his voice low but intense. "He feels threatened by my club's success, so he's been causing unnecessary problems for me."

You furrowed your brow, trying to process the gravity of his request. "So it's about business competition," you mused aloud, your arms crossed defensively over your chest.

Bucky caught your hesitation, his jaw clenching slightly as he sensed your reluctance. "Look, I know it's a big ask," he conceded, his tone softening just a fraction. "But this Duke needs to learn that he can't push me around."

As Bucky dropped the bombshell revelation, his voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, his eyes darting around the room to ensure privacy.

"And there's another thing," he began, his tone grave. "This person we're dealing with... he's a predator."

Your stomach churned at the revelation, a surge of anger and revulsion coursing through you. Yet, amidst the darkness of the situation, a glimmer of relief washed over you – knowing that your actions would be directed against someone so vile lessened the weight of your conscience.

"What kind of explosion are we talking about?" you asked, your voice edged with determination, ready to take on the task.

He clapped his hand "Finally, we're speaking at the same language."

Bucky's reply came without hesitation, his gaze unwavering. "A cake that could explode."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his seemingly flippant response. "Stop joking, please," you retorted, your words laced with a mixture of disbelief and incredulity.

Bucky chuckled at your skepticism. "I'm not kidding," he insisted, his expression serious despite the playful tone in his voice.

He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he outlined his vision. "I want it to be dramatic. When the cake explodes, I want him to be thrown back, like in those superhero movies where the hero sends the villain flying into a wall."

With a theatrical flourish, he mimicked the sound effect. "Whoosh..."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his theatrics. "Whoosh, huh?" you repeated, mimicking a baseball swing with your hand.

Bucky grinned in response, playing along with your jest. "Yeah, whoosh," he affirmed, nodding in agreement.

As you watched Bucky's playful antics, a fleeting thought crossed your mind – if only you could open his head and see what was truly happening inside.

As the countdown approached its final moments, you and Bucky assumed your roles as waitstaff, blending seamlessly into the crowd gathered for the Duke of Langley's party.

Behind the bar, Bucky expertly mixed drinks while you diligently wiped down glasses, your eyes fixed on the unsuspecting target near the elaborate cake.

As the Duke began his speech, the guests gravitated towards him, leaving the bar momentarily deserted. Bucky stood closer to you, his presence looming over you as he leaned in slightly. "I still wonder why you wandered off alone to the U.S."

Bucky asked, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity, "Was the rumor true that your stepdad kicked you out?"

You shot him a sharp glance, mentioning your past hitting a nerve. Bucky quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Sensitive topic, I see. Just trying to make conversation," he offered with a shrug, his attention already shifting to his watch.

With a swift tug, he pulled you down to the ground just as the countdown reached its climax. His smirk was unmistakable as he whispered, "5... 4... 3... 2... 1."

And then, the explosion.

A deafening 'BANG' reverberated through the room, followed by startled cries and screams.

The force of the explosion sent a rush of wind through the room, causing glass to shatter and chaos to erupt. In the midst of the commotion, Bucky instinctively shielded you, his protective stance contrasting sharply with the panic unfolding around you.

As screams filled the air and guests scrambled for safety, Bucky couldn't help but chuckle lowly at the scene before him. Through the haze of smoke and confusion, he spotted the Duke of Langley sprawled on the ground, unconscious.

"Hahahaha," Bucky laughed, his amusement evident as he surveyed the aftermath.

But while he found humor in the chaos, you couldn't quite grasp what was so amusing about the situation.

For the next couple of days, you couldn't shake the memory of the Duke's unfortunate fate. Even as Hugo excitedly dragged you to a tennis tournament – a sport you cared little for, except when it came to Hugo's enthusiasm – you found it hard to muster any interest.

Seated in the VIP area, you watched the players enter the field without much enthusiasm.

"Something bothering you?" A deep voice interrupted your thoughts, and you turned to see Eddie beside you. Dressed sharply in a suit with a polo shirt underneath and sporting sunglasses, he smiled at you, his presence offering a welcome distraction.

You sighed, feeling the weight of recent events. "Yeah, just... recent events, you know?"

Eddie's smile faltered slightly as he picked up on your somber mood. "I heard about the nightclub incident. Quite the news."

Eddie's mention of the "sweet bomb" at Duke Langley's party caught you off guard, and you looked at him with a questioning expression.

He chuckled at your reaction. "That bomb reminded me of the time when you wanted to run away from the dormitory and decided to make a big scene."

You couldn't help but laugh. "You remember that?"

Eddie leaned in closer, his expression curious. "Is this related to Barnes?"

You nodded. "Yup. Seems like I've gotten myself into quite the mess."

Eddie's tone was somber as he addressed you. "Y/N, I didn't expect you to make a bomb for Barnes."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. "8 million pounds, Eddie. Even if I sold my kidney and heart, it still wouldn't cover it."

He chuckled softly. "If you want, I could make him go away."

But you shook your head, remembering Bucky's enjoyment amidst the chaos at Duke Langley's party. "It's better if you don't get near him. For your own good, for your mental health."

"Duke of Langley had it coming," you added, your voice tinged with resignation and defiance.

Eddie's lips curled into a wry smile, a glint of amusement flashing in his eyes. "That's one way to put it. But you've certainly made a splash."

You arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued by his cryptic remark. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Eddie's expression turned serious as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You've caught the attention of some dangerous individuals. Now everyone from petty thugs to organized crime bosses sees you as a valuable asset."

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[soloorganaas]

right back where we started from: chap 3

“You only become a werewolf if you’re bitten by someone and you only transform once a month, at the full moon.”

“Like tonight?”

“Last night, yes,” Sirius corrected automatically.

“They’re really dangerous though, aren’t they?”

Sirius pressed his lips together, trying to choose his words carefully. “Well, like any person or animal they’re dangerous in certain situations. When someone is in their wolf form then yes, their instinct is to attack humans – no different to a bear or a lion or any other predator. But when they’re in their human form, they’re just the same as you or I.”

It was a lie, and one Remus would probably hate him for saying. He was the wolf all the time, in some way; but Sirius had only ever been the one to truly understand what that meant. Protecting Remus – protecting anyone – involved a little lying sometimes.

“My aunt says there are werewolves who attack people when they’re humans, too,” one boy countered from the front row.

Sirius fought down the punch to the gut and accompanying roll of nausea up his throat. “Yes, there are – just like there are non-werewolves who attack other humans. It’s got nothing to do with them being-part creature. They’re just awful people who happen to be werewolves.”

Sirius paused, taking a surreptitious steadying breath and surveyed the class.

“That’s one of the most important things to understand in this subject,” he told them slowly. “That dark magic, dark creatures – they’re not black and white. There’s good and bad in all things. It’s the choices that matter.”

The class was silent.

“Does anyone else want to ask a question?”

“Professor… have you ever met a werewolf?”

Sirius smiled. “Yes. I have.”

“What were they like?”

Sirius was quiet for a moment, glancing away from the kids and around Remus’s classroom. This probably wasn’t a time to lie.

Sirius shrugged. “Well, to be honest they were pretty fit.”

The class burst into laughter and he gave them a cheeky, relieved grin.

read the rest here

#sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #otp: i'm mental about you #hp #right back where we started from

[delcakoo]

for soft hours can you please write jungwon sneaking into your house for some late night cuddles? ahh i feel like that would be so cute!!😭

CUTEEE i gotchu anon, ty for the req <3 !! 1.8K SOFT HOUR REQS ARE CLOSED !!

11:43PM — *tap tap tap* your peaceful slumber is interrupted by the sound of knocking against your window, eyes gradually blinking open as you take in the dark surroundings of your bedroom.

“who the hell..” you whisper under your breath, heart racing in fear as you read the time displayed on your phone. after taking another quick glance at your curtain-covered window, you rush to find your old baseball bat in the depths of your closet, being careful to stay as silent as possible just as another round of tapping occurs. you frown in determination. whoever the hell was being a creep outside your window had a whole other thing coming.

that thing being of course a half awake teen in an oversized shirt, shorts, and a giant metal bat that they haven’t used since third grade.

with cautious steps, you make your way to the window, taking a slow, deep breath before yanking it open and raising your weapon in preparation to—

“finally, it’s cold out here y’know.” your boyfriend tilts his head at your current state, bursting into a giggle. “jagi, what are you doing?”

there sits yang jungwon on a tree branch right outside your window at nearly midnight.

you stagger in utter bewilderment, dropping the bat and rushing to unlock your window and help him in. “jungwon! why— what the hell are you doing in a tree?! outside my house! you know my parents are next door, right?” you try to look stern, but you can’t stop the blush on your cheeks at the sight of his dimple and goofy smile as he leans down to peck your chapped lips.

“i missed you, didn’t wanna sleep alone,” he explains nonchalantly, jumping onto your bed without a care in the world.

you sigh, following his lead as you lie down next to him, faces only inches apart. “you’re crazy, what if my parents come in before you can sneak back out in the morning?”

the cat boy shrugs, “your mom loves me. now stop worrying and c’mere.” before you can protest, you’ve been swallowed by jungwon’s jacket as he pulls you right up against his body, chin resting on your head with slow, calm breaths. it was peaceful, tranquil for the next few minutes while the two of you simply hold each other lovingly.

right as your eyes finally start to close again, jungwon whispers against your forehead, “y/n?”

you hum lazily in response.

“did you really play baseball?” unbeknownst to you, a mischievous smirk was rising up the boy’s lips.

you yawn. “yeah, back in elementary. why?”

“good,” he snickers, “i was hoping you’d be good at catching.. ‘cause i’m starting to fall for you.”

you snap your eyes open, just in time to witness the idiot throw his head back in laughter at his own pick up line. “seriously? that was terrible, won,” you whine, turning away from him to hide your growing smile.

he only laughs more, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you back into him. “you loved it.”

you shake your head with a sigh, reaching down to intertwine his hand with yours at last. “whatever, goodnight won. for real this time.”

you feel something soft kiss the back of your head. “g’night for real baby, dream of me~”

#delcakoo #delcakoo requests #enhypen soft hours #enhypen timestamps #enhypen imagines #enhypen fics #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #jungwon x reader #jungwon drabble #jungwon x y/n #jungwon fics #jungwon imagine #jungwon drabbles #yang jungwon imagines #yang jungwon #yang jungwon scenarios #yang jungwon fics #yang jungwon fluff #yang jungwon x y/n #jungwon imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabble #enha #enhypen #engene #jungwon #enhypen scenarios #enhypen blurbs #jungwon fluff

[theunknownz1318]

As They See (Yandere Asylum Patient!Creepypasta x Doctor!Reader) Chapter 3: Tim

The lightbulb flickered every few seconds. It's glowing complexion dimming the room before brightening once again. It was almost maddening. Almost. Still, he's been through worse.

Tim leaned his head back against the wall. A leg was drawn up, pressed to his chest while an arm hung lazily over his knee. He hated it here. Because of the continuous screams and laughter, there was never a moment of silence. His headache throbbed in the back of his head. Tim reached up, rubbing the back of his scalp, trying to lessen the agonizing sensation.

God how he wished he had a cigarette. Something to take off the edge.

Now that he was forced back on to his medicine- medicine taken before the incident- he's been feeling more like his old self. Paranoid, restless, annoyed over every little thing. Yeah... the pills did wonders. He thought as he rolled his eyes, mindlessly licking his chapped lips. When was this new doctor supposed to be here anyways? He hated when people were late. If Slender found out he was late, he would have...

Nevermind that.

He's not here now.

Focus on the now.

Pale hands gripped the fronts of his loose brown hair, tugging lightly, eyes closing, silently begging the other patients to shut up. They were slowly driving him insane. How did it happen again? How did they all end up here? Tim guessed the police were getting more creative. The pastas gotten too cocky, thinking they can continue outsmarting everyone. Was anybody left back at the mansion? Did anybody get away? Was he freed from the Operator, or was this just a waiting period for his master's arrival?

Tim wasn't sure. He don't think he would ever be sure, not when he couldn't get a moment of silence to think.

He sighed, thinking of the woods. Thinking of how him and his friend Brian would sit behind the large trunks of trees, waiting for any intruders to enter their forest. He somewhat missed those days. Get past the paranoia and fear of disobeying the Slenderman and it wasn't so bad. He had a good position after all. Him, Brian, and Toby, they were the top three. The proxies to the man in the suit. He was untouchable.

But it wasn't always that way...

~

"Do you ever miss it?"

Tim stopped turning the twig in his hand. His attention drifted to the hooded figure beside him, a brow cocking under his doll-like mask. "What?"

Brian shrugged, tilting his head back. The stitched in frown hid any thoughts he was thinking. Tim simply waiting for the other man to continue. "I guess sometimes I wonder... Wonder what life would be like if we never had all that shit happen to us. Hell, maybe I would have gotten a girlfriend." Tim rolled his eyes. He could imagine Brian smirking under the black face mask. "I would have maybe decided to go back to school," Brian continued.

Where was all of this coming from? Tim wanted to ask. But he didn't. If he got carried away with his thoughts, he may try going back to his old ways... He may try disobeying the Slenderman again. Try running away.

Tim couldn't go through that pain and torture anymore. Not again. Not ever.

His hand mindlessly wandered to his chest, touching where his scars laid.

"I'm just saying, maybe in another life, if we had a chance, we could have-"

"Stop it," Tim cut him off. "Get those thoughts out of your head. If Slender found out you were thinking that way, you know what he would do." He warned. His eyes began to skim the vast forest before them. It was silent. Calming. Left too much time to think.

Finally, his companion sighed," yeah, you're right. It's safer if we leave those thoughts out of our heads."

They can think of these other possibilities in another life. For now, they must wait and obey. Head empty. Empty enough to take on orders without a thought. Just like the perfect puppet Slender wished to create.

~

"Tim? Hello?" The brunette blinked in shock, reeling back as a feminine hand waved in front of his face. The girl looked apologetic as she smiled delicately. "I'm sorry if I scared you. I came in the room a few minutes ago. I suppose you didn't hear me." She cleared her throat, taking a seat at his desk right next to the bed. "My name is Dr. Y/N L/N." Oh, how many times am I going to have to repeat that? The female thought to herself. 

Tim sat up a bit as he eyed the woman carefully. He took in each detail she had to offer. (Hair Length + Hair Color) pulled into a tight bun. Fair/Tan/Dark skin speckled with various moles/freckles. He glanced at her eyes last, taking in the subtle/bright (Eye Color) they were. She was rather attractive. Close, if not completely, his type. She would be fun to mess around with, no feelings involved before dumped.

Y/N bit her lower lip. A wave of nervousness went through her system as he stared intently. She shifted in her seat then cleared her throat, trying to distract herself from his stare. "Let's get started shall we."

Tim nodded silently.

"It says in your file you have been on medication since elementary. You have multiple mental disorders, including paranoia, depression, insomnia, and schizophrenia. About seven years ago you started a channel with some friends, Brian, Jay, and Alex. Only, you were chasing some myth. The Slenderman his name was?" She asked.

Tim flinched at his master's name. Still, he nodded once more.

With that, the female continued. "You went off after two of your friends died. You and Brian started "working" for this Slenderman." She folded her leg over the other. Y/N placed her folder down. "You know the Slenderman isn't real, right Masky?"

His eyes widened. Tim snapped his head in Y/N's direction. What did she say?

"Tim? Is that correct?"

He shook his thoughts away. He was losing it again. Soon they'll be bringing him his medicine to sedate him. He sighed," sure, whatever you say. It's not like anyone believes us anyways."

Y/N frowned. All the patients here were known to the media as creepypastas. They were a part of, almost, a cult working for the man in the suit also known as Slenderman or the Operator. They all had the same story. He found them. Made their life better. Took them away from the bullies and the abuse.

But none of it was real.

Right?

It was just an online fantasy some stranger made up for entertainment purposes. There was no Slenderman.

Y/N pushed a loose piece of hair behind her ear. She frowned. "Why do you think he exists? What separates him from your other illusions?"

Tim stopped and took the time to think. "I've been seeing him since I was a kid. He's been waiting for me. Ripening me to become the "perfect doll"'." He muttered, adding air quotes with his words. "I know it's not a dream or an illusion. I've seen him and so have my friends. We caught him on camera. We showed the world what we saw. How can four see the same thing at once? The exact same thing?"

She felt her mouth go dry.

No.

There

is

no

Slenderman.

"What was your channel called?"

She needed to see for herself. Part 4: https://www.tumblr.com/theunknownz1318/749385671508148224/as-they-see-yandere-asylum-patientcreepypasta-x?source=share

#creepypasta x reader #yandere creepypasta x reader #ticci toby #masky #hoodie #marble hornets #jeff the killer #ben drowned #bloody painter #puppeteer #slenderman #creepypasta

[missstratford]

Queen of my heart

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

A/N: chap 2 is finally here!! This one might a bit longer than the previous chap, so enjoyyy. Ofc Y/n and Andromeda being true queens in this one. Also a lil surprise for y'all cuz I promised smtg spicy in the last chap 😉😉

The dare was quite simple according to James, all he had to do was make the first person who walked into the great hall that morning to fall for him. "Oh give me a proper challenge Avery, half of hogwarts is already in love with me." He had scoffed the last night. As the gang of Gryffindors sat, gazing intently at the large doors, James wished Lily would walk by giving him another reason to court her. That's when you happened.

You walked into the great hall, eyes landing immediately on the warm pumpkin pasties at your table. You failed to notice the annoyance marring James' face as you sild onto your seat. "Oh mate, a slytherin" Frank guffawed. "Nevermind, it'll barely take me two days and you'll see her obsessed with me." James quickly recovered from his disappointment. "Isn't she the one from the library?” remus asked between mouthfuls of eggs. " Like i said," James stood up, stretching, "two days" He grinned and made his way to the slytherin table. Let the games begin.

"Good morning there sunshine." You heard a foreign voice next to you. Choosing to ignore it, you continued to read your book. "Oo pumpkin pasties, I lo-" You swatted their hand away from your precious breakfast, "Don't. Touch. My. Breakfast" You faced the vexatious human. Your anger morphed to surprise as you saw it was the same boy from the library. What did he want now? "You? What are you doing here?” you asked, brows furrowing in frustration. "Ah-you see, since the time you threatened to hex me, I've not been able to get you out of my mind" He said as his gaze fell to your lips. "And i just wanted to-" "No" you waved your hand stopping him "it's no to whatever you're about to say." You turned back to Andromeda hoping he'd leave you alone. "Oh I assure you, you wouldn't want to miss out on a date with me, I mean, I am James Potter." He said it like it was a fact. How dare he. Your blood boiling, you stood up to face him. "You conceited prick." You spat, now the entire great hall was watching. "You think you're so high and mighty do you? Well guess what jake Or whatever your name is, I don't care. To be honest, no one does. So take your sorry arse away from me. Now" You ended. It was silent in the great hall. Everyone waiting to see how James would take the rejection. "Well-um- no one-you know what? It doesn't matter." James stuttered as he stood up, cheeks heating with embarrassment.

"James- 0, Sirius-1, Avery-3, Me and Frank stand at 2 points." Adrian read out, "no, that's not right." James said, as he played with his snitch. "It is, the slytherin rejected you remember?" Frank said, holding back his laughter. "No, I mean," James sat up, a frown on his face, "according to the rules, each has 2 weeks time to finish their dare, I do too. So it's not counted." He looked up at the boys. "Alright, we'll be watching you Potter. All the best trying to get her to like you mate." They walked out the common room leaving James, sirius ,remus and the sputtering fireplace.

"It's not about the dare is it?” Sirius asked, looking at James, he knew his friend well enough to know what he was thinking. " She didn't even recall my name Padfoot." James said staring at the fluttering snitch. "Prongs, it's not right to be this self obsessed you know. There are people in hogwarts who don't know you, no surprise there." Remus said matter-of-factly. "You don't get it moony. She rejected me in front of entire hogwarts. Lily might have heard of it already!” James argued worriedly. " She's friends with your cousin isn't she padfoot?” he looked at Sirius desperately, "get her to slip in a love potion or something. My reputation, she's ruined it!” James stood up, pacing in front of the duo. "Ah, me and Andromeda don't really talk and it's not that life threatening prongs, relax" Sirius tried his best to make James feel better but all he received was a grunt. "I caught the gryiffindor team laughing when I turned my back today, don't pretend like the two of you didn't catch that." James said defeatedly " Well what now? " Remus asked. "Now, I make her desperately fall in love with me." James answers, "let's pretend that this does happen, what then?" Sirius chimes in, "then dear padfoot," James says with a malicious grin, "I humiliate her just the way she did to me."

~

"I hate him!" You ranted as andromeda watched. "I knew he was a no good when I caught him bullying snape. I mean, snape isn't the best slytherin but that doesn't mean he should be bullied." Andromeda added. "And he wanted to ask me out? The last thing that'll ever happen is me falling for him." You had made up your mind.

~

Bonus (what to expect later into the story) :

He kissed your pulse point, "Do you still hate me?" He whispered. "Yes" You sighed, eyes closed. "How about now" He gently bit your earlobe. "Very much" You stifled a moan. "And now?" He said against your lips as he traced his fingers on the curve of your spine. This boy was just on the brink of devouring you.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter x regulus black #james potter #sirius x you #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius being sirius #sirius x lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #sirius orion black #james & peter & remus & sirius #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x remus lupin #marauders x y/n #marauders x you #marauders x reader #marauders #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x sirius black #lily evans #slytherclaw

[staticl0ve]

Dollhouse - Chap 4 - Connor x Fem!Reader

Pairings: Connor/Female Reader Rating: Explicit/NSFW 18+ Story (AO3): [ Read on AO3 ] Chapters 5/5 (Tumblr): [ Chap 1 ] [ Chap 2 ] [ Chap 3 * ] [ Chap 4 * ] [ Chap 5 ] Words: 3.7k Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, PnV, mild breeding kink, so mild Summary: Elijah’s in need of a house sitter and what better than asking his step sibling to water the plants and run a few tests. After all, how hard could pressing a few buttons on a tablet be? Alternative AU.

Chap 4 - Beauty and the Machine*

Tonight was a night for celebration, a party to toast the man of the year: Elijah Kamski and his company’s fifth anniversary. Heels clacked over marble flooring as guests of a gala passed through white Grecian pillars. Above the crowds was a domed ceiling with painted scenes and gold moulding, framing an equally impressive sparkling chandelier. Mouthwatering appetizers wafted by in the arms of waitstaff dressed in black and white formal. People clamored around tiny tables covered in delicate, glittery cloth. A string quartet played a whimsical classical song as champagne flutes clinked.

“Cheers!” the party goers all cried out in unison.

You joined them silently, raising your glass to the air and then to your lips. The champagne was a good vintage, the sharp tang fizzing across your tongue. Hidden away from the crowds, you were happily situated on a balcony above the noise. A railing supported most of your weight while you nursed your drink, the best part of tonight. Your beaded gown felt tight, too revealing in places and your heels taller than you’d liked.

You wanted to go home.

Too much of the evening was spent catering to the egos of guests who were enchanted by your presence. All of the more than eager to use you as stepping stone to Elijah.

The attention was endless.

Some tore you apart with their eyes, scrutinizing every inch of your appearance, only to go soft when they realized the woman in Elijah’s arms was his sister. Their smiles were polite, the light never quite reaching their eyes.

“I didn’t know Kamski had a sister!”

“Stepsister,” you corrected them.

It was one guest after the other, some more familiar than they should be. You caught the eye of a pair of older millionaires seeking to expand their family empire.

“Oh, you pretty little thing, you know we’ve got a son…”

Sisyphus wouldn’t survive an evening in your shoes.

“Hey, so hear me out. Me and my buddy have this app…”

“Excuse me, I need to go powder my nose,” you interrupted.

Did anyone still call it that in this decade?

The gentleman you were speaking to blinked and politely dipped his head. “Of course…!”

It was a wonder you managed to sneak up the grand staircase and duck behind a curtain to your hiding spot, too tired and drunk to humor anyone else. The curtain behind you rustled and your nose caught the scent of Elijah’s favorite cologne long before he spoke. He always had an uncanny ability to locate you no matter where you ran off to.

“Are you enjoying the party?” he asked.

“S’fine,” you shrugged.

He leaned over the railing, a set of icy blue eyes scanning the lively party below. Someone had the idea to start a conga line, their laughter and drunken slurring of the words “conga, conga, conga” drowning out the delicate string instruments.

“They won’t bite,” he said while stealing your champagne flute away.

“Hey—!”

He fixed a playful look at you, adding a small shake of his head. You could hear the inaudible “tut-tut.”

“Go,” he coaxed. “Have some fun, try the conga line. Live a little.”

“I did,” you stubbornly resisted. “I got bored when one guy started talking about his fleet of yachts.”

You tried to snatch your glass back but Elijah was quick, rotating his wrist to catch it in his other arm.

“Just let me know when you want to go home,” you huffed.

He hummed and you followed his gaze to a pair of models down below. One waved and the other winked.

“Don’t wait for me. There’s a car outside whenever you’re ready to go,” he said.

As quickly as he appeared, he vanished behind the curtains, the gentle swishing the only evidence that he even came to see you.

Oh.

He took your champagne, too.

Reluctantly, you descended the ornate staircase and dodged dancing guests to the find the shortest path to a waitstaff serving alcohol. You tripped on a wet spot, or someone’s dress, either way, the world was suddenly spinning faster than you could keep up with it.

A hand grasped your wrist, tugging you gracefully into a firm chest. A navy suited arm braced your shoulders and you followed the pressed collar of his suit past his white linen shirt and black tie to a…freckled face.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Hello, Prince Charming.

“Yes…” You think you said it or mouthed it. The floor and ceiling tilted and bent in your vision as you scanned the decorative paintings…the gold trim…the chandelier. You could see yourself lost in the sea of swirling dancers as if you were still standing at the balcony. He spoke again and your focus warped back to his shirt and tie.

“Do you dance?” he inquired with a smile.

You scoffed, suddenly more sober than you were earlier.

“Actually, n—”

It was a mistake to look up, finding yourself lost in a pair of honey brown eyes. There was no malice behind them, just curiosity and a glint of amusement.

“…Ngh—yeah. Sure. Why not?” you answered.

A light tune, Rêverie by Claude Debussy, began. He took a cue from the changing music and led you across the dance floor. One of his hands slipped behind your back while the other held your arm out to guide you in a series of turns. Your hips were attached by a pair of magnets, flowing left, right, forwards, and backwards. His cologne was present and not overwhelming, a light masculine scent with a sharp metallic tinge. A man made of metal or a fake tie clip?

You spun with him, the pace of the song picking up fast enough that you could feel a breeze tickle your neck. When you took a step back, he followed, pushing his leg flush to your hips. There wasn’t a moment where you couldn’t feel him somewhere on your skin, especially when his palm on began inching down from your shoulders. Strong, firm fingers pressed into your skin, mapping out one bump to the next along your spine.

“That’s funny,” he said while dipping you.

You gasped at the unexpected loss of your center of gravity, gripping his arms for balance. He held you like you weighed nothing and brushed his nose over yours, his exhale heating your lips as he laughed.

“W-What’s so funny?” you stammered.

“Have you seen the tree they’ve brought in?”

His head shifted and you turned to find a large cherry tree had made a home in the center of the room. Guests stepped in perfect time to the music, forming a swirling formation right below the falling foliage.

“How did that get here?“ you gasped.

He smiled, all sunshine and dripping with honey. “You should look more closely at it when you have a chance.”

Your face twisted in confusion. This man was crazy and yet…you glanced back at the tree and it looked closer or bigger than than it was before. Dancers parted, revealing a sizable burl in the otherwise perfect bark. The corners of his mouth dipped as warm fingers caressed your cheek.

“When you dream…it’s not always this pleasant, is it?” he asked.

You breathed out his name, even though he had not given it yet.

“No harm will come to you as long as I am here,” he promised while bringing your hand up to his lips for a kiss. “Sleep.”

-

What were dreams if not a mosaic of memories and the subconscious working together to create mind bending, nonlinear narratives? On nights when you could not rest, were the sheep you counted covered in wool and prancing over your pillow? Or were they powered by electricity, spinning around like figurines in a carousel?

When you woke, it was one of those coming back into your body experiences where you could only feel one limb at a time. First, it was the arm trapped beneath your pillow, then the other which was tangled in someone else’s limbs. Connor’s hand loosely gripped yours against your chest, the synthetic skin warmer than usual and faintly buzzing. A firm chest covered your back, his weight a welcome comfort.

Through android instinct or sheer luck, he sensed something amiss, choosing to greet you by laying kisses down the column of your neck. A leg pressed between yours, the android tangling himself around you like a blanket. He let go of your hand to wrap an arm around your middle as his other threaded into your hair.

“Bad dream?” he asked.

Through the thick and groggy haze of waking up, you noticed it instantly, a change in the endlessly evolving machine. Connor did not seem to tire, always sounding alert and refreshed no matter the circumstance. Today was different, his voice was lower, rough and scratchy like his vocals cords were warming up.

You brought the back of your hand to rub your eyes. “No, at least…I don’t think so. I tend to forget my dreams when I wake up.”

Rolling away from the sunny side of the bed, you snuggled yourself back into his embrace. Your palm pressed flat on his chest. A light vibration from his hardware rumbled like a cat’s purr. Thoughtlessly, you leaned in to peck soft kisses down the notch between his collarbones and to the center of his chest where the buzzing was it’s strongest. His breath hitched when you flicked your tongue in a swirl over the skin. It was nice seeing a machine stutter from such a small act. Everything you did to Connor seemed to bring him some form of easy pleasure. Regardless of his purpose, it still delighted you to know you could provide something in return.

“I think it was a nice dream,” you concluded and rose back up to kiss his lips.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he replied while nuzzling his face to yours. One part of his anatomy was eager enter the conversation, prodding at your stomach in a not so subtle reminder of its existence. You made a noise caught between a laugh and a gasp, your brain still shaking off the fog of dreamland.

He sprung on you regardless, covering your body with his. Your back sunk into the mattress, hair twisting beneath your head. The kiss was hot, wet and sloppy, his lips claiming yours with a thrilling desperation. Your mouths were a stage, your tongues wrestling to and fro. You cheated, nipping his tongue gently, a victory short lived when he pulled away in surprise. The softness was gone, honed by a sharp, never ending hunger brimming over the pupils of his eyes.

“May I have you?” he pleaded in a tone that implied he’d been patiently waiting all night. As if you needed more convincing, his fingers whispered between your thighs, tracing faint lines up your skin to the bundle of nerves below.

Your legs were falling apart before you could get the words out.

“Yes…yes, Connor.”

The bedsheets tugged upwards with him as he rose up to slot his hips between your legs. His knees spread out, pressing against the meat of your thighs, pushing them further apart. You couldn’t hold back a gasp when he bucked his hips, the cold tip of his wet length gliding over your warm folds. Your moan was crushed between his mouth as he ground into you with whimpers of his own.

“S-so…good,” he slurred, already drunk on your warmth.

It was agonizing when he grazed your entrance, only to proceed to slip up past it, the blunt head of his cock teasing your swollen bud repeatedly. He continued moving in slow seesawing motions, the friction pulling a tight knot in your abdomen. A bow would snap if it held the same tension you had in your spine. You were more than ready, on the verge of begging.

Maybe Connor didn’t know that he needed to put it in.

“Connor,” you huffed out, biting your lip to fight a smile. Perhaps, you’d have to show him how the birds and the robot bees worked.

His eyes snapped to meet yours, the brown lost behind the squint of a guilty and self-satisfied smile.

“Preparation is important,” he answered sheepishly, completely ignoring how your hips canted to change the course of his next thrust. How were you expecting to outsmart machine precision? You writhed with a helpless moan.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he whispered, staying completely still above you. “I…I could do this forever.”

“Con…”

The rest of his name was cut off by his lips covering yours as he lined himself up to you, the tip of him nudging gently at your core. He almost entered you when his face pulled away with a gasp. Pink dusted over his cheeks as his hips hovered over yours. Two strong hands cradled your face on the pillow.

“I…I want to see you. When I…when…” he muttered, distracted and overwhelmed already.

You were a little worried actual sex might break him, but if you were being honest with yourself, you were in no better shape. Sweat beaded down your back as you wiggled beneath him to wrap your legs around his narrow waist. Your nails scraped into the back of his neck and while you couldn’t dent or break his skin, he got the message.

Taking the lead, he tilted his hips, easing himself slowly into you. His optics moved in tiny fluttery movements, like a camera tracking a target as he studied your face. It would have been unnerving if it weren’t for the loud, open mouthed moan that erupted from his lips. He was barely in you, the tip of him stretching and holding you open. Even with all of his preparation, it was a slow process. His hips pulled back, coating himself in more of your slick and diving further in a second attempt.

“You’re s-so tight…” he whined as the blue on his head shifted red.

Your hands threaded through his soft hair, kneading until his eyes pinched shut.

“You’re doing so well,” you spoke, pressing a kiss to his pink cheeks as he melted, moaning softly and pushing deeper.

He propped himself up onto his elbows, tilting his head down to watch him disappear inch by inch until your hips fused together. The act alone seemed to have wiped him out as his head fell to your chest.

“I…you…you feel so…s—“ he said through a wall of static, his biocomponents working overtime, clicking and whirring in his chest.

You palmed his cheek, thumb drawing circles on synthetic flesh as bits of it turned white to your touch. “I know…you feel amazing, Connor.”

He was still whining, panting and cycling air while his forehead rested firmly against your sweaty chest. Slowly, he eased out and back in, mouth agape as you let him claim you again and again. Once your calves tightened around his waist, he got a little braver.

One second you were mostly on the mattress and the next, his arms wrapped around your lower back to lift you off the bed. Your knees pressed to your chest and all you could do was place your arms over his shoulders and cling to him. He moved with a calculated intensity, keeping you on the edge with cycles of deep, angled thrusts. You didn’t have to worry about damaging his ears as you cried out loudly from underneath him. He experimented with slower and deeper thrusts, discovering that he could savor the heat of your core, the way you pulsed and molded to him. His eyes fluttered and rolled as he finally found the adjective he’d been struggling find.

“P-perfect,” he gasped. “You feel…perfect.”

He held you open like a man with all the carnal and animalistic intention of breeding a willing female. No matter how human he seemed, Connor never failed to remind you that he didn’t exist on a food chain. Mechanical noises emitted from his voice box, sharp and clear even while his mouth was shut. The flesh tone vanished from his hands, smooth, white plastic digging into your spine. He did not sweat nor did the momentum of his hips falter. He was a machine moving with a purpose.

And you loved it.

“Fuck, Connor!”

You were close and he could sense it. The familiar but still alien sensation of his rubbery padded fingers working it’s way between your legs. A deep, guttural sound ripped out of his mouth—possessive and almost demanding.

“Let me…let me see it. I want to see it,” he breathed harshly.

At some point, his hair had fallen over his eyes, blackened orbs glinting between strands of brown hair with an unwavering, singular focus.

Ah, to be the sole affection, the apple of an android’s eye.

The covers draped over his shoulders like a dark cape, rustling down his back with every harsh thrust. You were overheating, writhing with your eyes shut in a sauna of your own sweat. Connor was having none of it, his voice spoke without interference, clear enough to feel like you could hear it in your head.

“Look at me,” he said slowly and calmly, stretching the three words to convey the depths of his devotion.

You tried, bleary eyed while drawing in short gasps of air. A pressure on your back pushed your chest flush with his. His lower jaw trembled as he silently mouthed words he wasn’t sure he could say.

“I…I want to remember this…in case…I don’t see you again,” he stammered.

With the high functioning part of your mind positively fucked out of the universe, you weren’t sure what prompted you to reply, but you did.

“You w-will….Ah—you will!”

It seemed to mollify him, a sweet smile dimpling his cheeks. He laid a kiss on your lips, his grin still present throughout.

“Then…cum for me. Please.”

You could feel him all around you, a cage of plastic that knew your body better than an old lover. Initially, his presence was as persistent and inconvenient as the falling snow, blanketing you with no end in sight. Long gone was his formality and your doubts about a machine companion. He was an oddity, awkward at times and beguiling when he didn’t mean to be. Connor was the only one of his kind, beckoning…begging, pleading for a companion. From one lonely soul to another, it would be cruel to deny him.

You heard him ask again, a string of pleas from a gasping, blushing face. He had propped himself on an elbow, leaning most of his weight to one side in order to cup the back of your head. Your muscles knotted around him and you think that might be what would break him as his LED bled red once again.

“Yes, let me—” he groaned, driving his hips in more wildly. “Let me feel it.”

With a shudder, your peak came and lingered in a plateau of weightlessness until Connor nuzzled his hips to yours and with a nip at your shoulder, he followed suit. He was an incoherent whimpering mess, hot exhaust burning onto your skin as he twitched and throbbed. There was a horrid mess between your thighs as the android’s hips never really stilled, too busy watching in awe as his release dripped out and plugged back in with a forward thrust.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, already recovered before you were. You moaned softly, still wound up from earlier. A proud smirk tilted up his lips. “I may have been a little excited. You must be drenched.”

“I wonder who’s fault that is,” you replied dryly with a grin of your own.

You brought your hands to tuck a curl that dangled over his eyes. His brows dipped and a small pinch pushed them together as his smile faded, the gentle intimacy replaced with a bittersweet energy. The blankets had slipped off and the cool air blew over your damp skin. He sat up so your legs could collapse onto the bed and came back to press his chest against yours. A weak moan left your lips as he slid back into you with little resistance, keeping still for the moment. Surprisingly, nothing ached, except for the little strings tugging at your heart.

“Just…one more,” he asked.

Your palm pushed at his chest and his head only tilted at you in confusion. 

“Lie back,” you coaxed.

He wrapped his arms around you and rolled over, somehow managing to not slip out of you. You took your time, slowly grinding your hips down as he shuddered and moaned, letting you use him for your end. He seemed blissed out, head buried in a soft pillow, eyes and mouth half opened. The new angle was somehow deeper and hitting a new sweet spot as you rocked against him.

Without breaking eye contact, you placed a hand beside his head, holding most of your weight on it and with your other hand, stroked his cock as it left your core. You hovered over him, pulling him out to the tip while loosely twisting your wrist, knowing full well he could grip your hips and change the pace. Instead, his hands roamed up your sides, gently kneading your breasts. He rolled and pinched a nipple, smirking slightly when you whimpered and clenched around him. As crowded as it was down there, he managed to wrestle his hand through to stroke your clit.

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes like he knew something you didn’t.

“C-Connor! That’s not f-fair!” you cried out as his fingers buzzed. Your legs wobbled, collapsing back onto him until he was buried to the hilt. His other arm came to stroke your back, or hold you in place, either way, he wasn’t moving from beneath you. His fingers wouldn’t let up, circling your nerves as the intensity of the vibrations grew.

“Oh—f-fuck!” you cried out, fisting the sheets until your knuckles went white.

What you didn’t realize was that his delicate sensors could be tuned to different sensitivity levels, and with your next cry, as another climax washed over you, he could finish from that alone. He looked marginally apologetic when you recovered.

“Was that satisfactory?” he asked sweetly. 

Your nails bit into his thighs and your eyes rolled into another dimension. He probably didn’t mean to sound so cheeky.

“Yes, it was,” you replied. You gently stroked up his legs, thumb catching on all the divots in his body—the dip of his hip bones and the valleys between sculpted muscle. Your head came down to rest on his chest with the side effect of shifting your hips over his. His cock twitched in interest and you wondered if he was related to a certain rabbit branded battery.

“Please,” Connor urged, already in the act of rolling you over onto your back.

“One more and then we shower,” you laughed.

“One more,” he repeated.

One last tumble in the sheets before the day went on and Connor’s destiny would be out of your hands, left to the unknown.

It felt too soon for goodbyes.

#my writing #detroit become human #dbh fanfic #reader insert #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #connor x reader #connor rk800 x reader #dollhouse

[tourdion]

Podcast Title: "Three Bean Salad - Episode: The Cohen Conundrum"

Intro Music: Quirky Jazz with a Dash of Mischief

Host 1 (Henry Paker): Greetings, salad aficionados! It's Henry Paker here, your salad sommelier.

Host 2 (Mike Wozniak): And I'm Mike Wozniak, the bean buffoon.

Host 3 (Benjamin Partridge): And I'm Benjamin Partridge, the legume luminary. Today, we've got a salad sensation for your auditory taste buds – the perplexing world of Leonard Cohen.

Segment 1: "Cohen Quirks"

Henry Paker: So, chaps, what's the weirdest thing you've discovered about Leonard Cohen?

Mike Wozniak: Did you know he lived in a Buddhist monastery for years? I can't even manage a weekend without Wi-Fi.

Background: Laughter Mix

Segment 2: "Culinary Cohen Creations"

Benjamin Partridge: I did some digging, and it turns out Cohen had a peculiar fondness for artichokes. What do you think he'd pair them with?

Henry Paker: Knowing Cohen's taste for the poetic, probably a balsamic reduction with a side of existential reflection.

Background: Playful Banter

Segment 3: "Cohen Cover Culinary Chaos"

Mike Wozniak: Alright, lads, if Cohen covered a cooking show, what do you think it'd be like?

Benjamin Partridge: Picture this: Cohen narrating the slow, dramatic process of caramelizing onions. A symphony of sizzling and soulful poetry.

Background: Imaginary Cooking Show Music

Segment 4: "Bean Ballads"

Henry Paker: If Leonard Cohen wrote a song about beans, what do you reckon it'd be called?

Benjamin Partridge: "The Ballad of the Beleaguered Bean," a melancholic ode to a legume lost in a sea of salad greens.

Background: Humorous Bean-themed Imagery

Segment 5: "Cohen Comedy Challenge"

Mike Wozniak: Time for the Cohen Comedy Challenge! Tell me your best Cohen-inspired bean joke.

Henry Paker: Why did Leonard Cohen invite beans to his concert?

Mike Wozniak: I don't know, why?

Henry Paker: Because they always know when to 'bean' silent!

Background: Laughter Eruption

Outro:

Benjamin Partridge: And there you have it, folks – a Cohen Conundrum for the salad-loving soul. Until next time, keep tossing those beans and unraveling the mysteries of musical maestros.

Henry Paker: Stay tuned for more salad shenanigans and bean banter. Cheers!

Outro Music: Whimsical Fusion of Bean-inspired Jazz and Cohen Classics

#three bean salad

[casuallivi]

Flower and Shadow (spy au) 

Chapter 3

Summary: When you’re stuck in a men’s world, being strong is your greatest weapon.

Word Count: 2386

Chapter 2

The Invitation

Tuesday. Somewhere in Hewn’s underground.

“Chose.” She said with confidence.

“Left eye.” He answered amused.

The sound of fake conversation, child laughter and mechanical wireline mingled together. A fluorescent light blinking on the far corner of the left wall. Fifteen mannequins, dressed as regular civilians, were swinging from left to right, back and forth. A wave of nausea rolled down her bones, her vision wobbling. She closed one eye taking a deep breath, waiting for the ringing in her ears to cease, her brown orb following the fake plumber zigzagging between the other targets, his blue overall coming in and out of focus. She pulled the trigger.

BANG!

Shadow sucked his teeth when a nun-mannequin passed right in front of the plumber, the sound of a bullet hitting the metal chap echoing from the 75 yards down. The glowing timer on the wall chimed, indicating their hour was up. “Well, you tried.”

Elain took her cap off, quirking her brown at him. “Tried?”

Elain preferred sharp and silent weapons rather than loud guns. She liked knifes that sliced through skin soft as butter, rings with pop-up blades for quick multiple stabs in the jugular, honshu push daggers to be hidden in her boots, allowing her to throw knifes and hit targets at a distance. When she was independent, Elain couldn't use her blades regularly or someone could learn her pattern, so she switched between knifes, gun, rope, hands. Now that she was a full plagued agent, she didn't have to worry about sending a message, for sending a message was part of her job.

She delighted in the subtle way his eyes changed when the mannequin was in front of them. A perfect hole through the left eye. Shadow whistled.  

“Nice shoot.”

“I know.” The smile didn’t reach her eyes, even though she was pleased with the compliment. “Everything good for tomorrow?”

“He’s expecting us in his vacation home. Insisted we stayed in his family villa.”

Azriel perched his hip against the table, watching Flower disassemble the gun with mastery, gloves coming off next. He gestured for her to come closer and she stepped in front of him, spreading her arms to expose the lateral straps of the bulletproof vest – one she could easily take off by herself. Not that she would. After that his hands found their way to her waist, turning her around, undoing the messy ponytail in attempt to relieve the pain her head. Sighing against his ridiculously good attention, Elain rested her back on his front undoing the first two buttons of her blouse seeking to ease the suffocating feeling. He held her forearm, two fingers landing on her pulse point, eyes focused on the watch on his wrist. “How did you know?”

Elain had popped four pills before entering here, hoping the double dosage would help the medicine to kick in quicker.

“The trigger trembled,” he answered once he was done counting. “Fitty-seven.” He commented worried about her weak pulse, then, “you’re blond,” more casually. He picked her up, her legs instantly closing around his middle as he marched to the elevator.

“My wig almost fell off last time. I’m going full ginger before we get back.”

For the past two months, Mr. and Mrs. Auburn have been making their names known, the elusive European couple emergence causing quite a stir amongst New York finest. For them, Jurian Auburn was a notorious entrepreneur and investor, who was finally back in society after mourning the loss of his father, the ex-CEO of Autumm Inc., God bless his soul. Prior to his father death, Jurian had married Vassa Auburn, a sociality born with a golden spoon.

The couple was supposedly creating connections in America by attending the most exclusives parties, charity events and auctions, always make sure to keep their noses high and their bids even higher. While the husband kept the finances smooth, the wife was a true fashionista with 105 million followers on Instagram, who abandoned Il Fiore, a prestigious fashion school in Millan, and refused to be on the cover of British Vogue twice, claiming “divergence of creative style” in both occasions.

Their conjoined effort for recognition had finally attracted the attention of the right people in their last social.

As Vassa socialized with high society wives and their spawns, she made sure to nurture a rival who was twenty years her junior –not one of her best moments if she could be honest, but a job was a job. Annoying Alexander Vanserra, who happened to be Beron Vanserra’s favorite grandchild, resulted in a brat pushing a graceful lady into a decorative pond. His mother, who came from an unprivileged background, went white as ghost watching everyone whispering and pointing fingers, his grandfather turning purple from anger as photographers snapped photos that would never be published. Vassa made a show out of getting out of the pond, falling again, having to be rescued by her furious husband, who did a slow recognition of everyone present before draping a towel around her. The gossip stopped at once, Beron pulling her husband to a particular conversation, apologizing to him (and not her!) inviting them to a lowkey social gathering at one of his vacation homes.

“When will you return to your hair?”

“Which one?”

“Golden brown. Wavy. Beautiful. The one you had when I met you.”

“Who said that was my hair?”

“Wasn’t it?” inside the elevator, he pushed the “P” for parking lot before return the hand to sustain her, searching for her eyes. “I’ll take whatever color or size you choose, but I have to confess. That one suits you the best. A perfect golden halo crowning the pretty angel that you are.”

Elain rolled her eyes, hiding between his neck and shoulder to prevent him from seeing her smile.

“Whatever you say ewok.”

He groaned. “Enough with the ewok thing, it wasn’t funny in the first time, it isn’t now.”

“Shave that fur of and I might consider calling you something else.”

“Fur? Fur?” he repeated offended, making sure to rub his beard-covered-cheek to her soft one, smirking when she held his face away from her. “I’ll have you know the chicks dig it.”

“The chicks are lying. No one digs that.” Elain sneaked one hand inside his jacket, searching for the chocolate she knew he was prone to keep within reach, taking a bite and offering him the other half.

“A beard can add to the fun you know.”

“Sure, if you are into skin rash. Which I’m not.”

She cleaned the smear of chocolate on the corner of his mouth, licking her thumb afterwards.

Azriel watched she work her little tongue around her finger. He held her firmer, unable to stop the lust from bleeding in his eyes, yet his gut kept screeching like a crazy bat, worried about her health. He knew she hadn’t slept well this week, going as far as sneaking under his covers last night, claiming her room was too cold. “I think my heater is broken,” she shivered furrowing closer to him. In truth, she was the one burning up.

He cleared his throat. “We don’t have to go tomorrow.”

Her relaxed expression disappeared in an instant

“What?”

“His interest can grow if we play a little hard to get. You know Vanserra, he buys that crap better than most.”

Her face soured. She jumped on the floor.

“Listen to me because I’m only going to say this once. I do enjoy your company, but that doesn’t mean I’ll drag this mission on.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. You’re sick–”

She clamped his mouth shut. “But not dead. You’ll drive us back, I’ll take a nice nap and tomorrow we will be in his Villa.” If eyes could throw daggers, Shadow would be stabbed. “Just like we planned.”

Azriel gave her a dirty look.

Elain matched him.

They didn’t talk on the ride back.

.

.

.

The fire alarm ringed incessantly, dense black smoke clogging the air in the bedroom, high flames licking the wall, quickly reaching the curtain. The maids screamed from the doorway as she stood in the middle, arms crossed and a pout in her face.

"Mrs. Auburn, please!" Violet, the older maid, begged with tear falling down. "Please madam, come to this side I beg you."

“You have ruined my breakfast!” Elain shot back at her with a thick Italian accent, stomping her foot like a petulant child.

"I'll make you another ma'am, please come out, it's not safe."

"You served me a cold meal! Are all servants in this house this stupid?" She scoffed sporting her best bitch face.

Elain covered her face when the fire roared higher, painting the ridiculously expensive French ceiling in a shade of smoky black. Woops. Elain made a mental note to tip them well after this hell, maybe find them new jobs if they turned out to be fired from this household. The maids cried with the arrivew of the butler caring a fire extinguisher, his face a mask of pure horror. By the time he managed to put out the fire, the poor man was breathless.

"Madam Auburn," he panted cleaning the sweat on his forehead, trying to recompose. "What happened, madam?"

"What happened?" She repeated incredulous, pushing her bright ginger hair away from her face, "the lousy maids you sent me happened! I had to heat my own meal!” Elain pointed to a discharged hair blower on the corner, the cable raw and sizzling. “Do you have any idea how humiliated I was?"

"Vassa."

The single word had enough charge to quiet everyone present, the maids squeaking at the sudden presence of the muscular man behind them. They made a courtesy and stepped aside, allowing him inside the room.

"Darling, you're here!" she clapped her hands excited and went to him. "You had no idea how much I suffered! These incompetent lot-"

"Enough Vassa." He didn't scream, didn't raised his voice, yet all of them flinched under the utter command.

Elain watched him turn to the employees who had formed a single line, opening his wallet and slipped a couple of hundreds into their hands. “I apologize for my wife, she’s still young and immature. I would appreciate if you could keep what happen today between us,” of course they wouldn’t. By nightfall her brattiness would be a hot topic, just like she planned. “I will pay for the damage myself. Now, excuse us please.” He pointed to the door.

"No!" Elain stomped her foot again, making the employees unsure of who to follow. "I want them all them fired! I want those maids on the street!”

“Quiet!” Azriel snarled, loosing his temper. He loosened his tie, not wasting a second glance at them. "Out. Now."

The servants scurried away as fast as they could, closing the double doors to press their ears against it, vaguely listen to the discussion between the couple who appear to be so prim in the magazines.

They heard a slap.

"You had no right!” Vassa Auburn screamed.

"I have no right?” The husband stroke back. “You had no right! You are embarrassing me! Do you know how hard I worked to get here?”

Inside the room, Flower and Shadow worked in synchrony to keep the fight going while checking the place for bugs or cameras.

"Oooh, I'm embarrassing you? You embarrass me! Who do you think you are? I'm an Auburn, I'll not be treated like this!" Elain screamed catching the drive he tossed her. She opened her bag searching for the adapter to plug it in her phone.

"I made you an Auburn honey, don't forget that." He mocked, going to the door. “I’m not letting a spoiled bitch ruining my chances of investing!"

“What did you call me?” Elain pointed to the vase beside the entrance and he pushed it down, the expensive ceramic cracking all over the floor. "I regret the day we married, you were nothing but a lowly investor who married me for my money!"

"What money? You don't even work!"

"I don't have to work, I am a heir, an influencer. Do you have any idea of how many followers I have? People worship me!"

Outside, the butter clicked his tongue, gesturing for the maids to follow him, leaving the couple to argue alone. Rich people were the worst.

"They’re gone."

Elain massaged her throat, scanning the files on the screen. "Gosh, my throat is sore."

Shadow sat beside her with a glass of water. "You set fire to the room?"

"A mild one. You said you wanted a distraction.”

He laughed. "I meant for you to fake a headache or something."

Elain shrugged.

"Did you get it?"

"Yeah." Azriel asked for her phone, selecting the right file and adjusting the screen for the both of them. "This is the original outline for the mansion from the archives of the City Hall. Vanserra had dozen modifications approved after, but the secret lies in the original structure."

Elain studied the architectural plant from Beron’s main house, conjuring a 3D model in her head.

"Any room can be a vault."

"Yes. Except you wouldn't want to announce to the world you keep your treasures near your family, would ya? Now compare this plant with the photos from the last renovation." He opened another file, showing her pictures from inside the house, taken three years ago. He pointed at the columns situated between the 13th and 14th bedroom on the third floor, "You see this? The walls here are not aligned as the rest, that leaves an extra space between these rooms. Is not much once you convert the scale, but it’s good enough for a tunnel.”

“You thing he biuld and underground room?”

“Probably.”

"Where's the security room?"

"Here." He pointed at a room in the first floor, near the kitchen.

“His wife is having a Gala on the weekend, is a good cover to roam around, do some research.”

“Can you get us an invite?” she nodded. Azriel hummed appreciatively, closing the open tabs. “Let’s fuck this asshole.”

Elain chuckled, getting up. Shadow held her wrist, tentatively.

“About yesterday,”

“No,” she shook her head. “No. We have work to do husband. Let’s focus on that for now.”

She patted his chest and left.

......

I don’t really know how to do a tag list, i hope this find you anyway :D

#elriel fanfic #elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #elriel fanfition #my writing #flower and shadow #chapter 3 #the name is bond #elain bond

[r00ib0s]

What are some of your favorite lower level bard spells? Like say between spell levels 1-3

OOH okay so a couple of these are homebrew, cause i almost exclusively play homebrew, but hope it helps anyway.. also i'm translating the homebrew spell names back from polish cause i have no idea where my DM took them from SORRY

these are my favorite Halcyon (tm) spells:

See Through (1lv) - lets you see throught up to 30ft of solid matter as long as it's not stopped by a layer of lead (homebrew but i've had it for so long it honestly baffles me that it's not original)

Negative (2lv) (though in english, I'd call it Traverse) - wis save or the target switches places with you, reach 300ft (homebrew, extremely good for tactical annoyance)

Call Pigs (or Siren) (1lv) - dex save or target emits loud siren noise for 2 hours, audible within 600ft, generally used to signal a running criminal to cops (homebrew, not a Hal spell per se but VERY FUNNY)

Disheartening Whispers - wis save or the target loses it's turn doing nothing, as you whisper a depressing litany at them. only the target can hear you and the spell ends if you stop whispering to say anything else, including vocal components of other spells. wis save every turn, but the spell doesn't end if the target succeeds, and you can switch targets as a bonus action (homebrew, very clutch, a nice love letter to Hex and Hold Person, i think, but with it's own unique qualities)

THAT'S IT FOR HOMEBREW, as for the dnd originals:

Message - very good, almost crucial Minor Illusion, Silent Image, Phantasmal Force, Major Image - ILLISIONS ARE GOOD!! you can use them for literally anything, get creative in battle friend. fuck with people. also if someone can see through them automatically they're on my shit list. signed Halcyon tm Charm Person - ofc Heroism - VERY GOOD Dissonant Whispers - (or the piss off bitch spell) Bane - good debuff, almost for free Tasha’s Hideous Laughter - free debuff estate, again Calm Emotions - useful, actually Detect Thoughts - get the best goss Heat Metal - good way to make a life of every heavy armored chap a living hell Hold Person - i hold them, you hit them, good support 101 Invisibility - you're gonna need it for mischievous activities Lesser Restoration - good to have, especially when party members love to partake in Substances Suggestion - most op low level spell??? Bestow Curse - great for similar reasons as homebrew above Dispel Magic - caster 101 Sending - very crucial utility, not just for jokes. send some mail in the evening, talk to your spouse, roleplay gold. Tiny Hut - nothing more bard than making a warm bubble to snuggle with your friends :)

#dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #r00ib0s txt

[here-have-some-stories]

Massacre Masquerade Chap 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

The roof was a nice open space, with a clear view of the streets below and the sky. It was surprisingly clean up there, the only exception being only a few beer cans piled up in a corner. It was obvious that someone else had been up there before, possibly with a group of friends. There was a sort of barrier around the edge of the building, about half a metre high, that protected them from falling off it.

Bailey led them to a spot in the middle and sat down, Leon and Deacon following, sitting either side of her. 

“It’s nice up here isn’t it?” Bailey asked, lying back with her hands behind her head.

Deacon nodded in agreement. “It is. I can see why you like it up here.”

“It’s nice to get away from all the noise and the people sometimes,” Bailey said, “It can get too much, so it’s good to take a break.”

“Of course,” Deacon agreed. They were silent for a little while. Deacon leaned back slightly, his arms holding him up behind him, his legs stretched out, and closed his eyes, letting the cool breeze fall on his face. He opened his eyes when Leon spoke. 

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Leon asked, looking at his two companions. Tomorrow, of course, was their first day on the job of being knights.

“A little,” Bailey replied, sitting up.

“I definitely am,” Deacon said, “I’m worried I’m gonna mess up in some way, or do something wrong.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” Leon reassured him. 

Deacon sighed. “I know it’s just nerves and anxiety, but sometimes those thoughts take over, and it’s hard to convince yourself that you’ll do fine.” Leon and Bailey conceded that Deacon had a good point. 

“Well, I guess we won’t find out until tomorrow,” Bailey said, philosophical. “Until then, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“True,” Deacon agreed. “What do you think being knights will actually be like?”

“Hopefully at least a bit of fun,” Leon said. “Hopefully not too many rules and restrictions on what we can and can’t do, and hopefully we’ll definitely get to help people.”

“We won’t find out until tomorrow,” Bailey repeated. She tilted her head back and looked at the sky. She grabbed Leon’s and Deacon shoulders and pulled them back with her as she leaned back to lie down again. They all looked up at the sky together. There were no clouds that night, and they could clearly see all the stars twinkling against the black of the sky. Without realising it, Bailey started counting the stars. She counted all the way up to two hundred and fifty six, before she started to feel her eyelids get heavy. Slowly she closed her eyes and relaxed back, drifting to sleep. Leon and Deacon followed shortly afterwards. All three of them were at peace on the rooftop.

This one is defintely a lot shorter than the other chapters. Also yes, I have finally gotten back to writing on this story, I did not completly abonden it, I was spending time to plan it out.

Hope you enjoyed reading it if you actually did read it. If you have any feedback or comments please share them. If you have an requests or suggestions for things to write I am open to them and I will try and get to them.

-Kenickie.

Other works: Paper Love Silent Laughter

#creative writing #writeblr #writers #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing #here have some stories #author #massacre masquerade #massacre masquerade chap 4 #stories #story writing #story #original story #writer #book writing #creative writers #fiction writing #queer writers #tumblr writers #writeblr community #writer on tumblr #writers of tumblr #writing community #writing blog #masquerades #masked ball #massacre #mystery stories #murder mystery

[wishing4nuclearwinter]

I think the "did we just kiss?" one would be moderately pertinent for Sol and Arcade :3

(for the kiss starter thing which would also be a great name for a gay dating website)

This has been sitting in my inbox for almost two months while I awaited the inspiration to come to me. It has arrived and thus, I offer you an Arcade and Sol first kiss ~

It was Thursday night, ten o'clock- too early for bed and too late for much else. At least that was Sol’s best guess. Despite his efforts to recalibrate it, his internal clock remained hopelessly desynchronized from the standard passage of time.

He glanced at Arcade from the corner of his eye, but the time on his Pip-Boy screen was too far away to read where it rested on Arcade’s lap. Mr. New Vegas’ voice was muffled against his leg, already grainy syllables distant.

Arcade yawned lazily, Sol silently watching his jaw unclench and the scrunch of his nose that inadvertently pushed his glasses back up on his face. In contrast to Sol’s rolled up sweatpants, he had yet to change out his dark khakis and dress shirt. Still, the top several buttons were undone to reveal a slice of sharp collarbones and several platinum waves had fallen into his face, betraying a day of quiet lounging about the suite.

The rec room’s dim lighting painted him so softly.

Sol quickly looked away.

As the radio host’s voice faded, it was replaced by the rise and fall of melancholy strings and a woman’s soft vocals.

Play the guitar, play it again-

Sol groaned and reached for his Pip-Boy. “I c-can’t listen to this again.”

At the last second the radio controls were moved out of his reach.

“Hey, I like it.” Arcade’s mock offense was undermined by the laughter hanging on the edges of his words.

“No, you-” Sol cut himself off with a sudden lunge for his Pip-Boy. His fingers brushed the scuffed casing, but they failed to get purchase as Arcade laughed and lifted it out of his reach. Half on top of him, Sol instead wrapped his hand around Arcade’s wrist to pull it back towards himself. Arcade only fought for a moment before his arm began to slowly slide down.

Sol’s victory was short celebrated, his grin fading. His grip around Arcade’s wrist loosened without letting go and he could feel thrum of the other’s heart beneath his finger tips.

He willed himself to pluck the Pip-Boy from his grasp and settle back into his side of the loveseat.

Instead, he remained frozen, merely sinking down onto Arcade’s lap.

He was all too aware of his knees pressed to either side of Arcade’s hips, of his own shallow breaths, of the bob of Arcade’s throat as he swallowed. The air between them hung impossibly heavy.

When Arcade finally spoke, his words were a whispered sigh that brushed Sol’s skin.

“Can I kiss you?”

For a blissful moment, Sol’s ever racing thoughts were brought to a stand still. He couldn’t think, nor force his mouth to form a response. It happened too fast for the voice of reason that lingered in the back of his mind to stop him.

He closed what little space remained between them.

Arcade’s lips were soft, giving, though dry and chapped from the arid heat. Blunt corners of his glasses dug into Sol’s cheeks and rough, barely present stubble grazed his skin. He smelled of mild soap and pomade and something indistinct yet undeniably Arcade.

Sol breathed a contented sigh.

There was an inexplicable quality to those moments, the sensation of finality, of reaching a destination you hadn’t known to be searching for. Of coming home.

Arcade’s free hand tentatively caressed the side of his face, smoothing a thumb along his jaw as Sol tilted his head. Arcade then broke away, if only by an inch, sucking in air like he had forgotten to breathe.

Dizzy, Sol blinked. He kept his gaze on Arcade’s lips and watched Arcade study him in his periphery, bright green eyes as alert as ever.

A semblance of reality sunk back into Sol’s mind and he went rigid.

He was on Arcade’s lap, in his space, the taste of him lingering on Sol’s lips too sweet to be melding with the sudden bitter confusion.

Arcade’s hand fell away from his face as Sol managed to choke out, “Did I- you- we… just-”

Shaking his head in an unsuccessful bid to organize his thoughts and emotions, he scrambled to stand. There was no sense to the heat in his chest, only to the familiar panic welling in his stomach. The gaping doorway to the recreation room remained empty. It did nothing to soothe the burn of eyes on the back of his neck.

To kiss Arcade was to make a declaration he wasn’t sure he was capable of. He didn’t look at Arcade that way, he had never looked at him that way- had he?

Sol’s mouth was cotton and Arcade was looking at him with a hurt that he couldn’t decipher and people were watching, they were always watching, and-

“I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

The next thing he was aware of was the slam of his bedroom door and his back sliding down wood as he slumped onto the carpeted floor. A long while passed before he heard Arcade padding through the hallway to the kitchen, the bathroom, and then his own room.

When Sol finally reopened his door the next morning, he found his Pip-Boy laid out gingerly on the other side.

#thank you for the prompt! <3 #i've had this scene bouncing around my head for a ridiculously long time #i will likely use it in one of sol's sequel fics eventually #arcade gannon #sol tag #writing4nuclearwinter

[notthatalex]

First and last lines!

rules: post the first and last lines of the last 10 fics you posted.

I was tagged by @japhan2024. Slight problem is that I don't have 10 fics yet and some of them are multi chap fics that aren't completed yet. So you are getting 7, with 2 of those not actually being the last line, but the last line that is posted at this moment.

(Wip) reclusive and generally unpleasant

First:

A middle aged woman stands in the cold autumn wind, the bitter breeze tousling her coat as water falls down its length, forming tiny puddles at her feet.

Last:

Only her, concrete and nicotine. Nothing better in this world.

2. (wip) The Discord

First:

Last:

3. Grace and The Chosen are abstinence fans

First:

A blond boy is wandering the halls of Hatchetfield High. His katana is swinging from side to side, following the rhythm of his steps. Yet, the motion isn't fluid.

Last:

Something is off with her, something more than the obvious.

4. It's my world - you're just living in it

First:

Hello book,

Is this how you start a diary entry?

Last:

And so, I remain here, a silent watcher, a ghost of the past. This is my place. And he has his own.

~ The Chosen

5. Fellowship of Repression

First:

The Chosen spends his day much like he spends most of his days: sitting in his room, playing games, always ready in case the world needs him.

Last:

The conversation finally drifts to lighter topics as they share stories, laughter, and delicious food.

6. Let me have a little bit attachment - as a treat

First:

"The jedi code you know, master kenobi"

Last:

"[...] Believe me you don't want to talk to pissed cody if you value your life."

7. Be weak for me

First:

Cody was very relieved that he and his partner, Obi-Wan made it safe out of that battle. Skywalker really saved him today.

Last:

"Of course sir" Cody said while he chuckled quietly.

#honestly do not read the star wars fics #i do not recommend

[bindtorturekillme]

Your Eyes, Vacant and Stained

Ch.8 - 4k

Pairing: Frank Iero x Gerard Way

He dwelled for a while on the heat of Gerard’s breath against his mouth. The hint of cigarettes that never quite stuck as strongly as Frank was used to.

He felt his face get hot as he thought about how nice it would’ve been to lean into Gerard. Wondering what Gerard would’ve done in return.

It would be a lie if Frank said he never noticed Gerard checking him out or leaning more towards him when they’re standing together.

Warnings 

Gore, Death, Murder, WORK-IN-PROGRESS, not completed (and chapters unknown) but I know the ending, trust me guys I will write it, I just need people to love this idea with me, Zombies, Gay, mcr??

Support my AO3 with part eight otherwise, enjoy ♥

Chap.1 | Chap.2 | Chap.3 | Chap.4 | Chap.5 | Chap.6 | Chap.7 | Chap. 9 | Chap.10 |

Dinner that night was mostly silent, but completely awkward. Mostly silent because you would need to glue Scarlet and Charlotte’s mouth shut to get them to stop talking, and even then, Frank thought they would talk through the glue just to be social. It was obvious how much the girls loved each other, and even more obvious how much Mikey hated Frank right now.

Ray attempted to keep the peace while everyone ate. Scarlet found more pre-made meals for everyone to have for dinner, realistically they could stay here and survive for months, probably as long as they continued to ration properly. But, with the dog-like creatures and the runners basically surrounding them, Gerard proposed it would probably be safer to continue following the virus like they were already doing.

It was easy to convince the girls they were safer not staying in one place. Food would eventually run out and there was no sign of the government or government bodies giving a single fuck that people are turning into walking corpses. The only sign that the virus was continuing to decimate societies was the lack of radio and television transmissions.

Frank turned in early, after having barely touched his food. Ray offered to wrap his food back up so it wouldn’t go to waste, but Frank only responded with a wave of his hand before disappearing into their make-shift beds.

Wanting to give him space, Ray, Gerard, and Mikey decided to stay up with the girls, well into the night.

But Frank couldn’t find sleep. He stayed awake staring at the wall for what felt like hours. Although it was just a muffle, he could hear everyone else yelling excitedly. Frank just couldn’t shake the events of the day as easily as the rest of them could.

He sat up in the dark, there was some light streaming in from outside the door from another room nearby, allowing Frank to see clearly. Forcing himself forward, he searched for the duffle bag he was storing his pre-roll stash in. Snatching them out of his bag, he made his way out front to the truck again.

He forced himself to not even hesitate on his walk out as he heard the shouting of everyone having fun in the rec room. The smashing of pool balls then a yell of agony followed by laughter. Frank felt his chest tighten but the cool air of the late night untangled it and the fun from inside was forgotten.

Frank situated himself on the edge of the truck bed again to light up alone, again.

You started alone last time too… Frank chuckled out his first hit, reminiscing on his time spent in the truck bed getting high with Gerard last time. Taking another deep hit and leaning back on his hands, Frank allowed himself to relax.

The night was mostly silent, there was an ominous banging against glass in the distance, and the air just smelled… wrong. The corpses around them rotting on the pavement. The sun during the day basically baking the decomposing corpses into the boiling gravel. The smell of spoiled, overcooked pork burned into his nose with a disgustingly strange twist of burnt rubber.

Frank attempted to huff the tangy weed smell given off by his joint to stay calm. He could hardly control himself as his mind wandered back to when Gerard almost kissed him, but instead he blew his smoke into Frank’s mouth.

He dwelled for a while on the heat of Gerard’s breath against his mouth. The hint of cigarettes that never quite stuck as strongly as Frank was used to.

He felt his face get hot as he thought about how nice it would’ve been to lean into Gerard. Wondering what Gerard would’ve done in return. It would be a lie if Frank said he never noticed Gerard checking him out or leaning more towards him when they’re standing together.

Frank imagined the way he would definitely taste like cigarettes, but maybe there were other addictions he would be able to decipher from how his tongue tasted. His eyes slowly closing as his head lobbed back.

Frank’s jeans had been gradually getting tighter as his imagination went on, his face felt as hot as it does after a couple of stiff drinks. Frank was unconsciously hitting the joint while his imagination warmed him up.

At some point while he was distracted, the joint stayed between his lips and his now free hand was rubbing himself outside his jeans.

“Hey- “The slightly slurred words from Gerard scared the shit out of Frank, he jumped away in defense as Gerard slinked around the bed of the truck to push his body against Franks. He wasn’t sure how much Gerard had seen but the hint of cigarette smoke that stuck to him meant he was watching for a little bit.

Frank hesitated, breathing hard, “Are you sure you want this...?” Gerard’s eyes were heavy, and he stumbled a little while staring deeply into Frank’s eyes. He nodded slowly, blinking slower. Frank inhaled the joint until it hurt, feeling his dick grow even harder.

But when he pulled the joint away, leaning slightly closer to Gerard, Gerard instead wrapped his mouth around the joint and took a hit too. He pulled away from Frank, taking the joint with him, leaving freezing air in his wake.

 Gerard sobered up, or he was acting drunker than he was, either way Frank was still hard from just being so close to him. The smell of a strong whiskey was intertwined with the sweetness from the tobacco.

Gerard pulled the joint away, blowing his smoke directed towards Frank, but the wind stole it and yanked it away from them both.

He took another hit, being more casual about the exhalation before handing it back to Frank. Gerard made Frank feel small from the beginning, as much as Frank wished to see Gerard standing over him again like the day in the pharmacy, maybe even with a gun again if he’s into that, it made Gerard a little more intimidating than he normally was.

Gerard standing in front of Frank now, Frank didn’t feel intimidated, but he was staying more aroused than he wished he was.

Gerard held the joint out and Frank took it back, unconsciously taking a deep inhale. Gerard broke the tension that Frank couldn’t tell whether Gerard also felt or not, “Couldn’t sleep?”

Frank just shook his head. “Smoke break?” He coughed out, making Gerard chuckle.

“Can you still smell it on me?” Gerard sniffed the hoodie he had thrown on before coming out here and only shrugged. The cigarette smell Frank was intoxicated by was unrecognizable to Gerard’s nose.

There was another long, awkward silence between the two as they huffed and passed the joint. It quickly burned out as they stared at each other. Frank watched as Gerard took the last hit and stamped out the butt.

“Would you like to join us?” Gerard gestured back to the building. Gerard returned both of his fists to the pockets in his hoodie, rocking a little on the heels of his feet.

Frank shook his head again, “I don’t want to ruin the party by pissing anyone off.” Gerard rolled his eyes.

“Just ignore Mikey, we all had a long day. You should come have a drink.”

“I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

Frank shrugged, “I can’t trust myself when I drink.” Frank was unable to meet Gerard’s eyes, he had averted them to stare at some rock that sat in the truck bed with him.

Instead of responding, Gerard closed the gap between them again. Gerard’s hands had slipped out of his pockets at some point and planted them on either side of Frank’s hips.

A harsh, red, warm heat crept up Frank’s neck, slowly heating up the skin on his face.

“Can you trust me when I’ve being drinking?” Frank was too flustered to make out exactly what Gerard was asking; he could feel his face burning hot as they stared at each other. Frank stumbled and stuttered over a few sounds before Gerard moved one hand from beside his hip to being on his knee.

Frank’s eyes went to Gerard’s hand while Gerard continued to stare at him, smirking a little at how cute he thought Frank was while he was so flustered. He slowly brought his hand up a little higher, Gerard could obviously see how hard Frank was getting from just his touch.

Frank was still staring down at Gerard’s hand as he slowly crept up his thigh, making Frank’s breathing hitch and speed up. Gerard wouldn’t take his eyes off Frank’s face, leaving only a couple of inches between them. Even in the dark away from the building, he could make out Frank’s red cheeks.

Gerard continued his hand up his thigh, to his dick. With the lightest touch he held his palm over his already throbbing cock. Frank exhaled quickly. A silent beg occurred when Frank raised his eyes to meet Gerard’s, his eyes now red and half lidded from the weed. Frank felt relaxed and uptight all together, but Gerard squeezing his cock helped to massage those feelings away.

Gerard squeezed again, making another quick, but soft, exhale fall out of Frank’s lips. Gerard became more entertained every time Frank made a noise. Gerard’s hand was gone faster than it arrived, but it soon returned as Gerard fumbled a little with Frank’s jeans, tearing them open with more hunger than he wanted to let off.

The cold air grew warm on Frank’s dick as Gerard reached into his boxers. Gerard’s hands weren’t soft, but the immediate friction from the calloses made Frank’s head fall back and a low, long moan poured out.

Gerard was gentle at first, seemingly aware of how dry this hand-job already was. When he saw how much Frank was enjoying it, though, he pulled away too quickly for Frank’s comfort. He spit into his palm before dipping into Frank’s boxers again.

Frank moaned quietly as he forced his head back down to meet Gerard’s half-lidded eyes. He couldn’t hold his mouth shut as he panted lightly as Gerard stopped tugging on him and started to lightly rub his thumb against the tip of dick.

Gerard was great at teasing the tip, he stopped quickly to push and pull his hand up and down again, pulsating pressure randomly but gripping hard whenever he returned to the base of the head.

The rising heat flustered Frank, Gerard was inching closer, and Frank could only distinguish his distance based on how much of his lips was hot from Gerard’s breath.

“Is this okay…?” Gerard asking for consent. Fuck. Frank’s breath hitched and he leaned in without responding. But Gerard’s reaction made Frank think he was expecting them to kiss. Gerard pumped a little faster, smiling against Frank’s heavy breathing.

One of Frank’s hands was gripping Gerard’s hair while his other was digging deep crescent moons into the arm that was invading his pants. But the pain didn’t stop Gerard, if anything it encouraged him to go faster as Frank started breathing heavier and faster. Bucking into Gerard’s hand a little, causing him to deviously grin.

Gerard enjoyed the feeling of Frank underneath him; he enjoyed the feeling he was overcome with when he protected him in the gas station a few days ago, but now…? Gerard forced his tongue between Frank’s panting lips. Gerard became conscious of his movements on Franks dick and changed it to be faster, circling the tip of his head every time he pumped up. Creating an up and around rhythm; Up and around, down. Up and around, down.

Frank’s tongue fought Gerard weakly as he yearned to stay as close to him as possible. Gerard pulled his mouth away, dragging out a long line of saliva attaching them. Frank followed the rope of spit to Gerard as he pulled away. Feeling so much colder now, Gerard stared down at him, most of his face darkened by the shadows of the night, but the lust couldn’t be hidden. The piercing look shot through Frank’s chest, making Frank desperate for more.

Frank didn’t fully register Gerard’s evil smirk until he was about to reach his peak, hips bucking slightly in rhythm with Gerard’s pumping. Then, he stopped. Suddenly gripping right under the tip of his dick. And slowly pulled his hand away.

A guttural groan escaped the depths of Frank’s body, a sound he’d never heard before, but he’d also never been denied an orgasm before. He’d been with men before, and women, but no one focused so much on him like this.

The pain from the buildup made his balls tighten and cock twitch. Frank’s mouth hung open just enough for Gerard to shove his sweaty middle fingers into his mouth and pulling their faces close again, Gerard’s breath caressing Frank’s cheek as he spoke, “Now you smell like cigarettes, too…” Gerard rubbing his nose lightly over Frank’s cheek as he spoke, going down his neck.

Frank panted again weakly, his head rolling back again while Gerard lightly skimmed his neck with his lips. Parting them with an inhale, Gerard swiped Frank’s neck with his tongue before biting down hard on a sweet spot.

Frank’s dick throbbed, his teeth impaling Gerard’s fingers as Gerard gripped his jaw tighter, wrapping his other arm around Frank’s body to hold him up as he pulled him closer. Frank gave in, using his tongue to trace between Gerard’s fingers.

A low chuckle dropped from Gerard’s mouth, and he pulled away from Frank. The cold air of the night blowing away any warmth Gerard added to their moment.

“Thanks for sharing your joint again. I should get back.” The smirk never left his face, Frank sat in an awkward flustered mess on the truck bed, still panting slightly with embarrassment, pants undone and hair disheveled, as Gerard turned and walked back to the building.

Gerard’s stride was nonchalant, Frank’s dick twitched slower, but the motion still forced a jolt to shoot through him. Frank couldn’t take his eyes off Gerard; both of his hands back in his pockets, he walked away as if he didn’t just make Frank feel the most deprived he ever has in his life.

Frank’s hand unconsciously reconnected with his dick, attempting to mimic a fraction of how Gerard made him feel, but failing miserably. He became hyper aware of the way his own skin felt against his own callused hands and missed the feeling of Gerard grabbing hold of him.

The lack of warmth killed the mood the most. Frank felt like he couldn’t maneuver around himself within his pants after Gerard did it so effortlessly. He still felt a phantom version of Gerard’s smooth up and around, down rhythm.

But his hands were unable to copy the smooth, yet careless motion of Gerard’s hands on his cock. His dick throbbed again, not for his own hands but for Gerard’s.

His cock was not going to soften, but the feel of his own skin attempting to finish what Gerard started made himself cringe. He gave up and attempted to stuff his dick back into his pants behind the tight zipper, dealing with more of a fight than he had the energy for.

Ignoring the button, he quietly made his way back to their beds. He was too pent up to deal with the shit from Mikey and couldn’t take his mind off how far he could get with Gerard if he got more time alone with him.

As Frank walked back through the lobby, ignoring the excitable sounds radiating from the rec room that were louder than earlier, he quickened his pace back to their beds. He forced his way through the door, practically throwing himself onto the bed and immediately his hands were back at his zipper.

His pants were off within seconds, he boxers quickly being pushed to his knees without a second thought. He thought about taking off his shirt but the lingering smell of whiskey and tobacco from Gerard was stuck to it in a way that made the next throb of his cock become painful.

A bead of precum expelled from the tip of his dick as he grabbed himself hard, his brain was so fuzzy he kicked away his blanket as he began to jerk himself off. Huffing the smell that so barely lingered on him still, Frank felt desperate as he gripped himself harder for every deep inhale of Gerard’s smell that stuck to him.

A quick breath escaped him, unintentionally, as he teased his head a little to help edge the orgasm that already couldn’t match what he just experienced outside. Frank rolled his eyes at himself as he indulged himself in the feeling he was denying so much earlier.

Frank fantasized about Gerard pushing him to his back forcefully while he continued his smoothly intoxicating rhythm from before.

Up and around, down.

He imagined how slickly wet his body would get with Gerard pushed so close, breathing heavily down his neck. Frank was reminded by how hard Gerard bit down on his neck, keeping that smooth pace while pumping his dick from before, but wanting to feel more of Gerard’s teeth on his neck.

Up and around, down.

Frank felt himself grow closer and closer to his peak, the denial from before making him bite his tongue with agony as he struggled to reach it. He attempted to imagine the different positions Gerard could jerk him off in, but his throbbing cock was never satisfied by the ideas. Until Frank switched ideas.

He switched his ideas from being topped by Gerard to pleasing him, the throbbing stopped as Frank started to get closer and closer to his end.

Up and around, down.

He imagined going down on Gerard, pulling out his dick and taking as much of it into his own mouth, but the lack of knowledge about how big Gerard was messed with the idea slightly. Frank wasn’t bothered by it, but it tried his best not to overthink the size… or girth… or how veiny it was.

Frank was so unaware of his surroundings, the loud slapping of the side of his hand slapping against his pelvis began to sound like someone sloppily giving head without the same amount of pleasure. Frank abruptly stopped as he heard a loud snore cut through the air.

Frank froze solid. Hard dick still being gripped as he paused to find the source, Frank turned to his right and saw the empty bed that Ray occupied the night before. His head whipped around to the left, in the bed on his other side he saw Gerard on his front, topless with his mouth hanging open. It made Frank laugh to see his dominating friend in such a vulnerable position, then he realized his dick was still in his hand…

Up and around, down.

A quick breath jumped out of him again as he stared at Gerard’s sleeping face, his mouth hanging open allowed Frank to imagine himself in charge. He pictured how thoughtful Gerard would be when it came to pleasing him. Frank always wished to be in charge, but he typically became weak when the situation presented itself.

At one point, as Frank indulged in the lust radiating from his dick, his eyes wondered and landed on the pile of Gerard’s clothes. Gerard typically wore clothes to bed, at least in Frank’s experience over the last few days. Except tonight, his clothes were in a pile at the end of his bed, bright red and black plaid boxers sitting eagerly on top.

Frank’s eyes shot back up to Gerard’s face; mouth squished wide open against his pillow, then back down his pile of clothes. After the teasing Gerard did to Frank tonight, he thought Gerard deserved something similar.

With one more look at Gerard’s face, Frank pushed himself out of bed and made way towards Gerard’s boxers. Frank never let his own dick go, gripping it hard as he moved swiftly to the end of their beds just to wrap the soft fabric of Gerard’s boxers around his desperation. The friction of dry cotton became extremely apparent at that moment.

But Frank couldn’t care, all he wanted was to indulge in Gerard. He started slow, allowing his entire dick to get a feel of the fabric from the boxers before Frank figured out what way was best to rub himself with.

Frank thrusted multiple times into Gerard’s boxers before realizing the smell of Gerard in his own shirt had been huffed out. Without a second thought, Frank stole Gerard’s shirt from the same pile and nearly suffocated himself with the scent that teased him from his own shirt.

Animalistically, Frank ripped off his own shirt of soft fabric and yanked Gerard’s worn, rough shirt over his head. It was slightly larger on him; without a second thought he pointed his dick up and used the t-shirt as a catch as he huffed deeply.

Before he was able to finish, a soft but noticeable thud from the hallway outside the door startled Frank, but not enough to make him stop. He hesitated and listened intently. When Gerard’s drunken snore ripped through the air again, Frank jerked himself off harder and faster.

Gerard’s snores were ugly, but the fact that he was so vulnerable now knowing Frank would come back to their room right away made Frank wonder if he came straight here on purpose or if Gerard was too drunk to know what was going on.

Up and around… squeeze, and down.

He unblinkingly watched Gerard’s sleeping face. The feeling of his teeth leaving a phantom of need on Frank’s neck. He returned his mind to that moment, pretending the bite lasted longer than a couple of seconds. Gerard’s teeth sinking deeper and deeper until he drew blood. Like a vampire, Gerard lapped it up in Frank’s imagination.

Up and around, squeeze… and down.

Frank inhaled deeply again, being reminded of Gerard’s smell. Frank’s lack of alcohol, but strong addiction to it, made his mouth water. Mostly for the alcohol, he did want some, but he wanted Gerard. Adding his favorite smell on top of it all just made him want Gerard to pin him down.

Up and around, squeeze, and down. Up and around, squeeze, and down.

Finally, his eyes. Gerard’s devious yet playful facial expressions always reached his eyes when talking to Frank. The way he looked at Frank both times in the truck bed; Gerard knowing he had full control in making Frank so weak. He thought of the time in the gas station when Gerard peered at him over his shoulder, he was so sure of himself – It made Frank feel safe.

Up and down. Up and around, squeeze, and down. Up and down. Up and around, squeeze, and down.

The final thought Frank had before his mind became numb was the way he felt the day Gerard and him first met, Gerard’s shotgun barrel inches from his face. Frank could smell the metal, and strangely also cigarettes but he assumed that was from huffing Gerard’s shirt. Frank felt tiny remembering it, and he loved it.

And he broke. Rushing over the edge, he exploded up his stomach and chest, leaving multiple traces of sticky whiteness inside the shirt as well. Gerard hadn’t moved since Frank started; Frank literally didn’t stop staring at him the entire time he masturbated.

As he slowed his pumping, he eventually grew soft again in his hand, still watching Gerard. His breathing slowed as he wiped his hand, and dick, and chest… and stomach, off on the inside of the shirt as well. Yanking it off, he tossed it with Gerard’s dirty clothes, the inside remaining on the inside, so no one finds the surprise he made specifically for Gerard.

Falling back, Frank made himself comfortable again within his own sheets, although he wished he had the balls to curl up next to Gerard instead.

He pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to tempt himself more. But, as Frank was falling asleep, he realized he was the most comfortable doing so while watching Gerard sleep.

#grank #mcr #frerard #frank iero x gerard way #frank/gerard #frerard fanfic #frerard fanfiction #frank/gerard fanfiction #bandfiction #grank fanfic #mcr fanfic #mcr fanfiction #mine #zombie au

[hunnybadgerv]

Tracker: Sensory Prompts

Adapted from the original Sensory Prompts 1 by @make-me-imagine to track the prompts and fills.

You can send 1-3 of these per prompt.

Nature Ambiance:

Crunch of leaves on pavement

Distant sound of a stream

Lying in a grassy field

The feeling of cold wind on your face

Sitting outside on a warm breezy day

Smell outside after a rainstorm

Smell of freshly cut grass

The tickle in your nose after smelling flowers

Cool warmth when the sun breaks the horizon in the early morning

First smack of winter air as you step outside taking your breath away

Walking into a warm room after being out in the cold

Silent field surrounded by fog

Sound of wind smacking against the glass

Vibration of loud rumbling thunder

Loud rain on a tin roof

Distant call of an animal in the night

Sound of a nearby waterfall

Chirping Birds

Sound of snowflakes hitting the ground

Snowflakes melting on your skin

Thud of a snowball hitting someone

Smell of blooming flowers in the breeze

Creaking of tree-limbs as the rub together

Sound of wind picking up

Fluff/Relationship:

Hands clasped as you dance

Fingers brushing through hair

Kiss on the back of your hand

The pressure of someone's head leaning on your shoulder

Hands gripping your clothes during a hug

Brushing of lips when you get too close

Fingertips brushing hair from your face

Someone's breath on your neck

Jacket draped over your shoulders

Body warmth as someone holds you against them

Closed eyes as you dance, head against chest

Ring slipping onto finger

Necklace being draped around neck

Twist in your gut as you say goodbye

Eyes meeting for the first time

Shy smiles

Secret glances

Flirty glances from across the room

Twist of jealousy in your gut

First realization of love

Angsty/Sad:

The gasp of air when your trying not to cry

Clenched fists

Numbness you feel when you are sad or angry

The twist in your gut before you begin to cry

Hushed whisper as someone comforts you

Pain after punching something

Hollow feeling in your chest when you are sad

Walking without a destination

Overwhelming confusion

Closing a door for the last time

Final Goodbye

Hollow anger turned into numbness

Seeing them with someone else

Having nowhere to go

Dizziness and Nausea

Lying in a hospital bed

Loosing sight of someone

Fear of rejection

Being forgotten

Anxiety without reason

Scary/Horror:

Flinch of the body when something scares you

Tingles as goosebumps rise on your arms

Feeling of someone watching you

Racing heartbeat

The sound of footsteps behind you

Your name being whispered in the dark

The creaking of an old door

Distant scream

Shadows in the corner

Breathing in the dark

The warmth of blood on your hands

Something unseen moving in the bushes

Frozen in fear

Wanting to call out but your voice wont come

Coming home to your door cracked open

Objects moved from one place to another

Eerie Silence

Sound of distant humming

Falling

Unable to breath

Comfort:

Warming up next to a fireplace after being out in the cold

First sip of coffee in the morning

Sliding into your newly washed sheets

Heat on your hands while holding a mug of tea

Warmth that fills your gut when drinking a hot beverage

Eating ice cream on a hot day

Sitting down after being on your feet all day

First bite of warm soup on a cold day

Hands rubbing up and down your back

The smell and feel of fresh warm clothes from the clothesline

The smell of an old book

Drink of refreshing water

Warm water rushing over your body

Swinging in a hammock

Comfortable drifting into sleep

Other (The ones I wasn’t sure where to put): 

The smell of wax after you blow out a candle

The sound of a flint firestarter

Shudder through your body when you are cold

Sigh of relief

Finding something you thought you lost

Remembering a distant memory

Build up of laughter

Sound of someone turning the page of a newspaper

Smell of fresh bakes cookies

Smell of paint

Watching paint dyed water drain down the sink

Putting lipstick/chap-stick on

Distant sound of a party

Shock when you run into someone you haven’t seen in a long time.

Sound of writing on paper

The whistle of a tea-kettle

Embers floating into the night sky before disappearing

Lightning bugs in a dark field

The crackling and popping of an open fire 

Adapted from Sensory Prompts 2 by @make-me-imagine in order to track prompts and fills.

Nature and Outside Ambiance:

Sound of wind in the trees.

Sound of rain sprinkling against the window.

Waves crashing onto rocks.

Distorted sound of voices in the distance.

Clouds moving through the sky quicker than normal.

Sound of birds flying past.

Lying on the ground as a gentle breeze blows.

The dropping temperature as the sun descends.

The sound of a dove call.

The cool light of the full moon shining through the window.

The orange glow cast by the setting sun.

Fog descending on the mountains.

The crunch of walking in snow.

Chirping of crickets.

Wind whistling through the cracked window.

Crunch of dried leaves under your feet.

Tires squealing as a car speeds away.

Sound of loud wind in your ears.

Hearing something scurry through the bushes.

The buzz of bees as they fly around.

Fluff/Cute/Relationship:

Arms wrapping around you from behind.

Finding an old love letter in a drawer. (could also be angst).

Locking eyes when you finally see each other again.

Butterflies in your stomach.

The sudden skip of your heart when you lock eyes with someone.

Hands brushing together.

Shoulders brushing as you walk side by side.

Catching someone staring at you multiple times.

Finding a note left for you.

Resting your head on their chest, as you listen to their heartbeat.

Their hand slipping into yours.

Sense of relief and comfort as they walk into the room.

Knowing looks and smiles from across the room.

The feeling you get when you learn a crush has been asking about you.

The gentle tickle of fingers gliding over your skin.

A protective arm around your waist.

The warmth of their hand intertwined with yours.

Their thumb brushing gently across your lip.

Heat rising up your neck and face.

The pleasant surprise and attraction of seeing someone wearing something unexpected.

A gentle kiss on the neck.

The gentle brushing of their hand against your face.

The sudden instinct to reach out to someone as they step away.

Your breath hitching in your throat when they suddenly look at you.

The burning of your neck and ears when they smile at you.

Angsty/Sad:

Reaching for someone instinctively, before realizing they aren’t there.

The sudden realization that you will never see someone again.

Trying to picture someone, and realizing you are forgetting what they looked like.

Tight clench in your chest when you are anxious.

Someone looking away in disappointment.

The underlying anxiety of wondering where someone is.

Someone you once cared for, not recognizing you.

Finding an object that reminds you of someone or something you lost.

The mix of jealousy and hurt when you see them smile and flirt with someone else.

The sudden realization you are alone.

Reaching for someone, only for them to pull away.

The residual fear and anxiety after waking from a nightmare.

Sudden dizziness that makes you lose your balance.

Walking down a street, watching couples, causing jealous melancholy to wash over you.

Scary/Horror/Anxiety Inducing:

Feeling like someone is behind you, and turning to see that no one is there.

Thinking you are looking at your own shadow, until it moves.

Sound of breaking glass.

Hearing someone talking in a nearby room, before realizing you are alone, and did not leave the tv on.

Realization that you are being followed.

Someone knocking on your door in the middle of the night.

Spotting a face peaking through your window.

Wondering why a vehicle/mount is creeping slowly, as if following you.

Someone calling your name, but you are alone.

Door handle jiggling as someone tries to get in.

Hearing footsteps upstairs, when you are the only one home.

Lights going out, plunging you into darkness.

Hearing an inhuman noise come from just outside your house.

The shadow in the corner of your eye that disappears every time you look, but is still there when you look away.

Realization that you are not alone.

Overwhelming silence.

Being trapped somewhere all alone.

Vision blurring as you begin to fall to the ground.

Being stuck underwater, unable to swim to the surface.

Your heart beating so heavy that you feel it in your head.

Comfort:

Gentle melody of a wind-chime.

Finding an old image that reminds you of happy memories.

The sound of someone you love, laughing.

The feeling of lying in a warm bath.

Enveloping taste of peppermint tea.

That specific taste water has in the middle of the night.

The taste of a warm fresh-baked cookie.

Lying in the grass with the warm sun casting over you.

Feeling your whole body relax as you lie down to go to sleep.

The soft feeling of fur as you pet an animal.

Sweet taste of chocolate coating your mouth.

The gentle sound of bubbles as you lie in the bath.

A long needed hug.

The pleasant sensation of someone combing their fingers through your hair.

The feeling of cool water rushing over you on a hot day.

Bundled up in a soft blanket on a cold night.

Others/Misc (Didn’t know where to put):

Rhythmic dripping of a leaky faucet.

Sound of a drink being poured into a glass.

The bright rainbow lights reflecting off a crystal and dancing around the room.

The melody of a music box.

Time seeming to slow down as you fall.

Sweaty Palms.

The flickering light of a candle.

The clicking of heels on pavement.

Rhythmic sound of someone drumming their fingers.

The blowing of a fan, in an otherwise silent room.

The gentle melody of a piano.

Painful numbness in your hands after being out in the cold for too long.

The sudden and quick pain from a splinter.

Sound of paper tearing.

The relief of drinking water after severe thirst.

Fighting sleep as your eyes grow heavy and your head slowly gets heavier and heavier.

The muffled sounds you hear when underwater.

#DADWC Prompts #Prompt Fill Tracking

[monocaelia]

the kisses they give

sometimes a kiss is all you need to know that they love you.

feat. childe, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, and xiao

genre : headcanons. fluff. slight angst for xiao.

note : a pick-me-up cause these past few weeks have not been nice to me TT i hope everyone's weeks have been good though! lots of love <3

❀ childe

to childe, giving affection is like breathing. he loves showering those he holds close to his heart with love or gifts or whatever he deems necessary to show that they mean the world to him. and kissing is no exception.

considering cheek kissing is a common greeting in sneznhaya (russia) and he grew up in a family where he was heavily doted on and spoiled by his elder siblings and parents, childe has absolutely no problem kissing the people he loves as a greeting or as his form of affection.

which is why cheek kissing or showering your face in kisses is the harbinger's go-to when it comes to loving you.

childe's kisses are filled with love and pure affection reserved for you, as if you needed him or anyone to tell you that directly. you would be able to tell from the way his slightly chapped lips peck the skin all around your face and from the way his eyes of ocean blue nearly twinkle when they focus on you.

due to his duties of working with the fatui and being stationed anywhere in teyvat, childe hardly gets any time to spend with you. so he treasures the moments shared with you during his time off.

the door to your home would slam open with a loud thunk and his hurried footsteps would get closer and closer to you before you're swept into his arms, your laughter intermingling with his as the ginger spins you around the room. it's not long before the spinning stops and your vision is obscured by orange tufts as the cheeky sneznhayan plants kisses all over your face.

no amount of protests will stop him until he's gotten his fair share of loving from you. and even if you do manage to wiggle your way out of his arms, childe would see that as a competition to see who was quicker; you getting away or the harbinger and his hungry lips. [spoiler alert: it's him and his hungry lips, to no one's surprise]

mornings on his days off aren't any better. usually they start off quiet with the golden morning rays seeping through the curtains of your shared room and the faint chirps of the morning doves outside.

but it always ends up in a fit of giggles and smooches when the sneznhayan is in need of your attention once more and decides to kiss you awake. despite your light protests for the man trapping you in his arms so he can kiss you again and again, it's not like you ever want him to stop kissing you.

each kiss that finds its way onto your face [and occasionally your lips] is proof that childe, your sweet ajax, is absolutely enamored with you and you wouldn't have it any other way.

❀ diluc

despite how diluc is around his brother, the young master of dawn winery is not one to shield his heart from those close to him. diluc is just not as affectionate as others are in a relationship, so don't expect him to shower you in kisses when he gets home or scream at the top of his lungs how much he loves you, though it would be a funny sight to see.

instead, he shows his love through his actions. shielding you from the rain with his coat, bringing you closer to him when you both have something to do in dragonspine so you won't get cold, ensuring that you get enough sleep while he stays up to keep watch of the team. it's subtle, but enough to tell you he cares.

kisses on your knuckles are what diluc would give you due to the polite and gentle nature of the kisses.

diluc would kiss your knuckles as a polite greeting, as he was raised to have respectful manners. when he first did it to you, you were quite flustered at seeing the vigilante bow before you and gently plant his lips on the curves of your knuckles.

however, now he gives them to you in more intimate situations. like after you've cleaned him up after a rather rough evening patrolling the grounds of mondstadt. diluc had come home to you in a disheveled state; ponytail messed up, dirt coating his clothing and face, porcelain skin covered in scrapes and bruises. luckily, nothing horrible on the surface.

you're shocked at the state he's in and quickly clean him up. you don't say a word to him however, in fear that he already had gone through enough and you scolding him would just add more to the weight on his shoulders. your fingers brush against diluc's skin and he leans towards your touch, the gentle and caring nature tending to his heart.

he kisses your knuckles, lips warm and soft, as a thank you for taking care of him and as a silent way of showing you how much you mean to him. you're the only one he trusts to see him this injured and the only one he's comfortable enough to let his walls come crumbling down.

diluc kisses your knuckles as a gentle reminder that he is devoted to you and only you. he finds you one night standing alone on his balcony, eyes glued to the vast orchards of grapes that surrounded the winery. it's hard to hide what you're thinking of from the attentive eyes of the vigilante beside you.

when you tell him your concerns that he should marry someone with more influence than you, diluc's brows furrow and his frown deepens. you are the one he loves, and he could care less about the winery or his business. he hesitates when you shy away from his touch, but you quickly find his hand again to hold.

the thick wall that shields diluc's heart crumbles when he's around you, and nothing proves his loyalty and true feelings more than his gentle kisses along your knuckles.

❀ kaeya

a playful and cheeky person, kaeya is someone who makes you want more and more of him. from his mischievous smile to the way your name melts off of his tongue. you can't help but miss his presence when he leaves for a mission and misses a night at the bar with you.

it's hard to miss the smirk that grows on kaeya's face when he catches word of you ever missing him. and it's even more difficult to avoid him as the calvary captain needs to tease you about it and shows up at your work or at your door to bring up the news to you, much to your dismay.

kaeya gives you brief, yet enticing kisses at the corner of your mouth to not only tease you with the idea of wanting more from him, but also because he absolutely loves to fluster you.

the calvary captain kisses you goodbye one night while dropping you off at home after a night drinking at angel's share. you weren't expecting it at all, but maybe you should have once you saw the playful glint in your companion's eye and the cheeky grin growing wider each second you stepped closer and closer to your door.

it's a quick kiss, short yet long enough to feel how soft kaeya's lips were against your skin and how good he smelled from the brief proximity. dazed, you can only stare at the captain with your jaw slack as he chuckled and closed your mouth for you so you wouldn't "catch flies."

kaeya's kisses are even more dangerous when he has an excuse to kiss you. while catching lunch at angel's share one afternoon, his eye catches a piece of your sandwich at the corner of your mouth while you're telling him a wild story about how the traveller killed all of timmie's pigeons one day as a bet.

you don't even have time to react as kaeya's cold hand grabs a hold of your chin and presses his lips against the corner of your mouth, successfully grabbing the grain from your face. the familiar scent of his fruity cologne fills your senses and it takes everything in you to not pull the calvary captain in.

there's a knowing smile on his face when he pulls away and sees your expression. his tongue pokes out from his lips as he licks it clean, smile growing when your eyes flit down to watch his movements.

it's hard to judge kaeya's true intentions when his kisses are so brief and you barely miss them, but everyone around the two of you can see the way the captain's gaze always lingers on you when you're storming away from his teasing lips.

❀ kazuha

polite and yet, always the romantic, kazuha isn't a stranger to showing or receiving affection. although he's reserved and grew up surrounded by nobility, affection is nothing the inazuman traveller strays far from.

fleeting and soft touches are what kazuha is fond of, his fingers always brushing against yours when you walk beside him or linking your pinkies together when you sleep after you've had a nightmare.

inner wrist kisses are ideal for someone like kazuha to give; intimate yet delicate, private enough where only you can see and feel the love he gives you through the simple kiss.

kazuha kisses you on the wrist in the intimate moments shared with one another on the crux. it's always when the two of you are alone and admiring the night sky and the sound of the waves gently brushing up against the side of the boat. the rest of the crew is either sleeping or drinking with the captain on the other side of the boat.

you brush his bangs aside, fingers lingering on the side of his face as you admire the beauty that the inazuman traveller holds.

he always catches you off guard by complimenting you in the most poetic ways. "the stars pale in comparison to you, my love." or "every time i look at you, my heart flutters as if carried by the sea breeze. you alone make the stars dance as if they are rejoicing that you were born into this world, the most beautiful and the pride of the universe."

his laughter floats in the air, as if twinkling like wind chimes dancing in the wind, seeing your flustered reaction to his words and he presses a quick kiss to the inner wrist of the hand that remained by his face. truly, you are the most mesmerizing being to ever grace teyvat.

kazuha's kisses are gentle against the skin of your wrist when he wakes to sound of your gentle humming. he had fallen asleep while resting with you underneath the shade of a thundersakura tree, though it's hard to blame him when your fingers are delicately brushing through his white strands of hair.

his heart swells seeing you so at ease beside him, with your ethereal smile and the way the sun seeping through the branches of the tree illuminated you like the god you were. celestia above must be so jealous of your divinity, but they could never have you so long as he was here to love you.

kazuha wishes there were more words to describe how much he loves you, but no words could ever describe how enamored he feels when you simply gaze his way. so kazuha kisses one of your wrists in hopes of showing you the devotion he has for you.

❀ xiao

xiao isn't one for affection. he doesn't seem the appeal to it: how mortals like the enjoy the feeling of another's hand in theirs or how they find peace with the feeling of another pair of lips on their own confused the poor adeptus.

not like he found any need for it anyways. being affectionate to the one you love was a mortal tradition and what did xiao know about being a mortal. more so, did he even deserve to be loved the way mortals loved one another?

xiao finds it terrifying to love you, a mortal that could easily succumb to the aftermath of his karmic debt. this debt was his own burden to carry and you don't deserve to love a corrupted being like him, someone who only brings despair and destruction to anyone who crosses his path, innocent or not.

forehead kisses are the only kisses xiao allows himself to give you.

they're intimate enough to communicate his feelings for you without saying a word, yet simple enough so that he doesn't overwhelm himself with your presence.

they're to bid you farewell before he leaves for one of his missions as the sole adeptus of liyue. xiao does not know how long he'll be gone, or even if he'd return to your warm embrace. and so, his featherlight kisses are pressed to your forehead before he disappears without a trace, leaving you to worry about his safety on the deck of the wangshu inn.

xiao gives you forehead kisses as an apology for being the one you love. anyone else could have given you a better love than he ever could, could even promise you a future together and grow old with you.

you deserve someone who could openly love you and show you off to those around them, someone who didn't have a high chance of never coming home. all the adeptus has done for you was give you the crystalflies whose light reminded him so much of the stars that inhabited your eyes and the slightly crinkled qingxin flower he picked up on the way back to you.

xiao wonders why you're so happy when he brings you those small gifts when someone else could be giving you gifts of a grander scale.

and yet he's also thankful for you for finding love in someone like him, for showing him the gentleness and compassion the adeptus seldom received in his lifetime. the pain surrounding his heart ebbs away every time you smile at him, like the warm spring sun melting away the frigid winter ice.

one day, xiao would be brave enough to kiss you the way you kiss him, to indulge in all of the different ways he could properly show you just how much you meant to him. but for now, his lips against your forehead is enough.

#genshin #genshin impact #childe x reader #childe headcanons #kaeya x reader #kaeya headcanons #diluc x reader #diluc headcanons #xiao x reader #xiao headcanons #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #didi writes #kazuha x reader #kazuha headcanons